#glad I could finish this before the website exploded

[sejantlamb]

It's not a one-shoulder dress, but she's making it one.

Portrait of Aria, the prize for my Twitter raffle which was won by @neracoda - wonderful fun to draw, even for a shark novice like myself.

[cwritesforfun]

(Criminal Minds) Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader: Lunch Date

Based on 1st Season Spencer Reid Spencer met Y/N at a bookstore. He asked her out and his date is tomorrow.  Got facts Spencer will day from these websites - Wikipedia, PubMed, Journal of Sleep Research, and college grad program website **I don't own these characters except for Y/N and the waiter, Alex** **Y/N = Your Name**

Master list

Spencer's POV

We just got back to Quantico from our last case in Florida.

I pack up my things to go home and Morgan walks over. He asks "Doing anything this weekend?" I answer "Reading Lord Of The Rings, a date, and catching up on my soap shows." Morgan nods and then his jaw drops. He asks "A date? Damn with who pretty boy?" I laugh and answer "A girl from a bookstore." He replies "Don't do anything I would do. Actually scratch that man, do what I would do. Enjoy yourself." Garcia stops by and asks "Enjoy himself? Hey, remember when Reid did his physics magic and it exploded at Hotchner's feet? He was enjoying himself then." We all laugh. Morgan says "He's going on a date." Garcia smiles and hugs me. She says "Omg I can't believe it. Tell me everything." I reply "There's really not much to tell. She was in the fantasy genre section of the bookstore on 5th Street named BooksAMillion. It was actually row 16. I was browsing nearby and I thought she looked pretty. I walked over and we talked about books for a little bit before I asked her out. The bookstore worker wasn't happy about us talking semi-loudly, but I could tell she likes to see a relationship blossom at her store. She let it pass. That's it." Garcia laughs and replies "Of course, you met her at a bookstore and remember exactly where you met. Please invite me to the wedding and the proposal you should have there." I reply "Garcia, I haven't even gone out with her yet." She laughs and replies “You always know when it’s the one.”

Y/N's POV - Next Day!

I'm meeting Dr. Spencer Reid for our date tonight. He's literally the same age as me and has multiple PHD’s. I feel so unaccomplished. It's fine though. After getting a double Master's, I was done with school.

We're going to lunch at some random place he picked then we planned on picking a book out for each other at the bookstore we met at. I think it'll be cute. I'm very excited.

I arrive at the lunch place on time and see Dr. Reid sitting on the bench outside. He sees me, waves, and stands. I walk up and exclaim "Hi Dr. Reid! How are you doing today?" He replies "Please call me Spencer. I've had a good day so far. I finished rereading the entire Lord of the Rings Trilogy and started rewatching episodes of my soaps."

We head inside the restaurant and we take a seat at an empty table.

I ask "Finish the trilogy again? Wait did you read all 3 today or just the last one?" He answers "All 3. I can read 20,000 words per minute." I reply "Damn I wish I was you. That would've made school so much easier." He replies "Not for me. I was bullied in school. I reply “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you made it out in one piece.” He smiles and says “Yeah, I made it out one piece physically. My reading speed did help with my 3 BAs and 3 PHDs that my bullies don’t have." I smile and reply "Wow what a flex. I was wondering why you were called a Doctor. Personally, I only got two Master's and then I was done with school." He replies "More than 16 million people have a Master's in the U.S. That is roughly 8% of the population. Did you know that the amount of students in college now who are pursuing their Master's is higher than in the past decade?" I answer "That's so interesting. Huh well, I think it personally helped me get the job I have, which is good."

A waiter walks up and exclaims "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Alex. I'll be your server this afternoon. What can I get for both of you to drink?" We both tell him our drink orders then he swiftly returns with drinks. We tell him our food order and he leaves.

I ask "Have you ever been here before?" He shakes his head and answers "My friend, Morgan, told me about it. He goes on a lot of dates. It seemed to have a good selection from the menu, so I'm glad he suggested it." I smile and nod. He asks "Any plans for the rest of the weekend?" I answer "Get some sleep tonight to be ready for the week and maybe bake some kind of bread to eat for breakfast this week." He replies "Oh... According to PubMed, people don't just adjust to a routinely disparate weekday and weekend sleep schedule. You think you do, but you don't. Not to mention, the Journal of Sleep Research says we get about 30 minutes less sleep than we would ideally need on each night of the working week... sorry I got a little carried away there." I smile and reply "No problem at all. It's super interesting. Did any of those articles ever say what to do instead? Because if you aren't catching up with your sleep, then what? He answers "Mainly it said to keep a normal sleep schedule and not to change anything." I reply "Is that cool? Yes. Will I try it? Maybe not. I love not having a healthy sleeping pattern." He laughs.

Food arrives and we eat.

After lunch, we walk down the street to BooksAMillion for the next part of our date.

I ask "So do we have a time limit or book limit or price limit or anything?" He asks "Do you have an idea of what you want to get already?" I nod. He says "Ok so do I. We can do 15 minutes and a 2-book limit." I reply "Deal!"

We separate and I start walking to fantasy. He seems like a Star Trek & adventure-loving guy, so time for my first book. I grab my first book and then head to the nonfiction section for my second one. I pick it up and head to the checkout line. I wait in it and checkout.

As I walk towards the exit, I see Spencer by the entrance holding a bag plus two cups. He hands me one and says "I got you a coffee. You seem like a two-sugar and half-n-half girl to me. I hope you don't mind and I hope I got your order right." I reply "Omg wow yes that is my order. Thanks, Spencer. Shall we?" I motion to the door and he nods.

We leave and head to the park across the street. We sit on a bench and I ask "Who first?" He answers "You seem excited. You start." I smile and say "Ok... here ya go. I shall explain why as soon as you see them." I hand him the bag and he sets his coffee down. He takes the bag and opens it. He pulls out the first one. I exclaim "Ok so my first one. Now based on our one conversation from last time, you gave me Trekkie vibes like you just seem like Star Trek would be your thing. Am I right?" He nods and I continue "Awesomeness wow! So my first one is Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik gives me very much Kathryn Janeway vibes. Ooh I hate that I've said vibes twice in the span of 5 minutes. Ew. Sorry ok so... Kathryn was the first Federation captain to successfully traverse the Delta Quadrant, encountering dozens of new planets and civilizations over the course of seven years. Then in the book, the plot revolves around three amazing women and a stubborn resistance to cultural norms. Have you read it before?" He shakes his head and replies "No I can't say I have. Nice call on Star Trek. So now book 2!" He pulls it out and I exclaim "Ahh ok so book two is The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I recommend it to so many people because I think there's something in there that will resonate with everybody. It makes you believe in yourself and not feel so uninspired by work. I don't even know if you feel that way, but it's helped me and I thought hey why not?" He replies "Well thank you. I'm sure I'll like it. I'm excited to read them." I smile.

I set my coffee down and he hands me my bag. He picks his coffee back up, sips it, then exclaims "So the first one is a classic, so I really hope you haven't read it yet. The Once And Future King by T.H. White is a retelling of King Arthur and his life. The book is divided into four parts, which are The Sword in the Stone detailing the youth of Arthur. Then, The Queen of Air and Darkness was published separately in a somewhat different form as The Witch in the Wood. Next is The Ill-Made Knight (1940), dealing mainly with the character of Lancelot. Lastly is The Candle in the Wind. I hope you like it as much as I do. My second book is quite the craze among people at the moment. It is The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. It was originally written in Portuguese, but I picked the English version for you. It follows a young Andalusian shepherd on his journey to the pyramids of Egypt, after having a recurring dream of finding a treasure there. I hope you like them." I smile and reply "I'm excited to read them. Thank you so much, Spencer." His phone rings and he says "Oh... one minute." He walks off with his phone.

Spencer shortly returns and says "This was a fun date. Thank you for coming. I hope we can do this again. Unfortunately, I have to head to work." I reply "Aww yeah I had fun too. This was a great date! Well, I guess I'll see ya Spencer!" He grabs his bag and coffee then he leans forward to kiss me on the cheek. He says "Bye Y/N." I wave bye and he walks off.

I head home right after to start reading my books.

Spencer's POV

On the jet, I pull out my books and set them on the table. Morgan asks "You got new books? What about that date? Did you miss it?" I answer "No. In fact, she picked these books out for me. One was because she guessed I was a Star Trek fan and one was to inspire me plus it's one of her favorite books. I gave her The Once And Future King plus The Alchemist." He laughs and replies "Nerds. Geez. So you had fun?" I answer "Technically fun is enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure. I have fun all the time. If you mean, do I think we'll go on another date? I kissed her on the cheek and she let me ramble. I'd say yes." He laughs.

........................................................................... THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! :)

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

previous | masterlist | next

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Time to rest your weary head: Part 13!

IT TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH, but it is here!!! As I explained before, I was facing the last weeks of my semester, delivering final papers and such, but now I'm freee!!!! I thank you all for your patience and eternal support, really <3 hope you like this one! :)))

Also tagging some of my beautiful readers <3 @madie2200 @katiebellf @starbornsinger

Last thing: I wanna leave here my praise to all fic writers and fanfiction and headcanons I had the pleasure of reading on this website; you all inspire me so much, and I’m glad to say I am a part of such a beautiful net of sharing and reading other’s stories :) you are awesome and you inspire me to keep on writing! Thank you :)

Check out the Chapter List and Part 12 if you haven't read it yet!

It was late, but Azriel didn’t mind. He felt like he could explode: like all of a sudden, all his life made much more sense.

He had a mate.

That mate was Gwyn.

And Gwyn had kissed him.

As he jumped off the balcony at the House of Wind, diving fast before soaring, he couldn’t contain his grin. His heart hadn’t stopped thundering in his chest ever since he got to her door. They kissed, and he sensed her affection and desire as sure as she had felt his. He held her in his arms, just like he had that night all those weeks ago. And he had missed so badly doing so, he realized the second he felt her hand on his cheek, caressing him in a way no one ever had, before she enlaced her arms behind his neck.

He felt like a teenager, his Ilyrian hormones pumping through his body, making him restless and euphoric. He wanted so bad to go back, to just stay with her, to make up any excuse to see her, to wake her up, to lay down with her. To spend every second he had right next to her, learning all the different ways he could make her glow.

For so long, he deemed himself worthless; tainted and scarred and damaged. But now he could see that perhaps that wasn’t true. He was hurt, but he could heal; everyone had a past, and it shouldn’t prevent them from living their present. And Gwyn… She was the reason he started believing that. That he had hope left, and that maybe…. Maybe he could care about himself just like others cared about him.

It took a second to realize he was crying. Alone, just him and his shadows, as he soared and spun across the night sky, he was crying. Sobbing and laughing uncontrollably at the same time. He breathed in and out, trying to calm his racing heart, but he still let the tears flow; he still kept smiling, the image of Gwyn’s face never fading from his mind.

Feeling the cold wind across his face, he landed on the pathway to the River House. It was all dark, but he could see a dim light from one of the windows. Rhys’s study.

Rhys. He lowered his mental shields enough so he could voice his brother’s name. Are you there?

Silence, before Rhys’s voice sounded. Yes. Are you alright?

I need to talk to you. May I come in?

He heard footsteps approaching the front door, and then Rhysand was staring at him, violet eyes dark in the dim light. “Come in, brother.”

He was greeted by the image of Nesta facing him, that huge portrait that Feyre had painted some time ago, after The Blood Rite. The house was silent, and all he could hear was his steps as he followed Rhysand to his study.

When he closed the door, Rhysand had just sat down at his armchair.

“Are Feyre and Nyx asleep?”

“Fortunately. The kid’s been having some trouble sleeping these last few months, therefore so have we.” He snorted, but smiled fondly at the thought of his family. “Sit down, Az.”

He obliged, and felt the way Rhys sized him up, trying to decipher what was going on with him. And although Azriel’s expression yielded nothing, he didn’t make an effort to wipe away his tears from before; so his brother was probably putting up the pieces together by now.

Azriel didn’t leave enough time for him to do so, as he again talked to him mentally.

Gwyn is my mate. But I reckon you already know that.

I do. I suppose it didn’t go well, then.

And Cauldron-damn him if he didn’t start laughing at that. And not a bitter one, but a true, genuine chuckle that made Rhys’s brows shot up and a bemused smile appeared on his face.

“It went more than well, actually.” Azriel corrected, shaking his head as he looked to the ground, still smiling. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” His brother shifted in his seat, resting his elbows in his knees and interlocking his fingers.

So Azriel explained what Rhys needed to do for them. He honestly didn’t care if his family knew or not about their mating bond, but was well aware Gwyn might need some time to adjust – and the required privacy to do so. And that was fine with him; as long as he was able to spend time with her, he’d be happy. In any way she wanted.

When he was finished, they stood in silence for a couple of seconds.

“So, I see you have your shot at happiness in your hands at last, brother.” Rhysand stated, with a knowing smile on his face.

“I do.”

“She was very good at refraining from telling you. Of course, I didn’t mean to pry when I found out. But do you know why I read her thoughts that night?”

Azriel shook his head, and watched as his brother declared with a low tone.

“She was just sitting there, in a midst of people whom she didn’t have familiarity with, and you were by your usual spot, talking to Mor. And she was just staring at you, eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t decipher, but I knew what that gesture meant. She couldn’t keep herself from looking at you, just as you couldn’t stop from glancing at her time and time again during the evening: like you were drawn to each other. I was going to ask her if she needed to talk about it, though I knew it was none of my business and she was unlikely to do so, but then I read her thoughts about you being mates.”

“That’s why I didn’t meddle in. I was witnessing something way bigger than me, and I think you know what I mean.” He finished, and completed “That’s why I - and Feyre - kept quiet about it.”

All Azriel could do was laugh quietly again at the mention of his High Lady. “Of course she’d know.”

“My dear brother, I learned by experience you shouldn’t keep things from your mate, even if it is to protect them. You're supposed to walk through it together.” Regret crossed Rhysand’s face at that confession.

Azriel knew that although his brother claimed to hide the details of Feyre’s pregnancy from her not to worry her, it wasn’t exactly fair all the same.

“But I’m certain you’ll learn that with time.” He completed, leaning over to pat Azriel on his knee. “So, don’t worry. I will do as you ask.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and stood up, meaning to leave. But, just as he was reaching the door, a thought occurred and he turned again to his High Lord.

“Rhys” He kept sitting on his chair, staring at him expectantly “It took me long enough to realize, but I’m glad you stopped me that Solstice night.”

Rhysand let out a soft chuckle at that, and bowed his head slightly, raising his glass. Knowing well what Azriel had meant with that.

****

His shadows were restless. He barely slept during the rest of the evening, his mind too awake to give in to slumber. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was slightly nervous to see Gwyn again – and to see if they’re new acknowledged bond would stand out or if Rhysand’s spell would work. He wouldn’t doubt of his High Lord and brother, but still. He wanted to see it for himself.

He stood in the training ring ever since sunrise. Gwyn had gone to her usual morning service and he hadn’t seen her, only felt her absence in the House, both an effect from the mating bond and his shadows, since they were so eager to be around her. So he sparred for hours, waiting for the moment training began and he would see her again.

The priestesses started to arrive right about the time Cassian showed up.

“Morning, brother”

Azriel nodded back, and turned to arrange the practice swords and shields into place, preparing the room.

“How was last night?”

He could sense Cassian’s presence behind him, and the innuendo in his sly tone. Gwyn’s image appeared in his mind once again, her burgundy dress complimenting her body’s every feature. He could feel her in his arms, their proximity and heat, the way he kissed her with all need and tenderness he ever felt towards her, the small sound she made when he pulled her close, pressing their bodies together… He was cut short from his thoughts when Cassian cleared his throat, suppressing a laugh.

“I can scent everything went well, then.”

Fuck.

He started thinking about other things, anything at all, to cover his desiring scent. It wasn’t professional nor respectful to appear that way in front of the Priestesses, even though Cassian and Nesta didn’t seem to mind covering their own arousal multiple times during all these months.

It was right at that moment Cassian’s mate and Gwyn arrived, their voices filling up the air. Azriel was still with his back to the door, and counted a total of five seconds before turning around and facing the deep teal ocean that were Gwyn’s eyes.

Like the seas in Reyna.

His shadows whispered one of Summer Court’s many beaches, the quietest, most isolated and beautiful one. Azriel felt a subtle need to take her there someday, to travel around Prythian with her, to watch her explore and discover the continent, her face lighting up with each new sight.

He casually approached the two females, who were still talking while they began their stretching on the mats.

“Good morning.” He let out, dipping his head a bit.

“Hello.” Gwyn greeted back, meeting his eyes. He watched as she breathed, noticing every detail of her exposed neck and freckled cheeks before meeting her eyes. It was a monumental effort to not scan her entire body and take in all of her curves. She seemed to notice that, and with a thrilling sensation he watched her face blush.

“Good morning to you too, Azriel” Nesta mocked, interrupting their charged silence. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

She directed this particular question to both of them. Gwyn finally tore her eyes away from Azriel, doing nothing to conceal her flushed cheeks.

“Yes.” She nodded a bit timidly, biting down her lip to keep her from smiling further, and met her friend’s inquisitive stare with a sparkle that almost sent Azriel to his knees.

Damn. That female would be the death of him.

“We did indeed.” Azriel found himself agreeing, his voice rough all of a sudden. His shadows reached towards Gwyn, desperately trying to turn her attention to him, to them. He wanted to be lost in those teal eyes again, to be alone with her.

“I’m glad to hear that, Gwyn.” Nesta smiled kindly to Gwyn, honesty and pride in her tone. “Although you’re aware you’ll have to give me more details later.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, continuing her warm-up exercises while Nesta stood up. As she went on to stretch her thigh, holding it behind her back, she leaned on Azriel, placing one hand on his shoulder to steady herself and taking advantage of the situation by voicing quietly:

“You hurt my sister and I’ll make you regret it, Spymaster.”

His shadows protectively wrapped around his shoulders, but he was well accustomed to Nesta and they had developed a great friendship after all those months. He could always understand and read through her pain and aggressiveness, even when others didn’t. He did believe her words, though. She, pretty much like him, would do anything to protect the ones she loved.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He nodded once, staring into her piercing eyes, and she patted his shoulder once, seeming satisfied with his answer, before pushing back and striding towards Cassian.

Gwyn kept stretching on the floor, but he could see she heard everything they said by her amused smile as she watched her friend walking away. Azriel reached his hand towards her, and she faced him again and grabbed it, helping herself up.

They were standing face to face now, hands still intertwined. He could hear Cassian and Nesta organizing the Priestesses in the background, the rustle of robes and training leathers as they moved across the training ring. But he couldn’t care less, not when he was holding his mate’s hand, face mere inches from hers.

“It seems you just got intimated by Nesta, huh?” She teased.

He shrugged: “It’s nothing to which I’m not used to by now.”

She chuckled, her eyes crinkling and her voice a sweet melody to his ears. He couldn’t stop but join her, with a quiet laugh. He could feel both Cassian and Nesta’s stare on them, observing their every move. It didn’t seem like the couple caught up on the scent of their mating bond, even though that faint chill mist mixed with water lilies, the combination of him and her, was currently inebriating his senses.

“Could we see each other later today?” Gwyn surprised him by asking, her big bright eyes waiting expectantly for him to answer.

She took a sudden breath, like she was trying to capture the new scent they shared as well, and Azriel found his lips blooming into a smile, both at the thought and at the request:

“I’d love to.”

She beamed “You can meet me at the library, if you are free.”

Gods, she was stunning. He couldn’t stop counting her freckles, observing the way her ponytail twirled behind her back, marveling at how warm her hand felt against his. What a strange and powerful feeling, he thought; to miss someone with that intensity, to desire more than anything to be close to them at all times.

And Azriel wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’ll be there.”

***

And so he went. After successfully ignoring most of Cassian and Nesta’s teasing remarks through training and lunch, none of them, however, related to the mating bond, Azriel found himself heading towards the library.

He was greeted by Clotho as soon as he entered the space, her magic pen already moving.

Good afternoon, Azriel. What can I do for you?

“I’m looking for Gwyn.” He cordially bowed his head to the Priestess.

Do you want me to call her?

“Thank you, but there is no need. If you could just tell me in which section she is I’ll meet her there, if that’s ok.”

“Ancient hymns and rituals”, third floor down to the right. You’ll find her.

He swore something about the way that magic pen swirled at the last sentence had a tinge of cheekiness, mischief even. So he gave Clotho a soft smile and went into the depths of the library, descending the stars and carefully avoiding staring directly at any Priestess that walked by, only greeting quietly the ones he knew from training.

As usual, his shadows kept swirling faster and faster with each step closer to Gwyn, excited at the prospect of being alone with her. Well, not alone entirely, but Azriel didn’t particularly care at the moment. He knew the curious eyes directed at them would be much more discreet than the ones at training – or anywhere else, for a matter of fact.

He could hear her before he saw her, humming softly as she labeled and stored a few books back on their spots. His heart thrummed against his chest, and he leaned on a shelf across from where she stood, still absorbed in her task, humming the same sweet melody over and over again.

Before he managed to say anything, one of his shadows darted to touch her hand, and her eyes lifted from the book she was holding and met his, her mouth quirked to the side.

“How long have you been there?” She put down the book and crossed her arms in front of her chest, lifting an eyebrow.

His shadows had encapsulated her shoulders and hair now, in a way that she seemed to be the Shadowsinger, and not him. He commanded them to get back to their places, but in vain. He honestly didn’t know why he even tried anymore.

“Not long.” He finally pushed away from his place by the shelf and stepped towards her, while she did the same.

He grabbed her hand, his thumb feeling her soft skin. His shadows encircled them both now, creating a dark cloud in an already dim-lit room. Gwyn laughed at them; curiously following their patterns with her eyes, hand still intertwined with his.

“They never did that before, with anyone.” Azriel observed the way his shadows expanded and darkened around and above them.

