#oh look there goes my deadline just passing by

[shoveitevil]

ok lock in time

[steddiealltheway]

I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3

It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited. 

The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's. 

Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober. 

The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner. 

He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.  

He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention. 

He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.  

After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon. 

He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it. 

He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down. 

Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open. 

Oh. That's how he knows the van. 

Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply." 

"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone." 

Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?" 

Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay." 

"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup." 

"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school." 

"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified. 

"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit." 

"And why do you want to call her?" 

Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house." 

Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?" 

"Her." 

He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move. 

Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer. 

"Hello?" 

Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve." 

"Oh, Nancy is currently-" 

"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door." 

Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?" 

"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year." 

"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up. 

Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." 

Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?" 

Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?" 

Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole." 

Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister." 

"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably. 

Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died. 

Eddie nods his head. “Right.” 

Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out. 

Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back. 

He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.  

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.” 

Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?” 

Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing." 

Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.” 

Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.” 

He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand. 

“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.” 

Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?” 

Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.” 

Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together. 

Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery. 

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around. 

Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone. 

Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”  

Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.” 

Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk. 

He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asks. 

Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.” 

Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.” 

“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. 

Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.” 

There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this. 

“Run away with me.” 

Steve head slowly comes up. “What?” 

Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in. 

The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.” 

Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.” 

Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.” 

Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.” 

He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.” 

Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?” 

“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit. 

Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief. 

Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.” 

“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?” 

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.” 

Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.” 

It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.” 

“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.” 

“And he’d kill you if you ever left.” 

Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.” 

Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and- 

Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.” 

Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin. 

The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” 

Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while. 

He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?” 

Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.” 

Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” 

Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?” 

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile. 

“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...” 

“Maybe?” Eddie prompts. 

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.” 

“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...” 

“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.” 

“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly. 

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.” 

“Nine,” Steve says immediately. 

“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees. 

“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together. 

“Six,” Eddie exhales. 

“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head. 

“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer. 

“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together. 

“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life. 

He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating. 

The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed. 

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks. 

Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.” 

Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.” 

He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with. 

[sugarphoenixlovesfanfic]

♤ a tragedy ♤

It’s not clear to anyone but you when Aventurine is exhausted. When the tolls of his job weigh upon his shoulders.

You know he tries every day to make his family and the Avgin proud. Even as he refuses to admit it, even as he scoffs and says, “Don’t be ridiculous. I only serve my best interests. Everyone knows that.”

But you know better than that, as his secretary.

You’ve read through his reports as he argues against eradicating governments, argues for aid and deadline elongations for struggling populations. You’ve read his reports where he finds merit in every developing planet, where he calls for harsh punishments for oppressors.

Sometimes, they listen to him. It’s days like those where he has a spring in his step, where his eyes are ever so slightly brighter.

Sometimes, they don’t listen to him. It’s on these days that nothing changes, at least to everybody else. He’s cold and sarcastic as ever, strange and manipulative as ever. But alone in his office he sends for two bottles more than usual, stays late alone in his office for longer than necessary. He goes home a little more drunk than he should, and when he talks his tone is somber and manic and hopeless as he speaks of meaningless regrets and troubled pasts.

As his secretary, you’re usually the only one who sees him when he’s alone in his office. Sure, it’s annoying when Aventurine gets into one of his states. But it betrays how big of a heart he truly has, how much he actually cares. So you smile in secret, and over time your heart grows fonder. You start doing things for him before he asks, like preparing his morning coffee, and you can tell he’s noticing, because now he’s berating you for “working too hard.”

“Says the man who works overtime even when he doesn’t have to,” you say, measuring out lumps of sugar.

He doesn’t have to tell you his reasons for that are different, and yet, all the same, done out of passion. You know he buries himself in work to escape, and simultaneously to feel like he’s making a difference, as though the death of his kind is all his fault and he’s slowly chipping away at an insurmountable debt. You know he won’t listen to you if you tell him it isn’t his fault. He has no care for himself, his own life and body are poker chips he gambles all the time in the name of his family and his kind. But how is it possible that a man who cares so little for himself dresses so extravagantly, makes sure all his suits are spic and span, gives himself all the luxuries?

Simple. It’s akin to the way a show horse is all groomed and dressed up so it’s sold for a high price.

“What are you thinking about?”

You look up as you pass the coffee cup across his desk towards him.

