#but eh. sitting there listening to something I then have to read without the visual interest. not rly into it

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

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[llycaons]

im not surprised there's an audiobook version coming out but it's going to be like 100 hours long

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

[chaos-caffeinated]

Emotions can help you remember Part 3 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

 Okay this is it, those words say everything you need to know, enjoy!

update: Oct/06/2020: To compensate for the part, I completed the story. 

Like I said -did I even say it?- I am an overachiever...and a sucker for plot

Not requested (Tagging @naniky​)

NSFW/T - 18+

Smut, lemon

One more thing: Do not forget I am not the only author, my brother and I share this blog for the sole reason of creating content together as well as maintaining an easy access to our stories. Just look under #caffeine for more stories from him, the media he does, previous works, requests/commissions/, and what he is willing to write and not write. 

Okay, NOW onto the story: Enjoy!

I wrote this part incredibly long that I just had to make another part, which will be uploaded in the next hour (October 31, 1pm). If you would like to be reminded, just click on the button on the top right corner (if mobile) and select “get notified”.

“Though it’s good, it’s not fluent enough. Again.” Sebastian ordered, his facial expression was laced with the strictness of his voice. His eyebrows were knitted behind his delicate oval glasses that were chained for easy access. He held a short whip that caught your attention each time he smack it onto his hand, sometimes wondering to ask him if it hurt to whip himself. 

Flinching from the sound, you involuntarily let out a whimper before gazing at the text before you, “Ce soir, je serai donné à l’obscurité, je n’ai que moi-même au prince des ténèbres. Oh Crow permettent à mon corps d’aider dans votre plaisir que votre vie s’est propagée avec la douleur que l’humanité comme elle l’a-a...a...^1” You felt burned out, your voice no longer being able to read off the text that Sebastian had you reading, emphasizing the importance of pronunciations. 

Sebastian, on the other hand, was enjoying the moment you were casting yourself off to him, simply smiling behind his façade of strict teacher. Once you finished your speech you would his for the night, but he flinched when you stuttered towards the end, his attention towards you made him realized you looked tired, “Sebastian...I’m sorry, but I...I am so tired...French is not my strength, I am so sorry.” You gazed downwards, too ashamed to even look at him in the eye. You felt the constraining corset shift underneath as you crossed your arms, disappointed at yourself.

Before he could sigh subtly, his brain had racked up the idea to try something. He smirked widely, his eyes glinting the mischief with the intertwined lust. 

“It is unfortunate, Miss. (L/N), but you have four days before the ball, and I’m sure you want Miss. Hopkins to be delighted upon your return without a language barrier, right?...”

“...Y-yes.” You confirmed, saddening at the fact that you may potentially be upsetting her. 

“Well then, I hope you realize I have a couple tricks under my sleeve, however, some may deem it as unorthodox because of its-” he used the thin stick in his hand to whip the desk, his free hand placed on the mahogany desk leaning over slightly, hovering over your body. Your head whipped upwards where you immediately came face to face with the handsome butler/tutor, to which your cheeks were tinted with a slight pink hue from the closeness between you. 

“Physicality.” He finished with a smirk, “Of course I need your permission, but time waits for no one my lady.” He adds as he rose the tip of baton from in-between your collarbones up to your chin with a light tap. You subconsciously tipped your head back lightly in response to the baton to which he responded with a subtle smirk. When you heard his sultry voice, you almost swore to hearing a purr at the end. 

Entranced by his proximity, you gulped subtly and let out your respond:

“Yes....Sebastian.”

“Then we shall start immediately.” And he closed in by pressing his lips against your lips, one second secure and passion, the next dominant and rough. You let out a soft meek as you were trying to push against him, but he was strong. You sensed he wanted more, hence why he was rough enough to lean you back. 

He removed himself, smirking and revealing the fang as he lick his lips lightly, “I hope you are ready, Miss. (L/N), for I am not lenient.” And he stood up, “Stand.” He commanded, raising the baton to visually represent his command as you obeyed. 

You watched as he made his way behind the desk, but you looked ahead as you were afraid of anything sudden.

He made his way to where you sat and the chair scraped along the floor. 

“Sit.” He ordered, and you sat down to an unfamiliar seat when you realized the firmness and slight shift underneath. You blushed as you realized you sat on his lap.

You trembled softly as you felt as he placed his hands on your hips as he adjusted both of you, “You will read and translate the words I point, if you fail, I will punish you accordingly. Ready?”

You nodded, “Yes, S-Sebastian.”

With a smug look, he pointed at a word of ease to get you comfortable. This went on for a couple dozens of words before he began to challenge you: adding feathery touches to your back, causing you to flinch. 

“And this one?...” He leant by your ear, his voice having a slight rasp as he ushered.

While his gloved finger lightly traced your back, your body shivering from the touch, your voice faltered from it, “Uhm...eh...p-plaisir^2...”

“A stutter, Miss. (L/N)? When the ball is in session, I’m sure you’ll have someone like this as well. You can’t be distracted with this simple touch.” He took his forefinger and traced down your spine, making your cheeks blush again from the vulnerability. 

“...S-so what’s my punishment, then?...” 

“You want to be punished? Hm~...I’ll speak two paragraphs in French and you’ll translate them.”

Groaning as you had trouble listening and understanding, you took a deep breath and sighed, “Fine...”

“Good. Now...Dès que je t’ai posé les yeux, j’ai étré enchanté par ta beauté. J’avais espéré que vous travaillions pour Mlle Hopkins, et vous avez fait votre preuves devant elle ainsi que le jeune maître; talentueux et belle, je te voulais. Je vous ai dans mes mains, votre cœur bat vite, votre corps est à la chasse d’eau- Je sais que vous me voulez tout aussi bien, et à tout moment vous vacillez dans vos leçons Français, je vais m’assurer que vous souvenez de mes mains, mon corps, ma voix. Vous ne m’oublierez jamais aussi bien que la belle langue de Français.^3“

You couldn’t concentrate while he was caressing your back. Images flashed in your mind and you were shy to even have them possessed into your brain. You were fantasizing about being fondled, his hands caressing in other places, to have your own hands running through his raven locks. You wanted it all. However, when he spoke you understood some wording, his distinct pronunciation brought the sense of familiarity which gave you the confidence to translate his message, making you blush in the process as you processed the message. 

The more you spoke, the more Sebastian grew with anticipation. As you finished, he had held your hip, without moving his digits and whispered into his ears, “Good, now for a reward. (Y/N). Tell me, are you in any way against of my teachings?”

“...N-no...” you shyly confessed, “Please...keep it going...I do believe it’s helping me.”

His smirk widen, enough to reveal the fangs, “Good.” He whispered, “Then from now on...nous parlons dans Français ^4.”

(From this point on, it will all be english, I promise. I just thought this was fun)

~

You let out a gasp when he rose his hands, groping your breasts as his lips grazed on the back of your shoulders; he let out whispers you were able to catch, only to respond with the same whispered voice. Each word he spoke out you would be given a kiss from his soft, yet rough lips onto your warm flesh. His hands lingered over your breasts, his fingers rubbing your clothed-areolas triggering them to harden. 

“Tell me how are you feeling, (Y/N). Describe it.” He pulled back his hands as he teasingly, irritatingly, slowly removed your dress to expose your soft skin to his greedy mouth and hands. He removed his gloves to expose his black nails and the Faustian contract that linked his current master and him as property as he was currently ready to devour a mortal body in front of him, “Tell me, (Y/N)...what do you want me to do to you?”

“I...I feel like...my skin is on fire, like I want more just to get rid of it, but...but I like it...I like the feeling of your hands on me...I never want it to stop... I know I want more, I want to feel you everywhere...” You let out shaky breaths as you tried to muffled your moans in, your chest heaving as you gazed down to see his right hand placed on your abdomen area and you gently grabbed it, leading it back to your breast. His touch alone was driving you wild, craving for more as you tried so hard to hold back; believing that you were strong only to fall back.  

Sebastian hummed in response, "Then so be it." Where his hands were located, he easily held you down while bucking his hips, earning a few mewls from you, and your head lulling back as your chest arched forward. You hated how your body betrayed your logical side, falling into the temptation that you thought you had handled, but it was only destroyed from his presence, from his words, from his eyes. 

He bunched up the skirt so your clothed womanhood would be pressed against his clothed bulge, your moaning raised slightly to place your hands on the top of the desk, immediately interrupting the craze. You were panting, you were blushing, you were craving for more of his hot touches that got your body to get tingles, “...It is overwhelming...how is it that your so good to get me so desperate like this?...You are like the devil everyone warns to stay away from...” You attempted to take control of your body again, but you felt something pressed against you as you not only felt a hand on your hip, but another placed in front by your hand. 

Sebastian was even more entranced, while you felt he was responsible for your craze, he blamed you for his craze towards you. Other people would feel guilt while in the bliss of pleasure, others feel a sense of betrayal for their partners, others feel used when the Head Butler of Phantomhive seemed to be intriguing enough to have his attention, but when there isn’t a direct order from Ciel to gather information, to get them to cooperate, he feels a sense of ferality since his interest is purely internal. His plans were to make you his; you can be feisty, you can be yourself, he was most amazed that a simple being such as yourself can manage to stir a demon with their core motivations. He just wanted you, but there were instances where he believed he was doing this because he was to be yours, and that did not sit well with him, which is why he would do everything to get you to submit to him first.

When Sebastian stood up, the chair sliding back, he pressed against you, "Are you scared of me?" He whispered into your ear, "Because I can assure you that even the devil can open your eyes to reality...” He taunts as he raised his hand to caress your exposed arm with his fingertips then grazing them with his black nails before placing on top of yours, interlacing with your fingers.

You whined desperately, turning your head slightly to glance at Sebastian who was smirking. Once again your flesh burned with passion as you feel him start discard your undergarments, the idea that you two were getting closer and closer to bond was filling you up with anticipation, with more shivers down your back. What surprised you was to see each piece of your dress in front of you as he asked you what they were called: he wanted you to continue to learn despite the situation you two were in.  

"What is this?" He asks as he takes off each material. You grunted as he was testing your French by having you name every single material. Each time he removed something he would ask you and it was getting annoying. It was torture, hell, trying so hard not rip anything apart to get closer to become one.

After what felt like an eternity of hell of torture, you were naked in front of him. You realized how vulnerable you were in the position, offering yourself to the Head Butler of the Phantomhives and that made you cower slightly. Trembling, you tried to close up when you felt two soft hands placed on your back.

"Such a magnificent body you have, it's no wonder why everybody else wants you. Beauty like this deserves to be shown off...,but at this moment, and moments like these...you are mine alone." He whispered to you only, his ushered tone had a growl towards the end, like a predator growling in victory towards its prey. His fingers trailed up your back to the nape of your neck and held it in place as the other groped your breast.

You wondered when he had the opportunity to unbuckle his pants, but you shivered once you felt the head of his cock rubbing against your clit, a wanton moan releasing as your body pressed against him almost out of instinct.

"Mmm, desperate for more?~" Sebastian teased as he smirked devilishly, holding you in place as he rejected to further your pleasure.

"Please....please, Sebastian." You begged, tearing up, "Please..." you panted as you swayed your hips in an attempt to tempt him further.

Sebastian smirked and remained like that only to hear and see you move less and less. You tried waiting patiently, tried, but you simply closed your eyes and imagined the scenarios that made you blush. As you imagine him, your thoughts were quickly interrupted as he guided you to bend over the desk as he held your hips, "Distracted yet again, Miss. (L/N), my my. You are one persistent student, aren't you?" He snapped his hips towards, his cock rubbing against your entrance which startled you, "Patience 'will get you anywhere and everywhere', my dear." He reminds you before he proceeded to enter.

As you stiffened from the pressure of his member stretching you, you let out a strained moan as your hands gripped the edge of the table. Even Sebastian groaned subtly as you tightened around him and he calmly rubbed your back in a soft manner, "...W-was...Was this your first time?" He caught his breath as he eased the thrusting by removing himself until the hilt.

You involuntarily let out a breathy moan as he returned, thrusting in a steady pace. Each thrust felt more good and pleasurable than the last before you your hips pressed back against him. You even arched your back as you press back to feel his hips slap against you. The pace was increasing ever slightly, his breaths were audible as he let out breathy moans with your vocal ones. He had an immense grip on your hips that bruises were going to appear, but you didn’t mind. You would have to deal with that in the near future, at the moment you getting taken care of very good by the butler. 

Sebastian let out a soft chuckle as he removed himself and proceeded to sit on the chair. You gasped and whined from frustration when you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting, his erection was resting against abdomen; the image alone was an unholy sight, for he had achieved his core motivation. 

The way his hand rolled over to curl his finger into a “come hither” motion made you and your body responded by flowing with his hand. You turned around and watched as he accommodated his sitting position for you to sit on him once again. Facing forward, you rested your knees beside his thighs and remained uplifted as you stared into his enchanting crimson red eyes. His smirk widen -his bloody smirk- as he leaned forward to nip at your flesh. His arms entangled you in an embrace, but he held you down; he had successfully trapped you fully, he had you, not the other way around he thought you intended. 

You took a deep breath as you felt him once more, but this time it felt different. The way he held you, the way he gazed into your eyes as your back arched and your head leaned back, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward once again only to lick at your mounds and made suckling motions over  your harden nipples. His right arm wrapped around your waist and held you down as he thrusted into you unexpectedly with a steady speed. 

Moaning and instinctively placing your hands through his raven locks, you tilted your head down only to look straight into his devilish eyes. He pulled away from your nipples as you tugged at his locks; his eyebrows twitched subtly as they furrowed slightly; lips were agape as he panted softly. There were sweat beads decorating his pale face as he let out soft moans, your blush darkening from the mysterious man himself, 

“Are you e-enjoying the view, Miss. (L/N)?” He asked in his best attempt of a flustered tone, “You’ve gone back to your head once again, and just how would you feel good if trapped in there?” He bucked his hips which made you buck your hips in response. He pulled your body at an angle which trigger a hyper vocal activity, even your hand left his hair to cover your own mouth, closing your eyes to sense him intensely than before.  There was an intense tingling sensation as your body took over control to reach their goal too. 

As the speed and pressure built up, you had the courage to not only sit back up, but wrap your arms around his neck, curving forward so your mouth latched onto his neck, biting into it as he stiffened from the sudden move. 

You had reached a point that you desperately wanted to increase the speed from how close you were, grinding against him; knowing him already, you were the one that had to obtain it instead of asking. 

Sebastian was completely thrown off guard from the bite, his nails puncturing your skin as he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on the top of the desk, his hands gripping on your thighs, bruises would be appearing in a while, but he didn’t care as he aid in your goal, “A naughty girl indeed..” He panted, his eyes darkening, “Marking me in such a way is unforgivable...now I have no choice to reciprocate your feelings-”

Before you can even comprehend his intentions, you felt a sharp pain on your shoulders, your back arched forward as you cried out in pain, “S-sebastia-”

A hand covered your mouth, your voice muffled as he moaned as well into your shoulder. 

As you came onto his girth member, he remained still as he tried to hold off, even his body shivered from the denial- the torture he put himself into when he purposely holds himself from pouring his pleasure into you. As your body shivered and bucked into the pleasure, you simply held onto him as you rode out your orgasm, the sensation of the building pressure continue to overwhelm, the feeling of pushing him off whilst holding him close was a dilemma. 

As your eyes closed, you can feel him shift, you hear the rustling of clothes in a quick, yet slow manner. Instead of the clothes, you focused on yourself: your legs slightly shaking, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, your cheeks burning, your body freezing from the sweat that had gone out to refresh you from the hot man in front of you. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him dressed up already. His deep red eyes maintained fixed on you as he fixed his tie, his smirk plastered on his facial features, “Miss. (L/N), I do believe the lesson over for now, I think it’s best for you to rest.” He offered his hand towards you while you just had come down from the high. You felt queasy, but it wasn’t it. No, you felt lighter, you felt fresh for some reason. Could the taboo act made you much bolder, could it have made you more experienced?

“...My dress.” You managed to croak out in English, your voice sounded hoarse and you blushed from embarrassment as your hand hovered over your mouth.

“Oh my...I think overstepped my boundaries a bit, my apologies my lady, I will prepare some tea to soothe your voice...We don’t want our lesson to go to waste.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact. You blushed as you averted your eyes from his as you nodded, “Y-yes...”

“Yes?” Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked slightly which you quickly corrected, “I mean, ‘Oui, monsieur’.” 

When you saw him smile in a satisfied manner, you nearly sighed in relief, but you were now flustered and quiet from the ‘lesson’ that he performed to help you learn French. Without a doubt it left an impression you, an act of intimacy and vulnerabilities in a lovemaking surely stirred things up to help you remember words -events- more effectively. 

While you were thinking, Sebastian helped you back in your dress, “I have to say, I didn’t know of such a strong bite from you, my lady. It was certainly an eye-opener.” He explained as he helped with a few items. When he got to the corset, he lifted you onto your  feet and turned you around, “Hopefully you don’t forget about our time like...this” he whispered as he guided his hands across your abdomen which you instinctively let out a breathy moan, “Y-yes...I’m sure I’ll never forget about the event...” you stabled yourself as he pulled on the corset only to make you gasp from how tight he was pulling. 

After a couple minutes, you both cleaned up the area and headed to your room to rest. Your voice felt raspy, nearly gone. When a surprise visit from Ciel caught your attention to ask about your lessons, Sebastian intervened for you, “I apologize young master, but realizing that Miss. (L/N) is tight on schedule for the ball, I had a trick under my sleeve to ensure she would capture the lesson, but...I believe I was too harsh on her.” He smirked lightly which you forced yourself to nod.

“...L-lost my voice a bit...” you confirmed, “But it’s not like a cup of tea won’t help.”

Ciel nodded slightly, glaring at Sebastian, “I’m sorry as well, I know Sebastian can be too rash with his studies, but if he does it again you can tell me. I’ll be in my office if needed- Sebastian, I want cake when you’re finished.” and he proceeded to walk to his study room. 

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian responded before guiding you to his bedroom.

“Couldn’t have been more obvious?”, You bit as you rested your hand on your neck.

Sebastian chuckled behind his fist as he arrived to the room, opening the door for you, “If you wanted me to, I could have.”

“You really have no shame, Mr. Michaelis, but please...I ask that you keep this our secret...I don’t want you to get in trouble as well as I...” You asked of him as you entered the room to sit on the bed. 

Sebastian placed a hand over his chest as he leaned forward wit his eyes closed, “As you wish, I will keep it between us.” He stood up once again with his eyes open halfway. 

You smiled small as you leaned against your hands behind you, “You’re so...intriguing Sebastian. One moment you are a shadow, the next...uhm, you are almost a beast, and right after that you are....back to a shadow- how?...” You sat up, “I’m...beyond tired- very tired- and you are still up and going to complete your duties.”

Unnecessary to withhold his smirk, his half-lid eyes glanced on your way, “Your observational skills never cease to overwhelm me, Miss. (L/N), however..” his voice got more stern as he got closer, “ I have mentioned before that if you look into someone, you might regret it later, so I advise you my lady to keep at bay..”

The closer he got, the more you look up to stare into his eyes, challenging him, “Temptation rises when provoked, so I suggest you stop provoking me, Mr. Michaelis. Because we...intertwined in a forbidden act, you opened the doors to temptation, my... I even have to take care of myself in order to walk through those doors again...”

The corners of his lips curved slightly, Sebastian took your statement into consideration, but as entertained as he was to continue this conversation, his duties in the manor made him realize he had to cut it short, “I do have a few ways to cure that, my lady.” he suggested, his tone completely changed from the previous ominous tone to the mischievous one he possessed earlier. 

“Keep your tricks in your sleeve, please. I’m already exhausted from...your lesson there.” You huffed with a flustered face as you avoided eye contact once again. However, you failed to realize just how close he gotten. He reached out to your chin and pulled you close to him, “My lady, I have many tricks under my sleeve that I am not afraid to show you...four days is all I need.” He smirked darkly as he pulled away with a cheerful smile as he closed his eyes for the moment one again, “I will be right back with the tea as promised. In the meantime, please do relax and rest your voice...madam.” he added and proceeded to close the door behind him.

He left you speechless, knowing full well that his tricks were just promises ready to occur.

~

When Sebastian reached to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but rest against the door for a moment. After taking a deep breath, he chuckled darkly as he placed a hand over his face, “Sweet, sweet (Y/N), you drive me into a deep craze.” The hand hovered the side of the neck you bit him at. He was serious when he said you had a strong bite, and it wasn’t just that of muffling your moans. He strolled over to the counter and took out a knife to use as a mirror. He lowered his collar and managed to see a bruised bite-mark on his neck. His smirk widen and he clicked his tongue as he placed down the knife, “You’re a feisty one; I admire that.” He smiled darkly as he removed his coat to prepare the young lord his dessert. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4 Days later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The music was soft and inviting, a subtle siren in your head to set the atmosphere of the ball. It was a slow drag from the violins which gave you strength to take a deep breath and walk forward to the crowd whom were laughing. 

Ciel was conversing with a man -the truth being the other way around-, commenting and opinionating of events that bore the young master to a tremendous level, but he remained to act as if he was in interest to the best of his ability to focus on capturing a special guest. When the nobleman excused himself after recognizing an acquaintance, Ciel called forward Sebastian who stood behind him, “Sebastian, keep an eye on Miss. (L/N) and anyone she is speaking with, there may be a chance that she’s talking with him at this moment-” as he gave him his order, Ciel spotted you with someone casually talking in French. He stood there slightly impressed at your proficiency and commented instead, “Miss. (L/N) has a lot of confidence with her French, she even looks different from before.” 

Sebastian smiled with his eyes closed as he respond, “Thank you my lord, it took a little more effort due to the time restraint, but additional teachings were added to ensure proficiency.”