“Well, as you said before, they like me. If I were you, I’d be worried they might run away and come to me. I wouldn’t mind at all. Curious little things.”

When he faced her again she was staring at him with such intent he drew a ragged breath, mind focusing only on the female before him. The poor lighting of this particular hallway made her eyes darken, her pupils dilate, mouth slightly parted. Her copper hair now a shade of deep red, like molten fire. He just wanted to kiss each and every one of her freckles, from her face to her neck and below.

The thought made his body ache for her, his pants growing uncomfortably tight. He breathed deep, once, twice, in order to calm his mind and thoughts, but was cut short when her lips met his.

His arms instantly found their way to her hips, gripping her gently. She tugged her hands in his hair, pressing herself against him as the kiss deepened, her lips parting wider to give him access. He enlaced one arm around her, keeping her close and placing his other hand in the back of her neck. He could hear a song, an ancient melody spreading from them, an array of strings and choirs.

When they parted at last, her eyes were wide.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered as they breathed in each other’s scent. Her hands were still on his hair, and he couldn’t take his hands off her just yet, placing them steadily on her hips once again.

He nodded, smiling, and she laughed silently before continuing: “It was magical.”

He leaned to kiss her once again, stopping for a brief second and silently asking for her permission to continue. She closed her eyes, lifting her face, and a soft sigh escaped her lips when they met his for the second time. It was softer this time, tender. Azriel didn’t know if something could ever feel better than this, than having his mate in his arms; than having Gwyn in his arms.

When they parted, he rested his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling. The scent of their mating bond stronger this time, only enough for them to sense it.

“Do you think they could feel it today?” Gwyn seemed to read his mind. “Our scent.”

He met her ocean eyes and shook his head: “Well, Nesta has a sharp mind, and Cassian knows me my entire life. They definitely suspect something.” He huffed a laugh “But not relating to the bond. They probably think is a crush thing.”

She laughed at him, teasingly: “Is it, Shadowsinger? A crush thing?”

“It’s so much more and you know it, Berdara.” He answered in the same tone, but he knew by the way she swallowed once that she heard the husk in his voice, sensing the promise in his words.

Someone is near. Priestesses.

His shadows curled around his ear and he retreated a step, just enough to allow a casual distance between them. Gwyn turned her head to the sound of robes shuffling by, and looked at him again. “Care to join me?” She offered, nodding towards the cart with a loving smile.

“Gladly.”

They fell into a comfortable routine after Gwyn taught him how to shelve the books she cataloged and labeled; sometimes she hummed or sang something to herself, and it was usually at those times when he paused what he was doing, bewitched by her voice. Even the movements of the other Priestesses seemed to still when Gwyn sang, the whole world going quiet. Usually, though, she noticed the subtle halt in his movements after a few moments, and interrupted herself by laughing at his reaction.

If Azriel could exchange the work he did as a Spymaster to just label and store books with Gwyn the whole afternoon, he would. Even if he knew the importance of his work, he would trade everything in a heartbeat just to be with her. Or perhaps he really needed a break.

There was a time in which he thought his spying to be the only thing that he was meant to do. And there was so much in it that he disliked: the torture, the gore. But maybe… Maybe it was time for him to start making some changes. For his sake, and the ones he loved.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her quiet voice distracted him from his thoughts. He shook his head, shelving another book, and turned to her, finding her kind eyes staring straight back at him. “It’s nothing.”

“Az.” Gwyn reached for him, holding his hand in hers “You know you can tell me.”

“It’s just” He gazed at their joint hands and sighed “I did such bad things in the past, and have been doing it for so long… I'm tired of it.”

She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers against his skin, meeting his stare. “You did a lot of great things too, Azriel. Like helping your friends, your family, your people… And me.” She smiled, reassuringly. “You were the one who saved me that night all those nights ago, and then helped me stand up back on my feet every morning after it. You helped me become who I am today.”

Her tenderness broke him, touched a place inside him he was just starting to realize he had, and he took a deep breath before he took her hands in his, lifting them to meet his lips. The only possible reaction he could have to all that gentleness without allowing tears to fall; and he prayed to the Mother it could convey everything he felt.

The way Gwyn smiled and leaned in to softly kiss his cheek gave him his answer.

[puniper]

Hi I hope you are doing alright! I been a silent follower for a long time, but I suddenly remembered how you got me into the RPG maker game "OFF" pff. It was around the start of 2013 when I noticed you were making a lot of posts about OFF and I was getting all sad about going back to classes for college after winter break was coming to an end. I managed to play and finish the game back in my dorm room the day before my classes officially started. Later on I remembered how the fandom kind of grew and a lot of people started to draw OFF in Doodle or Die before they even made an official OFF room on that website (and how some people got upset about that too hehe). We've done some fun drawings back and forth a few times on DoD and some tumblr doodles I've done back then were seen by you too. Using those drawings to do silly stuff and interact with others made drawing feel much more fun for me during that time. IDK why I felt like sharing all that. I'm not too big into OFF stuff anymore after so much time has past, but I guess I just wanna say thanks! it was pretty fun and wholesome times back then~

Aw geez, anon, reading this actually made me smile because I also have fond memories of that specific timeframe haha, I remember it was around late 2012, early 2013 that this happened (almost 10 years ago what the fuck??), specifically the Doodle or Die sessions were some of the most fun I remember ever having in a fandom and would literally stay up until super late to play despite having college early the next day, there really was something magical during that small period of time when OFF was starting to get popular but it wasn't really quite popular yet (the game didn't explode in popularity until like mid 2013 i think) and the tags were p much just the same small circle of people you could keep track off

like you im not into it anymore but I do still remember those times fondly and i'm glad someone else shares that haha

[honeypirate]

Secrets

Future au prohero Tenya Iida x f!yn

I’m terrible with plans right now so I think this premise turned out dumb. But I liked writing it anyway.

Reader is a pro hero who’s quirk works with the pitch of her voice. She could change peoples emotions if they hear the right pitch of her voice and with the right quiet pitch it could be used as a sort of echolocation. She’s an expert in jujitsu and for her internships she studied under a CIA special agent hero in America so she’s amazing at being a spy.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“Okay, .... What if, ... hear me out here, What if we just walked through the front door? They’re expecting us to do something dramatic and intense and sneaky but what if we did the opposite. Walked through the door.”

You’re pointing to the front door on the blueprint of a hotel that lies on the table. Every hero around it was looking at you like you were nuts, except for one.. Iida. He had his hand on his chin as he spoke “Well they really wouldn’t expect it... I think with more of a plan it would work” You hadn’t expected him to be the one to see where you were coming from. He was so calculated and this idea you had was spur of the moment so you expected it to be shot down. With his planning and extrapolating to make your idea foolproof this was one of the best plans you’ve come up with... plus it was the only workable plan for this operation.

You met Tenya Iida when you joined his hero agency, you were carefree and bubbly and he was calculated and cunning. You worked very well together despite your personality differences. He quickly became one of your closest friends and you’d hang out outside of work too. He kept your head level and connected to your surroundings, you kept him grounded and connected to the outside world outside of the calculations in his head.

You were just friends.

You were just friends.

You were just friends.

This is what Tenya Iida repeated in his head over and over again every time he saw you in person. He accidentally caught himself falling in love with you and he would not let that jeopardize your friendship and work relationship. He would calculate everything so he never acted weird or too friendly or accidentally romantic.

The new plan was you get a room and pretend to be a couple, once inside the rest of the team on the outside would mess with the cameras so they’d just be on a loop of the last five minutes. You and Iida would sneak around and find the girl, take her back to your room where a hero you called in to help because he could fly, would be at the window. He’d take her to the police and you and Iida would stay the night as to not raise suspicion and then leave in the morning.

You were walking through the hotel entrance, a hotel that was renowned for harboring villains, pretending to be a naive couple on a weekend getaway. Your intel said that they had kidnapped a wealthy politicians daughter and was keeping her here on the second to top floor.

You had your arm linked through his and your other hand was holding his bicep. He was holding two bags over the other shoulder and the arm you were holding was like a rock of muscle you couldn’t help but notice how tense he was. You leaned your head on his shoulder and kissed his neck before whispering “you need to calm down. You’re gonna blow our cover with how tense you are”

Yes he was tense. But not because of the mission. Because the girl he was trying so hard to not fall for was holding on to his arm, wearing a gorgeous dress that showed off your curves, and whose hand was rubbing up his arm in such a loving way he felt like this was a dream of his. His heart could have exploded in his chest when he felt your lips brush his neck. He was anything but calculated right now.

“At least his face looks like he doesn’t care about anything” you thought to yourself.

When you reached the front desk you plastered on a sickly sweet loving smile on your face as you talked to the girl there, you noticed her mismatched eyes and registered her as one of the villains from the briefing. You didn’t let anything show on your face as you spoke “Good Evening! We have a reservation for Mr. and Mrs. Santana! We saw this place online and it was just beautiful so I convinced my fiancé here to come for the weekend!” You hold his arm again and he smiles sweetly down at you.

Your quirk worked as you spoke, whoever you focused on when using your quirk when hearing your voice their feelings could be influenced. Right now you were using it on this girl, so she felt like you were just two stupid tourists and nothing more. So she wouldn’t think about you guys ever again after you left her sight.

“I’m glad you guys liked the website! It’s new! I have you all checked in. Here’s your key. You’ll be on the top floor then it’s the last door to the right off the elevators. Have a nice stay!” She hands you two keys and you thank her, taking Iidas hand as you both walked away.

On the elevator he pulled you against his chest and buried his face into your neck “eighty percent of people in that room were high level villains. I counted ten security cameras and two in this elevator. When we get the room we have to assume it’s been bugged so we will check it out before any speaking.”

You pull back and nod as you look into his eyes, you’ve always loved his eyes they were so beautiful. You reach up and stroke his cheeks as you ingrained in your memory how he looks right now.

His hair is slicked back so you can see his shaved sides, he’s been growing out his facial hair so he has a nice sophisticated mustache, and he’s wearing contacts instead of glasses. He’s wearing a tailored tan three piece suit with a navy blue tie. What really got you was when you saw him getting ready and he has put suspenders on. Something about a man in suspenders just made you weak. He was so gorgeous you wished that this night wasn’t a rouse. That you were really his fiancé and this ring on your finger wasn’t fake. You wanted to get to your room and have him slowly undress you. But you knew that wasn’t what was ever going to happen. He was calm and calculating and would probably not even want a fiancé like you, the opposite of him.

He wants you to kiss him so bad. He can’t stop looking at your full red lips, at your gorgeous (color) eyes, the way they sparkle looking at him. The way you hold his face so gentle and soft it sends butterflies straight to his heart.

You lean up by his ear and kiss his neck a few times to sell your rouse before whispering into his ear “why are you so tense? This isn’t like you” You still have a few floors until you get to the top and you want to make sure he gets over this because you need him to be his normal self.

His hands snake around your waist and pull you up close to him. He sighs into your neck and you push the butterflies in your stomach as far down as you can. He knows he needs to relax and be his best. But right now he’s going to steal this one moment and really pretend you’re his. For these few seconds he allows himself to feel the love he has for you. After a few deep breaths he resigns himself and pulls himself together. He pulls back and softly presses his lips to yours for a second before whispering in your ear “I’m sorry y/n. Let’s do this.”

Your thoughts run wild and you froze when his lips left yours

Oh god oh god he kissed me and it was soft and wonderful and I want a hundred more at least. Shit I need to get it together. It’s just an act. It’s an act. Right?

You pretend everything is fine and you nod at him while taking his arm and walking out of the elevator to your room.

After finding no bugs in the room you quickly change out of the fancy nice clothes and into inconspicuous clothes. You can’t unzip your dress so you decide to ask him for help but you get distracted for a moment when you turn to ask him to and find him in just his pants. You take in the sight of his strong back muscles and his scars. “Hey” you say softly and touch his back, running your hand softly from his shoulder down to his ribs, running your fingertips across a scar. You get embarrassed and drop your hand when you realize how intimate of a touch it was. “Can you unzip me?” You turn around and look over your shoulder at him.

Your zipper is in the middle of your back, he nods and slowly unzips your dress all the way. He places his hands on your shoulders and then softly trails them down your arms sending tingles down your spine and giving you goosebumps. You turn around to face him.

“Thank you” you say quietly looking into his eyes, his hands grab your hips and slowly pulls you into him. “Y/n” he says your name quietly and you stand on your tippy toes trying to get closer to him “Iida” you whisper back. His eyes look to your lips and your eyes flutter closed as you anticipate him to kiss you again.

He places his forehead against yours. “We need to hurry and rescue the girl” you sigh. You know he’s right. This is not the time. But god how you wish it was. You pull back and nod before walking away from him and taking your bag into the bathroom to finish changing.

You changed into a pair of black leggings and a black hoodie, hiding a gun and holster on your back and under your hoodie. You put on a pair of black running shoes as well.

When you exit the bathroom you tie your hair up in a pony and pull your hood up, you hear Iida speak into your ear piece that’s connected to the whole team “are we ready? Check in” followed by the voices of the rest of the team “ready at the station” “cameras are ready” “I’m on the balcony, ready when you need me” you make eye contact with Iida and he waits for you to say the phrase you always do before a mission. It’s a tradition and lucky charm now you have to say it. You smile “let’s go team” and with that Iida let’s out a breath and you exit the room.

On the floor below yours you split up, you take off quietly and stealthily running down the hallway, using soft clicks with your tongue that showed you the position of people in the rooms around you and people inside. You make it down the first hallway and stop when you realize that there are people around the next corner.

You use your quirk to get their positions as you creep forward so you can hear their conversations. “Down the hallway to the right. Two guys. They have the girl out right now this is our chance” you whisper into your ear piece and Iida responds “I’m on the other side of the hallway. You take the one on the right. In 3 2 1” and you’re around the corner and on the man on the right before he can even see you knocking him out and lowering him gently to the ground “what the fuck?!” the other guy says and as he draws his gun Iida hits him so hard on the back of the head he’s knocked out. You take the girl and run to the stairway door with Iida behind you.

You can hear the girl crying beside you and you squeeze her hand once as you keep pulling her up to the next floor. At the door you stop them. “There are two people in the hall wait a moment” you make your clicks and watch in your minds eye two drunk guys walking back to their room. Once their doorway clicks closed you’re off running again to your door. Once inside you throw open the window “wings boy. It’s your turn.” You couldnt remember his name and before he takes her you turn to the girl “you’re safe. It’s okay. Trust him. He’s going to take you to your parents, I promise. But if it would make you feel safer you can have this” you hand her a pocket knife and she takes it slowly and nods.

Once they’re gone and you’re told that the cameras are back to normal you sit by the door and watch and wait to see if anyone comes for you guys while Iida watches from the balcony.

“Hey” you say form the doorway “if they suspect us maybe we should change into something else and lay in bed or something so if they bust in we can still sell it. Because I’m not selling cute couple on a sexy weekend in this unsexy outfit” you laugh and he smiles at you and blushes, he thought that you holding a gun was one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen. He goes back into the room shutting and locking the balcony door after you.

You take off all of your clothes down to your undies, placing your gun on the countertop to put it under a pillow on the bed when you go out. You look at yourself in the mirror just standing in a lace white thong and nothing else. Looking at your scars and bruises from past jobs. You were gorgeous and you knew it but sometimes it felt like you weren’t good enough. You pull on a faded oversized retro teeshirt as Iida knocks on the door. “Y/n?” You open the door and smile softly up at him. He’s wearing just a pair of sweats now and you can’t help but blush looking at his strong body.

“I don’t think they suspect us at all.” He said and cleared his throat when he looked at your bare legs. “That’s good. I’m glad this turned out easy but we still need to be on guard.” He nods and you turn away from him to grab a pair of cotton shorts, purposely showing him your butt, and he groans internally when he sees your cute butt cheeks underneath your oversized shirt.

You slip on your shorts and shove everything else in your luggage before leaving the bathroom with your bag over your shoulder and gun in hand. He sits on the bed and slips on a shirt and it makes you sad, you stash a gun under the pillow.

The sexual tension in this room is so thick you can hardly breathe. You can’t take it. You have to touch him. You walk up to him and stand between his legs, running your fingers through his hair as he looks into your eyes. His fingertips softly brush up your thighs before landing on your hips. “Iida. We saved that girl. Now we need to just make it to the morning” he nods but doesn’t say anything, just looks into your eyes.

Your hands softly move down to his cheeks and neck. “I want to kiss you” you admit with a blush and his eyes widen before softening as he smiles up at you. You lean your face down close to his, your lips brush over his softly for just a second but as you pull back he stands and softly grabs your face kissing you deeper. You melt into him and moan when his tongue goes into your mouth.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he reaches down grabbing your butt and lifting you up with ease before turning and falling to the bed on top of you. You giggle and look up at him as he pulls away to get a breath. You slip your hands under his shirt and moan softly as you feel his muscles under your fingertips. He pulls off his shirt and you wrap your arms around him pulling yourself up to him to kiss his chest and shoulders. Kissing every scar you can reach. When you get up to his neck you bite and suck just above his collarbone and he moans. You love the sound. He’s kissing up your neck and you say “Tenya Tell me what you really think of me.”

He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks into your eyes “I love you” he gets right to the point and you get butterflies and you smile “I love you too” you whisper and he blushes “you do?” He asks and you nod “so much” you say with a smile and run your fingers through his hair again softly as he peppers kisses all over your face.

“I love you y/n” he whispers again

“Tenya I love you” you say back and he kisses you again with a fervor.

You end up laying on his chest as he plays with your hair, talking about when you first came to work with him. “That second day when I saw you in your hero suit, I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you looked. Then we talked and you took me by surprise. You’re so kind and bubbly and it feels like you really see me. I didn’t realize that I was in love with you until recently, I was talking to Yaoyorozu and she asked me when we started dating because I talked about you like I was in love with you. And then it all clicked. I wanted to push it down and forget about it I didn’t want to ruin anything with you. I was panicking when we first got here because I couldn’t handle how good you looked in that dress and then you kissed my neck. My heart was racing. I couldn’t help but kiss you in the elevator. I had to have that moment to ground myself I guess. Because it really helped me get my head tigether.” You’re smiling into him as you kiss up and down his bare chest and shoulders.

“I realized I loved you a couple weeks ago” you say and lay your head back down on his chest “our last mission when I got hurt. You came to me immediately and held my face, your eyes were beautiful and you looked so worried about me. I realized that you cared about me so much and my heart was full. After that I noticed so much more about you, like how you always show kindness to everyone you meet and you’re so genuine. The more my eyes opened the more I realized you were the man I wanted to be with. “

*tap tap tap* comes from the balcony door and you grab the gun from under the pillow and point it over before you notice it’s wings boy with a friend. Tenya gets up and throws open the door as you turn the safety on your gun back on and set it down.

“We need you both right now. They don’t know you were here but they are attacking the family now and we need you both to come help capture the villains” you nod and grab your stuff changing back into fight clothes as quick as you could, shoving your gun it’s holster under your sweatshirt, before heading to the balcony. wings boy and friend carried you and Tenya out from the window. The whole time you closed your eyes and didn’t look until your feet touched the ground. Then you take off. Leaving wings boy to handle your bag.

As you’re running towards the fight Iida picks you up and takes off running as fast as possible to get you there too. Before he sets you down, in that fraction of a second, he whispers into your ear “I love you”

You smile and get to work.

[joheun-saram]

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 02

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, slow burn, fluff eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut 

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger's house. 

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Everytime he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash. 

As he brushed his teeth today, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year. 

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he doesn’t need the tutoring anymore, he does enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would be an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but everytime he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he can’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head. 

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous.

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez. Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while staring at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh... this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter. 

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

  ____________________________

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it.” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first...” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon... slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session. 

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that. 

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Daminette December Day 4: Gaming

——————————————————————————

Everyone on twitch knew, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a beast at every game she played. From multiplayer ones like Ultimate Mecha Strike III to indie ones such as “Hollow Knight” she was a goddess. Her KD ratio on “Call of Duty Modern Warfare” was 100:0.

She played under an alias, Ladybug. Not once did she show her face. All of her viewers told her to go pro, make some real money playing the games that she loved so much. But everytime she saw someone suggest that, she’d wave it off saying, “Gaming is a hobby for me. If you really want to support me, buy merch or commission me for some clothes. For those who don’t know, I run a website called ‘Miss Fortune’ and it would greatly support me and my dreams if you would check it out!”

It was true Marinette loved gaming, but her passion would always be fashion. Once her website was announced, Marinette received so many commissions from her followers, that she no longer had the time to do the free labor her class would always ask if her. She was busy and was making her dream come true they should be happy for her... right?

Wrong.

“Mariiii,” Alya elongated her nickname, “Could you babysit my sisters and Chris, please?”

Marinette sighed, “I’m sorry Alya, I just have too much on my plate right now. I’m working on a comission that will pay me a lot! It needs to be done by Monday, or I won’t be able to get it to the buyer in time for their party. Maybe next time?”

Alya would have said that it was fine, if Lila didn’t open her mouth right when Marinette finished, “Wow! Marinette would place money over her supposed ‘Best Friend?’ As Alya’s second best friend, I’ll take over the duty,” Lila then whispered lowly to Marinette, “because that’s what friends do.”

“Yeah, Girl! Why are you being so selfish?” Alya asked a little annoyed.

“W-what?” Marinette physically took a step back, “S-selfish? But I’ve done nothing but do whatever it is you ask of me?!? The one time I decline a demand from you I’M the selfish one? I have a job, a client, and my pride as a designer on the line. This is much deeper then money, but you,” she pointed an accusing finger at Lila, “wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

Neither Lila or Alya expected, soft, timid, Marinette to explode the way she did. As the class excluded Marinette from things, she dove farther into her twitch personality. Ladybug, one of the best gamers in the word (according to some), was confident, collected, and focused. Marinette embraced that side of her and slowly grew into her own skin. Lila broke into the fakest crocodile tears she could conjure, “W-why are you so m-mean? I-I just wanted Alya to k-know she could l-lean on me!”