“Oh, nothing. Just…a tragedy.”

divider by @cafekitsune

[prodbymaui]

No Distraction

I could be temptation, you could be my sin

The absolute epitome of fictional characters with broad shoulders, rock hard six-pack abs and a face so handsome you wouldn't get tired of staring at it, was your one and only boyfriend, Jung Jaehyun. It has been days since you've last got touched by him and craving wouldn't be the word to describe it. It's a desperation.

Looking at Jaehyun who's busy typing away on his laptop as his eyes goes back and forth from the papers and the gadget, you could feel yourself getting wet as seconds passed by. That pillowy natural red lips, the piercings and the glasses that you fucking love on him so much. Jaehyun looks like a fuckboy and nerd combined, but you both know how much he's a simp for you and would kiss the ground you've walked on.

Sighing for nth time, you pouted at your boyfriend even though he can't see you, ''Baby? Aren't you at least gonna take a break from that?'' Jaehyun hadn't stopped writing since he sat, only standing up to get food or take the bathroom.

You only received a shake of his head and nothing, just that. Ugh, you swore you felt like crying by the lack of attention. Deciding that enough was enough, you finally got on your feet before making your way to your busy busy man.

He paid no attention as you straddled his hips, wrapping your hands around him and burying your face on the crook of his neck, inhaling the manly scent. You made your move to press your crotch to his clothed dick, causing to bit your lips. It's not even hard yet it felt big.

Your hands travelled down to his chest, down to his abs until it reached just above the waistline of his pants, earning a warning from him. ''Not now, wait 'til I finish this,'' The deep voice vibrated against your skin, a hand of him grabbed your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

''I won't distract you! I'm not gonna move, I just really really want you inside, please,'' You whined, rolling your hips towards him, desperate to feel him even if the clothes were on your way. Diverting your eyes at him, you plead him with puppy eyes, accompanied by a sad pout.

Sighing, Jaehyun finally made a decision, not being able to say no to you, ''Fine, you're not gonna move. I'll fuck you good later if you keep your promise.'' Nodding quickly, you beamed in glee, smile showing on your face widely as you took off your panties under your- Jaehyun's -oversized shirt and pulled his pants down enough to release the length that made you drool.

Slowly, you positioned him at your entrance and sinked in, gasping when you felt your walls got stretched so good. Once Jaehyun was all in inside of you, snug and fit as if you two were made for each other, you gripped a handful of Jaehyun's shirt and closed your eyes, trying to prevent your hips from grinding down.

Your boyfriend tried not to pay attention to you, wanting to finish his paperworks as its deadline was tomorrow but how can he when your gasps and clenching on his dick were all he could think about. Jaehyun closed his eyes shut as he felt another clench, followed by an 'oh my god' to his hear.

''B-babe,'' You shuffled on top of him, trying to find a position where his tip wouldn't poke your sweet spot so deliciously, wanting to abide your rules. But it only caused the both of you to moan by the stimulation from your action. ''I'm sorry, I just wanna-'' You squeaked, falling to Jaehyun's chest when you felt another brush of his tip inside of you. Hands shaking lightly as you controlled your breathing, setting your mind off of the blurring pressure of Jaehyun's shaft.

You clenched down on him unconsciously, earning a deep moan from Jaehyun, further causing your wetness to pour out. You felt Jaehyun moved something away in front of him before wrapping his hands around you, carrying you to make you sit on his table.

He didn't gave you any signal nor gesture, he just started to pull out until his tip and slammed back in with a grip on your thighs. ''Oh god!'' Your face scrunched up as you held on to the edge of the table. Jaehyun started picking up his pace, tugging the collar of your shirt down, revealing your breasts. He leaned down and sucked on them like a starved man, pinching and groping the other, just wanting to worship you breasts.

''Fuck, Jae, faster, please. I want it faster,'' You begged and begged until he cracked and discovered an animalistic pace, the table swaying violently, threatening to break any seconds from now. Jaehyun placed a hand on the wall for support, tilting your head up as he kissed you softly and full of love, so different from how he's thrusting inside you harshly and rearranging your guts.

''More, more!'' Demanding wasn't something you always were but sometimes, you can be one. Especially with times like these that you were deprived of his touch for days. And Jaehyun, as someone who would do anything for you, followed every beg you say.

He lifted up both of your feet to place on the table as well, creating an open and more space for him. Jaehyun spat on his hand before moving it down to your pussy, quickly attaching it to your clit as he created friction just enough to bring more pleasure to you.