Ciel eyed him for a moment, “Additional teachings? It didn’t involve something like close proximity did it?” He asked with a near disgust that his demon butler would go that far, but not surprised if he revealed the information. 

Placing a finger over his lips, Sebastian responded, “Miss. (L/N) has asked me not to disclose any information regarding our situation young lord, but that should already tell you.”

Ciel’s eyebrow twitched before releasing a sigh, “...Unfortunately, it did.” 

When he turned back to look at you, he audibly gasped when he didn’t see you there anymore, “Sebastian, track her.” He ordered  with a slight urgency in his voice, 

Bowing his head, Sebastian replied, “yes, my lord.” and he walked from his master to find you.

~

While the dynamic duo were talking, you were having a conversation with someone that was visiting a friend. It became so casual and so friendly that the two of you had walked over to the table to take a few pieces of snacks. 

His name was Jacque Arias, born into a family that dealt with the fabric industry in South France, you thought having a good friendship with him would help Miss. Hopkins with future business after you explained to him that you worked as a tailor for her. 

As you took a drink from your glass, he spoke: “I am so relieved to finally have something to go to, if I had to stay in the office one more night I would have gone insane.”

“So you like parties to distract yourself from work?”

He nods, “Yes, and to meet lovely ladies that could potentially be my future wife, like yourself.” He smiled small with a slight tilt of his head.

You blushed from hearing this, stiffening slightly, “Searching for a wife? Me? Surely you gist, sir. I am merely just a tailor intern.” You explain to him, ‘At least for the time being, I like having those small arguments with Sebastian,’ you admitted in thought. 

He reached forward to your hand only to caress, "A beautiful intern no less-...it maybe my imagination, but perhaps the party has tire me out. Shall we go somewhere more...silent? Somewhere we can be more intimate?"

You were ready to say no, already losing the interest of a business partner potential. If he wanted to marry you, for some reason you felt it was your choice to choose, and you wanted to choose someone that perhaps wasn't necessarily available to be taken, and you responded, "I don't want to offend you, but-"

He took your hand in his and lightly started guiding you out, "Then let's enjoy nature together." He suggested, "I...I don't-" You glanced around to see the mysterious man himself offering glasses to the guests, but he also glanced at your way. You noticed the faint smirk before he tilted his head forward, 'Go.' You felt him say before he went back to attend with the rest of the guests.

Almost feeling your body going light, you then followed the man ahead of you with a light smile.

It was chilly, your skin shivered to make some warmth, "Are you cold? I'll call up my carriage." He offered as he took off her coat, "In the meantime, here." He placed the coat over your shoulders, "I'll be right back." And he walked with a rushed speed.

You were surprised to see his nice side as he was going to get the carriage. You were suddenly curious about taking his offer, but you wanted to reject by the interaction at the table. Giving him the second chance to see him truly, you decided to wait outside than inside where it was warm.

~

Waiting patiently for a couple minutes, you felt your body shiver once again, but you subconsciously glanced around. You felt like someone was staring at you- stalking you. It felt uneasy for you, your hands tightening the coat around your body while you made your way back to the manor so you would at least be with someone before you spotted someone in pitch black. You almost called out his name until your eyes widen at the revelation.

While the ball was still in place and everyone was blissful at the moment, with the earl holding in his disinterest in people and balls overall, Sebastian kept a close connection with you. He immediately recognized the man you were with and knowing how humans seemed to be believe they were mated with one intense session, he just had to play the role of the silent lover, granting the permission for you to be with the next chaperone, 

The atmosphere was filled with a wave of chattering, the laughter whether genuine or filled with arrogance, Sebastian could listen to all with depth. He listened to the piece played by the string quartet and multi-task with his butler duties. Suddenly, he heard a change in the quartet, a new piece was to be played and he listened.

The violins and violoncello were stroked rapidly in the next piece that it threw people off guard. They were not expected such an allegro tempo from the players: notes raised, dropped, the moments of silence, the notes raising a subtle anxiety from the audience even Sebastian felt it. He felt the anxiety, he felt -for a moment- his heart beating faster and faster and he turned to glance at the young master only for him to just watch the quartet as well. In that instant, he heard your panting with his demonic ears, it was the only thing that stand out from the silent crowd and the musicians ahead of him. 

He strolled to the head of the family and bent over at his height only to whisper by his ear to prohibit eavesdropping. While Ciel watched ahead, his full attention was for the demon. 

“Sebastian, I order you to find him and bring both of them back here after the ball.” He ordered with the ushered tone as the butler replied: “Yes, my lord.” before smirking at the slight liberation in his current state.   

Previous Part/ Final Part 

~Translations~

1: Tonight I will be given to the darkness, I have but myself to the prince of darkness. Oh Crow allow my body to help in your pleasure as your life has been done with the pain that humanity as it (cut out: brought/ apporté.)

2:Pleasure

3: “Good Now...”The moment I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by your beauty. I had hoped you worked for Miss. Hopkins, and you proved yourself in front of her as well as the young master; talented and beautiful, I wanted you.

I have you in my hands, your heart is beating fast, your body is flushing- I know you want me just as well, and at any moment you falter in your French lessons, I will make sure  you remember my hands, my body, my voice. You will never forget me as well as the beautiful language of French is in your possession.”

4. we will speak in French

A/N: Tell me why I spent over 45 minutes searching the music sheet for the Diabolic Waltz and Danse Macabre (Can you blame me? It’s amazing work.) only to confirm or learn from parts where in the music because I am an overachiever and I go all out when I attempt to describe the music without being “the music played louder” come on, I didn’t spend two years in the marching band and be discriminated for being a woman and a semester in Music Appreciation in college for NOTHING- TEMPO, FORTE (Brother save me, this is my call for you to save me, this has gone way too far even for my own sake).

P.S. I am saying it again: Do not forget about my brother, Caffeine, he makes exclusive and waaaaay better stories than I. Just look under #caffeine for more of his content as well as a list of the media he covers for any requests/commissions.

[dragonheart-swtor]

Friends and Fears

Summary: Eris is the Alliance Commander, Cipher Nine; Reykal is the most recent champion of the Great Hunt. Each of them finds someone utterly unintimidated by them in the other - something both of them need, especially when discussing old fears usually best left buried. Or, Just a quick one-shot of a bar chat between friends that should've taken me a week and instead somehow took me the better part of a year because I kept getting stuck. (Title subject to change, I've been sitting here for twenty minutes and can't think of anything better so it's either this or the doc name which is just "Spooky", if anyone comes up with anything better feel free to give me a heads-up)

Tags: Female Bounty Hunter & Female Imperial Agent, alcohol consumption (not excessive)

Find me on AO3 at Dragonheart37!

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The tiny, grimy cantinas that dotted the streets of every space station like this one were always bustling with activity, rowdy with fights and gambling and music, and this one was no different. It wasn't the kind of place where you couldn't take your hand off your credit purse, but it definitely was the kind of place you wanted to keep a vibroknife on you at all times, just in case. Any self-respecting citizen – Imperial, Republic, or Alliance, and probably Zakuulian too – would steer clear of a place like this. Which was, of course, exactly why it was the best kind of place for an Alliance Commander and a Great Hunt champion to disappear; Reykal always fit right in without even trying, and all it took was a change of makeup and a less formal outfit for Eris to go unnoticed in a place where no one was looking for her.

Reykal had promised this particular spot had the best food and drinks this side of the station, and she wasn't wrong – the fare here was greasy, but good, and came in truly enormous proportions. Better yet, it was busy and loud, and after a quick scan and sweep for bugs – purely out of habit, of course – Eris could actually believe that she didn't need to be on high guard for people listening in. It was nice to just settle in and amiably listen to Reykal spin dramatic stories of her most impressive hunts – even if she'd heard one or two of them before – and of her most recent ones as well, side jobs taken while the Alliance didn't have anything of import for her.

She was just wrapping up one such story when Eris spotted the Sith.

Eris, through sheer power of habitual control, did not stiffen at the sight of him – masked and robed in full Sith garb, clearly just passing through the cantina on his way out from a back room somewhere. She tracked him for a moment – but he didn't turn to look at them, just swept past as if the room were empty instead of crowded with people. She carefully didn't turn to watch him go, despite the urge to do so and despite seeing Reykal turn out of the corner of her eye. Instead, as soon as she was satisfied he wasn't approaching them, she locked her eyes on the reflections in her glass to the exclusion of all else, using the visual focus to shutter everything else away. If there's nothing else in your mind, there's nothing they can read. Just glass, light and color reflected over the curved surface, playing shapes over the pale green liquid inside, tiny bubbles floating to the surface – no thought, no emotion, just glass. Nothing they can read.

“Kinda spooky, aren't they?”

She glanced up at Reykal's interruption. The Togruta sipped her brandy. “Sith. Jedi. Force people.” She wiggled her fingers as if that needed further explanation. “The way they move, the way people move for 'em without even realizing. How they answer questions you haven't even asked sometimes.” She snorted into her glass. “Fuckin' spooky.”

Eris chuckled despite herself, tension easing at the sheer casualness of Reykal's blasphemy. The Sith was gone, the door swinging shut behind him as Reykal spoke – out of the usual range of mental contact. Reykal's eyes sparkled with humor too; she stretched her arms out in front of her across the bar like a cat, all relaxed grace despite her bulk. “It's not the way I would have put it,” Eris admitted, “but I can't say you're wrong.”

“They make everybody nervous. It's not just you. Though I'm surprised you haven't gotten more used to 'em, considering.” She smiled when Eris blinked, a little surprised. “You hide it well. But you quit moving for a split second every time one of 'em comes into the room. You spend more time watching them than me, or Dad, or Hylo. Which probably isn't good for your wallet, knowing Dad and Hylo.” She grinned to take the edge off the joke, points of her fangs still hidden.

“Apparently I don't hide it well enough,” Eris remarked, sipping her own drink – some bubbly lime-and-mint mix she'd already forgotten the name of that the bartender promised tasted almost exactly like its alcoholic version – as she scanned the crowd once. “I've had some... bad experiences. Let's just put it that way.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. You worked with 'em back in the Empire, right?” Reykal rested her chin on one hand, fingers tapping her temple absently. “I did a job for some Intelligence guy, back in the day. Forget his name. Seemed pretty skeeved by the whole thing. Ended up having to kill him after he did try to murder me. 'Loose ends,' or whatever.”

Eris blinked. “Oh, that was you? I think I heard about that.”

Reykal raised her eyebrows. “Really? I thought it was supposed to be under the table, nobody was supposed to know about it.”

Eris laughed aloud at that, shaking her head. “Intelligence always knows.” She paused. “Which probably wasn't the most comforting thing to say, was it?”

“Probably not.” Reykal grinned at her again. “I figure if Intelligence was going to come after me, they'd have done it by now.”

“You were a low-priority target,” Eris assured her, smiling back wryly. “We had bigger fish to fry, at the time. That would have been right before the Dominator blew up and everything went to hell.”

“Bigger fish to fry, eh?” Reykal chuckled. “I'm insulted.”

“Intelligence deals with pretty big fish. Be glad you weren't one of them.”

“Speaking from experience?” Reykal asked, arching an eyebrow.

Eris shrugged, sipping her drink again to hide her smile. “That's classified.”

Reykal scoffed, mocking exasperation at the old half-joke. “'That's classified.' Someday I'm going to have to get some actual drinks in you to get all those classified stories out of you.” She winked. “Personally, I think you just can't hold your alcohol and that's why you're never caught dead with it.”

“That's also classified.” She didn't bother to hide the grin this time.

“Kriff's sake,” Reykal exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You're impossible. I don't know why I bother.”

Eris laughed. “I'm sure you're very put-upon to deal with me.”

Reykal downed the rest of her glass and turned to flag down the bar droid; Eris took the opportunity to sip her drink and sift through her thoughts again, deliberating. “You're right,” she murmured after a moment of quiet. Reykal turned back to her, raising an eyebrow, and she clarified, “The Sith do... make me nervous. They all do, but... Sith especially.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh. “It's not exactly a secret, at least not to them. They can feel fear a mile away.”

Reykal took her refilled drink absently, attention focused on Eris much more seriously than she had been before. “Working with 'em doesn't help?” she asked. “You and Beniko seem... close.”

Eris tapped the rim of her drink, staring down into it as she thought through her next words. “Minister Beniko and I have worked together closely for long enough that I'm no longer concerned about her...” She trailed off.

“Acting like a murder-hobo Sith?” Reykal filled in. Eris gave her a look that made her snort and raise an appeasing hand. “Sorry. But you were thinking it too.”

“I would have phrased it more tactfully,” Eris sighed, “but... yes. Sith... they tend to use their power to its utmost to control those around them. It's just how things are in the Empire. And they have a great deal of power.” She pursed her lips. “Do you know some cultures worship Force-users as demigods?” Reykal shook her head. “It's true. And who can really blame them?”

Reykal nodded. “A lot of people are scared of them. Not just in the Empire, either. Anyone in their right mind would be wary.”

“It's... bizarre, to be equal to a Force-user,” Eris admitted. “In the Empire, even the lowest Sith acolyte ranks above the Force-blind. To have Minister Beniko and Darth Nox at my war table – my war table – and not be answering to them as superiors... I'm still not used to it, even after all this time. And Master Garen'ishta, and the Barsen'thor – even Senya. I'm used to having to be afraid of them. At this point, I'm not sure I'm capable of not being nervous around them. Not...” Not after Jadus. And Zhorrid. But that she couldn't say out loud, not here, not even to Reykal. “Not after working directly under them for so long.”

Reykal hummed sympathetically, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I don't blame you. I talk a big game, but really, Force-users have been some of my most dangerous targets. There's a reason most hunters don't take contracts on them at all.” She took a sip of brandy, jaw working as she thought. Quietly, barely audible over the noise of the bar, she added, “D'you actually think any of 'em might turn on you?”

Eris pursed her lips, but shook her head. “Not at this point. The Jedi will fight alongside us for as long as they're convinced our cause serves the greater good – no matter how much the Barsen'thor pretends to be aloof. If Nox were going to turn on us, she would've done it by now; she's had ample opportunity, and in any case, she hates Zakuul and Arcann for stealing her place in the Empire from her too much to ally with them. Senya... Senya will stay loyal for now, at least. And Minister Beniko has long since proved her loyalty, as I said.”

“Well, that's good, at least.” Reykal cracked a grin. “Better'n if you were actually logically worried about 'em.”

Eris smiled. “Are you insinuating that I'm being illogical?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“You are insufferable,” she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink.

Reykal laughed aloud, fangs flashing in the light. “Eh, that's why you like me. None of that faffin' about trying to be dainty and diplomatic about it.”

Eris shook her head, still smiling, but didn't deny it. It was true, really – Reykal was perhaps the only person she talked to on a regular basis who wasn't constantly embroiled in politics and diplomacy, who was brashly open about her thoughts and feelings. It was refreshing, if she was honest – a chance to relax for once, to not constantly have to be watching her every word and gesture. To pretend they were just two friends at a bar and nothing more, for a little while.

Reykal spun around on her stool and leaned back against the bar, flipping her back lek over the edge so it wouldn't get crushed. “We should go shooting after this,” she offered, grinning lazily at Eris. “See if your pistol aim's gotten any better.”

Eris arched an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. It was hard to tell in the cantina's soft mood lighting, but she was fairly sure Reykal's lekku were flushed a deeper red than usual. She half-smiled. “I think you've had one too many drinks for that, Master Candessan.”

“Pah, too many drinks. I've shot in worse situations'n this, more drunk'n this.” She grinned again to take the edge off the comment. “Suit yourself, though. What do you do for fun, anyway, when you're not gettin' swamped by hell-knows-what kinda work from the Alliance?”

“You might have heard of this thing called 'reading,'” Eris said, allowing herself an impish grin.

Reykal scoffed playfully through her teeth. “Oh, sure, now the high-and-mighty Imperial act  comes out.”

“Don't tell me you're a literary connoisseur.”

“Doesn't mean I don't read.” She stuck out her tongue at Eris in a gesture so childish it startled a genuine laugh out of her. “Miss Hoity-Toity Imperial-Logo-Boxers over here, makin' fun of us peasant folk. What's the Alliance come to?”

Eris swatted her shoulder, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“'Cause you like me,” Reykal reminded her cheerfully. She slid off the stool to stand next to the bar. “C'mon, finish your drink already and let's get outta here. We can go window-shopping on the boardwalk and see if there's anything to spend the night on.”

“I do have work to do tomorrow,” Eris told her, but she swallowed the last of her drink and stood as well, sliding a credit chit across the counter to the bar droid as it clanked over.

Reykal wagged a scolding finger at her. “Ay, none of that. You said we'd get a night on the town, you're getting a night on the town. You work yourself too hard.”

“Very well,” Eris agreed, shaking her head with a fond smile. “But I draw the line at drunk bounty hunting or robbing anyone in an alley.”

“You're no fun.” Reykal offered her arm with a dramatic flourish and Eris took it with another laugh, letting the bounty hunter lead her out the door.

[loveless-scribes]

Lovely LS Art!

A lovely piece of art from the fabulous and talented @dags-sz​ for the story I’m currently co-writing, Angelus Mortis. A wonderful visualization of our secondary couple’s first meeting! Thank you so much Daguer for lending your fabulous talent to this story! Please check out her work, she’s absolutely amazing and a pleasure to work with! <3

You can find the story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13642600/2/Angelus-Mortis https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736001/chapters/69569037#workskin And the scene here: The third day, the sky split suddenly overhead, releasing a downpour that drenched her to the bone. She went on wandering the streets, now with renewed desperation, cursing herself for not better informing herself on the workings of the mortal realm. Wishing she had thought to ask Jui what "money" was. She was accustomed to the conveniences of the Underworld. Hunger meant seek out the kitchens. Boredom sent her to the gardens, to Kayt's cheerful banter. Tiredness sent her to the servant's quarters. The mortal realm meant searching and searching without quite knowing just what she was searching for.

She was beginning to despair of her rash decision. Bitter tears lodged in her throat. Even if she were to be killed by pickpockets and die in the rain on this cold night, she decided, it would still be better than the humiliation of having to see Thanatos again. Of walking him back to the castle even one more time.

She paused, catching sight of the dim windows of an establishment that was clearly closed. A forest green sign overhead read Wings of Freedom in gold lettering and underneath that, in smaller cursive the addition, Tea Shop. She approached the locale to seek shelter from the rain under the overhanging awning. Peering inside the windows, she saw an impeccably clean little café, with tables and chairs furnished out of warm cherry wood. She sighed and turned away from the view. What she wouldn't give to be sitting at Jui's side by the warmth of the kitchen fire with a mug of tea in her hands.

A shiver passed through her as she looked down and watched the water snaking down her arms and dripping down the hem of her chiton. What was she doing here? What did she think she would achieve by leaving home? What was she hoping to accomplish? Surely, she was the most foolish nymph in all of existence to have attempted such an imprudent escapade. She was a half-witted, bumbling, poor excuse of a – the sudden tinkling of a bell roused her from her thoughts.

A young man stood in the doorway of the tea shop, a large bag of parchment paper in his left arm as he opened the large, glass door to the locale with his right. His black hair was parted in the center and damp from the rain. His expression was one of annoyance that seemed characteristic rather than provoked. Cool, icy blue eyes were hooded by narrowed eyelids, his annoyance emphasized by his furrowed, thin eyebrows. He held the door open with his foot as he ran a hand though his wet hair, pushing the strands back from his face.

He seemed then, to notice her. Drawn, perhaps, by her own gaze. He looked her once over and Slayte was suddenly uncomfortably aware of her appearance. The flower garland Kayt had adorned her black hair with had long since been removed. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess. Her lavender chiton, ridiculously out of place in the mortal realm, dripped water like a wet rag. Try as she might to stand up tall and meet his eyes confidently, she could not banish the shivering of her bare shoulders. All in all, she knew she made for a pathetic picture.

He looked over his shoulder up and down the abandoned roads to confirm what he already knew. No one in their right mind would be out in this weather.

"We're closed." He told her. His tone was brusque, but his voice surprisingly calm and gentle, in contrast to his expression. It was oddly pleasant, Slayte thought. A voice she should like to hear again, when she wasn't soaking wet and being looked down on.

"I am aware." She answered quickly, avoiding his gaze, "I seek only shelter under this awning until the storm passes. Pray, pay me no mind."

The man blinked at her odd manner of speech. He turned his eyes heavenward, as if already regretting the next words to leave his mouth.

"Come in, it's better to get out of the rain inside." He wiped his shoes on the mat before stepping inside, holding the door open only for the fraction of a second it took her to make up her mind. She followed quickly, catching the door before it closed on her.

He switched on the lights and Slayte got her first, good look at the quaint establishment. All of the surfaces were polished to a gleam and the lighting was warm on the dark wood furniture. The chairs were lined with green cushions that seemed to be a trademark color of the little shop. Beyond the counter she could see a neat line of appliances, along with shelves that lined the entire wall filled to the brim with various assortments of tea, each labelled neatly in careful handwriting.

The kind stranger gestured vaguely to a table to her right and she pulled out a chair to sit down, glad to finally be off of her feet. The warmth of the room settled in slowly, and she soon stopped shivering. Although it was embarrassing to be dependent on the kindness of a mortal, it was the first such kindness she had been shown in the last three days and she was grateful for it.

She looked down on her leather-sandaled feet that had gone blue from cold and wondered if perhaps she would be able to survive in the mortal realm after all. She looked up as a cup of hot tea was placed on the table beside her and watched the steam rise from the dark liquid, spellbound.

"Drink that." The man commanded with the same careless expression before turning away.

"Oh! But… I'm afraid I don't possess any of the required money," she protested, hoping she was pronouncing the foreign word correctly.

The man in question gave her an incredulous look before answering, "it's on the house."

Slayte took this to be a reassurance of some sort, that it was alright to drink the tea. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the gods for listening to her prayer. How badly she had wished for a cup of tea!