“Bullshit,” Marinette cursed and rolled her eyes, “You know exactly what you were trying to do. And Lila next time, take some acting lessons. Maybe then I’ll even pretend to be sorry. You cry wolf so often that I’ve become desensitized by yours and everyone else’s treatment of me. So if you want to play ball, I just want you to know: I play to win. And I never lose, especially to noobs who don’t even know the mechanics yet.”

After saying that, Marinette left the classroom stunned to slience. Lila tried to call after her, but she was already long gone. Classes had ended right before the confrontation, so Marinette couldn’t be bothered to deal with peasants that lost at games of manipulation. She had much better and productive things she could be doing with her life.

As Marinette made her way home, she had wanted to stream a bit before working on the commission. ‘What to do,’ Marinette had thought to herself, ‘A vlog? Maybe?’

20 minutes of an internal debate later, she had decided to do a vlog (in silhouette of course). The light on the camera signaled it was recording, “What is up my Macaroons? How is everybody doing today?” She stops to read the chat, “Good? I’m glad! Um.... how am I doing? I didn’t have a good day, but now that I’m talking to all of you I’m feeling much better!”

Marinette winked at the camera. She wanted to keep her mind off of the event of earlier, “I got into a fight with one of my ‘best friends’” her fingers curled into quotes, “Turns out she wasn’t worth my time.”

She continued to stream for another 45 minutes before signing off. The second it ended, Marinette began to work on her commission. The piece was for a Tim Drake. When she had first received the request, Marinette assumed the person was asking under a pseudonym. There ways no way THE Tim Drake would want her work... right?

Wrong... again.

Two for two times Marinette wa wrong lately. Unbeknownst to her the Wayne boys had grown a fondness for the goddess behind the screen on Twitch. Tim being the fan boy of the four, commissioned her for the next gala. He wouldn’t shut up about it to the rest, “I’m getting a ‘Miss Fortune’ original!” He would announce loudly to the manor, “She actually took my request!”

“And here I though Ladybug would ignore you, I thought she would’ve thought it to be a prank. Timmy boy lucked out,” Jason released a long breath.

“Can things one and two, shut up while I place an order?” Dick huffed in annoyance. He would try to commission Ladybug for business causal.

None of the boys were into fashion, (besides Damian but they don’t know that) but if it was to support their favorite streamer they would sell their kidney. No one knew the face of Ladybug, however, everyone knew of their skill.

Damian felt an eyebrow twitch at his brothers antics. Damian had been commissioning Ladybug since before she had mentioned it in that video. Admittedly he had no idea who the designer was, Damian always preferred practicality over looks and Miss Fortune had just what he was looking for. Eventually he’d learn just who Ladybug was, after months of commissioning her work she had enough trust in him to allow him the privilege of her name. Marinette. That was what he got. No last name, just Marinette.

Ladybug trusted him enough with a first name, but handing your last name to a stranger on the internet isn’t the best idea. But Damian was on a war path to sniff out just who exactly is Ladybug.

Her twitch channel was pretty popular, she was confident, and always stayed talking to her followers whenever they were sad or upset. Her last stream left him unsettled. Damian didn’t think such an angel could ever be upset at anyone, but guess there was a first time for everything.

A fire was lit under Damian and it would rage until he remedied whatever would distress his angel. This would become a game of “Clue” and Damian never lost anything. To the challenge of finding Marinette he’d say, “Game on!”

——————————————————————————

A/N: I plan on continuing this into tomorrow’s prompt of fire. I hope that’s okay with you guys. Thank you for all the sweet comments, likes and reblogs. All of those things make me motivated to continue, thank you all so much!

@daminette-december2019 @persephonebutkore

[ficbitxc]

Trapped With You

Chapter 3  I  Chapter 2   I  Chapter 4   I  masterlist 

this is a criminal minds series I’m making about falling love with Spencer Reid

summary: Their date :)

word count: 1550

warnings: none :)

authors note: I feel like this one kind of sucks sorry 

     The next  morning I woke up a nervous mess. Tomorrow was my coffee date with Spencer. I was furious at him! How could he make me so nervous by just asking me for coffee! I turned on my phone and was surprised to see a text from him. I thought he didn’t like technology?      “Hey, it's Spencer. I'm sorry I'm gonna have to cancel our lunch date tomorrow.  Something came up. How about dinner instead?” I read it slowly. A smile spread across my face. I threw my phone on my bed and flailed my hands around. I just couldn’t keep holding all my emotions inside. They had to come out somehow.      I picked my phone back up. Even though I had a weird combination of emotions (including nervousness, excitement, happiness, and maybe a little embarrassment over the flailing hands thing), I still had to act cool over the phone. I didn’t want to seem too crazy yet.      “You better make it up to me in more ways than one ;) Just give me a time and a place, I’ll show” I typed back. I read it a few times before sending it. I hoped it wasn’t too much, but being bold felt like the right option for Spencer. I set my phone down and went to make coffee. I couldn’t just keep staring at it waiting for a response. Keeping myself busy helped with my nerves. I couldn’t believe I sent that. My stomach pinged with an ounce of regret.      As I grabbed my mug, now filled with black coffee, I went back to my room and picked up my phone. A text notification chimed as soon as I looked on the screen. Like I suspected, it was Spencer.      “Be careful what you wish for Mae, in some instances, it might just come true. Lolita's at 8 tonight?” I read it one more time to make sure I had read it right. I smiled, glad I wasn’t the only one who thought being bold was the right way to go.      “Lolita's it is” I typed back. Excitement filled me. Our date just became a day sooner. Only 12 hours away! I wasn’t sure how i was going to focus on my work at all today with this information.      I grabbed my laptop and started working, only stopping for snacks and bathroom breaks. Once 6 rolled around I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to start getting ready, or I was sure something was going to explode! I shaved and washed every part of my body. I wasn’t expecting to get to 3rd, but hell if I wasn’t going to be ready for it. I got out of the shower and defused my dark brown hair, making sure my curls framed my face in the most flattering way possible.      I started with my makeup soon after. Spencer really didn’t seem like the type to like big makeup looks, so I kept it casual. Mascara, concealer, blush, highlighter, and bronzer were the only products I used. I looked in the mirror. I looked pretty, not beautiful or striking, but pretty.      Finally I had to pick out an outfit. Lolita's was a casual place. I didn’t want to go over the top dressing up. I searched through my closet until finally I found what I was looking for. A brown corduroy skirt, with an over sized yellow turtleneck sweater, tucked in. The outfit looked a little too plain, so I put on a belt that made me look like I had an hourglass figure.      I looked at the time and it was already 7:30. I must’ve spent more time in the shower than I thought I did. Lolita's was about 25 minutes away from my house and I wanted to be a little early, so I wouldn’t give the impression of always being late, even if it was true. I rushed to put on my socks and shoes, deciding my old skool vans would do, and ran to my car.      By the time I got to the restaurant it was already 8:02. I decided to act like I was trying to be ‘fashionably late’ rather than actually late. I opened the door to the restaurant and saw Spencer sitting on a bench inside. He was wearing brown pants with white button up shirt and a red tie, similar to what he was wearing when I saw him last. It must be his work clothes.     He looked like he had fallen asleep , not even noticing when I took the seat next to him. I guess it didn’t matter what kind of late I was. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he jerked away like I scared him, his hand finding the side of his leg, but there wasn’t anything there.      “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you!” I was slightly embarrassed. Scaring him on our first date. Good one Mae.      “Oh no no,” Spencer rubbed his eyes, “I must've fallen asleep or something, I haven’t slept that well the past few days.”      “Oh. We can always reschedule if you want? You do seem a little tired.”      “Noo, I’m fine. Missing a date with you would be worse than getting no sleep. Let’s get a table?” He replied. I tried to hide the pink starting to form on my cheeks and nodded. I walked with him up to the front of Lolita's where we followed a waiter to a booth next to a big window. I could see my car from where we were sitting.      “Have you ever been here before?” He asked as I flipped through the menu.      “Yes I have. I usually order this sandwich,” I said pointing to it’s spot on the menu, “I'm guessing you have too, since you picked the place.”      “Yes. I come here all the time during my lunch break at work with my coworkers. My office is only five minutes away.” He explained.      “Oh, really? Where do you work at?” I questioned.       “I’m actually an FBI agent. A profiler.” My eyes widened. Now I really believed this guy was too good to be true. He was a certified genius and in the FBI! My mouth opened to say something, but I was interrupted by the waiter. I ordered water as a drink and Spencer copied my order. We both already knew what we wanted, so we ordered our food too. Once the waiter disappeared into the kitchen, my attention fell back onto Spencer.      “Ever since I was little I always wanted to work for the FBI. It always seemed like such a cool job.” I admitted. Spencer’s eyes looked at his lap while he started talking.      “That's what I used to think. It’s a lot more darkness than I anticipated. I’ve almost quit several times, but I’m not sure what I would do with myself if I quit.”      “Is it that bad? What exactly do you do?” I questioned.      “Can we talk about it later? Maybe at our next date?” A smile spread across my face. There was going to be a next date, “what do you do, then? You seem to know so much about me but I know nothing about you.”      “I actually work for myself, in my own apartment. I design websites and stuff. Your everyday programming needs are left for me,” I chuckled, “ That was actually my plan to get into the FBI. I’ve heard so many times that if you can hack into them, then they’d offer you a job. I always chickened out with that plan though.”      “That's funny. A member of my team, Penelope Garcia, got into the FBI that exact way. I bet you guys would make good friends, she always talks about how annoying it is that none of us ever understand her computer talk. I may be a genius but I never found it helpful to learn about computer languages.”      “Maybe you can introduce us one day. I am in need for some new friend,” I joked. With that, our food came out and we started eating. The rest of the night was filled with jokes and getting to know each other questions. It was probably the best date I’ve ever been on, like I’ve known Spencer my whole life. We stayed long after we finished our food, both dreading the night ending.      “Are you ready to get out of here?” I asked, “If you want you can come to my apartment. I just don’t want this night to be over.”      “I’d love to. Text me your address and we can both drive our cars, so one of our vehicles doesn’t get stuck here overnight.”      “You got it.” I said as I did what he asked. Even though he mentioned taking both cars, he still followed me to mine. I was about to ask why, until he opened the drivers door for me. For the hundredth time tonight, a smile crept onto my face. I thanked him as I sat down.      “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” He smiled as he gently shut the door. Before starting my car, I watched him walk to his. Spencer really was the man of my dreams. This time, I didn't have to hope. I knew the feeling was mutual. 

[isthisthingeven0n]

surprise of the night : d.d

brief summary: during a girls night in, they persuade you to finally make a move on your ongoing crush toward david 

word count: 648 requested: by a sweet anon and this idea is so freaking cute!! warnings: literally none. pure fluff

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

It was only supposed to be a few drinks with Corinna, Natalie and Carly. That was it. Just a few drinks whilst everyone was away travelling and a chance for you guys to quickly catch up. 

You fully intended on getting an Uber home and then finish working on your vlog. But it could never have been that easy, and you should’ve realised that when you opened David’s front door to see Carly hanging upside down on the sofa. 

Safe to say, you caught up quickly resulting in you sitting on the floor between Carly and Corinna having a needed girl talk. “Okay, Y/n let’s be real here,” Corinna speaks up as she slurs her words. 

Her arm moves and rests around your shoulders as she pulls you closer, causing you to chuckle. “Yes, C?” You question, raising an eyebrow as you look over to Natalie who continues to drink, zoning out. 

“You gotta confront David about this crush,” She states boldly, watching as your eyes widen and nearly pop out of your head in response. “and this is exactly why! Come on, it’s only David.” She reminds you and you look to Carly who nods along.

“He’s cute and all you gotta do is tell him.” Carly nudges you, listening as you laugh freely along, feeling your usual anxieties wash away. 

You start to move and rise to your feet, uneasily standing before your friends. “You know what? I’m gonna.” You state proudly, hands resting on your hips as you wobble from side to side. 

Natalie applauds you as you walk toward his bedroom. “Go on, it’s about time!” She slurs and you laugh to yourself, partially glad you decided to stay longer than initially planned.

As you stand outside of David’s door, you raise your fist and knock quietly. “Hey,” He calls out and you push it open to see him on his bed with his headphones around his neck, a surprised expression on his face. “why’d you knock?” He asks with a smile and you shrug your shoulders.

“To be polite?” You question, unsure yourself as you sway toward him and sit on the edge of his bed. “How’s the editing going?” Instantly you regret making small talk. 

Before David has a chance to answer, he watches as you lift your hand up and give him a serious expression, one he can’t help but laugh at.

“I gotta ask you something Dave and if I don’t ask you now I might explode so just shut up and listen, okay?” You ramble and David moves his laptop to one side, giving you his full attention.

Keeping your eyes closed, you remain oblivious to the growing smile on his face. How he wishes he could reach out and take your hands in his. “Rooms all yours.” He mutters to you, seeing a smile rise across your face as you open your eyes.

“I really like you and I know that you probably don’t like me back and that’s okay. I mean I expect it to be that way but I’m driving everyone crazy by not telling you so here’s me telling you.” You quickly explain the situation, rising from his bed and feeling the alcohol washing away, being consumed by your nerves. 

David remains still, partially in a state of shock. “I, I like you too, Y/n.” He says with a smile.

He watches as you nod. “That’s okay, sorry about this,” You mutter and walk out of the room, only to return a second later. “wait, what?” You stutter, looking at David with a confused expression as he walks toward you, resting his hands around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I said I like you too, Y/n.” He repeats himself, feeling you soften into his embrace. “Now will you shut up and kiss me?”

You chuckle, leaning in closer. “I don’t have to be told twice.” 

[nonstoplover]

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 1.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.6K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (this one written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 2.0, the alternative idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something's really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage. A minute later he was already dialling the number he had found on the website as he was slowly getting out of the car.

Walking a little further from the vehicle he looked up and down the totally empty road in front of and behind him. As he listened to the ringing coming to his ear, he couldn't help but think what if the car would explode?

"Hello, Dave's Auto Repair," a chirpy, womanish voice answered the call. "How can I help?"

"Uh... I think something in my car engine went wrong," Timothée spoke, trying to sound less amateurish.

"What are you experiencing?"

"The car started kinda twitching so I pulled off the road and now there's a bit of smoke coming out of the hood," he turned back towards his car with knitted eyebrows, his eyes searching for any new happening.

"Alright, where are you?" The woman on the other side asked and he swiftly gathered all information he could give her about his whereabouts.

She reassured him that soon a breakdown truck would come and pick him up and pull his car to the garage where they would repair it. Hanging up the call Timothée let out a relieved sigh, already feeling less stressed even though his vehicle was still in a quite bad condition.

Thank God I'm not in a hurry, he thought as he slowly sank to a sitting position on the ground, unlocking his phone to spend the rest of his waiting scrolling through social media.

About twenty minutes later he heard the familiar sound of a car approaching and glancing up he was glad to notice it to be the thing he wanted to see. He got up to walk back to his car, leaving the space in front of his car free. The breakdown truck slowly reached him and pulled over in the spot he was previously sitting at. Timothée stepped forward just as the door opened, a figure jumping out.

"Hi, I'm (y/n), from Dave's Auto Repair," (y/n) walked closer, pointing back over her shoulder to the large stickers on the side of the truck behind her advertising the mentioned company, a toolbox swinging in her other hand. "You called for us, right?"

"Ye-yeah," Timothée muttered, eyes slightly widened. "I'm Timmy. I mean, Timothée."

This was not what he was expecting to happen. In his mind he was waiting for a beefy, older man, not a girl around his age. Her (y/h/c) hair was pulled back into a quite messy ponytail, baby hairs that weren't long enough to stay with the others framing her beautiful face that was covered in small, smeared oil-spots. No makeup was on her face but she without a doubt was still the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

(y/n) placed the toolbox in her left hand before wiping the now free right in her stained, blue overalls before holding it out towards him, a playful glance in her eyes as she watched his slight suffering. He immediately reached out to shake the held out hand, wondering about how could this girl keep her palm and fingers so soft whilst working such a job.

"Okay, let's see this rowdy engine," she giggled, bypassing him. She put the box down next to her feet and had the engine hood open, half disappearing in it in no second.

Timothée paced up and down behind her, trying hard to not be a nusiance as he examined the process. The thoughts were racing in his head no matter how hard he tried to stop them. This girl was the absolute dream girl for him. All his life he was saying that he was waiting for a girl who could take care of things herself, whether it's changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And now here she was in front of him. He had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

(y/n) examined the car for only less than a minute, recognising the common problem swiftly. She could feel his eyes on her back all the time she was working, and she hated to admit but it made her flustered. The first glance she casted on him she felt a strange attraction, like a magnet that pulled her towards the boy.

It was hard to concentrate on the work in front of her but she resisted the urge to turn her eyes towards Timothée every other second and shut her mind as good as she could, focusing solely on the engine.

Not much later she straightened her back with a sigh, climbing out while (unsuccessfully) cleaning her palms in her workwear, closing the hood behind her. With a quick glance at her bottom she made sure it wasn't dirty and opening the door she sat in his car. She started the engine and smiled happily when she heard the satisfying growling of it, and after fully rolling down the window she stuck her head out.

"Can I go a bit with it?"

Timothée nodded, completely astonished and watched as she drove past him and the service truck, speeding off into the distance. It felt weird to let a complete stranger just drive away with his car, but all her stuff was here beside him and somehow he trusted her enough to remain calm. It was part of her job.

A couple minutes later the shrinking image of his car started growing again, signalling that she was coming back to him. Turning the car carefully around (y/n) came to a stop at the exact same spot the car was standing at, shutting the engine off and getting of.

"We're done," she stretched her back.

"Already?" Timothée replied, and even though he tried hard to fight back the disappointed tone of his voice, it was useless.

"Yeah," (y/n) chuckled, moving her shoulders in a shrugging motion. "It wasn't such a serious problem, and it's quite common actually. I'm used to having to solve it."

"It wasn't serious? It was smoking!"

"Don't let the facade fool you."

"Never again," he muttered, though he meant quite a different thing. All he could think about was how acutely the appearance of the girl fooled him when she got out of her car.

In the meantime (y/n) placed all the equipment she used back in the toolbox and brought it back to the truck, swinging it into the passenger's seat.

"How much is it?" Timothée followed her, pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

The girl rapidly calculated the fare in her mind, announcing it to the boy, but when she glanced at the amount of money he placed in her palm, she had to rethink the situation, thinking she'd said the wrong number.

"It's... it's a lot more," (y/n) frowned, looking up into his green eyes in confusion.

"I know," he giggled and shrugged, visibly blushing. He glanced down at the ground, trying to hide his fluster.

"Oh, wow."

The young girl never felt more speechless in her entire life. This man randomly gave her about twice the price of what she worked for. What should she say? A simple thank you didn't seem enough.

"I mean, thank you, that's very generous of you."

"You deserve it. You came here to the middle of nowhere in no time," Timothée held his arms out, pointing around the two of them. "And you repaired my car in no time. It's quite out of the common."

(y/n) felt the blood rush to her cheeks hearing the compliment. Not one customer had ever talked to her like this before.

"But, you know, it still wasn't perfect," the boy spoke up again, slightly cringing by his straightforwardness. The girl looked up, curiously waiting what he would say, a little scared to hear a possible mistake she made. "You could still fix it, though."

The small pause wasn't meant to increase the nervous tension in the air as it eventually did, Timothée just had to take another deep and shaky breath before speaking the final words out, ready for rejection.

"How?" (y/n) couldn't take it anymore, her rusty voice breaking the silence. Her father would kill her if she had made a noticeable mistake.

"If I can take you out for dinner sometime."

She thought she heard wrong. Was this boy truly flirting with her so slyly?

"I mean, of course you don't have to, no pressure, really, I would just like to get know you more," he rambled on in embarrassment.

"Hey, hey, shh!" (y/n) silenced him, placing a hand against his shoulder. "I'd love to."

This time it was Timothée who thought he had misheard the outspoken words, but seeing the wide, cheery smile on her face he convinced himself that it was actually her answer without a doubt.

"Amazing!" He exclaimed.

"Give me your phone, I'll put in my number and then we can arrange the time and place," she held out her hand, a little surprised at herself and how she confidently lead the situation unlikely to her natural behaviour.

Within a minute she had finished it and even sent herself a text so she could have his number as well, placing the device back in the boy's hand.

"Okay, then, I gotta go now, my shift's still going." (y/n) spoke. "See you later, I guess."

"Yeah, see you!" Timothée answered, still mesmerized by the girl and how his plan to ask her out succeeded.

He was still standing in the middle of the road when she started the truck and turning around drove off, his phone in his hand, eyes wide and joyful.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Danny had just finished dealing with one problem when a sort of old problem reared it's ugly head and made itself a priority.   For once, he may have to deal with a supernatural entity the same way any Fenton traditionally would.

trigger warning for suicide mention and school shooting mention

“Uh, well, I know a way I can help.”  Danny smiled, rubbing the back of his head.  “Sorry for making that wish without asking your permission but I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”

“I’m certain.”  Desiree sighed and turned to fly away, but Danny couldn’t just let her go like that.  People made wishes haphazardly all the time, and interpretation was a horrible thing to mix magick into.

“I wish that you were free of the curse that was laid on you.”  She froze, turning to stare at him with wide red eyes.  Pink and green light gathered around her fingertips and she raised her hands.

“So you have wished it… so shall it be.”  A cloud of smoke enveloped her like a cocoon, and Danny squinted into it.  A wave of force exploded from the cloud and all the booths shook with the energy released, Danny being knocked to the ground.  When he looked up, Desiree was blue-skinned, her silver armbands violet and her dress a dark green.  Eyes like stars looked down upon her new form, bottom half still a cloud of wispy mist, and she slowly began to smile and laugh.  “I’m… free?  I’m free!  Thank you, Danny, thank you so much!”  She flicked her hand, pink and blue ripples of light fixing up the cotton candy explosion and even setting Danny on his feet properly.  “I had thought I’d never be free of that wretched curse!”