You screamed, yelled and thrashed against his hold as you felt your climax getting nearer, eyes rolling at the back of your head before you finally bursted out with scream of Jaehyun's name. Painting his dick with your white cream as you held on to his shoulders due to overstimulation, waiting for him to finish and anticipating the beautiful view of him cumming for you.

masterlist

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: boo seungkwan

hanahaki disease (unrequited love)

'and i hoped - in vain, i know - that maybe there's the slightest chance of you feeling the same.'

tw: angst

at first seungkwan thinks he's just coming down with some flu or cold. his throat feels scratchy and dry no matter how much water he drinks and it's starting to annoy him to no end. runny nose and slight rise in the temperature confirms his first suspicion of just catching a cold, so he stops by pharmacy on his way to the house, grabbing some immunity boosters. they usually help him without the need to take anything stronger and assured in this, seungkwan doesn't even think that it might be something else. it's only when he feels like something is stuck in the middle of hi throat, only when he violently coughs and stares at the white petal on his hand does he realize what is happening.

he wishes he could say that this is a surprise. he wishes he could spend time thinking this over, trying to guess where the hell this is coming from. only he doesn't because he knows. seungkwan has no need to put on a show for anyone in the safety of his own home, so he lets himself slowly crouch on the floor, staring at the white petal. it suits so well, that's the thing. you love white, always look so pretty in it. but seungkwan might be biased cause in his humble opinion you look good in everything. ('seungkwannie!' you giggle, blushing prettily as he compliments your outfit. 'thank you so much. you always know what to say to make me feel better!') white petal looks suspiciuosly like it's from a rose and seungkwan instantly checks his guess, pulling up thousand pictures of white roses from the internet. and of course, he is correct. ('is this for me? oh, seungkwan!' your smile is blinding as you gratefully accept the bouquet from him. it consists of white roses and when you look up at him, seungkwan knows he picked it right. 'this is so sweet, thank you. so thoughtful of you, kwannie.') seungkwan stares at the petal for few more minutes before standing up and leaving it on the coffee table. he goes to take a shower, then cooks himself dinner and doesn't tell anyone about the petal he coughed up from his lungs. he knows what it means, everyone knows what it means. he'll deal with it on his own.

'oh dear, are you feeling okay?' tomorrow is a new day and his love for you did not disappear. how can it, when you're staring at him with such a concerned expression like you care? no, that's not right; seungkwan knows that you care. just not the same way he cares for you. 'you look a bit pale. maybe you should work from home today?'

'i'm fine, just didn't get my beauty sleep,' seungkwan jokes and watches in adoration as you smile at this. making you smile is his favorite way to pass time. 'don't worry.'

suddenly your hand is on his forehead and seungkwan freezes up, wishes time would freeze too so he could bottle this feeling up. 'hm, i think you're a bit too warm. seungkwan, are you sure you're fine?'

no, he wants to say. i am in love you and you don't love me back. i coughed up white rose petal yesterday and it's you, it's you, it can't be anyone else. 'i need to finish several presentations,' he says instead. 'deadline is tomorrow.'

you're not satisfied with his answer, of course you're not. that's why he fell in love with you in the first place, because watching fire in your eyes burn as you stand up for someone or when you're passionately talking about something had him hooked. right now he watches as you turn off his laptop, unplug it from charger and push it in his backpack all while mumbling about importance of taking care of yourself. 'i care for you, seungkwan.' your voice is gentle and sincere. 'please, take care of yourself, okay? let me know if you'll need anything else.'

all i need is your love so i could stop coughing up those petals is on his mind but he only smiles and dutifully goes home. by the end of the day he coughs enough to fill up small vase. it's alarming, the rate at which this is happening. seungkwan knows that one of the solutions would be to just try and forget you, rip you out of his heart but he also knows that it's impossible. rip you out of his heart? one might as well just rip his heart altogether because you're not getting out of there. your smile, your kindness, your eyes, your laugh - everything is carved inside him. how sad, he thinks, staring up at your profile on instagram, where you just posted pretty photo of yourself on a date with your partner. how sad that it doesn't break my heart. you were already taken when he met you and seungkwan knew from the start that he never stood a chance, but his heart still chose you. and it hurt at first but then he grew so accustomed to this feeling that he learned to live with it like it's normal to pine for someone, to have a onesided love. seungkwan coughs again and more white rose petals fall on the ground. it doesn't even hurt, surprisingly. seungkwan leans on the wall and presses a 'like' on your photo. last thought on his mind before he goes to sleep is how you are so gentle with him that even your white rose petals cannot hurt him.