"Thank you," she whispered, "That is truly… most kind of you."

She closed her hands around the teacup reverently, allowing the warmth to seep into her fingers before taking a long, indulgent sip.

"Did the rain wash your brain out of your head?"

She sputtered at the rude comment, swallowing quickly so as to avoid spitting out the precious tea. "I beg your pardon, my sir?" she asked, wondering what she could have done to warrant such a response from her benefactor.

"The way you talk. It's bizarre." He added, watching her with that same devil-may-care expression.

She flushed. She had taken notice that the mortals seemed to speak quite differently than the Underworld dwellers but had not had time to adjust to their speech.

"I…" she stammered, "I will take care to speak more appropriately."

"Eh?" he looked disgusted by her response. "Who cares? Just do what you want." He turned away from her and headed instead to the kitchenette behind the counter. She watched as he unpacked the groceries, washing the vegetables with care and laying them to the side. He set a pan on the stove and turned a dial. A faint click was heard before the stove burst into flame, heating the pan.

"Sorcery…" she whispered, spellbound.

The man pulled a knife from a block, and tossed it into the air, seemingly without thinking about it. It glittered in the lamplight before he caught it and flipped it between his elegant fingers before setting to work chopping up the vegetables. Salt wondered if it was normal for a mortal to be this adept with a knife. Even the robbers that had attacked her a day prior were fumbling with their knives in comparison to this man. She had narrowly escaped them by slipping into the shadows themselves, a skill she possessed by virtue of being born from them, but the fear they instilled in her had been very real. Their words had been deceptively charming and flattering. In contrast, this man's rude and brusque demeanor made her feel very safe.

Soon, her teacup was empty, and the delicious smell of spices and cooked vegetables wafted over to her nose. She was fearful of outstaying her welcome and her eyes darted to the window, wondering if the rain had let up enough for her to take her leave.

"Where do you live?" The stranger asked over his shoulder. "I can drop you off, if you want."

She had seen any number of city signs over the last three days but could not now recall a single one. She needed to say something, but she was oddly tongue-tied. What if he caught on that she had no home?

"That's quite alright. I'll just go on foot. It isn't far from here." She lied awkwardly. Only an entire world away, leagues beneath our feet.

"If it isn't far, why were you shivering out there in the rain?" he tossed back, unconvinced. His scowl making apparent that he knew she was lying to him.

She opted instead for silence, not wanting to make it worse. He walked back over to her table and placed two plates of noodles and mixed vegetables down. Had he cooked for her? A stranger? She had always heard that mortals were cruel and amoral creatures and although she had seen nothing the last three days to suggest the contrary, this man was swaying that belief. Warm and with a meal set out in front of her, Slayte was beginning to see that mortals were not all the same.

He took the chair opposite from her and began eating without preamble. Salt whispered a thank you and did the same, glad to finally be eating real food. It wasn't Jui's cooking, but it was delicious all the same.

"If you have somewhere to go, then go home after this. If you don't, there's a room for rent upstairs. I'm looking to hire someone anyway, if you want the job, I'll just take the rent out of your pay."

Overwhelmed by the number of words she didn't understand. Rent? Job? Pay? Slayte merely looked on mutely. "You will give me a… a job?" She queried, nonplussed.

He looked at her as if she were particularly dim-witted. A justified impression, she reluctantly admitted.

"You work. For money." He deadpanned.

"Oh." Slayte thought hard. Money was apparently a form of currency required for transactions, not unlike the coins she used for passage over the Styx. Only in the mortal world, money was required for nearly everything imaginable. Including resources required for life such as food and water. In her short time in the mortal world she understood that money was essential for survival. It was something everyone had asked her about. That, and…

"I'm afraid I don't have any identification." She admitted. "That will be a hindrance, will it not?"

The man chewed his food slowly as his mind worked. His expression somewhat softened, he answered, "Then we'll just make do with a verbal contract and I'll pay you in cash. That works out, right?"

"Does that mean…" Her eyes went wide. "I can stay here?"

"Yeah, sure, if you want the job." He rose to clear the table, and Salt jumped to her feet, unable to contain her excitement. "I do! Very much so!" She was close at his heels and followed him into the kitchenette, ignorant of the way he winced as she tracked footprints over the clean floor.

"I'm Levi." He introduced curtly. "You?" he asked, tearing his eyes away from the dirtied floor.

"My name's Slayte." She announced, extending a hand in greeting.

He looked her in the eye with that same irritated expression, ignoring her outstretched hand altogether before commenting, "That's a shitty name."

[grimoire-of-seven]

hello lovely!!! i’ve been having just an awful time at school, so i was wondering if u could do a hc of one of the demon boys comforting the mc when they’re overwhelmed?? it would make my day thank uuu xoxo

PROMPT: “I’m here for You”

Rating: SFW || Barbatos’ Warning: Vague main story plot spoilers at Beelzebub’s headcanon.

Words: 300-600

Characters: Demon Boys + MC / Gender-Neutral Reader

Notes: I suppose, what I got after writing this prompt is that no matter what, you deserve to take a break every once in a while despite your mind telling otherwise. I hope you’ll enjoy this!~

Lucifer

Letting your shoes walk you around the House of Lamentation for some fresh air or change of scenery, your bedroom, a place where your bones could rest, became more like a pressure cooker with piles of your homework, additional projects and materials to read occupying your desk that it became obvious that shutting yourself in could not do any good.

With your fingers fidgeting, your worries came like waves clashing to the shore without any rock to interfere, the conversation with your favored professor was a subject that was hard to dismiss and with the exams fast approaching…

Perhaps the fireplace by the common room would be settling.

Or a nice distraction that is..

“Is something the matter, dear?”

Like a feline jerking from a sudden touch or caress of its owner, you clumsily tried to composed yourself, looking to your rear as to who might have spoken, seeing only a prominent string pulled to his chin.

“Oh. It’s just you, Lucifer. Thought I was having some paranormal experience for a sec.”

“Paranormal?”

“Well.. your outfit seems to blend in with the sofa.”

Watching him place his hand close to his chest, an invitation escaped through his lips, asking you to sit beside him with your body just seemingly comply with it, tired should you think about it further.

“You are pursing your lips once more, human. It is like you do not have any lips anymore.”

“I don’t!”

“And your fingers are back in fidgeting again. You only do both of those things when you are upset and in terrible discomfort.”

Silence.

Sensing how this might have been a private matter, with your lips tightly shut and eyes that are so unsure where to look, the Avatar of Pride himself knew too well how it must feel with other people insist on meddling with your own business. Offering you the cup of tea he had brewed himself for, he spoke in a gentle manner, a contrary when hearing him shout his brother’s name; “You could always tell me what is bothering you, dear. However, should it be something personal and intimate, you could always have a nice cup of tea to think it with and I would not insist on the subject. We could just silently stare by the fire and be distracted together.”

Self-consciously trying to compose yourself as you took the offer, it took courage for you to take hold of his hand, making the conversation into a confession;

“Well.. it is just about my academic performance…”

What supposed to feel awkward and perhaps humiliating, none of those surfaced with the light-bringer listening intently, much so that it felt good to be able to find someone to talk to and release what had been oppressed for only your mind to argue with.

More so, to share it with a nice warm chamomile tea.

.. And it is just all overwhelming.”

“I understand,” the Avatar of Pride remarked, as he poured more tea to your cup, followed by a string of advice that brought enlightenment to your studies. Perhaps, to a demon who is prompt to every work, his advice would really help.

“Say,” inching closer; “If it is fine with you, I could accompany you until you feel like returning to your room. Perhaps I could escort you then.”

“Would you not have agendas to attend?”

“Nonsense.” He chuckled.

“I would like to accompany you for once. It seems my brothers have been taking too much of your time and with this opportunity, I would not want to miss spending more time with you.”

 Mammon

“Hey! Ya ready?”

Bursting through the door like your room is his too, as he makes a race to the bed to your side, it is obvious that your great Mammoney is really on the mood for trouble.

“You could go ahead, Mammon… I don’t think I am in the mood…”

“Go ahead? But I only count myself in ‘cause ya agreed.”

Pursing your lips, they were only duplicated by the white-haired boy’s brows, now all stitched together.

“What’s wrong?”

Turning to meet his gaze, this little gesture made the Avatar of Greed’s cheeks crimson red, this intimate space between you was something he was so waiting to capture alone. Something that he could perhaps thank God for?

Or Diavolo?

Or Lucifer.. Definitely Lucifer..

With every one of them banned from using D.D.D., it seems they just went on with their business and they didn’t even bother pestering their little human.

And what’s a great Mammon got to do in this situation?

- Not waste the opportunity.

“Nothing..”

“Nothing?” Sitting up as he took a good look of you, it was obvious that you were not well. He may be what his brothers call stupid but he isn’t that stupid now. “What is it?”

“Just a bunch of schoolwork. They’re just getting on my nerves.”

Erecting from the soft mattress you and he just shared for a few seconds to get a sense of his surroundings, there were several open books sitting by your desk. One look and he knew exactly what it meant.

And that is your room is turning into Satan’s room with all the clutter there is on one side of the room.

Truth be told, he had been in that situation. Stuck on an academic project or an exam to pass and he knew just the right solution to get it out of their exchange student’s peabrain.

Or as everyone else calls it, a break.

“You could just… leave me here and tell me if the prank went right… Sorry about this…” you said so with your head already planning how to manage the time to get all your work done, making a walk already to the desk to reread your notes from the day’s lecture to get a grasp once more on what to do.

And obviously, the Avatar of Greed didn’t take this as a hint to leave.

“Well…” Mammon went on contemplating, “I did not like making fun of Lucifer anyway.”

Lies.

“I always get the short end of the stick with him anyways. It’s all fun and games until you could hear that cry for my name at the end. And that’s when you’ll know, I screwed up.”

“How about this,” the demon schemed, “We go shopping! Huh? Ain’t that fun while not necessarily trying to think about how much we’re gonna spend?”

“Lucifer would not like this..”

“Who cares if he doesn’t. I already got my credit card thanks to you anyways.”

Unable to suppress a smile since you already knew how this would end to both of you, mostly him, getting in trouble, it was that smile that made him more convinced to take you out of the room.

“Whaddya say? Are you in?”

“You.. are going to spoil me? With your credit card?”

“Well.. as long as I don’t get tempted at buying something.”

Knowing how that would be difficult to the literal embodiment of Greed, you could not help but feel sorry and laugh at the same time to this moment.

“What if Lucifer decides to tie you up upside down again?”

“I got you to untie me up again.”

Ha!

“Don’t count on your chances.”

Taking the first step out of the door, you could only hear what seems to be a cry of desperation trying to catch up with you.

“Hey, human! Just what do you mean by that?”

 Leviathan

 Leviathan: Hey, you okay?

Leviathan: We’re supposed to meet a while ago to check if my package from Akuzon has arrived.

Leviathan: You still there?

….

…

…

Leviathan: Hey normie! Come into my room. Quick!

Why?

Leviathan: I have something to show you. Just hurry!

Leviathan: I’ll be here waiting for you.

And that was how you were hoisted from your room and off to the otaku’s. With your previous class just overwhelmingly taking too much of your energy, it could have been easy to dismiss the text and decline… but it is obvious that he wants to spend some time with you and it sure was convincing enough to get you walking from the hallway to his room.

And here you are, knocking thrice to his door.

“Took you quite a while.” He remarked, seemingly letting your tardiness pass as you dragged yourself inside, something the Avatar of Envy himself noticed.

“Are you okay?”

Were you always that easy to read?

“Just had a bad day.”

“I got something for you.”

With your eyes recognizing the green gem by the monitor of his sleek computer set, the said headline or icon of the game continued rotating until it went to the title screen. It has been quite a while since you have last played it, reminiscing the random shenanigans you ought to do at your saved file, your reaction somehow observed by the other entity in the room; “Have you ever played Sims before?”

“Only at an internet café..”

With his eyes somehow judging you closely, it was all shrugged off as he invited you to take a seat beside his gaming chair, hugging his Ruri-chan body pillow as he gave the controls to you;

“How about we make a new game and create our Sims? Game?”

Letting the visual cues guide you in properly making a household like a spark did an idea popped up and sure enough, this would take your mind off from worrying, at least, while the loading screen is out in the way;

“How about we design each other’s sims?”

“Eh?!”

Completely disagreeing to the idea, his cheeks only got more flustered, making him snuggle his face by the pillow in retreat; “Each other’s sims? But I could design my own Sims. How about we just go straight in designing our house instead?.”

It is too bad for him you got the controls. Selecting the sex “male” by the top corner, you began customizing the sims by removing every article of clothing to get a better picture of what you are working with.

“That’s unnecessary!” Exclaimed the blushing demon to your right but his cries were all ignored as you went through the categories, truly immersed in making the most accurate Leviathan sims yet!

“You have those striking sun-like eyes…” Squinting by the monitor as the zoom were not enough, every click and scroll to the menu, you would take a good look at him before returning to the monitor; “…and that stunning hair swept to your right. And your jawline just beautiful like that…”

“I think that just looks like me already, normie! Let’s move one!”

“And then your nose is a perfectly pointy and lips just thin yet striking…”

“Hey, I said that’s enough! Let’s design our house already!”

It has already come into conclusion to Leviathan that there is no getting through you. Not when you are engrossed and unbothered to his plea of taking the controls back as he somehow just keep on getting these remarks about him that all sounded like a compliment.

From his hair to his eyes… From his nose to his lips…

It is too much for an otaku to take in.

“And done!” Happily concluding your creation where you almost forgot naming it “Levia-chan”, turning to your right, you could just see the Avatar of Envy covering his crimson red cheeks with his hands that are accentuated with a blue-colored nail polish.

“I almost forgot about the nail polish! Wait!”

Just as you were to turn, he used the wheels of his chair to push you aside, sending you at the farthest left of the screen, giving him the full reins to the mouse, envious already to make you flustered just as he was;

“And now it’s my turn, normie.”

Satan

Knock knock knock

“I will bethere in a second!”

Knock knock knock

“Who isthere knocking so late this evening?”

Knock knock knock

“I swear,Mammon, if you are here to borrow money, forget abou—“

“Oh..human..”

Perhapscalling out for the Avatar of Wrath’s help after dinner is not a good idea..

“I did notrealize it’s already that late.. I could just come back tomorrow.”

Trying notto get on his worse side considering there is no Lucifer or any of the brothersto interfere, your heels were already inching farther from the door, biddingyour goodbye already with a smile when;

“It is justfine. You already caught my attention, after all.” His remark making you pausefrom moving away; “What is it?”

But then again.. is your concernsomething to make him allot more time with you? He seems already bothered whenyou were knocking the door.

“It’sjust.. nothing..”

“Nothing?”With his brows knitted to one another, it is a definite statement to say, hewould not be letting go of the subject;

“If it isnothing, you would have not knocked on my door thrice.”

There is nopoint denying it, no?

“It is justthat…”

“Yes?”

“I find thelesson a while ago…

“Human..”

His handsoon came across to your shoulders, his face closer;

“Whateverit is that is bothering you, you could say it to me.”

All right..

“I justfind the lesson a while ago.. quite difficult to comprehend..”

Gesturingyou to come in, perhaps it is only to your senses as to how awkward was itwatching Satan disappear on his clutter of books, only hearing his footstepsand the door shutting on its own. Seconds that soon turned to a minute, it wasunnerving how still it was, making you resort to a conversation;

“Is thereanything I could help you with?”

Followed bya series of footsteps, his head soon popped up along with several books on hisarm, carried like an infant to its mother.

“No need. Ifound what I need. Just that this room, needs organizing at the weekends.”

You couldfeel your fingers fidgeting, knowing not how to continue the talk but withapologies muttered under your breath;

“There isno need to apologize. I am most glad that I could help you.” Looking up, therewas nothing more but a genuine smile painted on his lips, something you werenot accustomed to but something you are comfortable with.

“How aboutwe discuss the lesson at your room? Mine might not provide the proper studyarea, to say the least.”

Was that a little joke added in?

“I could alwayshelp you sort your books if you want!” Offering the deal, for once, Wrathhimself cooled down and just fine.

“Deal.”

Asmodeus

“If it isnot our little human.~”

With thedemon approaching you by your seat at the dining, shopping bags occupying bothof his hands, your head could only take a quick look before declining once moreon your arms.

“What areyou sulking about? You know how that is a big no-no for getting a beautifulface like me.~”

“Not really helping, Asmodeus…”

Pouting hislips, you could hear the chair being pulled as he soon sat down, his shoppingbag all over by the table like how their meals were at the House of Lamentation.

“Are youfrustrated?”

“No. I’mhappy.”

Trying notto make this seem more of a topic considering how petty you think the case was,the Avatar of Lust did not take his eyes away from you, observing every movethe muscles in your face makes.

“Iunderstand. You do not want to talk about it then my lips are sealed.”

That was easy.

“But yougot to let me use your hands, please?”

Your hands?

“Morespecifically your fingers, sweetie.~”

Your fingers? Sweetie?

What isAsmodeus up to?

“What areyou gonna do?”

Looking athim search the largest paperbag, his hands were soon holding tons of nailpolishes, lining them all up on the hard surface as he kept on digging anddigging to the bag and out for your eyes to see, all so diverse and unique onits own.

There weremattes, gels, chromes, metallic, glitters, and pearls that are of differenthues, each one of them screaming to be tested out and was that little category orgroup by the farthest end of the line.. holographic?

“Likingwhat you see? I got them on a sale and the saleslady was happy to help me carrymy cart.~”

“I do notwant my soft skin and beautiful body pushing and doing any physical activityaside fro—“

“Asmo…”

“Right!”Flipping his hair, you definitely had a clearer vision of how his eyes areenamored to his newest collection that pray tell, still has a space on hisroom.

“Anyways.. Icould not test them all out to you, that would take us years but..”

Here it is!For whatever reason, his excitement was contagious as you scanned the wholeline of nail polish. Something you could not afford but could experience it nowwith the Narcissus.

“Which onedo you prefer? You only got to pick three.~”

You will definitely need more thanthree.

Beelzebub

Down went another cup of strawberry-filled yogurt.

With your room a dumpster of books and lecture notes, the kitchen became your little paradise. It has been an hour since you sat down and it is becoming more and more discouraging to do any work despite your brain stressing enough to do move on and start ahead.

It had been like this for a couple of days already. Wasting the whole day then contemplating and scolding yourself for not doing anything related to academics that eating became a form of coping up with the stress. If only things could be simpler then maybe…

GROOOOOoooWWLLL

“Did Lucifer put you again on patrol to the fridge?”

Looking at your blinky box, the Avatar of Gluttony himself is rather prompt to his tummy schedule; 6 o’clock in the evening.

“Nope.. Help yourself.”

Like a giant going in for a snack, you could hear containers and bottles clinking and shifting as Beel started rummaging, closing the door with his feet as both hands were occupied with containers labeled with his name.

“Wow.. you’re going to eat all of that?” Honestly, by now, this amount of food should not come as a surprise anymore. Especially after you witnessed him devour a whole buffet Barbatos prepared during their retreat at Diavolo’s.

“Nope.”

Huh?

“I figured you would want some too. Eating yogurt is not really going to make a cut.”

Laying down two mugs, two plates, two dainty spoons, and a butterknife, it is difficult not to think about what would you be eating that would require a knife.

“What do you have on the menu, Beel?”

“Well…”  he soon began opening every lid known to mankind, overwhelming what seems to be a little breakfast table by the kitchen; “We got a cheesecake, red velvet cake, some chocolate-chip muffins, vanilla ice cream, and a chocolate drink to go along with it.”

That is more than what your tummy could bargain for.

“Belphegor and I used to bond like this whenever he is conflicted too..  And since you are now part of our family, you could always talk to me if something bothers you.”

Beel..

Perhaps talking it out rather than letting it grow within would not hurt a fly or Beelzebub’s appetite as he just munched and munched while listening intently. You could tell he has his attention to your story as he would nod and would look at you to see if you are eating as well. And you are definitely getting a slice of the cheesecake with a scoop of the cold dessert on top; He might have said something along with the chomp but it was hard to fathom with bits and pieces of food intervening and crumbs already escaping the inevitable in his mouth.

“Thank you, Beel.”

Watching how he could not wipe the titbits off near his lips, it became quite an eyesore that your hand went subconsciously searching for your handkerchief before leaning in, your face several inches from him;

“W-what are you doing, human?”

And with the napkin guided with your index finger, you wiped away what was intruding by the demon’s lips, meeting its doom instead at a cloth.

“Thanking you. I am all stuff and I feel better now, because of you.”

Genuinely smiling for the first time in days, what you said ended with a hug and you could not help but notice how his body got warmer but his arms stiffer too.

Belphegor

“Taking anap always helps, human.”

Tempted tooblige, even just for fifteen minutes to refresh yourself from being stressedby the day’s lectures, it was something you regarded to as a waste of timeconsidering how reality defies expectations. One minute you plan to only take arest for fifteen minutes and you would open your eyes to see you have beensleeping for an hour or two.

It does nothelp as well if you would just lie down either. Planning to only lie down forfive minutes only to extend it if the minute hand would go to six minutes.

“I do notthink so, Belphie.”

Feeling themattress pushed down, you could sense him taking a seat beside you, looking atyour distraught features with his drowsiness leaving the conversation, even forjust a moment.

“Why not?”

“Well..taking a short nap only makes it worse for me..”

“How come?”

“Well,”heaving out a sigh, it somehow brought to your knowledge how tired andexhausted you are from all the learning and lectures you have to remember..flashbacks of how those three hours of lecture became much more of a torture astime progresses slowly..

“It’s justthat.. instead of working and rereading the lectures for next week’s testdespite almost drowsing off by the last hour, I am wasting it on taking abreak.”

Facing theother side of the bed, your mind wants you to take a stand and resume onstudying, your body declined such proposition and soon, came in another insidebattle.