“No problem!  Just, if you can avoid it, please don’t go hurting anyone?”  She arched a brow at him and Danny winced.  “I mean, I’m kind of trying to keep everyone, ghosts and humans alike, safe in my town, you know?”

“I cannot promise not to hurt anyone but I won’t be staying in this Realm for long.”  Desiree smiled, a sharp and dangerous baring of teeth and a gaze fixed on something far beyond them that Danny felt pity for.  “After all, I have to find the fool who did this to me and show him how it feels.  And then, I’ll return to my own realm, and a queendom of my own shall be mine!”  She laughed, lights and swirls of colors that his brain had no way of making sense of dancing around her, and throughout the park.  After a moment, she sighed and patted his head.  “Thank you, Danny.  Stay safe.”  And in a swirl of pink that might not have actually been pink, she was gone.

Danny took a moment to feel all warm and tingly inside about how he helped someone so easily, and then he let everything slide past him and through him, flying into the ground and then back up under the table.  The cold of his ghost curled back up into a ball somewhere within him and his skin regained its color and warmth, the world settling back into a thin extreme indigo lense.  He crawled out from under the table cloth and found Tucker, staring at where he had been, and tackled him.  They tumbled to the ground with a yelp from Tucker and Danny laughed, rolling away from the zap of the belt.  “Dude, Desiree is a Jinni!  I wished for a dick and now I have magickally transitioned.”

“Don’t let my being crushed into the ground by you fool ya, I’m genuinely overjoyed for you about that.”  Tucker lifted his head and laughed, deactivating the Specter Deflector before dragging Danny into a hug in the grass.  The hug lasted longer than he felt this deserved, even if he was over the moon about it.  It was also tighter than it should be, and Tucker’s gold was streaked with all kinds of wild blurples, marshons and even some grick.

“Dude, are you alright?”  Danny patted Tucker’s back when he just squeezed tighter and sighed.  “Ok.  We can do this, but like, we’re gonna get stepped on.”  Tucker relented, finally, and they got up, dusting the dirt and grass from their clothes before Danny was hugged, again.  “Tuck?”

“I… we need to talk, with the others too.”  Well, this promised to be interesting at least.  A good distraction from what happened before, hopefully.

It was not, in fact, a good distraction from the shapeshifter that had essentially murdered him (Sam was not the cause, no matter what she probably thought, and he needed to tell her that at some point, she deserved to hear it).  No, instead Danny, Sydney and through the skype call Sam listened to Tucker tell them about how he’d wished that Danny hadn’t gone into the portal and apparently all hell broke loose from that.  On one hand, it was almost freeing to know that even if Danny hadn’t caved to peer pressure like an idiot, the portal still would’ve been wrong when it turned on.  It ached to know that if he hadn’t died in there, his sister would’ve died out here.

But the burning in Danny’s soul was nothing, apparently, compared to Sydney.  “Wait, Tucker, did you say, Spectra?  As in Penelope Spectra?”  Oh boy, Danny knew that tone and he didn’t like it.

“Yes…” Tucker backed up a bit, while Danny shifted to stand in front of him, hand in his pocket.  “She’s the guidance counselor at Casp-”

Sydney glitched, glitched hard.  His features stretched, twisted, overlapped before settling on the image of a corpse, blood dripping from his mouth and the back of his skull as he hissed fury that made the skype call lag and crackle with static.  “Penelope Spectra should be dead like the rest of us!  I- show me a picture of her.  Now!”

“Ok, ok,” Tucker said, pulling up a picture from the school’s website.  “There’s surely plenty of people with that name, Sydney, no need to freak out.”

Except, he did.  When they pulled up the image of a ginger woman with hair done up in what looked almost like horns and a red business suit, the air around Sydney shone with green and his eyes were pits of red light.  “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!  NO ONE CAN SURVIVE A BULLET TO THE HEAD LIKE THAT!  I SURE AS HELL DIDN’T AND NEITHER DID ANY OF THE OTHER BULLIES LIKE HER!”

Tucker, slowly, exited the browser and reactivated his Specter Deflector™ while Danny gently tugged Sydney back from the screen.  It stung, the dark reddish colors radiating off Sydney like heat, anger that wasn’t his own boiling in his chest.  Danny took a slow, deep breath, and when he breathed out he pushed the anger out of him with it.  “Breathe with me, Syd.  Can you do that?”

“I’m dead buster.”

“Yeah, and you don’t need to breathe, but can you?”  The glitching slowed ever so slightly, and Danny brought his energy as close to the surface as he could while still human.   “In and out, c’mon.  In,” the heat receded, concentrated, burned darker for it.  “Out.”  It dissipated in waves, ripples of static on his screens and Tucker grabbed the laptop to keep the current from ruining it.  They did that, breathing, for a while until Sydney looked less like a floating corpse and more like a monochrome translucent image.  He rubbed his arms and looked away while Danny turned to lock eyes with Tucker.  Tucker was busily typing away on the laptop now that nothing was interfering with the wifi signal.  “Tuck?”

“It’s a good thing Sydney stays away from the school,” he muttered, Sam snorting over the line.�� “Is it possible for an unagitated ghost to have some color and look like a human being?”

“Uh, not that I know about.”  Danny glanced at Sydney and gave him a pat on the back.  “Syd?”

“I-I don’t know… I’ve been a bit stuck, on the other side you know?”  Sydney was becoming fuzzier at the edges and Danny sighed when he realized the other boy was invisible.  “Maybe someone else would know.”

“Right,” Tucker drawled.  “Syd, do you wanna come with us to go ask Agatha about this?  If we’re dealing with a well-hidden ghost, then I wanna make sure you two are on top of your game.  A hearty meal, or I guess a ghouly meal, is essential for any fight.”

Sydney at least flickered back into something easier on the eyes if not fully there, and he chuckled.  “Uh, maybe?  Who’s Agatha?”

“Agatha Reece,” Sam said over the call, pausing to cough into her arm.  “She’s the ghost of a lunch lady at Casper.”  Sydney’s white eyes went wider than humanly possible, a touch of sepia seeping into his greyscale.

“Ah, you know what, I think I’ll just head out and go see some sights.  I’m sure you two don’t need me to help you grab a snack.”  With that, Sydney flew through Tucker’s ceiling, and Danny leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh on his lips.  It felt like a lot of pressure just rose off of his chest, though there another pressure entirely coming from his swirling thoughts.

“It’s a damn good thing I got Sydney out of the school before he actually saw Dash doing the shit I ranted to him about.”  They all laughed at that, and Danny felt a bit lighter still.  “Though, I imagine school’d be pretty interesting without him.”

“Yeah, we could actually walk around without worrying about getting shoved into a locker.”  Tucker stretched his limbs out, and Danny felt an ache in his joints just at the reminder.  “What a stereotype.”

“As much as I’m glad to cheer on the virtues of Jazz’s therapy sessions with Sydney,” Sam cut in with a shaky, light laugh of her own.  “We still need to figure this Spectra thing out.”

“I’m looking her up and while she’s not stupid enough to use the same name over and over again, her picture is sorta everywhere over the past five decades,” Tucker muttered.  Danny got up and rested his chin on Tucker’s shoulder, taking in the image of a barely, if at all, changing face go throughout the ages back to the 50s.  “Cause if she’s a ghost, she’s gotta be using a lot of energy to keep looking like that.”

“That’s if she’s a ghost,” Sam said.  There was a long moment of quiet after that, and Sam went off-screen, grabbing some book that looked older than Spectra.  “Guys, you just said a Jinni flew off to get revenge on a ghost, how do we know there aren’t other things out there.”

“Mom and Dad have been to other places before…” Danny felt his hand slipping out of reality as the realization hit him like a football to the face.  “They’ve made so many windows to other places and then if a drone could survive going in, they went in, and then Jazz and I went in with them.  Holy shit, what if there was stuff in there we just couldn’t see?”

“What did Sydney and Agatha call the other side?”  Sam sniffled.  “The Infinite Realms?  There’s probably a whole lot of things that Spectra could be.”

“Based on this track record of depression, she’s either a shitty psychologist who doesn’t get how the human mind works, or she’s fucking up people’s lives on purpose.”  Tucker shifted so Danny could see the news article that he was looking at better.  “That’s a lot of people who went from average mental states to killing themselves, or going into self-isolation.”

“Maybe she likes ruining people’s lives,” Sam muttered.  “There’s plenty of legends and myths about things that like to do that.  Danny, have your parents made anything that might help reveal a supernatural being hiding as a human?”

“I… maybe?  I’ll have to check, I haven’t been paying attention to their weapons or anything lately.”  He had been actively avoiding anything offensive that his parents made besides the plasma rifle he had.  He wasn’t looking to have things go off on him, after all.  “Tuck, you check with Agatha about what Spectra might be and I’ll head home, see what Mom and Dad have worked on.  Sam, you see if you can find anything on, I dunno, emotional vampires or straight-up assholes who love ruining lives in folklore.”

“Can do, captain, but there’s a lot of the latter in every kind of story.”  Sam offered a wave before ending the call and Danny sighed, sagging in his chair.

“Look at you, takin charge like a hero.”  Tucker hugged him again, and Danny leaned into his side.

“Yeah.  Let’s hope I can keep being a hero.”

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 29

You knew it might ripple around that you were working on both popular shows, you just hoped that none would try to spend much time delving into your life. For a time at least you planned to be mum in interviews if offered and just let your work speak for itself. Truly how much interest could people have in the voice over artists. Animators and writers, of which you were for both on the animated show, you knew there would be of some interest but easily overshadowed by the show itself. At best you guessed to be asked to a convention or something to greet the few people with questions or wishing possibly for an autograph for the ancient show.

Closing up your garage you took another tour of each room seeing it all come together and oddly in your storage room holding your blankets and such you couldn’t help but notice that it could make a nice at home recording studio. Already you had a mic and worked with a group of friends to edit the background sounds for your radio show years prior with just your laptop. Certainly with your now ample funds and spacious abode you could have a lovely setup for a sound studio easing things even if somehow another season of the show was called for. It would be grueling with your job at the hotel but you could make it work with Celebrian and her twin cousins who had helped you with the animation for the show before just rating to have another project to get back into.

Added to the mix of house sketches you roughly designed a layout for the larger of the two storage rooms knowing you’d probably never have that much to store. The dream of a possible studio taking hold and demanding to be sketched at least. Desks, shelves, cubbies and the actual recording section with the built in booth and stand in one corner. The lighting was fine for what you would need sticking to the simple installed lanterns along the walls and every surface could have more than one use to utilize the small space to whatever that could pop up. An early night in by the time you’d priced out what you might need through dinner was called for and you were ready to get started on the next show.

.

Breakfast came with a whoosh from your phone alerting you to the email that rolled you over in bed. Lifting your phone you read the notice of a deposit into the account for your trust you’d set up from your father’s clan funds. 20k now sat in your little black card attached solely to that account and sighing deeply you grumbled wondering what you were going to do with your money. Turning your head however your eyes shifted to your study and sitting up you went to fetch your laptop.

You could feel another writing burst coming up and eventually you would have to type something and until you bought a chair you couldn’t properly use your wonderful new desk. Fetching your laptop you turned it on and right to the bookmarked website you found the chair on, with a click you ordered it and in the aftermath you eyed the screen only to groan and rub your face when the receipt was emailed to you and that whoosh sounded from your phone. You weren’t going to go crazy or blow through it but you were determined to not let it be a noose around your neck and this chair arriving, surprisingly the following day, would be the start of accepting that you just had those funds to use if you so wished.

In shorts and a tank top chosen from the heat felt in your trip to your mailbox to check for yesterday’s mail that turned out to just be an odd flyer for boats on sale you brought inside and added to your shred pile of mail that Kuu loves to handle for you, fully entertained by the use and effects of a shredder. Surely the strips would be scattered through nests and eventually be worn away to nothing in time. A messy bun was called for and tucked under your helmet allowing the breeze to cool the back of your neck on the ride to the shop.

At the early hour and quick stop you parked on the street outside and hurried inside for your mug from Balin while the others were oddly missing. His rag from cleaning the mess formerly covering the counter left in its green mush coated glory for all to see. A quick wave later and you were heading for the door as he said, “Can’t wait to hear what Bunny is up for today.” Your soft giggle was all he heard and chuckling to himself hoping that was a good sign and not one for more grim news for her.

Barely moments after you had left Thorin entered through the back door with Dwalin helping to smooth the flannel across his back. “I’m sorry, I thought he liked peas! He usually eats them so gladly.”

Thorin fired back tucking in the front of his fresh undershirt in he had in his trunk for emergencies, “He ate them fine, he just neglected to swallow them and then sneezed the chewed mess all over me.”

Dwalin, “Surely he,”

“Oh I’m not mad at Frodo. Strictly involuntary I get that, my issue was my mouth was open and everything.”

Balin chuckled again and said, “We’ve all been there. Just be glad it was peas, been there with my pebble with naught but her own snot exploding at me.”

Thorin sighed and looked to the bill that Balin was adding to the register, “How could I have missed her I wasn’t gone three minutes?!”

Balin chuckled, “You left it on the burner, I couldn’t think of a good excuse to have her linger and possibly be late.”

Thorin huffed and turned to lift the rag he took to the sink in the back to scrub clean, “I’ll handle this then.”

Dwalin said, “If it helps he never sneezes on Frerin and Gran always said a baby sneeze near you means that you’re their favorite!”

From the back Thorin rumbled, “I am so flattered.”

The brothers chuckled and got to finishing readying the shop for their first customers hoping to be in for the first part of the show in their usual seats already showing up to cue outside.

.

A ringing phone was how the show opened and from there Wolsey informed Countess Beatrice that he had found Bunny. Over the span of a week gradual hints of waking were spotted by the staff, always when the guests were out of the room. Until with a hard slap sitting up out of sleep the King of Gondor held his cheek staring at the empty bed Bunny had backed then slid off of out of her dream falling onto the floor with a pained cry. Leaning over the bed towards the woman tangled in the iv and various tethers to monitors now going off that they were disconnected he peered at the panting frantic collapse of the nightmare lingering in her eyes she had escaped from then said in the race of the nurses into the room, “Miss Bunny, welcome to Gondor.”

“Up you get Deary,” one kind nurse said while she and another helped Bunny up into the bed again untangling the chords and reattaching the monitors once she was safely lounging again.

Looking at the King Bunny got the play back of all she had missed until the narrator came in ready to drop in on his savior and thank them with the pictures he had drawn of her distracting her fully until Beatrice and the others could be brought in to embrace their badly smarting little friend. Lingering across the wall however Durin was noted to be watching intently the same woman he came to see daily without any word traded past a soft whisper he would return again the next day leaving a single tiny pile of white flowers gathered through her rest in his strolls through the gardens on his daily walks.

Every Durin listening in could feel tingling on their arms recognizing what they hoped to be the twist in the tale they had ached for catching hints shows prior that she might be one of the mysterious brides of Durin, mainly one he married in his final two lifetimes. Tiny white flowers and barely a word spoken between them with only rumors of an innocent saved selflessly with nearly the cost of her life. Nearly a spotless Dwarf lineage till that unspeakably irresistible half Hobbit that mingled the sudden love of blooms into the great bloodline.

It was a slow episode without much to spur angst or drama to make the heart beat faster but the sheer emotion in it had people all but openly weeping in the clear showing of adoration and hinted hope for more from the great Dwarf King reborn. The execution of Holm and burning of his body came with a spine tingling speech from Wolsey to the troops looking on leaving people actually clapping proudly for the fictional speaker. All the way through your final three minute clip of cheers and chants from the soldiers allowing you to slip out to go to the bathroom real quick after missing your chance earlier. Returning just in time for your sign off music to gather your things already feeling yourself smirking imagining the reactions on people’s faces when Bunny would be back at the helm the following show.

.

“You are maddening.” With a giggle you pulled your buzzing phone from your pocket while Mal said, “I can’t even try to keep up with you.”

“Good. Ample twists and turns coming up.”

“Will Bunny at least talk next show?”

Lowly you said leaning in to whisper, “She’s opening it.”

Mal chuckled and patted your shoulder, “Finally, some good news.”

You giggled again and reached over stroking BamBam’s head in his nap, “Nice to know he’s enjoying the five hour naps my show grants him.”

“He is. His leg is getting better everyday and he keeps getting heavier.”

“No doubt, heavier than you soon enough.”

“How are your birds?”

“Good, Belly and Darling are still on their honeymoon and Roac seems to be in good spirits still by what Thorin mentioned yesterday.”

With a grin she said, “So I hear we’re heading to the zoo tomorrow?”

“Ah, you’ve been invited as well,”

“Guys asked me yesterday. I hope they have the bear cub exhibit open.” She said adjusting the carrier in her grip on your way down to the garage, “Dain’s coming out to watch BamBam again, they seem to like one another.”

“Well that’s good as they’re set to live the rest of their lives together.” Making her giggle again. “No hint yet on how things went with Dis?”

Softly her cheeks shifted pink and she said, “We ate food. Talked.”

“Hmm.” You said making her look you over, shaking your head when her lips parted you said, “It’s clearly a courting thing I’m not privy to.”

“Oh don’t be like that. It’s just, a clan thing, supposed to remain-,”

You patted her arm, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take it as a good sign of things settling down.”

“Not close to settling down.” You glanced at her, “There’s stages, we’ve been welcomed but it’s still a while off before settling down, living together is beyond question for some time and even if we did want to elope that would be downright scandalous to be so quickly.” She drew in a quick breath then said, “Not that we aren’t serious, there are-,”

“Rules.”

She sighed out in reply, “Rules.”

Easing your hand over her back you said, “Be thankful you aren’t an Elf, some courting can take centuries to even be accepted.” Open mouthed she looked at you and you nodded, “It’s always best to meet in childhood and then families warm up over time by the time you are grown.”

“Centuries?!” You nodded again and she asked, “What about Thorin? You would wait centuries to even have dinner?”

“We’ve had dinner, several, and seen a film, been on vacation.”

“I mean as a couple.”

“I know what you meant, and if he did want a relationship with me he would just have to ask me himself in blunt terms, of which I am certain he could hardly accomplish easily. The one plus I assume of having Maiar blood. I can take as long or be as swift as I care to be.”

“Why don’t you just ask then?”

For a moment she caught a timid glance away from her, “I don’t like being wrong.”

Her hand settled on your arm, “He’s not leading you on, and you aren’t wrong. I know your ex lied to you terribly but that’s not what’s happening here.”

“It’s just, odd.”

Leaning in her head tapped the side of yours in a sigh, “Courting is odd. You know how Amad and Adad got together?”

You shook your head, “She fell off a patio and got her leg stuck in a flower pot, one of those deep ones and by the time his brother found him he’d gotten her leg free and she was halfway over his shoulder in lifting her out. Reputation demanded they were courting.” You looked at her and she nodded, “I fell off a ladder and they caught me, all you had to do was say ‘surprise me’ and he fell into your trap while pretending he was the one saving you.”

“Oh really?” You said stepping out of the lift with her beside you.

“Oh yes, stuck in his own slump after a poorly crumbled romance you just scooped him out of. Lit up his world you did.”

“It’s terribly romantic when you put it like that.” She nodded, “Terribly stuffed with fiction,” earning a playful glare from Mal making you giggle out, “But romantic all the same.”

“Go get some tea and make your damsel swoon.” Rolling your eyes you giggled in her mounting her scooter to ride off again. Finally looking at the phone in your palm you read the notice from your email that the first Bombadil deposit had been added to your account. Helmet added and you settled onto your own scooter, easing your leg over the dip under the handlebars the key was eased into the ignition and turned to start the scooter. 80 k post taxes was just sitting there and in your head you crossed off 40 to be switched to your savings account settled for each thousand deposited to be exchanged with a gold coin added to a vault deep in the treasury in the heart of Erebor. The single coin that had sat there for nearly a century waiting for company now had a tiny pile of friends to keep him entertained.

.

“Frodo exploded on me.” Once at the counter Thorin ignored the still whispering people filling the room speculating on future parts to the show.

“Top or bottom,” you asked and he wet his lips.

“Mouthful of peas sneezed at me.”

“Ah, been there. Few of my best shirts fell to my sisters when they were toddlers.”

“My mouth was open.”

“No,” he nodded and you couldn’t help but giggle offering the folded bill between your fingers.

His fingers wrapped around it just barely brushing yours and he said, “Yes, one cup coming up, settle in and don’t mind the gossip.”

Smirking to yourself you turned for your usual high table and stool you hopped up onto, settling your bag in your lap you brought out one of your sketching journals that had you finishing a sketch you had started the other day of a tapestry that Durin was fabled to have woven himself for his love. One of thirty possible designs you hadn’t decided on for the second book illustrations for the unfolding of his storyline. Perhaps one raven too many your head tilted and chin propped in your palm only to look up when Thorin settled two mugs down on your table. Rumbling lowly, “And just what have you got there?”

Turning the book around you said, “Brainstorming.”

A smirk ghosted across his lips and he all but hummed back, “A betrothal tapestry. Lovely, though you need anvils across the tops.” Your brows furrowed and leaned in while he reached over taking hold of your pen you released to let him sketch out the required elements and naming each. “Yours was very close. For the show I take it?”

You nodded and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have record of the real one somewhere? Would you?”

Barely above a whisper he replied, “Gran has an etching of it in mithril. Every marriage in our line has one, fully colored with gemstones.”

“Really?”

“Yes, though it’s meant to remain-,”

“In family,” your grin dropped and you looked down to take a picture of your mug only for his hand to lay over your free hand while you set down your phone to lift your mug.

“You, can see it.”

You shook your head after your sip, “It’s not you, something Mal mentioned.”