a/n: just so you know, i hurt myself with this one too. but one of these tropes had to be angsty and seungkwan with his emotional maturity fits the best for hanahaki disease :( hopefully this was done nicely! - nini

check out my other seventeen writings here

if by any chance you're also intereted in f1 then check out my writings for them here

[esamastation]

Part fifty-six of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: forty-seven forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five

-

Sephiroth knows he's on borrowed time. He bought it, accidentally, with his Qi-deviation… but it's been well over a week since then, without any other deviations. Instead he has had other more interesting developments… and the timer never stopped ticking.

For over a week he's been fine - for over a week he's been doing… pretty much nothing but training. Which in PIDW wouldn't have been a big deal - things happened slower, developments took time, everyone went into seclusion every now and then, and it was fine. When your life revolves around cultivation, haste is an enemy. Cultivation takes decades - sometimes centuries! You need to take your time with it! Months upon months had passed Shen Qingqiu by without him doing anything but laying and reading, and it had been great!

But he's in a sci-fi fantasy dystopia, in the middle of a war, and he's the Big Bad super SOLDIER hybrid. Something the world seems keen to remind him.

"Tseng of the Turks," his new guard introduces himself in the front of the charcoal burner's house. "I will be taking over for Reno and Rude."

Sephiroth can almost see a clock behind Tseng, ticking down to a deadline. He's just as sharply handsome as the game art made him seem - and even less flexible. Everything about him from his posture up his clothing to the precise lack of expression screams you're wasting the company's time, and mine.

"I know who you are," Sephiroth says, setting his face carefully blank as the vibes around the house just about plummet. "To think I rate such a high level watchman."

"Your wellbeing is of the highest priority to the company," Tseng agrees. "I'm here to ensure your recovery goes by smoothly so that you can return to your duties promptly."

Arching a brow, Sephiroth folds his arms. Well, isn't that a corporate speech if he's ever heard it. "I'm honoured," he says. "Though I thought the highest priority for me was to, what was it… stay here and get my shit together?"

Tseng's expression doesn't even twitch. "According to Reno's and Rude's reports, your shit seems to be held together remarkably well."

… oh? Smiling a little, Sephiroth looks Tseng up and down. "You'd think so, hm?"

Tseng is quiet for a moment before clasping his hands behind his back. "We shall see. For now, you should act as though nothing has changed. Pretend I'm not even here. I won't disturb your training."

"I don't think I can," Sephiroth muses, testing the waters. "Your very presence is disturbing."

Not even a twitch of an eye lash. "Are you disturbed now?"

Oh, what a bitch! Sephiroth likes him already. "I guess we shall see, at that. Now, where is Angeal?" he glances around, even though he knows Angeal didn't come back with Tseng.

"On a mission, I presume," Tseng says, and Sephiroth casts him a sharp look. Tseng faces him blandly. "Judging by the reports, his presence here was largely unnecessary to your progress. It is an inefficient use of company resources to have two First Class SOLDIERs indefinitely off the clock. He is taking up your missions here in Wutai."

Sephiroth can feel his own expression growing blank. "I didn't agree to that."

"It was assumed you didn't mind," Tseng says calmly. "Seeing as you didn't seem interested in completing your missions yourself, they were simply passed down the chain. To Angeal."

"It would've been nice to have been consulted on that," Sephiroth says firmly.

"Would you have taken on the missions if you'd known?" Tseng asks with the slightest arch of his brows. "Because unless you would have, your opinion had no bearing on the matter going forward. "

… Okay, ouch. "I see," Sephiroth says, his voice growing low. "Will Angeal be returning here once he's done?"

Tseng blinks at him, slowly. "This location isn't near any of the current points of interest in Wutai. That's why it was selected for your use. It's much more practical for Angeal to stay in the town."

Ah. Well, well, if it isn't those company shackles he'd been happily ignoring. Damn. "... So it's just you and me here, huh?" Sephiroth asks unhappily.

"Only until you feel fit to return to taking on missions," Tseng says and then asks, pointedly, "Do you have an estimate on how much longer will your cultivation training take?"