Having aninternal dilemma, it took you quite a while to sense a rather stronger forcepushing down the mattress, sensing it as your position went wobbly before itall came to a halt, with the Avatar of Sloth himself sitting nearly beside you,feet dangling on the floor.

“But what’sthe sense of working if you are under stress?”

Under stress..

“Wouldn’tthat only affect the quality of your work or how you would perform at least?”

You havenot thought of that..

It wasalways a race with time.. but what about that aspect?

“I..”

“How aboutyou take a nap and I’ll wake you up?”

The Avatar of Sloth… waking you up?The embodiment of sleep and 5-minutes snoozes, waking you up?

“Hey! Don’tlook at me like I’ll let you down. I’ll wake you up, I swear.”

Seeing himtrying his best to make himself the suitable alarm clock, in retreat did youlie down, unable to suppress a giggle, or even a snort by how soft hisreactions were;

“Hey, cutthat out! If you won’t stop and sleep, I’ll sing Kumbaya out loud.”

And thatwas your queue for your eyes to shut tight.

[iguessishouldbethankful]

Sly Cooper 1 Review:

As in, I recently completed the game and since I was asked to, I will give my review on it. I’m a little nervous because this is the first time I’m doing this, so hopefully I’ll get this right.

KEEP IN MIND: I did not grow up with this series, and I am going in after @oroanillado gifted me the entire series for the PS3. I am a new fan who basically grew up on Nintendo products, so my views might come off differently.

ALSO: SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Onto the review.

0. Initial Reaction:::::::::::::::::::::::::

I was pretty surprised how the game collection required no download or installation. So that was a good little bonus as I could immediately sit down and play it without much of a wait. As for the starting point on top of the roof... lemmie say that Sly is adorable at first glance. His movements are fluid and it’s very satisfying to control him--especially the fact that he has a bass sound to his steps that is beyond addictive. I love it.

Not to mention the music is nice. Not exactly as memorable, but I can listen to it and it does give the area a feel.

And then Bentley opened his mouth. Whew boy. Okay. Rok heard my live commentary every time he opened his mouth, so it’ll be a theme. It wasn’t that bad at first though so it’s mostly me wanting to explore the Police Station. It’s mostly a tutorial level so it’s nothing impressive, just giving the feels.

When Carmelita showed up, like expected, I was stunned by two things: she owns an extra fancy taser gun, and that slow as fuck taser gun is able to cause the destruction of public and private property as a massive scale. Ma’am, can we talk? Can you not blow up the cars?? LADY-

As for the comic style animation? Yes, perfect. I was looking forward to it and was not disappointed. I love the cartoony look it gives to the whole world. Which is something else I noticed--the feel and look of the game is very much like the love child of Banjo Kazooie and Psychonauts. The colors and collectathon.

Also the character motivations for Sly, Bentley and Murray are believable. All are orphans, and Sly saw his family get killed but the bad guys and the family book of thieves stolen. Carmelita? Eh, wish I had more context to her but good cop trying to catch the robber is good enough.

Note: I had no idea Carmelita was actually someone that worked for Interpol. My dumbass thought she was just a French cop. The more you know.

As for the hub safehouse area, it’s simple and direct to the point.

Okay. We good? Now onto the levels.

1. Tide of Terror:::::::::::::::::::

Sly dies in one shot.

Sly dies in one shot.

Sly dies in one shot.

No. This was okay. I was determined to find out how I could get around this. I explored the initial open area, collecting the coins and trying to get the bottles because I knew that the point of the games was to collect all pages, right? So I needed the bottles to get the clues so Bentley could give me the code. Thing is, I ran into a few problems on the get go. BESIDES SLY BEING A ONE HIT WONDERBOY.

I didn’t know I could pimp whack enemies with the cane. So I see this walrus looking mofo just hammering away on a boat and I’m like... How do I not aggro this dude. Keep to myself, reach areas I new I could jump to, and... OH FUCK THERE ARE BOTTLES ON THAT BOAT GOD DAMN IT! Fine. Let’s sneak in. By sneak I mean run around the walrus and realize that the guy just sees me and hammers harder. What? Okay then he doesn’t chase me. Get the bottles, realize after 5 minutes that Sly’s pimp ass cane can in fact obliterate the ship’s pole to get the last bottle, before trying to confront the walrus.

So I died the first time. Then I smacked him. You know, for a one hit wonder as Sly is, I appreciate that the enemies are the same as well. That balanced everything out and not made it a colorful furry version of Dark Souls. So off I go. Up the ladder and jumping right into the second area where there are search lights. I’m like okay, let me go around these and--

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE ROSE BUSH KILLED SLY?!

GOD DAMN IT!!

Yes, a lot of this happened. It has been a while since I played a colorful game like this and I a lot of this is simple designing that is obvious, but I am also someone that enjoys finding other ways to get around them. So many choices in the game seems nonsensical. A raccoon unable to brush by some thorn bushes was rather hilarious. I was basically fussing at full volume while Rok was laughing at me. Which was good, I meant to be hilarious.

I discovered the wonders that were the search lights and that they are easily turned off in the small sections. That I could in fact dodge most attacks from the minor enemy characters. Realized that this damn raccoon cannot swim to save his damn life. LITERALLY.

kjsdbkjsd And then I realized that I was missing quite a few bottles once I got to the end. I was frustrated. I wanted to get them all already. So I went back and tried figuring out how to get them and I SWEAR TO GOD I CANNOT EVEN LOOK AT THE SAFE WITHOUT BENTLEY GOING “YOU DON’T HAVE THE BOTTLES NEEDED TO OPEN IT U-”

Bro. Bro I know. Bro please.

Shut the fuck up.

Got the bottles and moved on. Found out that I absolutely adore Sly being in a barrel and wanted to take that barrel with me everywhere but I couldn’t. Realized that Sly puts come paper cuts outs of his emblem in opened up safes and--can we talk about this? Does Sly just sit in his room with colored craft paper and cuts these out every night? Does he redo them if one comes out funky? Does he get glittery paper or is it like the kiddy kind? Does he do them in the van? Is it with scissors or an x-acto knife?! How do you make these bro you don’t simply walk into a FedEx’s Kinkos to print these out!

Anyway, I’m learning more tricks as I go along, getting all of the keys and bottles and I do go back to each stage to get all of the damn bottles because I am not leaving one behind because I really want all of the pages. I am also seeing all of the death animations Sly does and honestly, the humor in each of them is not lost on me at all. I adore them. The first time I saw him just realizing he’s gonna fall to his death and he just-

I busted laughing so hard and Rok got to hear me lmao oh my god-- But for real, most of his death animations are strangely adorable in my opinion. Especially when he just falls and his little leg twitches. They never made animations like that for other games I played so far (not even for Banjo Kazooie). And the lightness of everything makes it less frustration in my opinion. As though I had no problem if Sly died along the way. Whereas I would get way more frustrated with how Mario or Banjo would die.

Anyway those are my tidbits. But lemmie tell you something.Once I got to the last stage where I needed to get the 7 keys to access the final boss? There’s a treasure chest with crabs mini games.

FUCK. THAT. GAME.

The only reason I got through it was because I’m stubborn and I distracted my frustrations in my chat with Rok as I had this damn raccoon swim around in a submarine, killing about 100 crustaceans just for 40 chests!! 40! Not a normal number like 20 or 25. No. 40. That drove me nuts for some reason.

Anyway, finally got to the final boss after I collected all the horseshoes and lives around the main hub of the level, and then yeeted Sly from the canon ALA Wind Waker style.

Raleigh is freaking gross. Not in voice, but his animation made me feel really nasty with looking at him, which in my opinion was a good visual design and motivator to get rid of him faster. It was also easy to sort of find out what the boss fight was requiring from me in the end--making it so much easier as well. I guess for a kid it’s a bit more difficult and I can understand that. I just enjoyed the fights for having a repetitive nature that was satisfying. Like even if I died many times, the game didn’t throw me all the way out of the level at all. It restarted the fight from the beginning and that, to me, was a good way to introduce me to the entire function of a Sly Cooper 1 boss fight.

I felt happy when I defeated Raleigh. And of course, Sly isn’t a “killer” so froggo dude is still alive, just in prison after “HOT LATIN FOX LADY” caught him. Of course. Can someone tell me where Carmelita is from? Is she Spanish or Mexican or..? Like was that defined by the games or was it thrown up in the air?

Anyway, onto the next level.

2. Sunset Snake Eyes:::::::::::::::::::::

Lemmie just say that I actually enjoyed Mugshot’s backstory? It made me feel really sympathetic towards him in a way.... Despite him being a murderer but you know. It was a nice touch.

Okay so, are any of you familiar with the whole “Mickey Mouse is taking his dog Pluto for a walk” dilemma? Well, I had a moment like that as well in this section. Why? Because Mugshot has feral dogs all over his turf and that messes me up a lot for some reason. Like I always wondered how, evolutionary wise, can an anthro dog and a feral dog look so similar? I had a moment like that as well when reading Farewell, Beloved Falco. There was a feral pig in that comic and it bother the fuck out of me. But it didn’t impede me from playing the game.

The look was very much classical American desert wasteland in the middle of nowhere. Possibly southwest USA if I were to guess, and I liked the feel of the casinos and run down RVs, trailers and cars. However it made me question why this place was a junkyard almost if he kinda has a functioning casino. For Raleigh I could understand because it was a hideout, you do what you can right? Even if you have a fucking floating metal blimp over your hideout, like that won’t catch military attention at all, nooooooo--

But like, an abandoned casino suggests that it was once owned by the mafia or a mob, and just--Okay. Police regulations and gun control. Etc etc, I’m rambling on about things that have nothing to do with the game. Back to the design.

Again, collecting all the bottles like a desperate AA member that needs a hit for old times sake and running back to open up the safe. Can I just say that the names of each Cooper ancestor is rather amusing? Like some have the most dumb but adorable names. Huckleberry Cooper jfc--

And once I got into the main hub, I got my first taste of the “Murray can’t think without his stomach thus gets himself in trouble and needs to race his Moon Rover turned into a Van to win one of the keys” mini game and “Bentley told me I gotta keep you alive as you run through this area full of trigger happy criminals, Murray, plEASE STOP RUNNING IN FRONT OF MY BULLETS MURRAY-” mini game. Nice. Not as bad as the 40 treasure chests crabs.

Also, why would Mugshot or his minions just leave a red sports car running on reverse for days on end?? Anyway.

The inside of the casino was a nice section to play ngl. I enjoyed that a lot. The platforming too, despite some of the bottles being utterly difficult to get without having to die and do the entire section again to get them. And then comes the level when Carmelita decides to destroy private property because she’s after this dumbass raccoon. I wonder how she felt seeing him jump around back and forth breaking bottles and dodging her SLOW AS FUCK TASER GUN.

“Could you stand still?!”

“Nope. Not my fault you couldn’t get a license for a firearm.”

Finally I got to the Mugshot boss fight and like the first one, it was a very satisfying fight. Mugshot had me in stitches because he walked around with his long ass arms instead of his legs at first like lmao! Also once I got to the final third stage, I was all cautious and excite to jump around the wires. Yessss.

Defeated, all bottles collected, Carmelita caught this villain as well, and off we go... stealing shit from the USA before coming back to the Safehouse? Alrighty then.

3. Vicious Voodoo:::::::::::::::

Let me tell you something about myself. I have an intense love for Voodoo in video games. Started with Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Father, Princess and the Frog and I had an intense call back to one of the swamp areas of Banjo Kazooie in this level.

So basically, this is my favorite level.

I think it’s also the level where I argued the most with Bentley as well. Or at least the second one because, since the very first game, he keeps repeating the same obvious commands all the time with a constant reminder of press the O button. Sly? Sly?? SLY! PRESS THE O BUTTON! Bentley? You’re cute, but you gotta stop my dude.

The sliding effect on the long branches was a lot of fun, the tree enemies that had more than one hit kills were also satisfying to beat the shit out of. I also enjoyed the general murky color of the level in general. Just the spooky was definitely my aesthetic. You know what wasn’t my aesthetic? The first mini game I ran into, which was the candle mini game where Bentley would repeat himself all the time right at the start of if you had to restart the level. I muted the entire thing and had Sly mindlessly killing the fishes to turn on the candles while blabbing to Rok on the phone so it was easier for me not to get nervous about the time limit or the amount of candles I had to turn on. It was the same thing with the Chicken Gumbo mini game, but I didn’t mute that one. Because Bentley stayed quiet.

Also, @oroanillado​ is the biggest troll. I was on the beast section of the game and they did not describe to me what it was like. So I’m honestly not expecting much at all, just wanted to grab my bottles and go. Once I’m halfway though, and I already saw the water moving around I’m having Amnesia the Dark Descent flashbacks like OH SHIT OH FUK O Shi- But no. No. What got to me was... This intensely huge serpent coming out of the water and chasing me and my camera kept pointing BACK instead of pointing forward so I could navigate Sly out of that mess while also getting the fucking bottles along the way!!

I was shrieking!! I have an acute fear of things that are larger than normal (it’s connected to my Agoraphobia). I have that with whales and sharks and fish, so I usually avoid big mobs if possible in any game. Yes, including the 3 mythical dragons from Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. @thekursedone-lylat​ was present when I was freaking out about saving Naydra and how huge it was. But at the same time I have a big fear of these sorts of creatures, I was laughing and cursing at the end of the level because honestly, Rok was having a good time and so was I.

Oh yes, also the other mini game where I had to navigate the same speed boat thingy and shoot down the on coming ghosts and flaming rocks was pretty annoying until I figured out I needed to destroy the pillars where the ghosts came from. Then it was easy.

But my absolute favorite section of this whole level was the Green Water Full of Body Parts and Bones. Bentley was losing his shit at the beginning of the level and I would accidentally yeet Sly into the water of decomposing bodies like yeah, yeah the turtle won’t like the smell of this. It was just a well designed level, so I had no problems having to redo it to get all the bottles again and again.

Now, the boss fight? I was warned about this ahead of time so I had to unfortunately put Mz. Ruby on mute so I would concentrate on her attacks but apparently they were supposed to go with the rhythm of the song and the Sly Cooper Collection messed that up? I think she was the only Boss I was really wanting to listen to as she talked because she was giving me good “yeah I’m bad, probably not the best one in the group, but I don’t care I’mma own up to it so try to dodge my attacks as best you can” vibes. It was also entertaining to see Sly go Neo with some of the commands.

All bottles collected and onto Winter in China.

4. Fire in the Sky::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Oh hey look, fireworks!

.....oh.

Surprisingly, this entire stage was rather meh to me? It worked like the others, felt like the others, but I really wasn’t as wowed by it. It might also be just the fact that I mostly saw white in general due to the snow, and spent most of my time looking for a few bottles on one section that really irritated me. Like I legitimately got mad in one section and didn’t want to deal with it because of the noises some of the monkeys were making.

This section. I hated it so much because I thought the bottles I was missing were in here and 2 of them were but I needed hints for it. Argh... Everything else in this section was pretty much a blur for me besides the two mini games with Murray, and the one level where Carmlita came back again, destroying more private and ancient property with her taser gun--and the main reason I remember this was because:

Carmelita saying she was going to catch criminal scum Sly and Sly just went “you really need to get woke, I’m not the bad guy here.”

I collected all the bottles but Bentley told me I had to defeat Clockwerk before I could open this damn safe, and it was the only one requiring this!!

Carmelita went down with the dragon statue, into the hypothermia levels of cold water while shaking her fist into the sky.

I will say the part of Sly and Bentley discussing the whole mechanics of Sly taking the rockets into Panda’s lair was pretty funny tho. Just,

Bentley: Hey you might be able to reach the top of the tower before these explode.

Sly: Okay but what if they explode before I get there?

Bentley: Then I guess you’ll blow up into many pieces.

Sly:

As for the Panda King boss fight, it was okay. I just kept running in circles around the arena while approaching the dude. Defeated him and was like okay, I really need to go and defeat Clockwerk now so I can open that safe.

5. The Cold Heart of Hate:::::::::::::::::::

Look.

I get Sly probably weighs next to nothing, Murray, but could you at least break once Sly gets knocked off the top of the van? Or when the rocks are falling down towards us, maybe also step on the breaks so not everyone is being driven to their ultimate death?

No?

Okay.

I will say, I headcanon that both Bentley and Sly were getting an intense case of whiplash when Murray was driving that van around at 120 MPH collecting all 60 computers because... Bentley needed those to hack into something??? It wasn’t as bad as the 40 crabs and treasure chests but man. And then of course there’s the section where, oh surprise surprise, Carmelita is in an obvious trap, slamming her fist on the glass, needing to be saved. Bentley warned Sly it was a trap. But of course Sly is like:

OH THANK GOD THE BARREL IS BACK.

Anyway, obvious trap is an obvious trap. Carm just bitches at Sly right as he gets stuck in the glass chamber and is sprayed with RAID. So Bentley has to save his ass. This is possibly the mini game I dislike the most. I just put Bentley on constantly circling mode as he shot down the targets.I died about 9000 times before I won.

Carmen is all Oh I was wrong about you the whole time Sly!

Sly: Duh.

And off we go to the next section where Sly lost his cane and he needs to recover it with Carm’s help. So I’m controlling Carm’s taser gun. Guess how many times I purposefully killed Sly? Many. For funsies. Because the gun magically got faster once I was behind the trigger.

Next section was the whole climb up the beam tower as it’s being consumed by lava! I very much enjoyed this whole climbing bit. It was fun. Again, died a lot and I actually glitched through the walls because I jumped somewhere I wasn’t supposed to and had to kill Sly along the way. But still very fun.

FINALLY.

CLOCKWERK.

Are we serious? Are we actually serious right now? Clockwerk had absolutely no motivation beyond ultimate hate? WHAT?! That’s just... not a satisfying reason ngl. Anyway, the jetpack flying section was probably the easiest thing ever and I loved it. What I didn’t like was the laser section that came after it... I kept dying. Again. FUCK. THOSE. LASERS.

Clockwerk speaking random little words while malfunctioning was super cute those. I don’t why, but I loved it. I was shrieking by the end of everything though because once I got right at the back end, where I’m supposed to jump on this mad owl, I was not expecting the head to jump on me. HHHHHHH!!!

Anyway, I killed Clockwerk dead. Back into the lava you go. Witnessed Sly give Carmelita the slip of the tongue and handcuffed her onto a railing over an active volcano before yeeting himself. Classy. Then back to his old tricks again with the gang. End credits.

NO WAIT.

The last chest. In the Panda section. Yeah I went back for that and got the extra ending.

0. MY RATING::::::::::::::::::::

Honestly, 8 trashcans out of 10. If Clockwerk actually had a believable motive besides hate, I’d give it a higher rating. But the game is satisfying and I love the mechanics of it.

Bentley just needs to chill the fuck up tho. God.

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (1)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up  tags: paranormal investigator, youtuber phil lester, dan howell is not a youtuber, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter & total) summary: Phil's got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story. Bingo squares: met on tumblr

new wip? NEW WIP.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

The wind is loud in this one. That's frustrating, and it makes Phil's job a lot harder, but he can't control the weather. Be cool if he could. He does his best to level out his voice and the background noise of Mother Nature before he settles in with his good headphones and really cranks the volume.

It's even more annoying to listen to the alternating crackle and whistle right in his ears. Phil has dealt with worse during this whole process, though, so he finds the strength to power through it. He listens to the full thing three times, scribbling a few timestamps down on a Post-It pad as he does. He takes a break after that, does some stretches around his tiny bedroom and tiptoes out to get a snack without waking the whole damn house, and then he's right back in his apparently ergonomic office chair to subject his ears to more of this nonsense.

Wind, wind, and more wind. And sometimes just Phil's own voice. Nothing of note.

Phil is about to give this video up as a loss altogether when he hits one of the final timestamps and... can't figure out what that noise is.

For the first time since he opened this file, Phil grins. He exports the clip and plays around with it in Audacity. Some videos are always more fun than others, and Phil had felt like he was slogging through this one until now.

"Do you hear that, Theodore?" Phil murmurs. The tiny cactus on his desk, thankfully, does not respond.

It sounds like a person. It sounds like a person, whispering, and it definitely isn't the wind, and it isn't Phil's own voice, because he's in the middle of a question in this clip.

Phil might just be going crazy from sleep deprivation or wishful thinking, though. He pulls out his phone and texts the only group chat that doesn't cause him anxiety, which is comprised of the housemates that he actually gets along with. Anyone up? he asks, adding a single eye emoji for good measure.

Even though it's gone two in the morning, he gets immediate responses from all of them. A string of vaguely dirty emojis from Chris, a simple yeah from Sophie, and a cheerfully morbid did you know that insomnia leads to an early death? from PJ.

Wanna listen to a noise for me?

Within three minutes, Phil's bedroom is full of people in various states of sleepiness. All of them are in ridiculous pyjamas - including Phil - and PJ's hair in particular has taken on a mind of its own. Phil's room isn't really big enough for all of them, so there's some awkward shuffling before PJ claims the office chair. Phil sits at the foot of his bed with Sophie and Chris on either side of him, pressed close against each other's shoulders. It's a good thing he likes these people.

"I mean, it isn't the wind," is PJ's confident opinion. "Did you have anyone with you?"

"No, it's just me and my camera against the world," says Phil.

"No need to be a twat," Chris informs him. He taps at PJ's upper arm, impatient. "Let me have a go, then, if there's something there."

Chris is famously bad at hearing things in white noise, but PJ acquiesces the seat easily enough. Phil laughs, watching them do a weird step dance around each other in the small space between Phil's bed and desk.

"I can't hear any specific words," PJ says as he flops down across Phil's pillows, making himself comfortable. Phil just nods, because neither can he.