“Ah, if that has something to do with Dis or the boys it’s a step towards earning trust.”

“I get that.”

“It’s not all meant to be secretive, only with Dams to enter the family fold. Each clan has their own tradition and way of welcoming, phrases, rites of welcome that have to be crossed off. You were a spectacular buffer in the Festival, you are counted as an honorary Stonefoot, but until an engagement is settled in contract then it must remain between them.”

“It really is a culture difference, don��t mind me with four to choose from and to have had to memorize myself I have no right to pout on being on the outside of another.” Smirking in the retraction of his hand you lifted your mug.

“Four, which one would you follow then?”

“Whichever one I stumble into. Following where my feet decide, hasn’t steered me wrong yet.”

“No doubt.” He muttered keeping his eyes on you through his own sip and upon lowering his mug he asked, “What are you up to today?”

“Curtains. You?”

“I am helping Dwalin find a suitable stroller for Frodo and Billi.”

“Don’t they rent those?”

“Yes, but none good enough for our youngest pebbles.” Glancing around you eyed the still whispering tables, when he lowered his mug again he hummed out, “We wouldn’t happen to get to meet Durin’s wife, would we?”

“Anything is possible.”

“Have we already met her?” You gave a subtle shrug and he chuckled to himself, “Figures.”

A basic plan of which exhibits you might see in your trip to the zoo filled the rest of your stop. Until at the arrival of Bilbo to take Dwalin and Thorin shopping for strollers you joined them out to the parking lot and waved them goodbye as they piled into Dwalin’s car to drive off for their own shopping trip. In the back Thorin kept sight of you until you turned separate ways. Again at the fabric shop you followed the same steps you had followed when Thorin had brought you here. Into the bend of your arm you tucked each of the rolls of fabric you wanted that were longer than your body luring a pair of taller associated to come over and help you to the cutting table. A hefty stack of folded fabric was joined with colored thread to match and accenting buttons for the ties to hold back the curtains.

Home again you went and closing your garage behind you to stroll through your home hearing another awkward song from Belly while Dot was busy exploring her new home once again looking for extra details to add to her nest. Passing them you went to your storage room where you brought a teal trunk out to the living room to stand up on its side against the wall. Finding the bag with the curtain rods and loops you left by your couch.

Opening the split door on the top the two halves folded back revealing the cubies and shelves around the teal sewing desk you unfolded and settled your sewing machine on the end of. With projector on you listened to the show playing in the background while you got started on cutting the fabric. One section at a time you hemmed each end and stitched the fabric around the securing T shaped tabs for the loops you had bought. Pairing the curtains by destination you had the piles lined up then turned your gaze to the curtain rods once you had switched off your sewing machine.

“Belly?”

Your voice echoed through the house and curiously following it the raven found you atop a sideways turned trunk when you realized you still hadn’t bought a ladder yet. On the shelves by the door he landed and eyed the bar in your hand asking, “Yes Jackrabbit?”

“Is this even?” You asked with pencil in hand ready to mark where to secure the brackets.

Dangling from the doorframe Darling came to a stop curious what you were doing and Belly answered, “Yes, should it not be lower?”

Marking the one side with your arm outstretched holding the bar in place you pulled the pencil back and traded hold of each item to mark the other side of it. “No, the loops for the curtains are about two inches so to cover the window fully the bar has to be higher than the window frame.”

The peach curtains for your sisters’ room went in easily enough for their smaller window higher up on the wall than the other bedrooms but longer than the others. With screwdriver in hand you worked each securing bracket into place for one half of the window then opened the next kit to level that with the first. Fetching the curtains you brought them in now for the trio of Ravens to see you ease them onto their rods you lifted in your climb onto the trunk again to settle the bars in place. Grins eased onto their cheeks watching the finished product coming together as you eased them back to tie them back with your hand made straps secured by fake crystal coated star buttons.

Two trunks were needed to reach the nearly ceiling high level you wanted for your Naneth’s room. This one was easier to measure out once you laid the bar out on the windowsill seeing how much you had on either side of the window once it was centered. Still watching you once they had torn open the packs for you they flew up with the brackets and screws so you wouldn’t have to keep getting up and down easing the task greatly. Then when you lifted the curtain coated rod they helped to grip the rod holding the other end to ease it as a team into place. Using the pulley system on either end they helped you to ease the curtains open on the larger window with internal shades already built into the window just like the two smaller windows to the right of it you were leaving without the second set of curtains as they met on a corner.

The white orange accented bedroom was next with the white and grey striped curtains mounted nearly to the ceiling again. Two sets of double windows were covered easily on opposite ends of the same curved wall.

The blue/orange room proved more challenging with a small double window near the ceiling centered on one wall, up high next to the ceiling on the orange wall your blue and white curtains hung to the ground, easily secured by standing on the table you had assembled. Moving a trunk against the blue wall to the right of it you added a matching set up near the ceiling covering the double window. The other tan half of the wall had another high double window the third set was secured around reaching from floor to ceiling.

On your feet you nipped at your lip eyeing the final product bringing the rooms fuller into creation. To the living room again you went with your laptop settling onto the couch, first securing the transfer of half of your Bombadil funds to your savings adding forty more gold coins to your vault then switching to check the shipping on your office chair.

 ..

“Hey hey hey, it’s been a heck of a time but don’t you fret  it’s just you and me your dear friend Bunny, devoted with my ear to the ground here to give you all the latest on those lovable Durin boys of ours.” Gasps rippled around only to fall silent as your voice rang out again spreading grins on the faces of the Durins listening in hoping to catch the next segment in their ancestor’s fictionalized past. They knew the truth from his journals and stories handed down through their line kept within the clan but they had to admit they loved hearing your version of it. “Out in the middle of who knows where in an impressively odd flying shark of all things I am currently tucked in a water closet hiding out from yet another person coming to tell me to get back to bed.” Grins spread at Bunny’s determination to be up and about. “But I’ve found this handy wheeled stool and as long as I don’t hit some steps I should be just peachy.”

At the sound of the door opening Wolsey could be heard saying, “There you are.” Then his groaning at your rolling past him.

Down the hall you rolled saying, “You’ll never catch me alive.”

Raul called out proudly, “Roll like the wind Bunny!”

Though Durin halted the game with her gasp in his playful rumble of, “I see we have two pirates aboard my ship.”

“Your point being, Shark King?”

“No point, just an order, back to bed.” Bunny groaned and he could be heard rolling her back to her room, “This is strictly a non fleeing floor.”

“No fun, at all. I can see why your lot is the least boisterous bunch I’ve seen in years.”

“That’s unfair, you haven’t even heard our music hours yet.”

“When would those be, half past unfun and never thirty?”

Awkwardly he chortled and rumbled back, “Funny, very funny. I will ensure you have a comfy seat right up front, at sunset, it stretches out to midnight.”

“For such rule sticklers you would assume there would be a bedtime you stuck to. No wonder you’re all scowling.” Again he chortled and the banter had the people listening in were melting at the moment they imagined to be their possible coupling. Only he was called away and Beatrice came in with her family around Bunny on her bed in the most comfortable room offered for guests.

.

Outside the booth you could see Ecthellion and Glorfindel. Mal had to hurry out to meet up with Dain so to their office you went taking a seat to go over all the details coming up in the plans for your book in the future. With confirmation of the stickers being in transit to be brought to the station this week you grinned readying the news in your head for the Durins to be told. Ecthellion said, “Now Gorgo is off next week and there is something planned for this weekend for her family so it would have to be next weekend possibly to handle the draft date. And all that is merely details the read through is just for how to rate the violence and such, they have accepted your book as is, it’s in writing as soon as it’s been rated the book etchings are off to print.”

Letting out a deep breath you replied, “So strange to be so close.”

The pair chuckled and Ecthellion handed you the check in an envelope he slid it into confirming the amount, “10.5k. Any plans for it yet?”

“Not sure yet, had a passing thought to maybe turn one of my storage rooms into an at home sound studio.”

Glorfindel, “That could be very useful, especially if weather were to turn sour or we needed to do repairs here. Or for ads, animated promos, we did leave it open for possible cartoon promotions for the novel, you record the voices do a little three minute skit.”

“I could do that. I’ll work on some things over next week.”

Ecthellion nodded through a grin at you, “Excellent, they will love that, really get the word out. Not to mention if they wanted to record an audio version of your novels or if the show did end up picking up ample amount of fire to possibly get another season. Not even mentioning the ideas Celebrian has had for shows you might join her on in the future.”

“I thought she was focusing on Arwen’s jumping lessons?”

Glorfindel chuckled, “You never know. Between that and the boys and their rock climbing ambitions she might need a getaway of her own.” Making you giggle on your way to the door slipping the envelope into your bag. Hugs were traded and they were off to meet with another possible group with new ideas for their time slot that was in great need for some fresh ideas.

Back down to your garage you had to admit to yourself it was useful that you’d already animated the novel and saved the audio on a hard drive. Back in one of your trunks had the box of animated original images you had drawn with the backup already being compiled into footage reels by Celebrian’s filming company that had promised to do so for you while you were waiting for interest in your story possibly even to self publish a sort of show or film series. The prospect now more possible than ever to come up with the radio spot and the impending book series.

Strapping your helmet on you straddled your bike feeling amply proud of yourself and your own patience through all of this. Even more than that your grump’s words about your achievements so far could only have you imagining how he would react to the news. Just hearing about the curtains could be enough to earn a grin from the serious Dwarf. For the short ride to the bank you remained focused on the ride over wondering how the zoo would go today. The marble building with a polished silver door coated with sword designs across the milky glass panels stood out in the shopping center.

Parked in the section for bikes you removed your helmet and crossed to the walkway heading inside, right up to the large doors that eased open in your approach allowing you in and a Hobbit on your left out. Flashing him a quick grin you continued on brushing your bangs out of your face feeling your long braid sliding across your back with each step you took. Large desks lined the vast hall and off to your left you walked to the counter coated in slips, with your wallet in hand you opened your wallet pulling out the card for your main account you swiped in the card reader then got to filling in the deposit slip. Once filled in you moved to one of the seats in the waiting lounge, from your bag you pulled out the envelope along with your journal you tried to keep busy looking through until the attendant came out saying, “Miss, Pear-?”

Grinning at the woman you stood seeing her eyes flinching from the handheld in her palm to you again with parted lips closing in a quick smile, “Pear is fine.”

Shifting on her feet she showed you back to her office that once she had you alone inside you could tell something was up with her creeping grin and continued stolen glances your way. “How can I help you today, Miss Pear?”

Handing her the deposit slip you pulled out the check that you signed the back of with a pen from your journal, “Just a check deposit over the two grand limit for the atm.”

Her grin split wider and she said, “Not a problem.” Easing through the process to scan the slip into the tabletop deposit system including the check after, you punched in your pin on the keypad aimed at you and she scanned her badge punching in her own authorization code. Again her grin flashed your way and she said, “Easy as pie.”

“Thank you.”

When you readied to stand she asked softly, “I just have one question, I am curious, you wouldn’t happen to be the same Miss Pear listed as working on the new show on Bombadil and the Bunny show?”

“Well, ya.”

“Could I get an autograph?”

“Uh, sure,” you said looking down to the slip of paper she slid to you and you signed a simple J Pear across it with the loop of the r making a pear shape around the name making her grin creep wider.

“Thank you so much! I am loving both shows.”

“Thank you.” Out again you followed her back to the main lobby and gave her a final goodbye and walked out to your scooter again while she giddily shared in whispers just who was just in the bank with her coworkers in the break room once she saw you were on your way out of the lot.

Pt 30

[pjoandhoomemes]

This is a real thing Uncle Rick wrote and put on his website.

“Brace yourself,” Leo said. “These babies are dangerous.”

           He set the nachos in the middle of the table. The platter was piled high with toasted tortilla chips, melted cheese and jalapeno slices.

The six other demigods leaned in to study their new quest.

“Why are they dangerous?” Frank asked. “Do they explode or something?”

Hazel frowned. “Leo, please tell me you didn’t use Gorgon blood for seasoning.”

“Nah, these are legit nachos. But the jalapenos are from the Demeter cabin’s garden. They grow them, like, superhot. Best I’ve ever had.”

Piper pulled a nacho from the pile. “Vegetarian?”

“Yeah, Beauty Queen. Broke my heart to use refried beans with no lard, but for you, I compromised. Now, for the real challenge . . .”

Leo whipped out a jar of green chili sauce. “Valdez High Octane Fuel. May result in severe burns.”

“Bring it on.” Percy rubbed his hands. “I love spicy.”

Annabeth elbowed him. “After drinking from the Phlegethon, you can still say that?”

“Well, I’m digging in.” Jason said. “Before they get cold.”

“Oh, that won’t happen.” Leo’s hand burst into flames. He seared the top of Nacho Mountain. “There you go. Toasted at your table.”

The demigods started pulling nachos off the pile and passing around the Valdez High Octane Fuel.

It was a nice afternoon at the dining pavilion. Most of the campers were off doing their late summer activities – archery classes, the climbing wall, canoeing around the lake. Over by the stables, Arion was munching on a pile of gold nuggets, fueling up after the trip from Camp Jupiter with Hazel and Frank.

“Is it weird that I miss the Argo II?” Jason wondered.

“Nah.” Percy popped a jalapeno slice in his mouth. “We had some good times on that ship. When we weren’t about to die, that is.”

“That was basically always,” Annabeth said.

Piper sighed, gazing out across Long Island Sound. “Yeah. Good times.”

Hazel threw a diamond at Leo. It bounced off his shirt. “I still can’t believe you let us think you were dead.”

“Okay, first of,” Leo said, “I was dead. Second, I came back as soon as I could. Ogygia is like . . . a long way away. I’m just glad it wasn’t centuries afterwards. And third, I did make nachos. That’s the best peace offering I could think of.”

“You sure you can’t stay?” Jason asked. “I mean, dude, everybody needs you here.”

“I appreciate it,” Leo said. “But Calypso kind of wants to see the world. And I kind of want to show it to her.”

Percy cleared his throat, like the jalapeno had gone down wrong. “So . . . where is she?”

“Festus took her to Manhattan for the afternoon. She figured it would be easier, giving me some time with you guys. Besides, she wants to see the city.”

Frank picked the cheese off his nachos. It was times like this he hated being lactose intolerant. “So where will you go next? Will you come out to visit Camp Jupiter? I know Reyna would like to see you.”

Leo laughed. “Last time I was there I blew up her Forum, but thanks. Maybe one of these days. I don’t know. We don’t have any plans. And I kind of like it that way.”

Percy noticed a dreamy, happy look on Leo’s face, like he’d just had a really good dream, wrapped in warm blankets in a comfortable bed. It made him happy for Valdez, but also a little sad.

“I felt so useless,” Percy said. “I mean . . . the final battles with the giants and Gaea. Anybody else feel like I wasn’t even there?”

“That was the whole point, Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth sipped her lemonade.

“For me to be useless?”

“No, your fatal flaw . . . my mom warned you about it. Kymopoleia warned you. You’ve been hearing about it for years. To save a friend, you’d lose the world. You can’t step back if a friend is in trouble.”

“Yeah. But . . .”

“Man,” Leo said. “I know it was harsh, but I had to pull that stunt – get Gaea off the ground, blow her up, risk my life. If I’d told you about . . .”

Percy sighed. “Okay. I would’ve tried to stop you. Or help you. Or something.”

“And that’s what Gaea would want – to have us crossing wires, messing each other up.” Leo pulled another tortilla chip from the pile. “Your big challenge was stepping back, not being the big hero. Letting me do what I needed to do.”

“Not very heroic,” Percy mumbled.

“Which is the whole point,” Piper agreed.

“It’s my struggle too,” said Annabeth. “My flaw is pride. I’ve been learning about that ever since the Argo II set sail. I think I can solve every problem. But I can’t. I needed Piper’s help. I needed to accept that other people need to act, take the risk, solve the problem when I can’t. Percy . . . we had our share of trouble.”

“Like fricking Tartarus, for instance,” he said.

“Yeah. But the end game – that was all Jason, Piper and Leo. Just the way it started. That’s how it had to finish. Us stepping back, letting it happen as it was meant to . . . that was our last big challenge.”

“Just saying it was kind of a letdown.”

Hazel smiled. “Someday, when they write this story, I bet the readers will say the same thing. The great Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase . . . their last challenge was to not be the ones who solved the challenge. But your struggle is being able to let go. Maybe the people who read your story . . . that will be their struggle, too. There’s always a time when you have to let go.”

Percy had to smile. “Hazel, you’ve come a long way since that day at the Caldecott Tunnel. Look at you now – centurion, sorceress, all-around kicker of butts.”

Hazel rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re still the scariest most powerful demigod I know, Jackson. I’m just saying . . . that’s why it was hard for you to not be the center of the fight. But it had to be that way. It doesn’t mean you won’t have other challenges in the future.”

“Oh, please,” Percy groaned. “Can I get through high school first? I need some R&R.”

“And some time with your girlfriend,” Annabeth added.

“And that.”

“Hey,” Frank said. “Did you see your mom? I remember when we were in Alaska, you were trying to call her.”

“Yeah, I did,” Percy said. “She . . . well, she knew I was okay. I’d sent her some letters via the wind spirits, then an Iris-message after the battle. But when I got home, man, I think she cracked some ribs she hugged me so hard. She’s doing all right, though. I mean, my mom is a tough lady. She’s finished her first novel.”

“Nice,” Jason said. “Uh . . . the novel’s not about you, is it?”

Percy frowned. “She won’t tell me. That kind of has me worried. And this little smile she gave my stepdad Paul . . . I dunno. She said she wants it to be a surprise.”

“Uh-oh,” Piper said. “Well, if she gets published and becomes a bestseller, I can give you some tips about dealing with a famous parent. It’s not all fun and games.”

[fatathlon]

Race Report: Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon

My first triathlon of 2019 was a sprint distance race held in southern New Hampshire, called the Greater Nashua Sprint Triathlon. I settled on this race in particular after several months of research, trying to find a race that was both within driving distance and lined up with my training schedule for my 70.3 race. I didn’t know anything about it other than what I found on the website and Facebook page, but it was the 10th annual running of the event, so it seemed likely to be a well-organized race.

Pre-Race

An added bonus to this race was that my wife’s parents and brother live just an hour away from the race location, so we were all able to stay with them and combine it into a family visit. It’s a huge benefit to race day preparations to be in a comfortable location with family before an event, so I’m grateful we were able to have that opportunity. I went to bed at the same time as my kids, and actually managed to sleep through most of the night. I only woke up once, at about 3 AM, and then drifted in and out until about 5, when I got up.

Breakfast was my customary bowl of oatmeal flavored with maple syrup with a coffee. While I had the syrup out, I took the opportunity to fill my gel bottle. I still wasn’t sure if I would even use fuel during the race, because it was so short, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to have it along.

Breakfast

Race Fuel

Nice morning view

I had everything pretty much ready to go the night before, so all I had to do in the morning was load my bike, put my transition bag in the car, and head out. The drive was uneventful. As I got close to Nashua, I started to see more and more cars carrying bikes. It wasn’t long before I saw a fully decked out Quintana Roo on the back of a pickup. Welcome to New Hampshire.

Parking was an absolute nightmare. There was a lot designated for racers, which was the entire area around a local school, but it was already packed to the gills by the time I arrived. I ended up having to park underneath a swing set. I checked the air in my tires at my car, put my transition bag on my bag and rode to the transition area.

Transition was pretty well organized, with everyone having a marked spot on the racks. Once again my bike was too tall to fit very well on the rack. The saddle was too high to easily get it under the bar, and then there wasn’t enough of a hang to keep it on there securely. Not much I could do about it, so I set up my transition stuff and went to get body-marked, check out the transition routes, and wander down to the water.

My transition setup. My rear wheel is basically on the ground.

There were about 15 minutes of announcements before the race, which felt like they took forever. I tried to keep my arms moving, doing some arm circles and such, but mostly just stood around feeling my springs coil. Finally, they started calling waves. Everyone had an assigned wave number, and when your wave was called, you went down to a dock area to check-in and queue up for the start.

Swim

This was my first race wearing a wetsuit. It was also my first race with a wave start. It cheated everyone out of some time, because the timing mat was on the dock and the waves treaded water for a minute or two before actually starting. But at least everyone lost the same amount of time, so it didn’t really matter.

I put some water on the back of my neck just before jumping in, but it felt like a warm bath. I was prepared for a cold shock when stepped off the dock, but it was just balmy. I grabbed the start line rope and floated until the starter gave us the go signal, then I was off.

One of the first waves heading out

Almost immediately, I felt like something was wrong. I wasn’t more than 30 seconds into it and I felt absolutely awful. I thought I might be getting sick. Was I even moving? I couldn’t really tell. My line was way off, too, and I kept veering to the right. I tried to focus on my technique and things got a little better. I decided that whatever I was feeling, it wasn’t getting any worse, so I would just push through it. I had done enough swim training to know that I wouldn’t suddenly drown or anything, especially while wearing a buoyant wetsuit. The worst case was that my arm strength would just give out, and it hadn’t yet. So there was no reason to stop. On I went.

About halfway through the loop, I started catching some people. I have no idea if they were in my wave or the wave before mine, or possibly the wave after mine, having gotten ahead of me at the start. I didn’t try to swim over anyone but I didn’t really seem them coming, either, so some contact was inevitable.

I hadn’t set a goal time for the swim, but from experience I expected something between 10-15 minutes in the back of my mind. When I finally stood up to exit, it felt like it had been twice that, but I figured realistically it was maybe 12 minutes.

I looked at my watch and saw an 8. Suddenly things made a little more sense. I had been going faster — much faster — than I thought. No wonder I felt like my chest was going to explode.

Official Swim Time: 8:49 (.3 mi) – 1:41/100 yd 7/32 in age group; 34/414 overall

T1

T1 sent us up a sandy path through the woods to the grassy area where the bikes were. There were wetsuit strippers waiting for us, which was awesome. I pulled my wetsuit down below my waist, slid into home on the tarp, and my suit was popped off before I even knew what was happening. I thanked the volunteers and headed to my bike.