Sephiroth looks at him closely, but it's hard to say what Tseng thinks - or what he knows. The man just looks at him coolly, expectantly. "I suppose that's another thing we will have to see, isn't it?" Sephiroth answers, just to be contrary. "Alright - do you need help finding a room, Tseng of the Turks?"

Tseng considers him for an uncomfortably long time and then says, "I think I can manage. I will set up in the room vacated by Reno, unless you have objections."

"Be my guest," Sephiroth says and then watches as the man heads inside. Then he looks out to the yard - to the training field Angeal had cleared out for him.

It doesn't seem quite as comfortable as before, all of a sudden.

Of course their stay here was always going to be temporary, and Sephiroth hadn't exactly expected them to leave together. It's just that… he'd figured he'd be leaving first, to parts unknown, maybe with Angeal, but probably not. Angeal is still too loyal to the company - honestly, and he might very well stay loyal until the degradation would begin. Which is… something Sephiroth still hadn't figured out a solution for. Beyond a regular Qi-transfer, maybe.

Shit. He'd procrastinated too long, hadn't he? He'd gotten complacent. He always gets complacent.

Now the matter of Genesis and Angeal might be out of his hands. The company is isolating him, for whatever reason, he doesn't even care. It's manipulation, either way. Now Angeal is out there, maybe killing people in his stead, and Sephiroth has no say in the matter. And Sephiroth is alone with no friends to lean on, as the head Turk in command begins prodding him for results.

Great. Wonderful. Such fun.

Closing his eyes briefly, Sephiroth sighs and then looks up at the darkening night sky.

Tick-tock, goes the clock, as time starts running out.

[fablesrose]

Leverage Rewrite Ch 1 - Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Words: 3054

Summary: We are introduced to y/n Ford and her relationship with Nate through some phone calls. Takes place directly after the Bank Shot Job and goes through most of season 1.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, canon level stuff

A/n: okay, so I may be up over my head on this one, but here it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my lackluster concentration. I enjoyed freelancing, I really did, but this job was just not coming along like I wanted it to. I couldn’t even drag my eyes off my laptop to see who was calling me. It was always work related though.

“This is y/n Ford, how can I help you?” I made sure to turn on my best chipper voice, though I could tell my perplexed expression didn’t change. 

“Don’t use your customer service voice on me, y/n.” The voice was very familiar and I sighed in relief, turning away from my computer. 

“Oh, hey Nate. I didn’t look at the phone, I thought it was work… How are you doing?”

“That’s alright, I’m doing fine. I saw that you called a little while ago, I’m sorry it took awhile, I was working a job.” He sounded tired, but different than the last few times I had talked to him.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t heard from you for a bit, but a job? I didn’t know you were working again. How has that been going? What are you doing?” 

It was good that he was getting out and doing things again. He had been in a deep rut since he left I.Y.S and got divorced. And of course since Sam… passed. It has only seemed to get worse after that. I have tried to check in with Nate at least every couple months, more frequently when possible. Sometimes he doesn’t get back to me for a while, which seemed to be the case here. I’ve been worried about him, but maybe this will lead him to the up and up.

“Uh, I’m not sure if I can explain what I’m doing right now, birdie. It uh, it's a bit complicated and maybe more dangerous than you would like…” He sighed, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was giving a slight wince at what he said. I smiled, both at hearing him call me the nickname he had given me years ago, as well as his conscientiousness of my feelings. 

“Well, I hope you can tell me about it sometime. Are you happy doing it?”

He thought about it for a minute, “yeah, I am. I get to help people.”

“Are you alone? Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got people.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. I still worry some, but you’re a grown man, you can take care of yourself… or should I say old man?” I smirked, knowing that it would bother him a bit. 

He barked out half a laugh, “I’ll let that one go. I’m glad you worry about me… You know you’re my favorite niece right?”

It was my turn to laugh sarcastically. “I’m your only niece. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Okay.”

I set the phone down after he hung up. Nate practically raised me. My parents died when I was a kid, an accident, and he was the only family I had left… Or the best family I had left. Grandad Jimmy barely counts. Even with my parents around I was always close with Nate, he always had little puzzles to teach me or games to play. I knew it was hard on him, to take care of me, but we had each other, and it got better. We both had to grow up fast, and when Maggie and then Sam came along, it seemed like the world was giving back a little bit. We were a happy family for a while. I graduated, moved out into the real world, and tried to be to Sam what Nate was to me. It all came crashing down. Nate had his own process though. This was worse than when my parents died, understandably, but I knew he was the only one that could work himself out of it. I try to let him. 