"How d'you know it's a person, then?" Sophie asks. Her voice is probably the only one soft enough for the hour. Their other housemates hate them for their frequent all-nighters, but Sophie is kind and quiet enough that she slips under the radar.

"You'll see for yourself."

When Sophie goes to respond, Chris interrupts in a hilariously loud voice, as if he's forgotten that having headphones on doesn't mean they can't hear him. "It's some kind of ghoulie or ghostie! I can barely fucking hear it, Philly, why didn't you mic it?"

"Why didn't I mic the ghost?" Phil asks, bewildered. Naturally, Chris doesn't hear him.

Sophie taps Chris on the shoulder and stands, leaning over his shoulder as she takes her turn listening to the sound clip over and over. Chris spins in the chair a few times and gives Phil an unhinged sort of grin.

"You got something this time," says Chris. He sounds like he's having just as much fun as Phil is, now that there's actually a thing to listen to besides his own voice and the loud, loud wind.

"I think so," says Phil. "Why didn't I mic the ghost?"

"I'm saying it would make your job a lot easier if you mic the ghost, yes."

"If I could mic a ghost, I'd be a millionaire."

"Then you better get on it, eh?" Chris laughs, spinning a bit faster. Phil has never seen the man sleep. It's a little bit worrying.

"Sure," Phil says, giving up on trying to teach any logic to someone who's clearly long lost their hold on it. "Next time I spend all night in a graveyard, I'll mic any spirits that might be hanging out."

"Shut up," Sophie tells them, mild.

Chris mimes zipping his lips, wrapping an easy arm around her waist, and PJ laughs.

For the first few months they all lived together, Phil had struggled to keep up with whatever dynamics were going on between the three of them, but he's long since given it up as something he's not going to understand.

After a moment of quiet, Sophie nods. "I hear it," she tells them. Even with the headphones on, she's quiet. "It's not words, I wouldn't put any subtitles over it."

"Yeah," PJ agrees. "Just let your audience duke it out in the comments like they always do."

"Thanks, guys," Phil says, feeling a sort of warmth sink into his shoulders. He notices that Chris is pulling up another application and half-heartedly protests. "Chris, you don't need to edit this one for me. I still haven't paid you for the last video." Or the one before that. Or the three or four previous. Phil has it written down somewhere.

"Don't be stupid," Chris hums, already clicking around erratically. It makes the editor in Phil want to scream, but he has to admit that Chris manages to find more weird visual stuff to isolate than he could on his own.

"I feel bad," says Phil, chewing his lip.

"I've told you," says Chris, "you can pay me back in chores and sexual favours."

PJ's slippered foot knocks against Phil's hip, and he grins brightly when Phil turns to him. "You know, I do have a bit of a laundry backlog."

"Funny thing, that," says Sophie.

Biting back a laugh, Phil shakes his head. "Alright, alright. Everybody leave their laundry in front of my door tomorrow."

"That's a no on the beej, then?" Chris asks, raising a single eyebrow and pointing dramatically at Phil. It has been near two years of this, and Phil is still too afraid to ask if it's a joke.

It's not as if Phil's answer would change if it wasn't a joke, because he's not interested in Chris, and he's especially not interested in becoming entangled in whatever nonsense his housemates have gotten themselves into. But, still, he might be kinder about letting Chris down if he were being genuine.

"That is a no," Phil confirms. "But I will wash your pants."

"Kinky," says Chris. He turns back to the screen and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture. "This is pretty shit. You know that, right?"

Yeah. Phil does know that. It's getting harder and harder to have the same optimism in every video that he'd had when he first started recording his wanderings around the supposedly-haunted places of Rossendale. He'd brought the camera with him when he left, but might have left that optimism behind. Phil only kind of believes in supernatural things - the way he only kind of believes in giraffes or true love - but it's been more fun than anything else to pick up a camera and try to find some evidence.

He's been doing this since he was nineteen, though, and he's getting a little bored by the formula of it all. Go into a haunted place, try to communicate with the spirits, pick up some garbled words or creepy noises, highlight visual oddities like orbs, and let the internet tear it all to shreds. Honestly, he'd have more fun making proper horror at this point in his life.

Phil shrugs and pulls his knees up to his chest. He wants to hide away from the sympathy in Sophie's eyes, from Chris' blunt words. "Yeah. I'm getting kind of... I don't know. Restless."

"Maybe you should ask people to submit things again," PJ suggests. "That went well last time."

It had, actually. Phil had needed to sort through a lot more ridiculous stories and obvious hoaxes than usual, but he'd found some nuggets of gold in all that hay. Or however that saying goes.

"People did like having their stories read out," Phil says slowly. "I'd just need to be extra sure that nobody's, like..."

"Ripping off r/NoSleep," says PJ.

"Yeah, exactly."

"We can help," Sophie says, and Phil could cry at how easily PJ and Chris agree with her.

He really doesn't deserve to have such great people around him. They've got work and lives of their own, but they're always happy to spend time crowded around Phil's computer listening to weird noises together. Phil sometimes wonders what they get out of it. Do they just like helping him, the way he has fun holding the boom for PJ's films or testing Sophie's concoctions? Or are they just as fascinated as Phil by the weirdness of it all? Do they want to see the cool instances of paranormal activity, too? At this point it feels nearly impossible to ask.

"That's going to be a lot of washing pants for me," Phil sighs. He doesn't know how to thank them, not when they always just wave it off.

"Sure is," says PJ. "But you should... ask the audience!"

"Your Chris Tarrant is pretty good," says Phil, only a little surprised by it. PJ's voice is as much of a tool to him as the rest of his body, and it's one he's always been skilled with. The impressions still tend to catch Phil off guard sometimes.

PJ tips an invisible hat. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week."

At his friends' not so gentle encouragement, Phil makes a few posts on his socials to ask his followers for new creepy things to explore. It might be the middle of the night in Brighton, but he has a feeling that Chris isn't leaving his desk until he's found every instance of an orb or strange shadow in the fifty minutes of currently uncut footage.

It seems like Sophie is on the same page, because she excuses herself to make tea for everyone. PJ leans over Chris' shoulder and watches the clips without sound, his lips moving as if he's murmuring to himself.

Sometimes this feels more like a group effort than Phil is comfortable with. He's never been very good at asking for help. As grateful as he is, he still itches with the need to take back control of the situation. He uses the slow trickle of fan submissions to distract him from that feeling, because all three of them do make his videos better when he stops being so possessive over his footage. Phil flops onto his back and scrolls through the incoming emails, tweets, and Tumblr messages to see if there's anything promising.

For the most part, the answer is a resounding no. Some things are blatant lies - there are countless ripoffs of films or novels that Phil happens to be familiar with, a few things swiped from creepypasta or subreddits, and his usual amount of conspiracy theorist fans insisting that some high profile person or other is a lizard - but most of it, to Phil's dismay, just doesn't grab his attention the way he wants it to.

Sophie comes back with tea and snacks. She leans her head against Phil's shoulder and watches him cycle through his apps, fact-checking idly and sighing every time something easily proves to be a hoax. Her hair smells like coconut and she makes a soft humming noise every time she lifts the mug to her lips. Her presence alone, small and warm and supportive, is enough to keep Phil from throwing his phone across the room and having a right sulk about how his career is in a tailspin because nobody makes ghosts like they used to. At some point in the night, Sophie's breathing evens out to the point that Phil thinks she's asleep, but then she reaches out to tap a tiny finger to his screen.

"What's this, then?" she murmurs.

Phil has been zoned out entirely for at least fifteen, and he blinks back into reality. There's a new message in his Tumblr inbox, one that seems like it must be over the character limit for asks. He must have submissions turned on or something, that's the only possible explanation for an actual essay being sent to him. It's barely broken into paragraphs with very little punctuation and no capitalization, and Phil has been staring at screens for far too long to try and parse this on his own.

"Can you please make sure this isn't, like, the entire Bee Movie," Phil asks, handing Sophie his phone with only a slight twinge of anxiety. He trusts her not to go snooping, but. Still. "I need to pee."

"Mhm," Sophie hums, already apparently lost in whatever stream-of-consciousness has been dropped into Phil's inbox.

The floorboards in this old Brighton house creak, and Phil has always envied some of his housemates for being able to sidestep the noises. It doesn't seem to matter how long he lives here, how much he tries to avoid making any noise, it's like the floorboards are determined to creak under Phil's weight. He winces as he passes two bedrooms whose occupants surely don't appreciate creaking outside their doors at such an ungodly hour.

At least he doesn't run into any walls this time. The nightlight in the bathroom at the end of the hall is the only thing lighting Phil's way, and he tends to stub his toes on absolutely nothing in this kind of semi-darkness.

When he makes his - very, very creaky - way back to his own room, he's bewildered by the scene that greets him. PJ and Chris have joined Sophie on his bed, and all three of them are poring over Phil's phone as though they're looking at a map to the Holy Grail.

"Hello," Phil says slowly, closing the door behind him. It creaks, too. "You aren't going through my pictures, are you?"

"No," Sophie and PJ chorus without looking up.

"You got nudes on here or something?" Chris asks with a mild sort of interest, clearly also too engaged in Phil's phone to put his all into the flirting.

"I don't," says Phil. It doesn't sound convincing, even though it's true, and he waits for Chris to tease him about it some more. When he doesn't, Phil has to admit that he's curious. "So I guess it isn't a meme or something?"

That makes them look up, in almost comedic synchronicity. Sophie blinks a few times, as if she's coming back to herself. She holds out Phil's phone and shakes her head.

"It's not a meme," she says. "And near as we can tell, it's genuine."

Phil joins them and takes his phone back, adjusting his glasses. His bed really wasn't made for four people, but his housemates have never had any personal space amongst themselves, and Phil isn't one to say no to human contact when he isn't getting it anywhere else.

The message is just as hard to read as it was at first glance, but Phil puts his brain to work. If his friends are reacting like this, it usually means he's in for something good.

hi ok so the thing is that this is completely ridiculous and i dont think its what youre looking for at all but theres a building near my uni thats got a ton of stories around it and it only started happening like this year like it isnt an old obviously haunted type of place but theres a lot of weird shit that goes down there so i found all the references to it online that i could and ive summarized them here (w/ sources ofc im not a dick) and its all just this side of strange so it seems like the sort of thing you might be interested in ok here we go SO

And it goes on like that. Phil feels his eyebrows raising as he clicks the provided links in the following walls of text, which are exactly what they're advertised as. Not a single rickroll in there. Just a handful of posts on Reddit and Facebook and independent blogs about various experiences people have had with a particular abandoned building in -

"I know this place," Phil says, surprised. He looks up at PJ's grin, Sophie's wide eyes, Chris' palms rubbing together in exaggerated interest. "I've been to parties here. Well, okay," he corrects himself before his friends can do it for him, "I've gone with Martyn to parties here and left early."

"Yeah, it isn't far out of Manchester," PJ hums. He bounces in place a bit, like he's suddenly energized enough to go jump on the soonest train up north.

"It didn't seem that weird," says Phil. "It's been a few years, I guess, but it wasn't even that scary."

"Sounds like it's only just started, though," Chris pipes up.

Phil isn't sure how much he likes that. The idea of a place he's been a few times, half an hour from his childhood home, being so suddenly full of haunted activity feels... weird. Still, it's catching his interest in a way that nothing else has in months, so.

"I'll look into it some more tomorrow," he decides, glancing at the time. His brother is probably still awake, to be honest, but Phil doesn't want to be that guy asking 'hey, do you remember the Wilkins place?' before dawn has even broken. Again. He has definitely done that sort of thing in the past. "I'll have plenty of time while I do, what, seventeen loads of laundry?"

"Something like that," PJ laughs. "Want us to clear out?"

As nice as the company and help has been, Phil still feels a rush of relief at the concept of being left alone again. He nods, still scrolling idly through the Wilkins place submission.

It hits him, very literally, too close to home to ignore. He wonders if his fan knows that, if this is somehow an elaborate prank that will end up just wasting Phil's time, but he's too curious to leave it alone. He'll just have to ask around, see if anyone else has heard these murmurings.

Til then, maybe he ought to try and get some sleep. Phil's computer, still open on the editing software, tempts him.

Well. What's another couple hours at this point?

[apveng]

To Earth 0, With Love (A Supergirl Fan Fiction)

Hey folks, I know this is probably not what many of you had in mind when thinking of SG fanfiction for Covid-19 and quarantine. I know, @venus-kareng, you were thinking of something else. But, I hope all of you will still like it.

I wrote it because I couldn’t bear to look at what is happening around the world, especially the losses in Italy and Iran (and of course what happened in China) and just sit back and hope for the best.

I know, this is nothing. That it will reach just a couple of people. That it is just fanfiction. But, I do hope that it still helps.

I am sure that if Kara of Earth Prime knew, she would have found a way to help. And together with Alex and her Superfriends, would have connected us across the quarantine to give love and friendship to each other.

Fair disclosure: The fic is Danvers Sisters centric and from Alex POV since I find it easier to write Alex. There is Densen, William-Kara (though just group stuff not romance), and mention of Lena (not sure positive but Kara isn’t negative).

To Earth 0, with Love

It was a beautiful evening on Earth Prime. Or, was it Universe Prime given that there are multi-verses? Eh, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Alex had just mastered her Martian weapon, the day was looking beautiful, Leviathan and Lex haven’t done anything terrible yet, and there was time on her hands.

Time to look in on Kara and see if she would be willing to give Alex a workout. And, hanging out would be nice irrespective of that. May be, they could catch up on a show together.

At the loft, Alex found Kara staring at her laptop screen. Her face was pale. Her hands that held the laptop trembled. And her eyes, focused on the screen, was close to spilling over.

What the hell happened?

Alex froze at the doorway, heart clenching at the sight. It was the sight that she hated most in the world. After a moment, she shook herself. She would be damned if she didn’t make whoever it was that caused her Kara pain answer for that pain.

Well, as long as Kara herself didn’t get in the way of that.

Alex went over to her and knelt in front of her. Reaching out, she took one of Kara’s hands in hers, squeezed and then spoke. “Hey! What is the matter? Is it Lena? Or Lex? Has something happened to Nia or Will?”

When Kara didn’t respond, Alex kept rubbing the hand she held until her sister looked up. “Kara, what is the matter? Tell me please. Let me help you.”

“Alex, is it Earth 0.” Kara announced, looking for all the world as if the term should mean something to Alex.

Alex leaned back, still holding onto Kara’s hand. “Umm… I have no idea what you mean by that. Where is Earth 0?”

“Oh! You don’t know.” Kara looked thrown for a moment.

“Kar…”

“Right! Right. Sorry.” Kara set down her laptop, and then stood up, dragging Alex up with her. She dropped Alex’s hand and then stepped back so as to give herself space to pace. Alex sighed and sat down. This would take a while, and her best place to watch and listen was the coach.

“So, Earth 0 is an Earth in another universe.” Kara started.

“I gathered.” Alex noted dryly.

Kara stopped and offered her a small smile. In the next instant though, she sobered up. Alex would so love to find out what had brought that expression onto her sister’s face. She would probably punch it until it left.

“They don’t have any visible superheroes of our kind. You know, the aliens, rich vigilantes, metahumans…like we have in Earth Prime and others? There are everyday superheroes, and first responders etc… but not…”

“Not, Supergirl.” Alex interjected a tad impatiently.

“Right! Cisco had set up a device for all of us, Barry, me and everyone, so that we can keep track of the multi-verse goings on. So, that another crisis won’t take us unawares.”

“So, you think another crisis is coming now?” Alex asked her brows drawing together. That was not good news.

“Alex! Will you let me speak?” Kara pouted.

Alex raised her hands in surrender. “Right. Go on.”

“There is a pandemic spreading on Earth 0 now. Thousands are dying Alex. Across the whole planet. Wait. You need to see this and then, you will understand.” Kara came over to Alex, tilted her laptop so that Alex can see it and then showed her a few images.

It took some time for the visuals to sink in and then, Alex was no longer surprised at the tears in Kara’s eyes.

A dashboard showed thousands of deaths from Earth 0 China, though thankfully, Alex noted, the graph seemed to have plateaued. But, not so the case with Iran and Italy. She saw images of military vehicles that were taking the dead away. People in Iran who couldn’t say the last prayers over their loved one as their dead bodies were cleared.

And, many other countries weren’t spared either.

Grandparents not able to touch or even be in the vicinity of their new-born grandchildren. Disabled, people, poor people, left without adequate resources. Left jobless. Chinese and Asian people coming under racist attacks in other places. Native Americans going without resources in the bare number of hospitals they had. Refugees, migrants in detention centres, and prisoners under threat of infection and death. Poor nations across the global South struggling with inadequate healthcare infrastructure. Nurses and doctors tiring themselves to death across the planet trying to make do with a fraction of the equipment they needed. Scientists rushing to create vaccines, their heart in their throats and the knowledge that even the fastest process wouldn’t get them vaccines fast enough to save the many that would die between now and then.

It was a tale a devastation written across the surface of the planet, and it was heart breaking to watch.

But, what could they do?

She looked up to see Kara looking at her, an intense expression in her blue eyes.

Normally, that expression meant trouble for someone. In this case, Alex didn’t know what to make of it.

“What do you want to do Kara?”

“I want to help Alex.”

“I know, Kar. But, this isn’t our Earth. You said that they don’t even have Superheroes. How can we help? You know we cannot do anything that changes their reality drastically. That could have disastrous consequences.”

Kara started pacing as she considered the problem. Alex sat down to watch her eyes turned firmly away from the visuals on the laptop. The rules they played by meant that unless it was a problem that affected the multi-verse, they would not interfere in each other’s activities. They have seen what that kind of interference can bring. It was best for Earth 0 to find their way out of this crisis themselves.

“What is it that you want when you fall sick, Alex?” Kara asked after a while.

Alex raised her eyebrows at the question. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Just answer.” The blue eyes fixed intently on Alex. “Please Alex.”

Alex sighed and then, against her will answered, mainly because she knew Kara knew the answer anyways. “Comfort food. Preferably the rhubarb pie you bake. Lots of science journals to read if weapons training is out of the question… and…” Alex hesitated here. These words didn’t come easily to her.

“Go on.” Kara encouraged.

“If you could come by, you know… Just for a little while…” Alex shrugged. “I mean, it is no big deal, of course. And besides,” Alex paused and then said as nonchalantly as possible. “I am sure Kelly can come over anyways… In fact, I’d want her to… and…” Kelly was her girlfriend. And, it was alright to want that comfort, right? But, Kara. Kara would have better, world-saving things to do. As would her mother for that matter. Besides, she was a grown woman. Needing familial comfort sounded not very independent.

She couldn’t continue because she was bounced over by Kara who took her in a tight embrace. “of course, I’d come over, silly. In fact, I’d stay right by you until you have recovered. And, I’d be best because I am Kryptonian and no human disease can hurt me.”

“Exactly! That is what I meant of course. You can come over and make rhubarb and chocolate pecan pie for me.”

Kara laughed at the deflection and sat back. “So, what do you think the people of Earth 0 would want?”

“Something that you could give without causing any terrible disruption?” Alex asked finally catching on.

“Right. I can cook for them. And, get people to cook as well.” Kara stood up, her demeanour business like. “So, that is what I am going to do.”

“How can I help? You cannot take care of a whole planet by yourself.”

“I cannot cook by the way.” Alex added hastily in case Kara got the wrong idea.

Kara snorted. “I know that. You can help by getting all the gang together and asking them to pitch in. And then directing everything.”

And, just like that, they had a mission and a means to help.

*****************************************************************************************

Soon, they had the Superfriends gathered in Kara’s loft ready to help. Alex had made sure to include not just Kelly, William, Nia and J’onn but Brainy as well. He may be acting weird these days, but he would still want to help. She was sure of that.

Once they had explained the situation, Nia spoke up. “Do you think we could ask Lena to help? May be she could work on a vaccine or something.”

“Right! It’d really help the God and Saviour complex she has.” Alex murmured.

“Alex!” Kara admonished. She shook her head at Nia. “We can’t. Even if Lena trusted me enough to help, and I don’t know that she will, we cannot do anything that’d play with the future of Earth 0 unnaturally. Brainy, I am right, am I not?”

“Yes!” Brainy, waved at the tablet he held. “If we do any massive interventions in a world that hasn’t been exposed to powers like us, we have no idea what that might bring. There is a 98% chance that it’d cause massive pain and suffering before things stabilised.”

“But, it is a whole planet, Kara. How will we few people help a whole planet?” Kelly asked. Alex’s girlfriend knew that Kara was Supergirl. But as she frequently said, there are limitations even to Supergirl’s superpowers.

“I am not entirely sure.” Kara admitted. “Any ideas?”

“How about we let the people of Earth 0 help each other?” J’onn asked. “We could just be the messengers, the bringer and taker of gifts and help. If we keep everything underground, nobody needs to know that it is us that is helping.”

“That is a wonderful idea, J’onn.” Alex looked with some admiration at her mentor, ex boss and friend. He always had the soundest advice. “Kara. We could still go with the food thing. But, we could get a message across to the people of the least affected regions, especially migrants in those places, to cook stuff that they know their people back home would like.”

“And I can Super express the food to them. That is wonderful, Alex.” Kara beamed at Alex. Alex grinned at the enthusiasm in her sister’s eyes.

“Yes. And, just knowing that people are there wishing them the best; that they are not alone, would be a huge morale booster for people.” Kelly nodded.

“Remember” Brainy warned. “We need to have everything hidden. Nobody should know it is us doing it.”

“And, if the governments and corporations of Earth 0 are lagging behind, as of course they’d be, may be, we can see what we can do to get the message across to everybody.” William said. Trust Will to look at it from a journalistic angle. He looked across at everybody. “You know, get the message of those neglected and most vulnerable to the broader public.”

“I can help you with that Will.” Nia offered.

Kara clapped her hands. “Right, we have a plan. So, get going everybody. We have a planet to save. Or, at least, love so that they can keep hope alive.”