About to get stripped

I had toyed a bit with leaving my shoes on my bike with rubber bands, but ultimately couldn’t really figure out how to do it so it worked properly, and I was worried about the rubber bands getting caught in my gears, so I decided to just put my shoes on in transition, run the bike out, and clip in. I certainly wasn’t going to try a flying mount, so this was a reasonable option for me. At the last second I grabbed my maple syrup bottle and slid it into my tri suit pocket.

Official T1 time: 3:13 – 91/414 overall

Bike

The bike route was very short, and very flat. I’d only done three previous races before this one, but this was the shortest and flattest by far. I had been doing a lot of mental gymnastics about the bike leg in the days leading up to the race, debating my approach. Overall, I wanted this race to be something of a practice session for my 70.3 — transition logistics, using a wetsuit, etc. I thought about also extending that to pacing, to practice the mental and emotional control required to slow myself down at the start of the bike leg so that I would be able to hold the right pace throughout, and then have enough left over for the run. But as soon as I was clipped in, that decision was made. It was go time.

Because I didn’t have any pacing or power targets, I ended up watching my heart rate most of all while out on the course, followed by my speed. My heart rate was shockingly high compared to the levels I was used to seeing during my training, which is predominantly spent in zone 2. But I knew that wasn’t necessarily a problem. The race was short enough that I could work at or above threshold for the whole thing. They call it a sprint for a reason, after all.

The other fun thing about a sprint is that passing someone on the bike leg is usually permanent. In a longer race, it can often be just the first of two meetings, the second of which being when they come back and smoke you on the run. But in a sprint, they are more likely to run out of road if you go full throttle on the bike. Since it was a wave start, I knew that passing people was not an entirely accurate representation of my place in the field. But it was motivating anyway. So I reeled in as many people as I could, and made sure that nobody passed me. The best part was passing those $6,000 tri bikes on my gravel bike with regular old drop bars.

As it turned out, I was glad to have my maple syrup on board. I took a couple hits, one partway through and one just before T2. It felt helpful, and made me realize that I would probably need more fuel than I had been thinking during my longer race in July.

The bike course covered, I had a clean dismount just at the line, and ran my bike in to the transition area again.

Official Bike Time: 25:45 (9.6 mi) – 22.4/mph 4/32 in age group; 18/414 overall

T2

T2 was my slowest performance on the day, relative to the field. I didn’t deliberately go slow, but I wasn’t rushing, either. I’m pretty particular about how my shoe lace-up feels, and that combined with the socks I use (which are not super easy to get on) probably accounted for my slow time. But I made it out on the run with everything I needed and feeling pretty good, so I wasn’t too worried about blitzing through T2.

Official time: 1:51 – 313/414 overall

Run

I expected to be running fast out of transition, having experienced that phenomenon before. Adrenaline is high and you are excited to just get going, and before you know it you’re running way faster than you expected. I checked my watch after a couple hundred yards and saw I was running close to 7:30 min/mi, which is very fast for me. For reference, I ran all of my sprints last year at around 9:00 min/mi. My first reaction was to feel like I needed to back off, slow down and find a more conservative pace, but then I remembered it was only 3.1 miles. I was able to hold a strong pace through the swim and bike, why not the run? Might as well go for it, and see how long I could hold it before I slowed down. The worst case was that my pace would slow for the back half of the race, but I knew I would finish no matter what. Go time continued.

I focused on my cadence through most of the run, trying to keep the rhythm even and high. That seems to be my key to running fast (such that “fast” is, for me), when I need to. If I think about ‘running fast,’ it’s harder to do, but if I just focus on my cadence, it’s easier for some reason.

The run was also a very flat course, with only a couple slight inclines, when my pace dipped closer to 8:00 min/mi. I was able to hold my cadence pretty well throughout. Two or three people passed me, including a 60+ year old woman and a kid, wearing the race t-shirt. Sigh. But overall I held my pace and I felt strong throughout.

By the time the last half-mile came around, I was starting to feel it, particularly in my hips and my abdominals. I was definitely on the edge, pushing to maintain the pace. There wasn’t much of anything left for a late surge, all I could do was hold what I had through the chute and over the finish line.

Official Run Time: 24:19 (3.1 mi) – 7:50/mi 11/32 in age group; 65/414 overall

Overall Results: Time: 1:03:55 5/32 in age group; 34/219 by gender; 36/414 overall

Post Race & Summary

The race venue had a lot of activities for kids, which was great for when my family arrived. There were at least three bouncy houses, plus a clown making balloon animals, and kid-friendly food. The food was great, and there was tons of it, all of it free as far as I could tell, at least for racers. It wasn’t just bananas and bagels, there was an entire sandwich buffet, flatbread pizza, Italian ice, all kinds of things. The only real negatives for me about the race organization and venue were parking and the lack of a professional race photographer (there were only official volunteers, who took substandard photos and whose coverage was incomplete). Otherwise, it was a well-organized and fun race on a decent course.

As far as my performance goes, I came away a little surprised and with a lot to think about. I had definitely underestimated my potential in the water and on the run. I really didn’t have any idea that I could swim or run that fast over any distance. Almost immediately, I started thinking ahead to July, and trying to sort out what that means for my 70.3. Obviously I won’t be racing at these speeds at that distance. But my personal bar has been raised, there’s no getting around that. Now I have the task of handling that knowledge without it infiltrating my head in a negative way. Expectations for a race are not usually helpful.

I tried to examine whether I could have gone any faster, any harder, improved in any area in order to jump to the 1st-3rd place podium from my 5th place spot. I would have had to be about 6 mins faster to do that. Certainly I was maxed on the swim. I don’t think I was at maximum capacity on the bike, but I was fairly close. The run didn’t have a whole lot of room to give, either. When I look at the actual times between 5th (me) and 3rd, here’s what I find:

PlaceSwimT1BikeT2RunTotal3rd8:202:2525:390:3521:0958:065th (me)8:493:1325:561:5124:191:03:55Difference:0:290:480:171:163:105:49

Clearly the majority of time lost was on the run. That isn’t surprising to me, since I’ve never been a fast runner. But I’m encouraged, because I’m way faster than I used to be. The next biggest deficit was T2, followed relatively closely by T1. The differences on the swim and the bike combined could be easily surmounted by improving just my transitions alone. Or I could have pushed a bit harder on the climbs (such as they were) on the bike and probably wiped out a lot of that time. But most of the improvement work to be done is clearly in my run.

Is this a microcosm of what I can expect at longer distance? It will be interesting to see how the ratios play out there. I’d also be interested in comparing these relative results to my results from last year’s sprints. That is, how much slower — relative to the field — was I in transition vs. the bike leg, or run leg. Maybe that will be a good subject for a future post. You can’t compare races 1:1, but I think you can get a sense of how the relative balance of everything plays out, and what that means for your skill set and fitness level. If nothing else, it’s an interesting diversion.

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[aliveprofessor]

Don’t Be Afraid Of The Dark

rating: M

word count: 11742

archive warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

personal warnings: Minor character death, demons, knives. Stay safe and don’t read if you have troubles with these things!

description: Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej - full-time independent ghost hunters. But when they happen upon a small town and unleash like, actual, literal Hell upon it, their lives won't be the only ones changed.

There's more cliches, too. Don't worry about that.

A/N: LISTEN i know this is super super long but let me just thank @lesbiancleophas​, @thepossessionofshanemadej​, and @crappylittledemon​ for betaing this!!! without y'all this would pretty much be illegible, thank u for making my dumb brain words entertaining <3

READ IT ON AO3!

You got me running like a spider in a bathtub.

Andrew had not wanted to start his morning with strangers in his town. He watched from the loading dock in the hayloft, Riceball in his arms. The farm was sprawled out behind him, his house just to the left of the barn. An unpaved road stretched on for a few miles before turning into the main road into town. Andrew liked his little vantage point, away from everything, but seeing people turn onto the road that led to their house, and then turn and go back into town, was unsettling.

  “I don’t like this, Rice,” he frowned. “I don’t like this at all.”

  Eventually, Steven figured out where his recluse of a boyfriend had holed up. He called from the ground outside.

  “They’re just strangers, Drew! They don’t bite!”

  Andrew pouted, but made his way down the stairs. Steven greeted him with the same sunshine smile that Andrew had fallen in love with, and maybe - don’t tell Steven, though - Andrew fell even more in love than before.

  Steven scratched Riceball’s cheeks and cooed to him, and Ragdoll let out a small chirp.

  “I love you.”

  The words escaped Andrew’s lips before he could stop himself; it was the first time he’d ever said them out loud.

  Maybe it was just because he was up so early and he thought them so hard that they exploded out into the brisk air without his permission - but whatever the reason, they were out there.

  “ Oh ,” Steven said, beaming. He kissed Andrew hard, Riceball scratching Steven on her way out of Andrew’s embrace. Andrew smiled into the kiss, bringing Steven closer.

  “For the record - I love you too,” Steven murmured. “I know how hard that was for you, and I appreciate you in my life so, so much -”

  “Just shut up and keep kissing me before I have to talk to the shmucks that showed up today,” Andrew interrupted, and Steven was glad to oblige.

  The sound of engines made their inevitable appearance in the driveway, and Steven stilled, hand on Andrew’s chest.

  Steven patted him, glancing down at his well-fitted shirt. “Another time,” he said, convincing himself as much as he was Andrew.

  A two-door jeep rounded the corner of the winding dirt road that led to the barn, and two men hopped out of the front seats. Another pushed the passenger’s seat forward and unfolded himself from the back.

  Steven greeted them, hand outstretched. “How can I be of service to you gentlemen?”

  The taller one - and that was an understatement - grinned. “I hear you got ghosts?”

  The other man was about Andrew’s height, with black hair and wide eyes. He smacked his companion’s shoulder.

  “Shane. We just met them. Chill.”

  He turned to Steven. “Sorry about my partner. He’s a bit forward. I’m Ryan, this is Shane. We have a YouTube series where we hunt ghosts. We’ve heard a lot of stories about your barn.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Steven sucked in a breath. “... The barn.”

 Andrew turned to introduce them to the building - and God, it could not have been creepier if there had been a storm and a clap of lightning and thunder. The wood was starting to rot, vines crawled up the sides of the building and seemed to move on their own, and the shadows inside seemed too dark, too cold. The paint had faded to brown - dusty and dark, and in different spots the paint peeled to reveal the original wood. The whole thing felt so off from the rest of the farm, which was teeming with life. The barn just reeked of death.

  It had taken Andrew forever to warm up to the barn, and he was still uneasy in certain spots. It wasn’t like it was falling apart, but it creaked all the time, and doors closed and opened on their own - and sometimes, Andrew heard a voice or saw shadows.

  For a while, Steven had been worried about Andrew’s mental health - which, if someone seemed like they might be hallucinating, was fair. But then Steven began to see the same things Andrew did. The worst part was that they weren’t rare occurrences. Almost every other week, there would be a minor incident.

  By the time their first six months had been up, they’d sort of gotten used to it.

  But only sort of.

  “So…” Steven prompted, waiting for Shane or Ryan to finish.  “We want to film some; investigate some,” he said, smiling hopefully. “Maybe… stay the night in the barn?”

  Steven glanced to Andrew, shrugging. Andrew shook his head. He just met these people - he didn’t want them in his barn.

  “Sure!” Steven said, through gritted teeth, shooting Andrew a pointed glare. “Would y’all like something to eat? There’s no activity in the house, but we could show you around and have you over for supper before the sun goes down.”

  “That sounds super !” Shane exclaimed, looking incredibly pleased, “Ryan, do you want to get some shots of the barn?” He looked to Andrew, who nodded his ascent; and the pair took off excitedly.

  Once they were out of sight, Andrew pulled Steven aside, hissing. “Why would you let them stay in our barn ? I work there!”

  “I work there too, sweetheart,” Steven rolled his eyes, “They seem like nice guys. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you sleep on the couch with your pocket knife.”

  Andrew frowned, but didn’t feel like arguing any longer. “Alright. But they only stay the night. I want them gone before noon tomorrow.”

  Steven nodded, pecking Andrew on the cheek. “I really do love you. I’m sorry I invited two strangers into our house.”

  “That southern hospitality is really starting to get to you,” Andrew chided, thumbs rubbing circles into Steven’s arm. “It’s okay - I’m just a grumpy asshole.”

  “But you’re my grumpy asshole, and I love you,” Steven said, the emotion in his eyes melting Andrew from the inside out. Andrew cupped Steven’s face and brought him in for another kiss.

  Andrew broke apart and as the sun peaked in the sky, he murmured, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  But Andrew and Steven had work to do that day - watering the fields and working on their marketing. A surprising amount of their work was done online - creating an appealing website and making it their own, reaching out to farmer’s markets… it was a lot.

  At four, the two men - intruders, in Andrew’s mind - showed back up and knocked on the door. “Thank you so much for inviting us in for dinner,” Ryan said, grin wide on his face.

  As Steven let them into the house, Andrew finished up a nice little dinner for them - brisket, mac ‘n cheese, bitter greens, and lemonade. It was comfort food, mostly for Andrew’s benefit. He took the mac ‘n cheese out of the oven, setting it on a potholder on the table. Already on the table were the bitter greens and the brisket, which Andrew had roasted about an hour beforehand. He got out four cups and the pitcher of lemonade, and looked upon his masterpiece. It really did feel cathartic to cook like that again - he’d definitely put a bit of effort into how everything was arranged and it showed, and it was nice to have something to be proud of.

  Andrew hoped he could have a redo with Ryan and Shane; he’d been particularly standoffish that morning, and he didn’t really know why. He still didn’t feel very at ease , letting two strangers into his barn to spend the night, but usually he could pretend to be hospitable for a bit.

  He’d definitely take Steven up on that offer of sleeping on the couch with his knife.

  He smiled as the three men walked into the kitchen. Ryan and Shane had wanted to keep their shoes on, but Steven had them take them off. He was very particular about the carpet.

  Steven served the food, stranding Andrew out on small talk duty. “So… how did you hear about our farm?”

  “I think the previous owners messaged us… a year ago?” Ryan looked to Shane, who nodded, “I dunno, I didn’t realize the owners had been switched. I thought you’d be the Laupers, but obviously -”

  “We’re huge flaming homos?” Andrew joked, and Ryan wheezed out a laugh. “Yeah, I figured we don’t really fit the nuclear family aesthetic they left behind. Notice how this house feels like it crawled out of the fifties? So did they. Anyway, as far as I know, they’re retired in some RV park in Florida.”

  “Well, I’m glad we can still do the episode,” Shane grinned, “Our viewers can get pretty aggravated if we don’t have the season ready on time”

  “Our lateness is kind of a meme, really,” Ryan laughed, sharing a lingering gaze with Shane. Andrew raised an eyebrow at Steven in a silent question. Andrew took off his apron and oven mitts and took his own seat, digging into the food he’d waited so long to eat.

  Everyone else seemed to take that as the cue to eat. “This is really fucking good,” Ryan said through a mouthful of bitter greens.

  Shane gently smacked his arm. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” He said, with his mouth full. Ryan swallowed and stuck his tongue out at Shane, leaving Andrew and Steven in hysterics. He could see why their show was popular - they were hilarious to watch, their chemistry was electric and witty and it sucked you right in. They chatted all evening, the sun fading at eight.

  “You’re absolutely positive you’re fine with this?” Ryan said hesitantly as Steven led him and Shane to the barn. Steven assured them, and Andrew watched from the porch. He frowned into the distance, a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

  He shrugged it off, going back inside and doing the dishes, trying to work off his lingering anxiety. By the time he was done with the dishes, his hands were trembling and his heart was racing. He hadn’t felt that bad since… well, he didn’t like to talk about it. Steven found him leaning against the soapy counter, getting his shirt wet, trying to breathe and calm down.

  Steven took Andrew’s hands in his own. “It’s gonna be okay, Drew. They’re good people. I made sure all the windows were locked.”

  Andrew nodded, throat tight. Steven kissed him gently, prying him off the counter and making him go lie down so he could finish the dishes. Amidst Andrew’s protests, Steven managed to shoo him off. Andrew was grateful for a dark room, really, he was. But the anxiety still lingered in his chest.

  He held Steven close that night.

  .o0o.

  Ryan Steven Bergara had not been expecting to see a gay couple canoodling on the driveway when he pulled into the Laupers’ residence. He’d been up since four that morning, so everything about Steven and Andrew had startled him. The barn had startled him more.

  Steven relayed the stories of the barn and, unfortunately, Ryan soaked it all up. He wondered how the Laupers lived there for so long - and Shane rebutted in his usual style.

  “Because ghost aren’t real , Ryan,” He rolled his eyes, “And, anyway, old people are crazy.”

  “And you’re an asshole,” Ryan nudged Shane harshly with his shoulder, “C’mon, let’s wander for the rest of the day. I’ve heard some pretty wild stories about this town.”

  And so, they walked around the rest of the day, vlogging camera in hand, just talking about the town’s odd history.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Shane’s brow was furrowed as they sat on a bench after stopping for ice cream, “This town was founded by a serial killer, has allegedly housed Jesse James, has had a ripe history of occultists, and has had an almost record-shattering number of homicides and suicides per capita.”

  “Well, I think if there’s any place that’ll get you to concede that ghosts are real, it’s here,” Ryan said, leaning back on the bench. Around them, people played, seemingly unaware of the town’s past. “And, anyway, that barn gave me the heebie jeebies and it was like, nine in the morning when we saw it.”

  “I will admit that something about that barn made me anxious,” Shane frowned, “But then again, it does appear to have never been touched since nineteen seventy-nine.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Just eat your ice cream, longlegs.”

  Ryan turned off the camera, relaxing a bit and biting some of the chocolate shell off his ice cream. Shane, seemingly immune to anything that afflicts human beings, ate his ice cream without regard for his teeth or brain. Ryan was appalled. “I can’t believe you. Where should we get lunch? I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

  Shane let out an indecisive noise, eyes darting around main street. “The barbeque place smelled good.”

  Ryan nodded, taking a minute to finish his ice cream before walking with Shane to “ Habersburger ”. There was a woman at the register, a lovely looking brunette with a smile that lit up the room. Around the room was a bar, several tables and booths, and a small stage.

  “Howdy!” The woman at the register asked. People laughed uproariously from a nearby table. “My name’s Becky, and the giraffe taking orders today is my fiance, Keith. What can I do for you?”

  “Table for two, please,” Ryan smiled back to the beam of sunshine that inhabited the town. Becky seated them near a window.

  She passed out the menus. “So how long have y’all been together?”

  Shane had this weird little smile on his face as Ryan spluttered. “We’re not together - just friends.”

  “And you’re not out with anyone else on such a beautiful day?”

  What was she trying to prove? Ryan thought as Shane spoke again.

  “We’re filming for our show. We’re going ghost hunting at Ilnyckyj’s.”

  Becky nodded, seemingly convinced. “Ah. Keith will be right with you darlings.”

  Ryan thought the town was doing well for one with such a dismal history. He played footsie for a while with Shane under the table while he scrolled on his phone. Eventually, a tall blond man with another radiant smile showed up at the table.

  “Your gorgeous waiter today is Keith,” He introduced himself, “Try not to fall in love.”

  Ryan and Shane both were in stitches by the time Keith left, and the food was delicious, too.

  “How can such an amazing place exist in such a small town?” Ryan asked, stirring his Sprite, full and happy. A band had gotten up on stage and was playing, sweet bluegrass pouring out the front door.

  Of course, Ryan thought the bluegrass music was sweet until he really stopped to listen . Songs about death, of people… killing their husbands. Pleasant.

  “What the fuck is wrong with this music?” Ryan whispered to Shane as four men sang in beautiful harmony. The bass player, fiddler, banjo player, and lead vocalist all seemed perfectly at peace singing about a “river of death”.

  “I dunno,” Shane said, “I think it’s kinda pretty.”

  “Of course you do. Let’s get out of here and sightsee.”

  “Goin’ so soon?” Keith pouted, arms overflowing with plates. “Well, at least let me recommend you the Museum Of Angels - it’s about our town’s history. Very cool. Right up your alley, I think.”

  And with that, Keith was gone. Ryan shrugged to Shane, who just shrugged back. And they set out on their next endeavor.

  The Museum Of Angels - complete with a ghost tour - sat on the outskirts of town. It looked much smaller on the outside than it was in reality, halls full of history set before Ryan.

  He and Shane spent hours absorbed in the museum, a time capsule of the murders and plagues and cults and natural disasters of the town.

  And sure, Ryan got some good shots in, but nobody could capture the look on Shane’s face when he was truly absorbed in something. Maybe Shane didn’t agree with the ghost part of the museum’s message, but he read every body of text in that museum. Ryan certainly could feel something stirring in his chest - a long-dead crush that seemed to resurrect itself at random. Ryan figured that’s what you get for repressing something that deeply - but little twinges of affection were so much better than hopelessly pining after someone who was almost certainly straight.

  Ryan could barely figure himself out, anyway - how could he begin to figure out Shane?

  With the bitterness now scratching at his throat, Ryan gathered himself and coughed a bit. “Let’s get going soon, Shane, it’s almost four.”

  “We’ve spent three hours here?” Shane asked, still absorbed in some paragraph about a mother who’d drowned her husband and two children, “Wow - that’s - man . Can we come back here sometime?”

  “‘Course,” Ryan said, voice almost breaking in trying not to speak too softly to Shane. He wanted so desperately to hold his hand and say I love you because - oh God - he loved Shane.

  He loved Shane; he loved his asshole attitude and his freaky long legs and his love of history and his humor and his kindness that was just below the surface. Ryan loved Shane and maybe in the middle of a museum about death wasn’t the ideal place to realize it but it happened and Ryan needed a minute but he couldn’t take it and he couldn’t breathe .

  Ryan kept walking. Eventually his heart calmed down and his face returned to normal Tennessee sweatiness instead of furious blushing. Ryan walked with Shane back to their Jeep, all the equipment still in back, and Shane set off to Steven’s again. The wind still whipped Ryan’s hair around and maybe he was enjoying it immensely and maybe he felt a little free when he rode in the Jeep and maybe it was the best fucking feeling in the world and maybe Ryan was starting to realize how close it was to when Shane smiled at him.

  The Jeep pulled up to the barn again and Ryan spent the walk to the door pushing his feelings somewhere the sun didn’t shine.

  .o0o.

  After dinner, Shane and Ryan were to stay the night in the barn. Shane felt his apprehension return. Even after Steven had assured them that the hay loft was perfectly fine - they didn’t even have hay up there - Shane would’ve felt much better sleeping on the ground. As much as he hated to admit it, there was just something that creeped him out about the barn. And usually, he could chalk it up to disgust; there was just something so fitting about the word creep that it stuck in Shane’s brain like glue to paper. It felt like he was being followed. It sucked.

  “This place sucks ,” Ryan hissed as soon as they got into the ancient structure, the empty stalls echoing Ryan’s sentiment back to him. Shane saw the camera out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t reply. Something about Ryan’s statement rang too true.

  Shane gritted his metaphorical teeth. “I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Oh, just like you always do, gigantor,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “So - can we get past the part where you taunt the demons and get to the part where we try to sleep and I don’t?”

  “Why don’t I let you have a minute alone, first?” Shane grinned, “The most of the activity is reportedly from the quarantine stable, where they kept the sick horses. Why don’t you go stand there for a few minutes with your spirit box or whatever?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ryan nodded, grabbing the spirit box and walking into the quarantine stable. Shane saw him take a deep breath and collect himself, and then he shut the door behind him.

  And suddenly, Shane was left alone in the darkness with nothing but his own thoughts. And for some reason, his thoughts never strayed from Ryan.

  Ryan , with his gorgeous smile and beautiful laugh and soft hair and - Shane wondered how starry-eyed he could get. He smiled softly as he heard Ryan faintly from the closed door.

  Ryan was the bravest person Shane would ever know; he was certain of it. His thoughts were so full of Ryan, Ryan, Ryan , that he barely heard Ryan creep out of the stall.

  “All finished,” He said, weary, “I think I heard a few things, but nothing huge.”

  Shane nodded. “I guess that makes it my turn.”

  Shane walked into the stable and as soon as the door was closed, the room dropped ten degrees. Must be a weird night with the windchill , he thought to himself.

  “Hey demons!” Shane called, “De-mons! De-e-e-e-e-mons! Got anything for me tonight, spooky boys? Got anything for an old pal? Remember when I took the Goatman’s bridge? That’s mine now! And this is gonna be my barn, too!”

  And that’s when Shane heard it - a chuckle. The low battery light on his camera blinked (he needed new ones when he’d replaced them ten minutes ago?). The chuckle only grew louder when Shane tried the door handle and it didn’t work.

  Shane found himself panicking, throwing his body against the door to get it open. As if it were only stuck, it eventually gave way and Shane was thrown from the room, eyes wide and chest heaving.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Ryan asked, reaching for Shane in the darkness. Shane brushed him off, closing himself in. His camera died, beeping loudly before shutting off.

  “I heard something. It was probably just the wind, though,” Shane shook his head, “Oh well - I need new batteries. We’ll have to check the footage in the morning.”

  “I always bring them for demon episodes,” Ryan smiled, handing over a few. Shane exchanged them, grateful when the camera blinked to life. By the time his camera was back online, the feeling of terror had dissipated. Shane could only hope it wouldn’t come back.

  “Well, now that we’ve gone over everything, I think it’s time for us to get some sleep,” Ryan said, nodding to Shane. He still wore a look of concern on his face.

  Shane shook his head minutely, an I’m fine that only Ryan could pick up on, “If you can call it sleep. You’ll keep me up all night with your panicking.”

  Ryan shook his head and laughed. “You asshole. Let’s go upstairs and lay out our sleeping bags.”

  And they did just that, without another word, both of them ever so thankful to share breaths with another human instead of the thing that resided in the corner of the room. Neither of them spoke about it, but they laid their sleeping bags far closer than they normally would.

  “I’m gonna feel like a real idiot listening to tapes of the wind howling tomorrow,” Shane murmured, trying to coax himself into sleep. He kept telling himself he was close to Ryan for Ryan’s comfort - but really, he just needed to be close to someone, to have something to convince himself that the noises in the night were just Ryan rolling over in his sleeping bag.

  .o0o.

  Eugene heard of two strange men that had arrived in town - hell, he’d seen their faces that same day. He heard of the same unsuredness that everyone had greeted Andrew and Steven with. Rumors that they were going to stir up ghosts… and, of course, other rumors. And, as per usual, he thought it was utter bullshit.

  So he maybe turned on the Southern Charm a little more than he usually would have. “Morning, gentlemen, what can I get for you?”

  Eugene ran a diner, a hole-in-the-wall place that made it by sheer force of will. Eugene’s mom and dad had both immigrated from Korea into a tiny town in Tennessee, for what reason Eugene could not fucking place, and they were - as new people often are - greeted with hostility. Eugene had grown up learning all the ways slurs could hurt aside equations. But now that his sisters had left, it was just him: a part of a tiny, insignificant town. Seeing outsiders was rare; seeing outsiders who looked like they’d run a marathon and fought an army on their own was… worrying, to say the least.

  The shorter one had ruffled hair and bloodshot eyes, and the other had eye bags the size of a small dog, and they both looked like they hadn’t changed clothes, like a walk of shame but without the fun part. Eugene thought it best not to ask.

  “Chocolate chip pancakes,” The taller one requested, and the shorter motioned for the same thing. Eugene smiled and told them their order would be right out, yelling to Quinta. Eugene served them some warm milk too. It was his true belief that there was nothing like warm milk for a heavy soul.

  “We didn’t order this,” The shorter said, gesturing to the milk.

  Eugene winked. “It’s on the house. You look stressed.”

  “Thank you,” The taller said, “You have no idea how rough last night was.”

  The shorter  nodded. “Seriously, thanks. I’m Ryan, this is Shane, we’re… new, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Eugene grinned. “Not a problem! Nice to meet y’all.”

  Eugene went back behind the register and eavesdropped a little.

  “Hey, dude, are you okay?” Shane asked, “You probably didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  Ryan yawned before he replied, proving Shane’s statement. “Nah, ‘m fine, promise.”

  Quinta finished with the pancakes not long after. Eugene looked outside to see a storm beginning to roll in. “Huh - didn’t see that in the forecast.”

  Ryan and Shane exchanged a glance, and Eugene thought maybe there was more to them than met the eye.

  “These pancakes are so fucking good,” Ryan sighed, way too loudly, “Oh - shit - sorry! Wait - fuck -”

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Quinta said through laughter, “There ain’t nobody here but us.”

  “What fucking time is it anyway?” Eugene wondered, mostly to himself. He checked the clock. “What kind of people wait until after nine thirty to eat breakfast?”

  Another look was shared between Ryan and Shane. “Hey, dude, we’re sorry, but - uhh...”

  “What have you two done?” Eugene asked, feeling a pang of something in his chest. It wasn’t panic, just a… knowing .

  Ryan gulped. “I have a feeling it’s a lot worse than we originally thought.”

  .o0o.

  “Shane - I think we need to get out of here. Soon,” Ryan said as they walked to the Jeep. This time, Shane was in the passenger’s seat, and Ryan was driving.

  “But - listen, Ryan,” Shane pleaded, “I still haven’t finished reading what was in the museum. Please , man, just for one more day? I’ll let you take me on the ghost tour too once the weather clears up.”

  “Fuck you,” Ryan sighed, nodding. They booked a motel with Shane’s debit card, and Shane grinned when Ryan flopped down onto the bed. Luckily, they weren’t in danger of running out of clothes or money any time soon.

  Ryan hoped the rain would stop soon.

  .o0o.

  Steven felt the cold presence of Andrew somehow taken away from him. It was fucking awful - and it was only ten in the morning. It had been a long time coming - Andrew had been distant for a whole day, ever since Ryan and Shane had stayed the night in the barn. Steven had woken up to an empty bed that morning.

  “Babe?” Steven asked after he found him, peering down at his boyfriend  curled up on the couch with the cat. Guilt and anger and insecurity were already starting to rise in his chest. He knew he was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it.

  Andrew stared into the distance, something that made Steven incredibly uneasy. “Not in the mood, Steven.”

  “Not in the mood for… what?” Steven asked, throat going dry.

  Andrew sat up. “I’m not in the mood for you , Steven. Try again some other time.”

  Steven felt tears in his eyes. “You can’t just not be in the mood for me, Drew! That’s not how relationships work!”

  “It kinda is - and don’t Drew me,” Andrew growled. Riceball, always the coward, had abandoned the couch and run to the bathroom, probably to hide in the sink.

  Something strange overcame him, and all the emotions he didn’t know he was bottling up came out at once. “Y’know, sometimes I don’t feel like I even have a boyfriend! Sometimes I feel like I just have a mannequin who sleeps on the couch all day and pets the cat!”

  “Yeah, well -” Andrew paused for a minute, “It’s not my fault you chose me! Because you did! You chose to be with me! And you can choose to stop.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been for the past few days,” Steven snapped, “But I think Ryan and Shane took a part of you with them. I miss my Drew.”

  “He’s gone, Steven!” Andrew raised his voice, exploding off the couch. “He’s gone - and I’m here.”

  And Andrew’s eyes flicked to black.

  Steven didn’t know how to process what he saw - but there was a part of his brain that was so, so relieved that Andrew wasn’t Andrew. Once he was done being relieved, though, he was terrified.

  “I can hear you thinking,” The demon said, “And I am still some of Andrew. I’m all the parts of him he was afraid to voice before. You know he’s been depressed for years, right? And he never told you. He’d been in all this pain, and you still weren’t trustworthy enough for him to go to.”

  The tears made a forceful return to Steven’s eyes. “That’s a lie! I - I know what it’s like to go through that shit and it’s hard to voice to anyone , even people you’re close to, and -”

  “And he’s not really in love with you,” The demon hissed, “He pities you, he lusts after you - but he’s never really loved you.”

  The color drained from Steven’s face. “He - he -”

  “It’s the truth,” The demon stepped closer to Steven, cupping his face far too gently, “Andrew promised himself to me just to be rid of you.”

  Steven sobbed, trying to flee the house. He made it to the front door and tried the doorknob. It was locked - or, or kept shut or something. Steven whirled around to see some warped version of Andrew’s face, not quite there. Steven’s chest shuddered and his stomach churned and darkness was encroaching the sides of his vision and God , he was going to pass out.

  “I don’t want you gone, I want you with me. Swear yourself to me, darling” The demon purred, “Aw - don’t worry, I can give you a good life in Hell. You’ll be my little pet, pretty thing.” He stroked Steven’s cheek, and Steven pressed himself so hard into the door it hurt.

  He thought, coming to his own conclusion in a matter of seconds. He just needed to know one thing. He forced himself to look the demon in the eyes, and he rasped out, “Will Drew be happy?”

  “I guarantee it,” the demon nodded. “So? What do you say?”

  “I’ll do it,” Steven decided, “Shake on it?”

  Without speaking, the demon grabbed Steven’s face and kissed it, and it burned the image of Not-Quite-Andrew’s face into Steven’s brain. He was gasping for air and no matter how much he struggled, the abyss on the edge of his vision sped closer and closer. Everything felt so… final. Like the sound of a bass drum at the end of a song.

  As his vision faded and his knees gave out, he thought that death like this was a lot more peaceful than someone going to Hell deserved.

  .o0o.

  Shane woke up to a knock on the door. Eugene was there, looking outraged. Shane wished they hadn’t decided to stay in town for a few days just to wait for the stupid ghost tour to start up again.

  “The demon was your fault, right?” Eugene asked, “This… this is all your fault, right?”

  Ryan stirred from his bed, and Shane realized how beat-up Eugene looked. There were cuts littering his knuckles and fingers, and he was in his pajamas and sandals. He looked like he was about half a second away from blowing a fuse.

  Shane spoke, awake enough now to regret not putting anything on over his boxers or changing out of his ratty t-shirt. “I’m sorry if anything happened -”

  “You’re sorry if anything happened? Someone robbed my fucking diner!” Eugene shouted, “I might have to close!”

  “Oh shit,” Ryan said from the other side of the room, stumbling around blindly before finding his glasses and joining Shane at the door, “Dude, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Unfortunately I’m not dead or healthy enough to tear you both a new one,” He growled, “But you two are fixing this. Now .”

  “Well, jeez,” Ryan held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, we’ll fix it.”

  Eugene relaxed a bit, letting out a breath. “Thank you.”

  Eugene’s phone rang, and he picked it up. He gasped, rushing out of the building, leaving Shane and Ryan to stare at the empty space on the concrete outside of their motel as the rain continued to pour and pour and pour.

  Shane turned to Ryan. “I guess this means we need to do some research?”

  Ryan nodded, grabbing Shane’s laptop. They closed the door, leaving it unlocked just in case.

  Hours later, and there were so many sources giving different information that Ryan didn't know which way was forward any more. Salt and holy water and repentance all seemed to be common threads, though.

  Suddenly, Eugene came crashing into their motel room with a stranger, who was covered in a leather jacket, soaking wet, and shivering.

  “This is Ned, and he will be staying with you,” Eugene said in a voice that didn’t leave room for negotiation, “He’s momentarily kicked out because of the demon. Deal with it.”

  And then Eugene was gone again, and Ned was looking terrified. “I’m - I - I’m sorry -”

  “Dude, it’s okay,” Ryan soothed, “Do you want a towel? We’re probably pretty close in size, I can lend you some of my clothes while yours dry.”

  Ned nodded, silent. He stayed silent for the rest of the night, sitting in the corner and staring blankly at the wall. Ryan and Shane worked on putting together a viable plan for chasing the demons out of town.

  Ned stood up, suddenly, as if he realized where he was. “What’s all this about demons?”

  “It’s - uh - kinda my fault,” Shane admitted, “I provoked demons - or, just a demon, I think. It’s my shtick on this show Ryan and I do and I guess this time they were just… real? I dunno, this is all a lot for me.”

  “He didn’t believe in ghosts before this,” Ryan said, “And I guess now the evidence is just -”

  “This is too much to be a coincidence,” Shane conceded, “And while I was in the barn - I saw stuff, heard stuff, felt stuff. It’s - I guess it’s real this time.”

  “I was gonna say compelling, but I guess that works too,” Ryan sang, allowing himself to gloat, and turning back to Ned afterwards, “Anyway, we’re going to chase it out. Do you happen to know a priest?”

  .o0o.

  Eugene paced. When he was anxious, he paced, and now there was all this supernatural bullshit on top of everything else. Ned was in serious danger, and he could feel that several others were too. He felt like he needed to rescue someone, like something horrible was going to happen.

  And he’d had a nightmare. He’d dreamed that he was in Andrew’s barn, staring at a shadow that looked down on him, unblinking and seeing everything in his soul like there was nothing to stop it. But there was something stopping it from attacking - a hand was on his, a comfort amidst the darkness. His chest felt tight, though, like he couldn’t breathe. The thing looked at him, and he felt so deeply afraid that he could feel his heart beating irregularly.

  He could see the barn in clear detail, even in the darkness. He could see strands of hay, the railing that marked the beginning of the stairs, the crescent moon outside the loft. The only thing he couldn’t seem to do was move.

  The shadow struggled against whatever was holding it back, and seemed to disappear. Eugene could tell, though, that it wasn’t really gone.

  So he looked to the hand. It had long fingers and it was a little cold but that was okay because Eugene’s hands were warm. Of course, it didn’t occur to Eugene that, in reality, his hands were always freezing. It made sense in the dream, when Shane’s palm squeezed around his and made him feel like he’d make it through the night.

  Eugene woke up and, for a minute, he could’ve sworn he had Steven’s name on the tip of his tongue - but he couldn’t figure out why.

  .o0o.

  Ryan and Shane approached the barn again, the emptiness of it amplified in the rain. There were noises coming from the house, something that sounded like the howling of wind, but too unearthly, and too vivid for something so far away.

  Despite his best efforts, Ryan felt horrible for neglecting to warn Steven and Andrew. He just… hadn’t been able to find them. He couldn’t find their phone numbers, and they hadn’t replied to their emails, and they’d lost the directions to their place until Eugene could give them the directions. Ryan took comfort in the fact that at least he wouldn’t have to say the words “I’m sorry for raising a demon in your barn” any time soon, according to Eugene.

  Ryan struggled against the rain, holy water in hand. It felt like a security blanket to have, even though Ryan was still anxious about it not working or becoming too diluted in the rain and even as his shirt was soaked and he grew cold to the bone. Shane stood beside him, clearly just as terrified as he was.

  “Remember, don’t let it get to you,” Shane yelled over the booming thunder, “This is only as dangerous as your mind makes it out to be.”

  Ryan honestly didn’t know what to expect - there was so much conflicting information that it terrified him to think of what was behind the door. And then he heard Andrew scream out.

  Ryan crashed through the door, vial of holy water raised, to find Steven holding a knife to Andrew’s neck. “One more step and your blood won’t be the only blood spilled tonight.”

  Steven’s eyes were jet black - but that was an understatement. Steven’s eyes were like negative mass, so empty they beckoned Ryan in a way that felt inevitable.

  “Soon,” The demon crowed, “Soon, soon, soon, my brothers and sisters will arrive, and we will make this town so full of sin it rots from the inside out.”

  Andrew looked petrified, tear tracks on his face. His chest heaved.

  “Get out of my friend!” Ryan cried, rushing the demon and throwing holy water onto it.

  And then, silence fell over the room, and everything slowed down. The demon laughed, pushing Andrew aside, letting him crumple to the floor like a ragdoll.

  Shane rushed to his side.

  “You’re a complete idiot, Ryan Steven Bergara,” The demon’s use of Ryan’s full name sent a horrible chill down his spine. “Did you really believe that old superstition?”

  “It’s not - not a superstition,” Ryan’s eyes widened. “And anyway, I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You sure seem afraid.” The demon grinned, smile contorted and wide, “Are you afraid of me, Ryan?”

  “No!” Ryan said, heart hammering in his chest. Shane and Andrew looked on, completely forgotten.

  The demon narrowed its eyes, hand on Ryan’s chest. “Then why don’t you prove it?”

  Ryan swung his fist at Steven’s face, connecting solidly with his skull. The noise of Ryan’s knuckles cracking against Steven’s head rang out into the dead silent room. The demon blinked back, brown irises flickering in and out of focus.

  “Ow - holy shit!” Steven nearly screamed, gripping his head with his hands and sinking to the floor. His eyes bulged and he trembled.

  Ryan dropped to his knees in front of him. “Dude I’m so fucking sorry - are you okay? Holy shit -”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Steven cried, pressing into his temples and whimpering. Andrew scrambled over, tackling him in a hug.

  “I thought I lost you.”

  “I thought I said shut up,” Steven groaned, curling up tightly in his arms. Andrew kissed his hair, pulling him close.

  The scene was tense, Shane moving to check Ryan’s knuckles, which had started to throb. Shane’s eyes met Ryan’s and for a moment, the danger had passed. Lightning caused the lights to flicker, and Shane swore, disappointed.

  Ryan let Shane hold him, let him rock back and forth on his heels, let the energy heal. He gripped his injured hand in his whole one.

  Slowly, Steven uncurled and let out a long breath.

  “I love you, baby,” Andrew said quietly, choked up. Ryan’s heart ached, a knife in his chest cavity because he could only imagine what it would be like to be that with Shane. It was a quiet ache, though, background to the panic still residing in his chest.

  When Steven had enough of himself back to ask to be alone, Andrew patted Steven’s shoulder. “Thank you. You’re a brave man, Ryan.”

  Ryan looked to Andrew, finding the stony face he’d grown accustomed to looking back. “Of course. Thank you.”

  Ryan and Shane went back to the motel, leaving Andrew to put Steven back together.

  .o0o.

  Andrew cupped Steven’s face, kissing him softly. “I really did think I had lost you, baby. I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to fight off the demon, but he -”

  “Did you?” Steven asked, blinking up at the ceiling, “Because I heard otherwise.”

  Andrew seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the demon said you wanted to get rid of me!” Steven raised his voice, wincing as his headache came back, “That you pitied me and - and you didn’t trust me, and -”

  Steven sniffled and Andrew wanted to cry. “Steven, I - that’s not true. You know it’s not. I’ve never loved someone like I’ve loved you.”

  “The demon said you’d been depressed for a long time and never told me and I -”

  “That’s true,” Andrew muttered, “That part’s true. I just - I didn’t want you to worry. I wanted you to think I was being a lazy asshole and not to think I was just too empty to feel anything because -”

  “I did something horrible,” Steven realized, looking Andrew in the eye, “I thought the demon was telling the truth and I - I sold my soul to it, I think.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to be happy.”

  .o0o.

  Eugene held Ned as he shook. There was something small about his friend that Eugene hadn’t seen since he’d come out.

  “I…” Ned whispered, “My mom kicked me out. She told me she didn’t want a sinner in the house, Eugene.”

  “I’m sorry,” Eugene stroked Ned’s hair, rage flying through his chest. This wouldn’t have happened if Shane and Ryan had known their place. Something in Eugene told him it could only get worse before it got better, and Eugene was terrified of that feeling - especially since his feelings tended to be incredibly accurate as of late.

  Ned looked up to Eugene. “I want Ariel back.”

  “She’ll be back soon, and the demon will leave,” Eugene said, as though he were stating the end of a story he knew by heart. He hoped there was some weight to his statement. Ned took a deep breath collapsed onto one of the beds, staring up at the popcorn ceiling like it was full of stars.