*****************************************************************************************

The next few hours were gone in planning and getting everything ready. Kara got Cisco, Barry and Sara to help her get across to Earth 0 with her friends. Once they knew the details, Barry and Sara and co wanted to help too, so that their group had swelled when they reached their destination.

On Earth 0, they first set up a networking page and then went about gathering support from people all over the world who are willing and able to help. Their message, simple.

Hi! We are friends of Supergirl the comic book hero. We know that you are scared and feeling helpless right now. We want to help, especially the people of China, Iran and Italy who are reeling from terrible loss. And the other nations of the world, no matter the continent, who are fighting to protect themselves.

Do you have a message to take to any of these countries?

A favourite food that you know a friend in Iran would love?

A message of love that’d make an Italian find solace for a moment?

Dumplings and applause for friends and relatives in China that have just gone through one of the worst quarantines in history and come out better on the other side?

Notes of calm for people across the world who are scared?

Messages to the governments and rich people?

Let us know and we will get your messages across to them.

For hours nothing happened. It was a good thing that the motion of time in this universe didn’t affect Earth Prime, or they’d have been wasting hours.

“Brainy, could you somehow boost the message?” Kara asked finally.

Brainy tapped out a few commands onto his tablet and then looked up. “Done!”

Soon the messages started trickling in.

“I don’t know if this is real or not, but if you could, could you take some Baozi to my daughter in China? Are you sure it won’t get spoiled? May be a paper message would be better, but I can always chat online.”

“We can take your food. Don’t worry.” Nia typed out.

“It was Nowruz in Iran just a couple of days back. I’d like to have you take some sweets to people there. Anyone, since I don’t have any relatives there. I just want them to know that we are here and thinking of them. Could you do that?” Another asked.

“I feel so sad for my friends in Italy, right now. If only I could hug them…” Someone else send in.

“Could someone tell the United States Congress that the sovereign native nations are lacking in medical equipment and important healthcare infrastructure to beat Corona? We are looking at a disaster if somebody doesn’t help.”

Soon they had an ocean of messages that they needed to work through. Alex felt overwhelmed at the amount they had to get through. How would they?

“Kara” She called. “Umm. Remember what Kelly said? About us being not very many? How will we get through this whole list? Even with you and Barry and Sara and Waverider, we cannot get to everyone. Besides, even with these many messages, so many people in the affected countries are going to feel left out. We can’t do anything that make them question their reality.”

“We will not fail them.” Kara said firmly. “Alex, you are director Danvers. Together, we should be able to do this.”

Alex straightened at the firm belief in Kara’s voice and eyes.

“Okay, okay. Hold on a minute.” She paused and thought. “Alright! The messages and calling governments to task are the easy bit. Will, write articles on the Native American bit and the Iran sanctions and Brainy can boost it. Nia will help. We need US congress to react now. And, send them to Billionaires as well. All that money should help with something. And, once that is done, turn your eyes to Kashmir and the lockdown there… and keep looking for similar neglect all over the world.”

“The incarcerated people. They’d be vulnerable. So many there for non-violent crimes. May be not even right ones.” Nia spoke up.

“Refugee camps.” J’onn said. “And, poor and vulnerable around the world. Many may not be even able to practice social distancing in crowded cities.”

Will nodded and got to work with Nia sorting out the messages.

“The food and gifts and messages for everyone…” Alex started and then stopped. Kara could of course Super express them to everyone but how to ensure that they have enough; and that people know it is safe.

“Our own Earth’s people.” Nia piped up. “That is right.” Kelly said. “They know about the Supers’ superpowers. And, there’d be Italians, Iranians, Chinese, and all the countries of Earth 0 represented. We can get them to help.”

“In the middle of Leviathan?” Brainy asked doubtfully.

“They will not know. People need the gestures of love and friendship, Querl. Let anybody willing to help, help. We will get our love across to them.” Kara explained.

While Alex directed the Earth 0 efforts, Kara went to Earth Prime and wheedled, cajoled and at times, pleaded with people to help her send gifts of love across the multi-verse. Most of them were ready to help their beloved Supergirl and Flash.

Once Kara, Barry and Sara got back, they got to work delivering the gifts.

And, thus it was that people across the planet on Earth 0 suddenly found themselves receiving paper mails, food and gifts from loved ones and fellow humans across the world. These gifts had to be checked over of course. But, they were delivered all the same. And, notes were left with them with messages from their fellow humans so that nobody got scared about the origins of the messages. With all of them, to their surprise, the people also found an additional note from a Kara Zor El and a Barry Allen, with Super-Flash-Legends friends in the margin.

“Hello friend.

You know those superhero comic books and shows some of you watch. They may not be real. We are not saying that the characters brought to life so wonderfully by Melissa Benoist and Chyler Leigh and Caity Lotz and Grant Gustin and all the CW peeps are true to life. But, the ideals they work towards, the love, friendship and fellowship, they are real. And, this is our way of showing it to you. Even if you don’t watch any of the CW shows, we hope that you would still be cheered by what we bring.

May your, I mean, our entire planet recover soon and come out stronger on the other side.

May Rao grant it so.

-Kara, Barry, Sara and teams.”

To Alex’s surprise and gratification, most people understood their gifts as coming from loved ones across the world. And were heartened by them. Governments and billionaires did consider the messages that came to them and at least, some of them vowed to help. She and Sara made sure that reporters and activists knew of the promises so that they can use that when they pressure their governments. They ensured that people knew who to thank and who was holding the governments and the rich to account. The activists and people who first raised these issues.

There were some mishaps where people, suspicious of the packages coming out of nowhere, alerted the authorities and got them destroyed. Some conspiracy theories surfaced in the inter-webs. Others stirred up trouble. Brainy suppressed all of them. It was not quite right but given that the Earth 0 intervention itself was slightly questionable, Alex ignored it.

At the end of the day though, it seemed like they, and more importantly, the people from Earth 0 and their friends who they had wanted to help, as well as their dopplegangers from Earth Prime, had managed to tip the balance in hope’s favour.

As J’onn said, that was all they could have hoped for anyways. That given opportunity, people would want to help each other Superheroes or no. And, they had wanted to.

As they always will.

By the end of it, Kara was looking bright and hopeful. As were their friends.

With hearts heavy and full, the Superfriends returned to Earth Prime.

*****************************************************************************************

Once all their friends, including Kelly who had some work at Obsidian and William who had a deadline to meet, had left, Kara turned to Alex.

“That didn’t turn out so badly, did it? See, what hope can do?”

“Hmm…” Alex waved a paper at her sister and best friend. “There is one problem though.”

“What?” Kara tried to snatch the paper away from Alex, but Alex danced away.

“Ha, no. Not that easily Supergirl.” After a bit of chasing around the loft, finally Kara gave up and pouted. With a laugh, Alex gave in.

“You have said ‘your planet’ in the message. And, signed your names as Kara, Barry, Sara and teams instead of friends of the CW Superheroes.”

Kara read the paper and then frowned. “Oh! I had been very careful.” She pointed at the words. “See, I corrected it to ‘our planet’ too.”

“But left in the ‘your’ there.” Alex returned mercilessly. “And, there is an invocation of Rao there too.”

“Damn!” Kara looked so thoroughly disheartened that Alex relented.

With a laugh, she slung an arm around Kara’s shoulder and pulled her in. “Never mind. They’d just think it is a prank from one of the fans of Melissa Benoist or Chyler Leigh.”

“Oh yes. Those actors that play Kara and Alex in the Earth 0 show, Supergirl.” Kara’s face brightened.

“Yep! An entire show in your name Kara, who would have thought.”

Kara grinned. “I wish I could have watched an episode.”

“Why an episode. Why not the whole series?” Alex waved a USB in front Kara’s face.

“You got the whole series!” Kara exclaimed jubilantly. “Alex!”

“Yes, and we are going to watch it. Before we get back into the Lex and Leviathan stuff.”

Within minutes they were on the couch watching the Earth 0 Supergirl show. The Lex and Leviathan could wait. Just for a little bit.

Supergirl and Alex had a show to catch up with.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #230

“this is where i wanna grow old, so i’m just praying i don’t make parole.”

Has a movie ever made you cry? Yeup. Do you smile open-mouthed or closed-mouthed? Usually open. I look higher with my mouth closed, lol. What gaming systems do you own? A PS2, Wii, gaming laptop, DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance. Do you know anyone else with your last name other than family? Not off the top of my head. Is your favorite band still together? Yeah. Any movies your looking forward to seeing? I want to see both Joker and IT: Chapter II. Where do you see most of your concerts? Only been to one, which was in Raleigh. Have you ever had escargot? No, I NEVER will. Do you like chocolate popsicles? Hell yeah. Do you save seats for your friends in class? I don't have real friends at college yet, just like a couple acquaintances. Back in high school and younger, I did occasionally with my purse or something. Depended on where we were. How many people do you know with red hair? I don't care enough to count, honestly. Three off the very top of my head. Have you ever wondered what you look like when you’re sleeping? Yeah. Are your parents proud of you? I mean they say so, but I doubt it a lot. Would you ever be your schools mascot who wears that costume? NO. Those sound so gross and hot. Have you ever had a pet fish? Multiple. What age did you start staying home alone? Idr. Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Big Ben appeals to me more, but the Great Wall would probably impress me more. Can you do a handstand? Nope. What’s a brand of shoe you like, but wouldn’t buy a pair? I like studded and spiked high heels like, A LOT. Are you reading any books right now? Not currently. Sara sent me the first Wings of Fire book because I'm interested in reading it, I just normally read at school when I have no work to do, and for a looooong while now I have always been busy doing schoolwork while I wait in the library for Mom to finish her classes. Any plans for tomorrow? No. Who did you last take a picture with? My kitty. How do you like your chicken? Breaded, typically. Like as nuggets and such. What’s your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. What song are you listening to? I've been binging the "I Don't Wanna Be Free" song from AHWM since it came out man. It's not even biased, Mark's voice has just gotten so fucking GOOD and I'm so proud and in love- Do you have any bruises? No. What’s the last thing you googled? How to make a rounded border of a square in Photoshop bc I forgot while making stuff for Sara. How often do you use a real dictionary? Never. They're pretty much obsolete. When you were little did your mom ever sing to you? Yeah. What’s the reason you last laughed really hard? Um idr. Who do you sit with at lunch? I don't go to the school cafe, so. How long have your parents been together? They were together like... I wanna say 18 years? Somewhere around 20. What’s your favorite kind of Gatorade? EW none. Out of all your friends, whose house have you stayed at the most? I really don't have any current friends whose houses I've gone to. So Sara, if you count her. Who is one person you couldn’t imagine life without? My mom. The idea of her dying is fucking terrifying beyond possible words for me. What’s your favorite Disney movie? The Lion King. Are you camera shy? Yes bc I hate my body. Just let me be behind it. Are you politically correct? It really depends on what the subject is. We've become too politically "correct" if you ask me. I'd honestly say I'm mostly not. Eh, idk. Again, it depends. Speaking of politics, do they tend to overexcite you? Quite the opposite, they bore the hell out of me. Are your parents Democratic, Republican, or neither? I'm quite sure Dad is a Republican, but I'm really not sure; Mom, meanwhile, I think she leans more towards Democrat, but fits the "Independent" title well. My stepmother is ANNOYINGLY far-right. I almost regret adding her on FB. What’s the worst household chore? When you don't have a dishwasher, hand-washing dishes. I fucking hate it. Do you get along better with boys or girls, and why? I only say girls because I'm afraid of men. I can befriend a man perfectly fine, just I am going to be VERY paranoid and anxious in the early stages of knowing him. Do you love dreaming? Honestly, I'd almost prefer not to dream, I think. I barely remember mine anyways, and I like the feeling of waking up after a DEEP sleep. Maaaany of my dreams/nightmares involve Jason anyway, so I'd just rather not deal with 'em. Do you have any conditions that you need medication for? I refuse to come off my bipolarity medications. They're the reason I'm not a suicidal tragedy anymore. I could survive without my anxiety meds, but I'd sure prefer not to. What’s a recurring theme in dreams? (I often dream about rollercoasters.) Most of my nightmares/terrors involve me getting into an altercation of some sort, and I'm always unable to defend myself. Should everybody have affordable health insurance? Fuck yes they should. You shouldn't have to go fucking bankrupt to stay alive, goddamn. This subject gets me heated as hell. Creation or evolution? Evolution. Do you have terrible memory? My memory is so incredibly bad I've had borderline anxiety attacks that I have early-onset dementia lmfao. What do you think is the most peaceful religion? I'm not knowledgeable enough on this, but off the top of my head, Buddhism? If you’re feeling frightened, what thoughts tend to comfort you? I am such a baby. It helps me in a lot of situations if my mom is with me. What year were you born in? 1996. What is the best decade for music? '80s, maybe. Or 2000s. Are you prejudiced against anybody? (Other races, gays, etc.) No. Are you a licensed driver? No, but I have my permit. I'm too scared and inexperienced to get my license because I'm too hesitant to drive enough. Do you have any regrets? Yeah. Is there anything you wish you could say to someone right now? I'm going to wish I could tell Jason I'm sorry 'til the day I die, probably. There's things I wanna tell Megan, Hannia... a few people. What time do you normally wake up? If I don't have my 8 AM class, it can range from like, 6-9 AM. Is there anyone not in life anymore, that you wish still was? Plenty of people. What’s your favorite type of bird? Barn owls. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 112. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it? Uhhhh. The actual town-town I live in is like three minutes away or so, so there's a large amount. I guess the closest is... a dollar store, probably? When was the last time you made out with somebody? A long time ago. What TV show(s) have you been watching currently? None. How many apps do you have on your phone? Just six, but I can't even update one because my phone has such little memory. What pet names do you use with your significant other? Besides the normal ones like "hunny" and stuff, "pretty woman" and then (THEY'RE JOKES/REFERENCES OK) "Bubblebutt" and "Candyass" lmfao. Do you have to wear a name badge where you work? N/A Do you have a dress code or have to wear a uniform where you work? N/A Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? For less than a day. I wouldn't date one now, no. What is your mother’s first name? Donna. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? More like I share it with every white female on Earth. Have there ever been any bushfires/wildfires in your area? Small ones. How would you label your sexual orientation? Bisexual. Have you ever been a member in a band? No. What’s your favorite kind of accent? English. Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Well, I have a separate school email. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. None of us anticipated the airport would take so long. Are you someone who always needs a coffee before you can function? No. Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? Yes!! Do you know your significant other’s passwords? No, and I don't need to. I have a respect for privacy. What’s your favorite type of salad? Just lettuce with dressing, really. Cucumbers in there is okay, though. Lobster dip or crab dip? Ew. Do you shop at Goodwill? No. Do you make grocery lists? I don't do the grocery shopping, so. When is your next doctor’s appointment? I see my psychiatrist uhhh next week I think, then my main doctor is referring me to a dietitian per my request as of a couple days ago. Do you own a pair of feather earrings? No. Elephants or lions? Visually, lions, but as animals themselves, elephants. What color do you want to dye your hair next? Silver. Do you decorate for Easter? Not anymore, really. We don't decorate for almost anything at this point. Do you have a car? I don't have a license, so why even. Are you the same size you were ten years ago? Bitch I fuckin WISH. Do people mistake you for a teenager? No. Do you know what you want to do for your next birthday? Get a tattoo and have that gd heavenly drink Sara's dad made me once that Changed My Life. Do you know anyone who’s started a business and been successful? I have an old real photographer friend. Strawberry or watermelon? Strawberries. I'm actually not a big fan of watermelon; it's typically too bland to me. If it's sweet, then hell yeah. What new hobby are you thinking of starting? What's a "hobby." Were you ever a team captain of anything? No. Something I find boring is… TV, usually. If I could give my mother an award it would be for… Her dedication and hard work that's probably unmatched. The most memorable costume I’ve worn is… Idr. My personal hero is… Mark. M-A-R-K. Mark. Markiplier. Fischfuck. Have you heard of Mark Fischbach? An author whose work changed my life is… None. Are you happy with yourself on the outside? (explain) No, but just because I'm overweight. Otherwise, I guess I'd be. Are you happy with yourself on the inside? (explain) Mostly, at least. There're things I hate, things I want to change, all that. Do you take responsibility for your actions? Yes. Do you treat yourself well? Eh. Is there something nobody knows about you (& what)? Yeah, and I'd prefer for it to stay that way. If in a relationship, do you feel you could "do better"? No. Feel like I don't deserve her half the time. Do you have any mental disorders? lol Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Money or love? Love. Have you done anything to make someone dislike you (& what)? Not on purpose. Multiple things. Mostly making ridiculous opinions I've had in the past known. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No and no. Would you rather be remembered for something bad or forgotten? Forgotten. Do you boss around your friends, or give in to what they want to do? The latter by far. Do you donate or volunteer as much as you could? I don't have money to donate. I don't have transportation or time for volunteering. Do you believe in a god (& why or why not)? Yeah, 'cuz the Big Bang Theory just doesn't make sense to me. Compacted nothing exploding into everything. But by this point in my life, I really don't care if there is or isn't. Are you spoiled? No. How do you ease anxiety? Deep breathing, music, talking to Mom or Sara... Do you avoid physically unattractive people, even before knowing them? Oh my god. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? NO. NO. THE GUILT WOULD BE FUCKING ASTRONOMICAL. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm oh y'know I don't have a clue it's not like I love one (1) male homosapien- Are you over-protective of anyone? Maybe Sara. I'm not sure if it reaches the "over" level. What do you think of the name Xiomara (zeo-marah)? Cool as hell, man. Who did you receive your latest notification from? On Facebook? Uhhhhh *checks* my childhood babysitter liked something. How do you know the last person you were in a car with? I came out of her lmao so I mean- Do you support PETA? They are WAY too extreme. Do you honestly hate anyone? My old doctor that fucking destroyed my body. Do you go to church? No. Have you ever been depressed? I've had chronic depression since the 7th grade, so- Or are you a generally happy person? I'm usually just content. Do you think you are a good friend? Yeah. Usually. What is your usual username on sites? "Ozzkat" (rarely with a "0" if it's somehow taken) almost everywhere. Celeb crush? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Non celeb crush? My girlfriend. /v\ Bad habit you are trying to fix? Procrastinating on homework las;djfa;weiraweawer Would you rather go to school or have a job? I'd rather have a goddamn job that I can actually do and enjoy. What is your major? Organismal biology. Favorite cookie? Chocolate chip. Favorite flavor? Strawberry, chocolate... depends on what we're talkin' about. Candles or incense? INCENSE. Would you ever have an abortion? Probably if I was raped. Idk. What do you want for your birthday from your bf or gf? It'd be amazing if she could be here. Favorite flavor of milk? Chocolate. Something you like to do alone? Watch YouTube, draw, write. Something you like doing with friends? Vidya games, go out to see a movie or bowl or something, just hang out and chat. Thick or thin blanket? T H I C C Do you walk around barefoot in your house? Who wears shoes in their house????? tf??????????? u ok?????????????? Do you have a ring on your ring finger? No. Do you know how to type home row? Yeah, that's how I type.

[funsize-lucifer-hongjoong]

We Are Stars For Each Other

Genre - Fuffy eventual Smut

Female Reader x Hongjoong

Word count - 3,379

                        Chapter 2 : Combat Boots and Leather Skirts

The next morning you wake up earlier than you expected. The warmth spreading through you at the dream you had woken up from. Grey hair and your hands running through it, whispers and moans. Once you fully open your eyes you can’t believe your own mind going there. “Damn brain, we got some good taste in men.” All the while trying to remember the dream that is quickly being lost to the morning light.

Getting out of bed has always been a chore to you. You’d rather just stay there and live your best life. Anxiety had made your life Hell for years, and you knew the bedroom was your safe space. You do eventually get up, begrudgingly so. Groaning as your knees pop on standing and stretching.

Your normal morning routine consists of coffee, breakfast of some description, a shower, and pajamas on your days off. What a lovely day off it is too. Min Seo had a meeting with someone and you had the entire apartment to yourself. You grabbed up your laptop, plopping down on the couch.

“Let’s see who these boys are, shall we?” Your fingers begin to run across the keys. You’re searching every site typing in ATEEZ and every other keyword you could think of until you come across a Kpop Wiki page for them. “Hmm, Kim Hongjoong, 21 years old, Rapper, leader, and main composer.” You start to scroll down, but stop yourself, and quickly scroll back up to read it again. “Wait, What the hell?! He’s a composer?! Like he writes his own music? Wow. Big things in small packages, I guess.” You shrug and continue reading. Eventually making your way to Jung Wooyoung, “Oh, he’s beautiful. He looks like the devil and an Angel all at once, if that’s even possible.” Your absent mind can barely scroll past his picture to get to his bio below. “Jung Wooyoung, 19 years old, Lead dancer, vocalist, and visual.” You continue scrolling a bit farther, “What the hell is a visual? I mean he’s gorgeous if that’s what it stands for. I need to learn more about this K-pop stuff.”

That’s how your day remains, on the couch in your pajamas reading everything you can about K-pop and this group called Ateez. You listen to all their songs, and pick your favorites, numerous dance videos and performances live and otherwise. Soon enough, you stumble upon the glorious fancam, and you make it through all of Wooyoung’s that you can find until you hear the door beep, as Min Seo unlocks it. “Oh no, I can’t let her know, she’ll never let me live it down after trashing K-pop for so long.” You slam your laptop closed, throwing it on the table in front of the couch, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Hey Y/N, how was your day?” Min Seo yells from the entryway.

“Ugh, boring and uneventful as usual. Would you expect anything different?” You reply as she walks into the living room to sit down at the other end of the couch.

“Honestly? No probably not. You’re a boring person.” You roll your eyes at her, “Jeeze, Thanks Minie. I really appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome!”, She chirps as she flicks on the Tv and changes it to some variety show she watches regularly.

The evening is spent with your best friend. You order in for dinner and while watching a movie together, she pipes up out of nowhere, “Hey, um, I know you weren’t crazy about the fan sign event, but Ateez has a concert next weekend. There’s going to be another Hi-touch and I really want to see San again. I think I’m getting somewhere with him!”

You lay your head back against the couch, trying to pretend you didn’t really want to go, even if you did. “When is it Minie?” You say with a sigh.

“It’s Friday night. You could do the Hi-touch yourself this time. Meet them, and maybe if you talk to them you’ll like them more. I’ll pay for everything, all you have to do is show up.”

You look over at Min Seo, “You’ll pay for everything, even dinner where I want to eat after?” She turns her full body towards you on the couch excitement flashing on her face. “Even dinner wherever you want, and drinks too. I promise.”

You side eye her with your head on the back of the couch, “Alright Minie, I’ll go, but don’t expect me to fall head over heels in love with any of them. I’m just doing this because you bribed me with free food and alcohol.” Though deep down you know, that’s all a lie.

As the days pass, you get more nervous. Anxiety flaring in your stomach, making your head swim. “I’m going to be touching them, should I get my nails done? Shit, I can’t have my nails done, I have to work and they don’t allow it.” Your brain runs through these thoughts constantly. What will you wear? How will you wear your hair? Will you wear any makeup? You know you want to make a good impression on Wooyoung. “He probably has a girlfriend anyway, and why would an Idol want someone like me.” Your confidence took a nose dive from its already low point.

In your turmoil, you hear a knock on your bedroom door. “Come in, it’s open.” Min Seo opens the door, and walks in, sitting at the edge of your bed beside you, seeing the outfits thrown haphazardly around the room. “Are you trying to find something to wear for Friday?” She asks you gently. “Yeah, but I don’t have anything but pajamas and work clothes Minie. I wore the only casual type outfit I had last time. I can’t wear it again.” you put your head down, the facade of you trying to act like you didn’t want to go, was crumbling away fast.

Min Seo’s face lights up, “I’ve got so many different outfits you could try on! I’m sure I’ve got something for you to wear.” With that being said she jumps up and runs out your door, down the hall, and into her room. You stand and follow her, not knowing if you’ve made a mistake or not.

Hours pass, and you’ve tried on all of her tops and a few pairs of jeans. “No Skirts, Minie! I don’t wear them unless I’m working.”

“Come on, Y/N. Just this one. it doesn’t look anything like the skirts you wear to work. It’ll be so cute on you!” She pushes what looks like a leather jacket into your hands, “Try it on!” You roll your eyes and look up, saying in a hushed voice “God, please help me not to strangle this poor girl and get sent back home. Amen.” Without too much more fuss, you pull on a leather mini skirt, it has belts crossing the front with tiny skulls on, and a red plaid patch on the hip. “Hey, this isn’t bad, Min Seo. My ass looks like a dream.” You say, looking at yourself in the mirror on her closet door.

She puts her hands on her hips, “Y/N! Language!” You smile at her, “Yeah well Minie, when your ex used to stay over I heard much worse than the word ass. These walls are paper thin, dear.” You wink at her, and her face turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before. You start to laugh, then you double over, tears leaking from your eyes. “Calm down, Min Seo. It was just a joke, but seriously did he really make you call him Daddy?” You ask with a quizzical look on your face.

Playfully slapping at you as her embarrassment flares, “Oh go on! Take it and get out! You’re making me remember the trash can I once dated, and yes, I called him daddy.” She says as she pushes you out the door, still in the skirt. You fall over into the floor howling with laughter as she slams her door in mock anger. Slowly getting up to walk into your room and change back into your trademark sweatpants, still wiping tears away from the occasional laughing fit that overtakes you.

Friday is upon you before you know it. You rush out of work early and even spend the extra money to get a cab home. “I’ve got 2 hours to get ready, and an hour to be there, that’s not nearly enough time.” There’s that anxiety rearing it’s ugly head again.

When you walk in the apartment, you don’t have time to worry. Min Seo is already home and practically shoving you into the shower. “Hurry Y/N, we need to get you fed and dressed before we leave!” You jump in the shower, washing as fast as you possibly can, and brushing your teeth while you’re in there. You turn off the water and wrap a towel around yourself. No sooner do you step out and dry off is Min Seo shoving you again, this time into her room. Your outfit laid out neatly on her bed.

“Y/N, do you have any cute panties?” She asks while pulling out her makeup and laying it across the bed.

“Excuse you Minie. Do I have any what?!” You raise your eyebrows in surprise at her asking such a forward question, she always seemed so shy.

“I asked if you had any cute panties. This skirt is short, and if the unexpected happens then at least you can be happy knowing you showed them your best.” You cock up your eyebrow before thinking about it. “Yeah, actually I do have a red lace pair of high cut boy shorts, but those are for special occasions, not to mention the price I paid for them. ”

“Y/N, it’s been a year. You haven’t been laid ONCE. Not one time. I’ve introduced you to a hundred different guys, and none of them made you go as far as you’re going right now.” She looks down, putting different shades of eyeshadow on her hand. She brings her hand up next to your face. “Ah, well since you’re wearing red panties, let’s go with it.” She says smiling brightly, and all you can do is groan at the whirlwind of makeup brushes and curling irons.

It takes just at 2 hours for you to get ready, and when Min Seo is done you stare at yourself in the mirror. A red high collared shirt with sheer sleeves, the leather mini skirt, your favorite red panty set, fishnet hose, and Min Seo’s combat boots. You barely recognize yourself. Your lips are stained red like you’ve eaten a popsicle. Your eyes are dark, glitter across them, and your skin looks amazing. Your hair lays across your shoulders in curls. All the while thinking to yourself, “This is how Minie pulls it off, eh? Hours of work, but the results are pretty good”

Min Seo, throws her handbag over her arm, looking back at you. “Hey Y/N? Why are you going all out like this, if you don’t really like it anyway?” Oh no, you’re caught out, best just to tell the truth and let her have her fun. “Well Minie, I can’t lie to you. I’ve been kind of obsessed with these guys since you took me last time.” She squeals with delight, grabbing your hands, she asks you, “Who’s your bias?! Is it Hongjoong?! It better not be San, you know I called him first.” You start to laugh, but stop yourself, “No it isn’t San or Hongjoong. It’s Wooyoung.”

“Ooooh Y/N likes the bad boys does she?” She gives you a sly smile as she shuts the door behind you both. You grab your phone and call a cab. Your nerves flare again, this is it, your chance to make an impression on Wooyoung. Let’s just hope this works.

As you’re getting out of the cab, you see why Min Seo told you to wear cute panties. You can feel a slight breeze, and you know you were keeping your legs together as politely as possible. Walking up to the venue, your heart starts to race, seeing those same posters but now they mean something entirely different. You look at Wooyoung’s face, and down at yourself. “I hope this works.” You think as you close your eyes, trying to calm your heart. Min Seo is pulling at your arm, “Come on we have to hurry, the line will be so long if we take our time.” You start to move faster, as fast as possible in a mini skirt and boots.

Before you know it, you’re in the line. Wringing your hands, and breathing heavily. You see them, all sitting at their table. Not having had a chance to learn all their names yet, the only ones you can spot are San, Wooyoung, and HongJoong. They’re all at the far end. You breath deeply as Min Seo sits in front of the first boy, she says a few words, he smiles at her, and she moves on. Clearly making a beeline for San. You sit in front of him next, he seems nice enough as do the others, but he isn’t who you’re waiting for. When you sit in front of San, Min Seo is with Wooyoung, and you feel a pang of jealousy.

“Hello beautiful, your friend told me you’re new to this” San says in a low voice, patting your hand gently. “Uh…Um, Yeah, I uh, don’t know much about pop music at all” You reply back, squeaking a bit. Then you overhear Min Seo next to you, “My best friend, Y/N says you’re her bias Wooyoung. Be nice to her won’t you?” You could kill her right now and send her to Jesus. Tapping her leg frantically “Minie, shut it will you?!” She just smiles and moves down to HongJoong, at the same time you’re moving down a chair, to sit in front of one of the most beautiful guys you’ve ever seen.

You sit in front of him, and you take a few seconds to soak it all in. His eyes are soft, and with his contacts in, they look like the morning sky. His nose is slightly sloped, and his jaw looks as though it were cut from granite. You can’t help thinking to yourself, “He can’t possibly be real.” This is your chance to make some kind of impression on him. “Hi Wooyoung, I’m Y/N.” He lifts his eyes and smiles widely, “Aw Y/N it’s nice to meet you. I’m glad Min Seo brought you here, she told me I’m your bias.” He smirks, and your cheeks flush a rosy shade. “You are, I think you’re an incredible dancer, and singer. You’re amazing.” He barely looks up, seemingly uninterested, your face falls a bit. Your confidence goes with it. His reply is quick and sounds almost robotic, “Thanks sweetheart, enjoy the show.” You smile at him and bow slightly, but your heart feels like it’s been smashed now.

You stand and move to sit with Hongjoong, Min Seo was waiting for you at the end of the line. He notices your outfit, and unlike Wooyoung he’s very impressed. Almost a bit bashful, which is new for him. He immediately remembers you and grabs your hand playing with your fingers. “Hello gorgeous, what’s your name?” You register him speaking to you, and look up almost in a daze, “Oh, uhm, it’s Y/N. You’re Hongjoong?” He smiles and you notice right away his teeth are nearly perfect, and so are his lips.

“You look like you’re actually enjoying yourself this time, unlike the last time I saw you.” He dips his head as he says this, catching your eyes again. You blush, this time it spreads down your neck, and you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “Yeah, I wasn’t into this stuff, until I saw you guys. It changed the way I view pop music.” You try to avoid his gaze, he had contacts in and they were a shade of lavender and grey. They matched him well, you thought.

“You’re blushing for me, it’s adorable, can I call you Pink cheeks from now on?” You think he’s joking, but upon looking at him you can tell he’s quite serious. Without putting too much thought into it you reply, “Sure, why not? Can I call you shorty?” He balks at that and Wooyoung laughs beside him. Hongjoong leans in closer, just before you’re supposed to get up and whispers softly “Sure you can, but only if you promise to pay attention to me tonight while we’re performing.” He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of your knuckles softly. “I’ll think about it” You reply nonchalantly and stand, feeling a breeze again, you know someone got a look and you can only hope it was Wooyoung.

It wasn’t Wooyoung that seen the flash of red when you stood to walk away, it was Hongjoong. You were nearly his undoing just then, he had to lean back a bit to breath. “That woman must be the devil in combat boots.” He laughed to himself, as the next girl in line sat down. He felt kind of empty after you left though. Your hands were so soft. He wondered how those hands would feel running down his back, or up into his hair. How that blush would look spread across your body, and if it went lower than your neck. He shook it off and told himself, “Get it together Hongjoong, be a professional, you’re the leader.”

Min Seo pulled you over to the side, “This is gonna be over soon, let’s get close to the front like last time. I wanna see San in all his glory.”

“Or you just wanna see San hip thrust his tightly clothed dick in your face, but maybe I’m wrong.” You retort. Wooyoung’s indifference to you, with all the effort you put into yourself, did hurt. You kept glancing over to see if maybe he’d try to steal a quick peek, but you only found one set of eyes on you, and those belonged to Hongjoong.

After the formalities were finished, the boys all grouped up and Min Seo dragged you back to the front again. “Great, just great. I promised Hongjoon I’d pay attention to him, but Wooyoung looks so good today. UGH!” You inwardly chastise yourself.

Then a new song comes on, one you haven’t heard before. The boys are surrounding Hongjoong, and then the music picks up, and He pops out from the middle, rapping his verse while looking you dead in the eyes. “Unlike the daytime, the night is dark. It gets colder when the sun goes down, but we already know. Why are you worried? We are stars for each other.” You try to keep your eyes on him, but Wooyoung just looks so handsome. You can’t help but look at him as his body moves fluidly across the stage. Hongjoong picks up on it, looking over at the younger boy. It hurts him, but he notices your face drops a bit when Wooyoung doesn’t acknowledge you. He’ll take care of that.

The next and final song is Pirate King, and when it comes on, it the same thing as last time. Hongjoong desperately trying to get your attention, but you were having none of it. When they split the group He walks up and tells Wooyoung something, he looks back at you and to his hyung with a wicked smirk on his face. “What are those two up to?” you ponder. Before you know it, your favorite part is nearing. Wooyoung steps out in front and says “Will you be my friend?” With a tilt of his head, and the cute tiny wave but this time he’s looking at you.

“Am I dying?! Is this Heaven?!” Your brain is burning to bits under Wooyoung’s intense stare, even if it doesn’t last but a few seconds. Your smile, and blush returns. Hongjoong notices and his heart feels like it’s flying. He just wants to see you smile even if it’s not at him.

[catrectorauthor]

The Immersion Tactic: Because we can’t stop telling people how to write

The writing process. You know, that thing that people want to tell you how to do properly. I’ve got some opinions. 

First and foremost, I'm no gatekeeper. I'm not here to tell you what is or isn't allowed, or what disqualifies you from the title of "serious author". I don't believe in cookie-cutter methods or elitism. I do believe in offering up information to others to do as they please with it, in order to help other writers find their way out of the dark woods that can be the writing process.

So. Let’s begin. As indicated by the title, my process has been immersion. Now wait, I'm not talking moving to France to bury yourself in croissants and macaroons. I'm talking diving in so deep that you're living your work during the majority of your free time. I'm talking about absorbing ideas and information while you're not actively working on your project, whether by watching a movie to study dialogue or by listening to a deeply moving love song to get in touch with your MC’s feelings. Writing is exhausting. Sometimes you need a break. But you can also choose to use your downtime in ways that benefit the work. 

If this seems an interesting theory, read on. It's worked for me, but it won't work for everyone. Maybe you'll steal a single item and leave the rest where it lies. I'm not here to judge; I'm here to build you up. Let me know if anything works for you. Here we go:

Sit in windows, on balconies, in gardens, at cafes, and on buses, and just stare into the abyss: You know when you lie down to sleep and then an amazing idea comes to you, and it's such inconvenient timing? It's not coincidence. You've finally stopped moving and thinking long enough to let ideas flow. Actively make time for this type of creativity by being idle. Leverage the still moments in your day to daydream about your story, even if you've completely zoned out at lunch and your whole table thinks you’re dead. 

Make a playlist: I have two playlists. I have one without English lyrics, so that I can tune out the world and focus on my task, and one with English lyrics. The second is a tool I use to immerse myself in my scenes and characters. I listen to it in the shower, on the bus, and while I'm doing the dishes. It forces me to remember the scene or character it references, and usually drives my motivation to write. Use this to keep your characters sitting on your shoulders at all times. 

Play video games: Yeah you heard me. While working on this project, I played God of War 4, Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice, Northgard, Jotun, and a handful of other Norse/Viking themed games. They’ll never provide you with pure fact, but I learned to ask questions about the information they provided, to look up things they presented me with, and to study the contents for details I could use, like mood or setting. I didn't even know about Valravn until I play Hellblade, so I have no regrets. But don't be stupid. Horror games are perfect for brainstorming horror stories, dystopian  games for distopian worlds, etc. But I'm not dumb eh. You have no excuses to play Call of Duty if you're writing an Italian romance.

Watch TV: This depends on your subject matter. For me, I only watched Vikings. The takeaway is the same as playing games. Watch the thing, ask questions, look for facts. Study the content while you’re unwinding with ice cream and a bag of chips. Learn to identify tropes, try to guess where plots will twist and how, and then use those lessons to avoid being predictable. TV and movies are also the kings of dialogue, so pay attention. I learned a lot from watching Buffy on repeat, and recommend it to anyone.

Research with books: If you're not reading as research, you’ve missed a critical part of the reading books things. However, research isn't limited to looking up which era the T-Rex lived in. Read to study style, nuance, and flow. I started rereading the Kingkiller Chronicles because I wanted to learn from Rothfuss' writing style. No don’t argue with me. That man is a God.  

Make a Pinterest Board (or 20): How do you research ancient clothing, jewelry, and building types when your budget won't let you fly to Iceland for a month? Fucking Pinterest. Members of pagan communities who craft and wear period clothing have saved my life. Photo references of people, places, and things are key to any piece of research. Pin the shit out of things and then reference them for the rest of your days.  Go to a museum: Writing a book that takes place in ancient Egypt? Go get face to face with some mummies. Learn what you can while getting some air for once, and use the opportunity to talk out some of your ideas with your museum buddy. This applies to anything. Scout out cafes for scenes you're writing, go to fantasy festivals to drink mead and make offerings to Gods, check out a botanical garden and take notes, whatever floats your literary boat. Your body will thank you for leaving the house, and you won’t forget the experience. 

Go to writing meetings and don't actually write: Commiserating about the process might have been the only thing that kept me from crawling under a rock. Can't fix that plot hole? That's okay, these people know how you feel. Stuck on a section? They have some suggestions for you. Looking for research books? Somehow they have the perfect title for you. Sometimes you need a stiff drink and a chat to get back to work. (But for christ sake, don't be that guy who talks through work time. If everyone is feeling like chatting, fine. That's a group decision. Don’t be the asshat that distracts everyone else.)

Scribble down side stories: Sometimes something doesn’t fit the plot, but fits the world. It doesn't mean you shouldn't write it. It may help flesh out your current story. Keep a side folder for these and have fun writing them when you can't stand your story anymore. Cook and eat the food from your world: Good in the kitchen? Try making that exquisite meal you wrote into chapter 12. Remind yourself what sushi tastes like before you have to describe what it tastes like. Really want to go the extra mile? Learn to fish, make a fire and cook it yourself. IMMERSION. Sketch: If you have a talent for art, draw your characters. Draw their outfits, their jewelry, their pets. I did this a bit, but it turns out I'm out of practice and was more apt to throw the pencil through the window. Either way, it will help you visualize outfits, hairstyles, and will let you watch a fucking movie while you do it. Actually write the damn book: Naturally this is the most important part. You can’t get around it. You have to put in the time. I've done all of the above, but I've also stuck in hundreds and hundreds of hours of writing for this one story. And it can be hard to do the writing, I know that. But that’s what you’re here for, so when you’re done with the creative outlet, channel it into the writing. 

Now I hear the skeptics. These are all just distractions, you could just be writing! Listen, no one is saying don’t write. And you may be the type who can just sit and write, but not everyone is, and certainly not 24/7. All brains work differently. The conversation also conveniently ignores minds that function in other ways. Perhaps someone on the autism spectrum has another process than someone with synesthesia, or someone who’s neurotypical.  

Follow the path that takes you to the story. That path has more twists for some people than others. Put in the work, and do it how you need to do it. If you're worried about procrastinating because of all these side quests, give yourself guidelines and boundaries. Set yourself achievable goals that will bring you back to the work.

I’ve tried to have fun with my creative process, because that suits who I am, but it doesn’t make me less serious about the work I’m doing. Ask the people who haven’t seen me in a year if I’m committed to the work. The story will be written. It will be published come Hel or high water. I’m just doing it my way. 

TLDR; Don't let other people tell you how to be fucking creative.

[mamichigo]

Thank you @bunmikuu​ for sending me this prompt!

Pairing: Shuichi Saihara/Kokichi Ouma

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Kaede had been really insistent that he should stop moping and actually try out online dating, so Shuichi decides to give it a try. He deeply regrets the decision when he gets stood up. Luckily, Kokichi decides to save him from his misery so he won't have to spend the evening alone.

Read on ao3 or under the read more!

Shuichi should’ve have known that going along with Kaede’s idea to try out online dating wouldn’t end up well for himself. To be fair, it hadn’t sounded too bad at the beginning—he even got a little optimistic for a moment there, seeing the light in the opportunity of not having to endure Kaede berating him for his pathetic, lonely Friday nights and, who knows, he might actually find someone nice at some point—, but now Shuichi was regretting every decision that brought him to this moment.

“This moment” being Shuichi, sitting alone in a table for two for over an hour, awkwardly sipping on a cup of water ordered in a desperate action in response to the judging stare of the waiter—though now Shuichi was pretty sure the man had changed from judgmental to pitying, which is understandable really, Shuichi is pitying himself too. The nice but not too expansive restaurant got increasingly depressing with each passing second, which got Shuichi staring at the tabletop and contemplating the eternal nap he was getting as soon as he got home, right after a nice session of utter shame.

Maybe he should’ve taken his pillow on a date instead. On his bed.

If Shuichi concentrated hard enough, he would be able to feel the eyes of everyone in the room; it was probably just his imagination, but Shuichi was willing to accept that every single person in the world was now questioning which entity thought it was a good idea to let him out of the womb. Shuichi himself was questioning that.

Waiting for almost an hour for someone who’s probably not going to show up does that to you.

A sigh escapes from him, his body completely slumped over the table now. Shuichi glances at his wristwatch (he actually dressed up for this, which just makes the whole situation sadder) and taps a finger on his own forearm, following the rhythm of the clock. Just one more minute and he’ll be heading home, as embarrassing as he knows it’ll be for him.

At least he can tell Kaede he tried, right? And who knows, the waiter’s newfound sympathy for him might compel the man to pray for Shuichi’s soul, so maybe Shuichi will be getting something out of this whole thing.

His thoughts are very rudely interrupted by someone clearing their throats, making Shuichi look up with a frown, expecting to see a staff member coming to put him out of his misery. Instead, a man in a white suit grins at him.

“I’m so sorry, did you wait long? My bad! Traffic was horrible on the way, I should’ve predicted that, silly me!” The man says in a cheerful voice and Shuichi stares, gaping.

He can’t quite find the words to reply to that, mostly because his date is supposed to be a bearded guy and with a pretty average haircut. But the man in front of him has dark purple hair tied up in a small ponytail and no facial hair to be seen—he’s really cute, but that’s beside the point right now.