  Eugene sat at the small table in the corner of Ryan and Shane’s room. They’d given him a key - said it would be a group effort. Eugene just wanted the demon gone so they could go too.

  “Wh - why are you two still here?” Shane asked impatiently when he and Ryan got back to the room. Ryan was nursing some sort of wound and, as Eugene noticed Shane was apt to do, Shane was treating it like a minor emergency.

  “We’re here until you fix this shit,” Eugene stated, “Quinta’s not here because her brother lives out of the city and she could get out.”

  Shane sighed. “Okay, but I need you to move so I can get to the sink.”

  Eugene obliged, moving from where he was leaning on the counter. Shane turned on the sink’s light, looking at Ryan’s hand. His knuckles looked bruised and a little swollen.

  “What did that brick wall do to you to deserve this?” Eugene joked, and Ryan looked at him with eyes so full of guilt and sadness that Eugene legitimately felt sorry for a minute. For a minute. And then he remembered that Ryan and Shane brought this upon themselves. Shane let Ryan tuck himself up against him as he checked Ryan’s hand, putting an ice pack on it.

  Shane didn’t step away, though. He just stood there, letting himself relax against Ryan’s body. “I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there.”

  “You thought…” Ryan looked up to him and, God , Eugene thought he was going to have to squish their heads together if they didn’t kiss soon. Shane was looking down at him with fear in his eyes. He really does love him , Eugene thought, glancing between their faces.

  They both said, wordlessly, “I love you.”

  Then, Ryan stood up on his toes and kissed Shane. Shane moved to cup his face, the kiss sweet and soft, and Eugene kinda wanted to barf. He was never a huge fan of kisses. He was a child of divorce, and all that.

  For someone who didn’t have a lot of faith in love, Eugene had a lot of faith in Ryan and Shane. He almost trusted them. Or, he wanted to - they were cute.

  Ned looked just as uncomfortable as Eugene felt. Shane turned to them when he realized they were still there, surprised. Eugene raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Oh, don’t stop on our account.” Eugene grinned, as Ned wolf-whistled.

  “I dunno, it seems like he’s enjoying the free show,” Shane said, nodding to Ned. Ryan, however, didn’t find the situation very funny.

  Ned laughed, and Ryan’s face only grew redder as he got more worked up.

  “I’m sorry, when you have any ideas on how to get rid of the demon that don’t include punching possessed people in the face, come talk to me,” Ryan narrowed his eyes at Ned. Everyone blinked at him, stunned into silence.

  “If I was wrong about the brick wall, who was it?” Asked Eugene, seeming vaguely intrigued by the concept.

  Ryan shook his head a bit, leaning into Shane. “Steven.”

  “You punched Steven ?” Ned’s mouth fell open, “Dude - that’s like, a capital offense in Andrew’s book. How are you still alive?”

  “I dunno,” Ryan laughed, “The fact that about thirty seconds prior he was threatening to kill him might’ve done it.”

  “God, you guys really did get close to dying,” Ned said, astonished, “I had no fucking clue.”

  “Generally, when people say they’re being attacked by demons, they aren’t kidding,” Shane interjected, “So - Eugene, you got any solutions yet?”

  Eugene thought on it a moment. “Actually, I think I do. A while ago, I had a dream. I think I was Ryan - I dunno. I was in a sleeping bag and Shane, you were curled up next to me and I couldn’t move and there was a demon standing right at my feet but I don’t think he could touch me -”

  “So… what are you saying?” Shane quirked an eyebrow at him. Ryan looked shocked for a minute, but he took Eugene’s dream in stride incredibly well.

  “That maybe, the key is love, or something,” Eugene frowned, “I dunno. Dreams aren’t an exact science. And that sounds like bullshit.”

  “I read somewhere that the trick was just to not be afraid of it,” Ryan shrugged, “But I tried that, and wound up punching Steven in the face, and, I mean, it worked, but the gloom ‘n stuff is still here.”

  “Were you really unafraid, though?” Eugene asked, his own piercing eyes reflected in Ryan’s startled ones, “You were brave, yes. But bravery and being unafraid… those are two different things.”

  Ryan snorted. “I’m not stupid -”

  “Ryan,” Eugene said, flatly, “We need to find a way to stop this thing before someone gets hurt - or worse.”

  “What if we burned the barn?” Ned suggested, looking to the group. They looked back at him. “It’d be a pretty damn good display of being unafraid, and without a central source, maybe the demon will leave?”

  Eugene blinked. “That could work. We’ll need to ask Steven and Andrew, though.”

  Ten minutes later and, across town Andrew sighed into his phone.

  “If you really think this will work.”

  .o0o.

  Ned creeped into the barn, feeling the wind raise the hair on his arm. Voices whispered to him, and he felt like running away or simply falling to the ground, clutching at his hair and screaming until they went away. They whispered horrible things about him. It was middle school all over again, when word that he was trans got out and ran wild. It was complete with insecurity, the need to hide his chest, the erratic feeling of paranoia in his lungs and toes as endless voices muttered that he’d never really be a man. It hurt like Hell.

  But he pressed on, to the quarantine stable. Armed with gasoline and a bundle of matches, he hoped that the rain wouldn’t wash everything away before the barn burned to the ground.

  He knew the others were outside with more fuel, anyway. He started in the quarantine stable, making sure to use a lot of gasoline there. He moved around the corners of the barn and, as he exited, he lit the match and dropped it onto a trail of gasoline.

  It felt cathartic, really. Like he was burning all the horrible people he’d come into contact with. Like he was burning the people who’d ignored him after he came out to them, or worse. Like he was burning up his whole past, like he was about to watch it go up in flames. He walked up to the front knowing he was going to enjoy this very, very much.

  And walked straight into the door.

  He tried the handle - when had he closed the door? - and he banged on it as the flames began to lick up the walls, creeping closer and closer to him. The room grew unbearably hot, Ned’s leather jacket sticking to his skin and hair damp on his face.

  “Let me out!” He screamed, “Somebody help!”

  The door shook with the force of Ned throwing his body against it. Just as the flames began to burn his leg, the door splintered around the lock and he fell into Eugene’s arms, shaking.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Eugene said, softer than Eugene had said anything, ever, “You’re safe now. Are you hurt?”

  Ned nodded - he’d been burned and there were splinters in his leg and just above his collar. Eugene spent the night doting after him, picking out the splinters carefully and pressing cool cloths to his burns. Ned was so shaken that it took him awhile after that to even talk, nevermind process the fact that he almost died. Shane and Ryan took one bed, Eugene and Ned took the other. Ned didn’t talk about the fact that Eugene held him close despite the fact that he knew Eugene hated cuddling.

  .o0o.

  Zach tripped over a rock, papers flying everywhere and heart thumping so loud he thought the whole town could hear. He scrambled back up, ankle feeling like it was malfunctioning. He had too much adrenaline in his system to feel much in the way of pain, but he knew he’d scraped up his legs and palms pretty good, and that he had a very sprained ankle.

  But he kept hobbling on, as fast as he could go without falling right over again. He had to get somewhere. He didn’t know where, just - somewhere.

  Zach was naturally clumsy at the best of times, so of course he’d tripped over the rock when he was running for his life in the middle of the night. His lungs still burned, even as he slowed to what felt like a brutally meager pace.

  Then, someone appeared in front of him. A hooded figure - Zach couldn’t see its face. A switchblade clicked, and Zach put his arms out, pleading on his tongue, preparing for the worst.

  .o0o.

  Eugene turned on the radio as everyone else looked out at the continuing downpour. By now, there was some minor flooding going on. Ryan kicked the wall.

  “Dammit!” He swore, “Fuck!”

  “Woah, dude, what’s going on?” Ned asked, eyes wide.

  Eugene answered before Ryan could speak. “He’s angry at himself for agreeing to burn the barn, even though he wasn’t the one who suggested it, and it was as good of an idea as anything else.”

  “Dude - what the fuck? How did you know that?” Ryan exclaimed.

  Eugene shrugged. “I dunno. I’m starting to think I’m psychic. It makes sense - back in Korea my mother was weaned on the teat of the town psychic.”

  “Wh -” Ryan wheezed, cutting himself off.

  “I’m serious!” Eugene said, “It hasn’t really been a thing until now, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense!”

  Shane and Ryan exchanged another one of their glances , and Eugene glared at them. And that’s when the radio said something that caught their attention.

  The woman’s crackly voice was quieter than anybody’s, but the word “murder” caused the room to fall silent.

  “-f twenty-seven year old Zach Kornfeld shocks the town. He was found stabbed to death in Wilder Park, at the hands of someone police simply can’t identify. With no witnesses and next to no evidence, there are currently no suspects.”

  Ned turned to Eugene. “Bud, I’m sorry -”

  But Eugene was just staring at the radio, unblinking, unmoving. Ned looked crestfallen too, to say the least. Ryan was reminded of just how small a town it was - Ned and Eugene probably knew Zach. Ryan felt horribly guilty. It really was his fault.

  “Don’t even start blaming yourself,” Shane murmured, hand wrapped around Ryan’s waist. Eugene looked like he was having trouble breathing. He was having a panic attack, Ryan vaguely thought, as he nestled himself into Shane’s side like the guilty, selfish thing he was. Eugene collapsed onto his knees, and still, Ryan watched on as Ned helped him, almost like Ned wasn’t really there, just something blank to guide Eugene away from his terror.

  Eugene gasped and swallowed, spitting out, “Everything’s falling apart.”

  Ned’s hand stroked Eugene’s back as he looked out to the torrential downpour. “I just wish the demon would get it over with and end us. I just wish he’d stop our suffering once and for all.”

  Ryan thought of Steven. For some of them, their suffering wouldn’t stop at all. It felt like years had passed, and they’d only been in town for a few days.

  “You’re right,” Shane said, stepping away from Ryan. “Everything is changing. But - okay - maybe there’s a bright side to this?”

  “Where?” Eugene asked, so quietly it might as well have not been there, “Where’s the goddamned bright side? My friend is dead , Shane, and my other friend sold his soul and this psychic stuff isn’t nearly as cool as I’d imagined!”

  “We don’t know for sure that you’re -”

  Eugene lunged at Shane, held back by Ned. “I do! I do, and I know for a fact that if it weren’t for you, or something, Ryan would be fucking dead too! And you would be just as scared as I am!”

  “I - I’m sorry, man,” Shane blinked, “I didn’t even believe in this shit a few days ago. I just wanted to come here with Ryan and watch him get scared out of his mind and laugh like we always do - and now - and now I’m responsible for so many horrible things and I -”

  Ryan just watched the scene as though he were behind a veil. Like he wasn’t even there. Shane sobbed and Ryan reached out for him but Shane ran out before Ryan could get his hand to his shoulder.

  Ryan shook, even if he couldn’t really feel it - as if his whole body was in front of the veil, his hand pressed to his mouth. Eugene was silent beside him, staring at the wall, and Ned looked like he was stuck between helping them or chasing after Shane. He walked to the door, closing it, and turned to face them again. He blinked, and his eyes were pitch black.

  .o0o.

  Shane made it a few blocks before he stopped on the sidewalk, dropping to his knees. “Please!” He begged, staring up at the abysmal sky, “Please - I know I haven’t believed in you for a long, long time - but I need answers and I don’t have them!”

  He screamed up at the sky in the empty night, pleading to someone he didn’t believe in to do something he didn’t believe God could do. His last please, I can’t lose him echoed through Main Street, greeting Shane’s ears just as they’d left them. Meaningless and facetious and just a way for Shane to cast doubt onto someone else. Shane sobbed into his palms, feeling his jacket soak onto his skin.

  He felt truly hopeless for once in his life. No answers, and the questions kept piling on and on and on. So he sat there, freezing, in the rain, letting it fall over his face and get in his eyes. If this was a movie, there would be a swell of music as the cameras closed in on Shane’s face, capturing it in the most beautiful light possible.

  But it wasn’t beautiful - and it wasn’t loud. It was quiet except for the sounds of Shane’s lamenting and the sheets of rain that just kept coming, and it was ugly, the way Shane’s face crumbled, the way his back hunched, the way he’d acted. Everything about his situation was ugly and quiet and it made Shane want to scream again. But if he did, he still wouldn’t have any answers. And, anyway, nobody would come to check on him.

  Shane looked over to find a shop - closed. But it drew Shane’s attention. He supposed it was the gloom or the demon’s influence or whatever, but he was attracted to it like a magnet. He stopped crying and took off his jacket, using it to smash open the glass door. No alarm.

  Shane walked in and picked apart the scene. It was a small, hole-in-the-wall place, decorated with nerdy posters and memorabilia. Shane looked at the desk at the front, and started looking for something. He didn’t know quite what. Then, he found it - a tattered book laying on the worn carpet floor. It looked as though it had been dropped.

  It had a name and a number written on it. Zach Kornfeld , Shane read, and felt sick to his stomach.

  And Shane told himself dead men don’t need books , and he opened it.

  Demons are a most foul creature, wretched souls that have been tortured so endlessly that their souls cease to be human, instead consumed by their own pain and suffering.

  Shane read along, a few sentences catching his attention. Demons feed on fear and hatred, so lack of either emotion should get rid of them , in pen, by the typed text.

  Huh. So Eugene was right.

  Another typed note caught his attention as he skimmed the rest of it. If a person sells their soul, and the demon who made the deal with them is destroyed, that person is free from the deal.

  Shane had to share this with them - he ran back to the hotel room, a fire in his lungs that was mostly there due to the fact that he was, like, super out of shape. His legs burned and his shoulder hurt for some weird reason and damn , Shane made a mental note to go running more often with Ryan when they got out of this hellhole.

  Of course, now that he thought about it, leaving the town felt almost… wrong. Like he was stuck in a fishbowl with nowhere to go, and if he left he’d cease to breathe. He arrived at the door to their room, and pounded on it with his fist.

  “Ryan! I don’t have the key - let me in! I know how to kill the demon!” Shane shouted over the wind, which had picked up, almost as if the demon knew Shane knew. But there wasn’t a reply. Shane, panicked, glanced out at the parking lot. Their Jeep was still there, so where was Ryan?

  Shane knocked on the door again. “Ryan? Eugene? Ned?”

  He stopped and listened and he could feel something wrong in the room. It wasn’t just his paranoia - there was something horrible in there.

  Shane grew frantic again, bruising his palm on the door. “Let me in! Get away from Ryan - fuck! - I love him! Let me - let me in!”

  The door swung open. Ryan and Eugene were sitting together in the corner, hands bound and mouths gagged with some strange thing that Shane couldn’t place. Oh well , he thought, It’s just weird demon goo, then .

  “You love him?” Ned asked, black eyes and silver tongue giving the demon away, “You really, really love him?”

  Ryan’s eyes widened, and Eugene shook his head, as if he knew they were doomed.

  “I think I do, you demon fuck,” Shane snarled, “And if you touch him -”

  “Don’t worry,” The demon said, “I won’t touch a hair on his pretty little head. I’m sure you know by now that love will kill me, oh woe!” The demon pressed a hand to its forehead, pretending to faint. “I’m so scared.”

  “You should be, ‘cus I’m not scared of you,” Shane hissed, eyes narrowed, “Why would I be?”

  The demon almost seemed taken aback, but it smiled anyway. “You may not be afraid of me - but your crush? Your little infatuation, your little project ? He’s terrified of me. I can touch him - I can hurt him all I want. But if you truly love him - if you don’t want that to happen, you’ll kill Eugene.”

  Shane found himself holding a knife, the book safely in the demon’s hands. “Do it - do it, Shane. Prove that you love Ryan, and I’ll be forced to leave.”

  Shane glanced between Ryan and Eugene, and back to the knife in his hand. And then, Shane dropped to his knees and set the knife down. He cast Ryan one more pleading look.

  “I’m not going to kill Eugene,” Shane said, swallowing and taking a shaky breath before continuing, “Because he doesn’t deserve that. But Ryan doesn’t deserve pain either. Please, if you’re gonna hurt anyone, hurt me. Because I love him too much to see him suffer. Please .”

  The demon laughed. It looked between Ryan and Eugene and Shane, and laughed. “You really think I’ll do what you say? You’re pitiful. I’ll hurt him, and you’ll watch, and then… when I’m done with him, I’ll hurt you.”

  Shane ignored the demon, trying a new tactic, and turned to Ryan. “Please, baby - I promise it can’t hurt you if you aren’t afraid. Just - just think about me, okay?”

  Ryan nodded, and Shane pressed forward into this unfamiliar territory, “Think of me with my arms around you, watching basketball or whatever, and - and think of going out on dates to Knott’s Berry farm and - and just try to stop being afraid. I know you - I know you can do it, okay, baby?”

  Shane had never really talked to someone like that, but it did something to Ryan. His shoulders squared up and he had tears in his eyes.

  “Okay, I’ve had enough of this,” The demon said, and the knife rose into the air and flew at Ryan. He stared at it as it approached, and Shane thought of Ryan buying him flowers, Ryan going window shopping with him and making fun of the latest fashion trends, Ryan going to cheap haunted houses with him, anything but the sound of Ryan screaming.

  And then, he realized Ryan wasn’t screaming. The knife had stopped a few inches from Ryan’s abdomen, and the demon kept flicking its wrist like something would happen. But it just twitched lifelessly, like it was stuck.

  Ryan tentatively tried at the bonds on his wrist, which fell apart. He spat out the gag and rushed over to Shane, tackling him in a hug. “It worked - holy shit, holy shit, Shane - it worked!”

  Shane kissed Ryan fully. The demon, in a body that was seeming more and more to be Ned’s, blinked.

  And then the demon screamed. It was an unearthly sound that pierced Shane’s ears - but somehow, he couldn’t care less. Ryan kissed back, and there was a blinding flash of light. The bonds at Eugene’s wrists fizzled away, but not before leaving the demon’s last mark. Eugene hissed as the imprint of the bonds was burned onto his skin.

  After a minute, Eugene spoke. “Do y’all hear that?” He said softly, eyes full of wonder.

  “Hear what?” Asked Ryan, still on Shane’s chest. His voice was slightly muffled by Shane’s jacket.

  “The rain stopped.”

  .o0o.

  Steven was still awake. It was six in the morning and he hadn’t slept and somehow, at some point, the rain had stopped. But that meant the demon could be back at any moment to collect him.

  “I love you,” Andrew said, like it was the last time he’d ever be able to.

  Steven sighed. “I love you too, buddy.”

  “You can’t call me buddy, we’re practically married,” Andrew rolled his eyes, “And, hey, listen -” He got serious, “Even if at some point you’re going to be taken away to Hell, or whatever, these years will still have been the best of my life. Even if the demon promised I’d be happy - I can’t really be happy without you.”

  “Were you, though?” Steven asked, “You never denied that you’d been depressed.”

  “Steven, I - you know I couldn’t help that -”

  “Well, you could have asked me for help! Partners are supposed to support each other! And I’m not just here for you when you’re happy!” Steven raised his voice, stomping his foot, and immediately feeling bad about his outburst. “I’m sorry - I’m just scared for you sometimes.”

  Andrew looked a little taken aback, and then his eyes softened. “I love you so much. I’ll - I’ll try to tell you next time.”

  “Thank you,” Steven breathed, relaxing a bit and kissing Andrew’s cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  .o0o.

  Ned looked wary as he waited for his mom at the park. When she arrived, though, he relaxed. She looked as though she had been crying. A lot.

  “Ned - honey,” She said, already looking uncomfortably close to tears, “I’m so sorry - I’m so, so sorry - I don’t know what came over me, but I was so terrified -”

  Ned’s resolve to be angry at his mom broke and he rushed forward, scooping her up in a hug. “Mom, it’s okay! It’s okay. You were afraid. We all do horrible things when we’re scared.”

  Ned’s mom shook her head, “It’s not okay! I was so scared of the Lord’s judgment for my baby that I kicked him out. That’s never okay. You know I’ve been going to that nondenominational church lately, where they focus a lot more on tolerance, and -”

  “And I love you for it,” Ned said, squeezing her and letting her go, “You’re doing your best. And I know you didn’t mean it - I think the rain just got to you.”

  Ned’s mom nodded, and Eugene noticed they were both crying. Eugene smiled, his own eyes watery.

  Eugene knew everything would be okay for Ned. Ariel would be back in town, soon, and Ned’s mom would give him more leftovers more often for a while before everything went back to the way it had always been.

  And it was all like it was before, except Eugene and Ned had a few more scars and a few more stories they couldn’t share.

  .o0o.

  Ryan and Shane left the next weekend. Steven was assured that the demon was obliterated and couldn’t take him to Hell, Ned had reconciled with his mother, Eugene had found the man who’d robbed him and had the money returned (plus some extra for damages).

  As Shane packed the filming equipment back up into the jeep, he turned to Ryan. “This feels wrong, right?”

  “Yeah.” Ryan nodded, “Like… like we’ve been through so much in this town we belong here now?”

  Shane gave a small noise of agreement. “Yeah. Like we’re leaving ourselves behind.”

  Shane didn’t think he’d belong there, either, though. Like they didn’t belong anywhere, now.

  They stood there for a moment, and Shane climbed into the driver’s side of the Jeep. Ryan took a seat on the passenger’s side. They passed the diner on the way out, and Ryan saw the vigil for Zach taking place in the recently repaired front room. Ryan turned to Shane, who had his aviator sunglasses on and hair windswept. His heart still hurt.

  Ryan watched the fields pass them by in a slow, melancholy way. He didn’t feel free any more. Just like he was the same small, trapped thing he’d been when the demon had inhabited Ned’s body back at the motel. He wanted to go to Zach’s vigil so bad, but Shane had promised that they would not be missed. They hadn’t even said goodbye.

  “Do you think there’s more demons out there?” Ryan asked as they stopped for gas.

  Shane thought a moment, and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Wanna never get involved with another one again?” Ryan leaned up against Shane, both of them looking out at the fading dusk around them.

  Shane paused again. “Absolutely.”