“This is a kinda weird case of catfish,” Shuichi blurts out, all the embarrassment and nervousness in his body completely destroying his brain to mouth filter.

“What are you talking about? Did you wait for so long that your brain cells rotted?” Yes, exactly, but that is not the point either. “You’re being weird! Let’s just eat, I’m starving.”

The man proceeds to sit down on the chair across Shuichi, seemingly not at all concerned about this situation. Shuichi continues to stare at him, hoping it’ll convey enough confusion to get an answer. God, this is why he doesn’t get out of his house.

The man leans forward on his elbows, a smile on his lips and hand cupping one side of his mouth, as if he’s about to reveal a secret to Shuichi.

“Just go along, okay? You looked pathetic so I decided to have mercy on your soul! But in exchange I want to know the story here,” the man tells him in a low voice. He cocks his head a bit to the side. “A forgetful lover, maybe? No, no, wait! You mentioned catfishing, so maybe online dating?”

Shuichi honestly feels like a blind chicken that just got told it needs to run to survive. The feeling must make its way onto his expression, because the man leans even further, eyebrows raised.

“You don’t have anything to lose, right? Not like you are terribly busy here,” he insists, pointedly gesturing to his cup of water.

Still, no reply comes as Shuichi is still trying to get his head around the situation; he fidgets with his glass, moving it from side to side—and almost letting it stumble from his hands—glances at his wristwatch again, at the waiter who gives him a smile and a thumbs up as soon as they make visual contact. Well, he really doesn’t have anything to lose, does he?

“Can I at least get a name before I tell a stranger about my embarrassing love life?” Shuichi asks, finally, forcing a smile onto his face so he won’t look as nervous as he feels (he probably fails miserably).

“Oh, so you can speak! You were just staring at me for so long I was about to whip out some sign language to see if it worked.” Unlike Shuichi’s smile, which he was certain resembled more of grimace, the man in front of him beamed brightly, perking up as soon as he heard Shuichi’s word. “The name is Kokichi Ouma, Mr. Sad Sips of Water.”

“Oh god, please don’t call me that.” Shuichi eyed the glass in his hands ruefully. “Shuichi Saihara, just Shuichi is fine.”

“Wow, straight to first name basis, I see! I like your style, Shuichi,” Kokichi praised. Then, he smiled mischievously at Shuichi, eyes glinting. “So, go on. Spill.”

“Shouldn’t we actually order something first at least?” Shuichi questioned, unable to bear anymore judgment from anyone that night.

“Don’t be silly, of course we’ll order, I’m starving! But you’re not getting away from this, so you better start talking. I don’t mind if it’s a long story, I’m a patient man.” Kokichi puts a palm under his chin, leaning on it, his pinky just barely touching the corner of his mouth as he smiles and looks up from his eyelashes. Oh, he’s very attractive. Abort mission. “We’ve got the whole night, Shuichi.”

Shuichi doesn’t recall having agreed to spend the rest of the night with Kokichi, but he nods regardless of that, accepting the idea of being in the other’s presence way too easily.

And so, he does as asked, going as far as explaining how the whole thing started—the hours spent either working or watching bad TV shows until the sun is peeking out in the horizon and he’s regretting his choices yet again; how Kaede thought that was a sad way to live his life. Kokichi listens with interest, leaning forward on his elbow, eyes focused entirely on Shuichi.

Kokichi doesn’t just watch, nodding along and making small comments here and there, laughing for the most part. Some of those comments sound weirdly like compliments, but Shuichi is trying his best to ignore them and how it makes his stomach flip.

The unwavering attention is a little disconcerting, something Shuichi isn’t used to, but it doesn’t exactly bother him. Even if his heart speeds up every single time Kokichi smiles just so, purple eyes full of mirth, like he knows something more, a private joke that Shuichi isn’t aware of.

“So, let me see if I got this right. Your friend convinced you to try online dating because you were watching too many episodes of Friends and in the end it only made your life reach a new level of pathetic?” Kokichi asked once he was done with the story and they have their orders on the table.

“I- Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but yes, pretty much.” Shuichi rubbed the back of his neck; he didn’t feel as bad as he did before Kokichi showed up, but the embarrassment was still fresh.

“Oh my god, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard this week,” Kokichi said, laughing a little too enthusiastically about it. Shuichi considers throwing a piece of his chicken at the other to wipe the smug smirk off his face. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough to get my attention, now you’ve got me here to make your life better!”

The smile on Kokichi’s face widened and he was giving him a look that messed with all of Shuichi’s organs, like they were revolting and fighting to break out of his body. Shuichi takes a long swig of his drink—wine this time, instead of water—so his throat won’t be as dry; but even then, the liquid doesn’t go down easily and he’s sure Kokichi can hear the hard swallow. Going by how much his face is burning at the moment, Shuichi is willing to bet that he looks like a very nervous lobster.

His reaction seems to earn a giggle from Kokichi, and although he isn’t sure if he’s being laughed at or not, Shuichi can’t help but notice what a nice sound it is. Shuichi hopes he’ll be able to hear it again, but without embarrassing himself this time.

“I, uh, thank you. I guess,” Shuichi whispers the last part, staring down at his lap to hopefully mask how much Kokichi’s comment affected him. “Actually, now that I think about it… Shouldn’t you be going over to your actual table soon?”

They already have their food on the table, and Kokichi doesn’t look in much of a hurry, eating small bites and listening to Shuichi attentively. He didn’t get to see whoever was with Kokichi when he came in, since Shuichi was too deep into his own misery to look around, but it was very obvious Kokichi wouldn’t come unaccompanied. Especially with how much he was teasing Shuichi for being alone in the first place.

“Eh, not really! I wasn’t doing anything important.” Not what his clothes said, but Shuichi won’t point that out. “Besides, they’ll understand, especially after seeing you!”

“I’m… Not sure what you mean by that,” Shuichi admitted nervously. Did Kokichi have a habit of talking to people who looked miserable in restaurants or something?

“You don’t, really? Man, your self confidence is even lower than I expected!” Kokichi sighed dramatically, like the topic pained him greatly.

Which is a little unfair, since Shuichi is the one being mocked here.

“You’re making no sense to me, just so you know.” Shuichi fiddled with his fork, feeling the urge to sigh himself, but he refrained from it. “I just thought you’d have more relevant things to do besides talk to someone you just met a few minutes ago.”

“Low self confidence,” Kokichi repeated with a grin, looking way too amused about this. “Like I’ve said, I don’t have anything important to do. Geez, Shuichi, don’t you listen to what I say?”

Shuichi opens his mouth to interject, because that is very much not true. His uncle didn’t raise him to be an impolite fool, after all. Not to mention that Kokichi’s voice was pretty nice to listen to, so not paying attention to it isn’t exactly an option here.

“That’s not—”

“Besides,” Kokichi says forcefully before Shuichi can fully let his words out, “why would I want to be anywhere else but here with you tonight? You’re more interesting than most people I’ve met before, anyways.”

“How can you be so sure? We’ve only talked for maybe twenty minutes, at most.” Shuichi frowned a little. “I just don’t understand what you have to gain from this.”

“You’re being awfully insistent, Shuichi. What, are you trying to get rid of me so early? That’s not a very nice thing to do to your date, y’know,” his voice comes out dangerously wobbly at the end there, which manages to catch Shuichi very much off guard.

He is rendered speechless again, not only because of that, but… Date. Shuichi wouldn’t consider this a date, exactly; he was under the impression that it was like someone picking up a crying animal off the street out of sympathy and pity more than anything else, really.

But Kokichi said it himself, didn’t he? He’s been complimenting Shuichi’s looks and how interesting he is for the entire time they’ve been talking—well, at least when he isn’t busy teasing Shuichi for the whole online date fiasco.

Maybe it was okay to take one more risk today? His embarrassment can’t exactly get worse than this, so no way to go but up.

“Are you-,” he stops, not liking the wavering tone of his own voice. Shuichi takes a calming breath and tries again, “Are you flirting with me right now?”

Kokichi stares at him blankly for a full ten seconds, enough to make Shuichi’s stomach drop; maybe he got it wrong and Kokichi will be offended that he would ever think that, maybe he’ll just walk out without saying anything and then Shuichi will have to live forever with the shame. Shuichi is grateful that Kokichi can’t see how much his palms are sweating.

“Wow, you’re pretty slow on the uptake, huh?” Kokichi muses out loud, which doesn’t help Shuichi’s nerves. “Yes, Shuichi, I am. Been trying to for the past thirty minutes, but kind of you to notice.”

“Oh,” he says in an exhale, face flushed yet again. “Oh. I didn’t… Realize you were interested, like that.”

“I am interested in like that, did you think I said you’re cute, like, at least five times because I was trying to cheer you up?” Shuichi was going to reply, but Kokichi must’ve sensed he’d say something stupid like ‘yes’, because he added quickly, “Of course not, it’s because you’re hot.”

“Oh, uhm, I think the same. About you, I mean. You’re h—, you’re attractive.” Oh, god, why was he stuttering so badly? At this point Shuichi felt like he should just scream for help.

Kokichi looks at him with a softer smile than any of the ones he has shown Shuichi for the night; it has a genuine feel to it, and it makes the other ones pale in comparison. That, coupled with the pink hue painting his cheeks makes him a lovely sight to look at.

“Let’s start over, shall we? Well, Shuichi, would you like to go on a date with me?”

“What?”

“I know this really nice restaurant, pretty quiet and reserved, probably your kind of thing. It’s not stupidly expansive and the food is really good, I promise you’ll like it.” Kokichi pauses with a thoughtful hum, but soon enough he’s winking at Shuichi and giving a small shrug. “But if you don’t, at least you’ve got me there, so we can make things fun.”

Shuichi smiles back, glancing around the restaurant, then back to Kokichi. He nods.

“Sounds like a lovely place. And, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

[rebelmeg]

Let's Get Personal

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?  Recently, it's been "Secret Love Song" by Little Mix, "Poison" by Rita Ora, "What Ifs" by Kane Brown and Lauren Alaina, "U and Ur Hand" by P!nk, "Perfect Matchup" by Kenny and London Holland, and The Greatest Showman soundtrack 2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?  Robert Downey Jr. 3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.  “When was the last night or day you took time off?” 4: What do you think about most?  Writing.  A new idea, a current idea, something I need to jot down, something I need to fix, the one I want to read. 5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?  I'm fine, unless you want the time. 6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?  Underwear. 7: What’s your strangest talent?  Personalizing or adding to things that probably do not need to be personalized.  (The beige Calvin Klein purse was BORING so I defiled something expensive to make it more “me”.) 8: Finish the sentence.  Girls… are strong; Boys… are allowed to be soft. 9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?  Not that I know of. 10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?  I'm not an air guitar person, I have a THING about looking stupid and I’m certain that I can’t pull off looking cool doing air guitar. 11: Do you have any strange phobias?  Nah, just the regular ones. 12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?  Don't think so? 13: What’s your religion?  LDS 14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?  Walking to my car. 15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?  Behind, definitely. 16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?  I do hate this question.  I'll go with Queen, it's the first one that popped into my head. 17: What was the last lie you told?  I don't recall. 18: Do you believe in karma?  Eh, sorta 19: What does your URL mean?  I am and have always been a little bit of a rebel. 20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?  Weakness, personal motivation and time management.  Strength, creativity. 21: Who is your celebrity crush?  RDJ and Sebastian Stan 22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?  Yep. 23: How do you vent your anger?  Stewing about it, venting to other people. 24: Do you have a collection of anything?  Soooo many collections... I collect shot glasses as my travel souvenir. 25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?  Phone. 26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?  For the most part. 27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?  Permanent markers on cardboard boxes give me the heebie-jeebie shivers, the sound of a soda pop tab opening a can makes me swoon with happiness. 28: What’s your biggest “what if”?  I'm not sure.  Maybe what if I'd married someone else (not a desire at all, but something I've wondered about from time to time), my life would be entirely different from what it is now. 29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?  No and yes, but not in the traditional sense. 30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.  The chair next to me on the right, the child that is being clingy on the left. 31: Smell the air. What do you smell?  My house and my perfume. 32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?  A casino. 33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?  I've never been to the East Coast, so I can't really say. 34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?  Oh geez, I don't know. 35: To you, what is the meaning of life?  To do your best, be kind, and be happy. 36: Define Art.  Life made viewable. 37: Do you believe in luck?  Not really. 38: What’s the weather like right now?  Rainstorm is heading this way. 39: What time is it?  9:31 am 40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?  Yep and yep.  Not a big crash, though, minor one.  Fixed the alignment! 41: What was the last book you read?  Currently reading "Blood Fury" by JR Ward 42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?  Don't mind it as long as it's not too strong. 43: Do you have any nicknames?  A fair slew.  Meg, Megs, Rebel, Mom, Mama, and then standard endearments. 44: What was the last film you saw?  Geostorm, I think. 45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?  Not sure if this counts as an injury, but I ended up in the hospital with a miscarriage that required surgery.  If that doesn't count, I broke my foot falling out of a tree. 46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?  Yep!  I found one on the grass once during recess as a kid when it was raining, it was close to getting crushed by the other kids playing ball. I held it cupped in my hands so I could show my teacher, its wings dried while I held it, and it flew away while we all watched. 47: Do you have any obsessions right now?  Fandom ones, heck yeah. 48: What’s your sexual orientation?  Straight. 49: Ever had a rumor spread about you?  Probably. 50: Do you believe in magic?  Everyday magic, yes. 51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?  Yeah. 52: What is your astrological sign?  Libra 53: Do you save money or spend it?  I spend like it's burning a hole in my pocket. 54: What’s the last thing you purchased?  Lunch last week. 55: Love or lust?  Love 56: In a relationship?  Yes 57: How many relationships have you had?  Just one serious one. 58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?  Not quite. 59: Where were you yesterday?  Home. 60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?  My elbow is resting on a pair of my daughter's pink underwear. 61: Are you wearing socks right now?  Yep, I love socks. 62: What’s your favorite animal?  Bears, penguins, peacocks, owls, dogs. 63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?  Being kind and friendly. 64: Where is your best friend?  Teaching school. 65: Give me your top 5 favorite blogs on Tumblr.  Oh geez, I can't narrow it down to just five! 66: What is your heritage? Mostly British, good mix of other UK and European ancestors, I’m a 2nd generation American. 67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?  Watching Gilmore Girls and folding laundry. 68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?  Don't think he has one. 69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?  Of course. 70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?  I hope so. 71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?  Save the dog quickly. 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die?  Yes, everyone. b) What do you do with your remaining days? Be as happy as possible and spend as much time with the people I love as possible.  c) Would you be afraid?  Heck yes. 73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.  A huge part of love IS trust, so love. 74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?  Goody Goody by Julie Lavery, it's an upbeat, bouncy song.  (Which is funny, because the lyrics tell a sad story) 75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?  Nope, I use it as a passcode for stuff sometimes. 76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?  Humor, taking care of each other. 77: How can I win your heart?  Interact with me. 78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?  Yep. 79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?  To start writing again. 80: What size shoes do you wear?  7 81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?  *shrugs* Something nice. 82: What is your favorite word?  Popcorn.  I love the sound and the visual appearance of the way the letters are arranged. 83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.  Love, courage, strength. 84: What is a saying you say a lot?  "Best thing ever!" 85: What’s the last song you listened to?  "Hey Soul Sister" by Train 86: Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors?  Purple! 87: What is your current desktop picture?  Shamrocks 88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?  I don't know enough to be able to make that decision.  Also, too many corrupt world leaders to narrow it down, I think. 89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?  I can think of many. 90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?  "I am too tired for this nonsense, either sit down and chill or go downstairs and wait until morning." 91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?  Time manipulation without accelerated aging.  I just want to be able to nap whenever I want and have time to catch up on my Netflix list... 92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?  The first time my hubby and I held hands when we were dating.  It was perfect and absolutely adorable. 93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?  Ugh, I'm not sure, there are two that immediately spring to mind that were pretty awful. 94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?  I have no idea. 95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?  Europe.  Anywhere in Europe, but particularly the UK. 96: Do you have any relatives in jail?  I don't think so? 97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?  I'm sure I did when I was a kid, but not that I can remember. 98: Ever been on a plane?  Finally went on one for the first time a couple years ago! 99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?  Be kind.

[storiesofwildfire]

@incrediblewithin said: Bruce knew how it important it was to matter and despite all odds Loki was family. Someone to love and care for so when Hulk had loudly declared a birthday he'd set off finding a gift. The answer had been time consuming but worth it The book was carefully stitched together in leather, filled with sketches he had done, designed to last of all of them and threaded with small projectors, each with a specially recorded message from everyone he could find who cared. "Happy birthday, Loki."

♔—- Hulk knew about Loki’s birthday long before Loki had ever confessed to the date. Hel, she assumed, ratted her out to the sweet giant who helped rescue her from Helheim. Loki supposed she couldn’t be angry about it. Hel only wanted to give Hulk an excuse to spoil Loki ( though he hardly needed an excuse. He seemed to enjoy doing that every day without special reason ) because she knew it would stand a good chance of making her mother beam with joy. 

She wondered if Hulk would share the information with Bruce, though. It was true, Bruce and Hulk coexisted and for the most part, didn’t seem to hide too much from one another unless it was absolutely necessary or deeply personal. She doubted Hulk would be cruel enough to hide the truth of Loki’s birthday from the doctor, but she saw enough room for the joke to be there. Perhaps Bruce annoyed his other half to the point where Hulk decided to let him look like an arse who turned up without a gift? 

Or maybe, just maybe, Hulk would want to make himself look better?

Loki loved them both dearly for different but equally strong reasons, but there was absolutely no denying that she and Hulk bonded first and that Hulk was so incredibly soft for her... He would do anything for her and sometimes, he didn’t want to share. Fair enough. Sharing was nothing short of a chore and Loki understood the selfish tendencies. Even if Hulk kicked himself for it later because, really, between Bruce and Hulk, Bruce was the one ready to stab anyone who looked at him funny and Hulk was the genuinely kind and loving one. Loki would put a handsome wager on the idea that even if Hulk wanted to keep Bruce out of the loop, he likely would have felt guilty about it sooner or later. Plus, he’d run the risk of upsetting Loki if Loki actually cared about a fuss over their birthday.

She didn’t, really. You have a thousand birthdays and they don’t really seem all that important anymore. Loki didn’t understand the fuss, often elected to ignore it or pretend like the dozens of repressed issues that cropped up around her birthday didn’t exist. Even with her stance on the celebration portion, though, she couldn’t deny the heartwarming feeling that came along with someone sliding up to her, pressing a little package into her hands, and whispering birthday wishes. It wasn’t greed for presents or an obnoxious desire for attention, but that soft, good feeling vibe that filled one’s stomach when realizing how appreciated they were.

That very same feeling blossomed in her stomach as Bruce made his way over to her, sitting down so close that he could have been in her lap if he shimmied just a bit, gift in hand.

Setting the book she’d been studying aside, she straightened up a bit, making a visual display of turning to give Bruce her full attention. Soft eyes dropped to the offered package and painted lips turned upward despite her inherent desire to murmur ‘you didn’t have to’ or ‘you shouldn’t have’. No one wanted to be that annoying person who turned down a gift and yet, everyone was that person because they didn’t want to others to make such a fuss over them. 

“So, Hulk decided to tell you it was my birthday then, hmm?” she murmured. “Or did Hel have to tell you?” A soft chuckle rumbled in her throat, but it only served as a temporary distraction to the onset of dizzying sentiment that already wrapped itself around her shoulders. She accepted the gift, but she hadn’t even opened it yet and she knew... She knew it was something warm and heartfelt.

“Thank you, love,” she added, pressing a gentle kiss to Bruce’s cheek that left a purple lip-stick stain in her wake. At least he liked the color purple, eh? “This is so sweet of you.”

Figuring she couldn’t stall forever, she finally set about opening the gift. She desperately wanted to see it, though she did fear what sort of embarrassing emotional reaction she might have. Had Bruce ever seen her get overly emotional about anything that wasn’t her kids? 

A beautifully and well-crafted book that, alone, would have been a wonderful gift. Whether it had been a blank journal, a sketchbook, or just another book to read and add to her collection, it would have been right up her alley, but as she cracked the book open with care, the weight of what was on the pages hit her. It was no ordinary book and not something to read once and sit on a shelf never to look at again. Inside, Bruce’s sketches told stories of them and their lives together, but it didn’t stop there. Projectors so small they were hardly noticeable against the pages played recordings from Bruce, Hulk, Hel, Fenrir, Jor... anyone they knew and trusted who loved Loki enough to record a message at all.

Some were short, brief, and to the point, while others went on for a while. Jörmungandr’s was especially long but he always did take after his mother. In looks, in magic, in attitude, in hobbies, and in his inability to never stop talking.

She didn’t get through them all. After Bruce, Hulk, Jor, and Hel, she found the images on the pages blurring, as if she couldn’t focus on them. Only once she brought her hands up to rub at her eyes did she realize the tears forming were the likely culprit of her inability to see straight. A little sniffle left her as she dabbed the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater, though that did nothing to keep new ones from forming. She could only pray that they didn’t streak her cheeks. 

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. “I mean, aside from apologizing for the tears. It usually takes so much for me to cry--” But then again, this was so much, wasn’t it? So much love. So much intense care. So much thoughtfulness. It was all so much and it came from a person that, even on the best of days, wasn’t usually this sentimental. 

“I’m speechless and that’s not an easy thing to do to me.”

She closed the book, carefully setting it aside for the time being. She couldn’t wait to go through it all, to listen to every recording and commit every sketch to memory, but she felt that would be best done in solitude, where she could cry and hug the book to her chest without fear of looking so... however people felt when looking at a person in tears.

“Thank you,” she murmured again, though this time she reached out to slip both of her arms around Bruce just so she could pull him close. All right, and maybe so she could bury her face into his shoulder and hide those lingering tears threatening to fall.