My eyes flipped back to my computer from where they were staring at the abandoned phone on the table. I can’t afford to reminisce any longer, I have deadlines to keep.

—---

Across the country, Nate absentmindedly tapped his phone against his knee, thinking. He gingerly moved his right shoulder, trying not to test his stitches too much. The team had just finished up the bank shot job. He knew he needed to take it easy while he healed up from his gunshot wound, but he could feel a slight itch to keep going in the back of his head. To take his mind off of it, he looked back at his phone, thinking of y/n.

He did miss her. Nate knew he had been distant recently and that she worried about him. He felt awful when he thought too hard about it. Here his niece was, worrying about him, a grown man, the one who raised her, who should be worrying about her. It made him want to reach for a drink. The truth was, he didn’t worry about her. Not often anyway. She was every bit of her parents, something Nate was glad for. His older brother was always the better one, he thought. He would have never become… Never become what Nate had, under the circumstances. 

He didn’t know what y/n would think about what Nate was doing now. He didn’t want to leave her in the dark, they had always worked together through Nate’s changing careers and her own progression through life. He also knew that this work was dangerous. Nate winced as the stitches pulled a bit as he shifted. He didn’t want her to worry about him more, or worse, get caught up in it if she didn’t have to. 

Nate went to pour himself a drink before heading back to rest. He set his phone down at his bedside table, looking at it for a moment longer. 

He would find a way to tell her somehow.

—----

It was about a month later when I was getting ready for bed that I got an email to my personal account. I usually don’t check emails this late, but it was from Nate. 

Hey birdie, I know it’s late over there and you probably don’t want to work, but I have this script that I need to make sure is believable for an actress. Do you mind looking over it? 

Attached was a pretty large file. Opening it up showed that it was around ten pages and it held two scenes. He was right, I didn’t want to, but it was Uncle Nate asking a pretty small favor. I read it through and answered.

So… the scenes themselves are decent, good pacing. Leaving the boy orphaned with the nun and mother dying will be sure to pull some tears. But the overall plot? That’s just awful, I’m sorry. Not sure how you fix that. 

It wasn’t too long before I got a reply.

Good enough, thanks. 

I sighed as I finished getting ready for bed. I didn’t know what in the world he was doing anymore, but at least he was still alive. 

I had started to forget about the interaction when a few days later he called.

“Wow, I hear from you twice in one week? What’s the occasion?”

There was a lot of noise in the background indicating he was in a busy place, “Yeah yeah I just… I finished this job and was thinking about you, so I thought I’d call.”

I smiled, “Appreciated… Is that your job, fighting werewolves with NATO troops? Is that why it's so dangerous?”

He groaned, “Please don’t mention the script, I want to wipe that from my memory. It uh,” he paused, thinking and I could hear some background announcements like he was in an airport or train station. “I was able to help some orphans this job, and… I- I’m just glad that you were able to come live with me, that we had each other when. When your dad passed, and mom.”

I took a moment before answering, “Me too Nate…” 

There was a moment of silence when I heard a deeper voice a bit further away from the phone, “Nate, come on, we gotta catch our connection. Last call.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

He said a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. It seemed like his new job was exciting, and I was interested in seeing where it took him next… If I could ever figure out what it was. 

I started to look forward to his calls even more now, and they happened more frequently as well. I always speculated what little details he would drop about his most recent adventure, if he shared any at all. One call he talked about a wedding and the fiascos behind it, from a woman he worked with that seemed to peeve him at times to appetizers. He insisted that when I got married (after he asked if I wanted to) that he wouldn’t attend if it was going to be a large crap shoot like the one he was just involved with. I simply laughed, I didn’t interject more than that to ask him about it as he was in a rush and clearly exasperated. 

The next phone call mentioned the same woman, of whom I learned her name was Sophie. I could tell he was still a bit peeved at her, but there was something else there as well, an interest. I smiled to myself as he talked, but didn’t mention it… yet. There were so many other questions I had about what he was doing now. I finally pried a bit more.

“Nate, come on, you’ve got to give me something. What are you doing, what is this job you are working?”

He paused like he knew it was coming, but still not prepared, “I am the lead of a… consulting team. We help people when no one else will, when no one else can.”

“Well that’s very noble of you Nathan. I’m not getting any more than that right now am I?” I laughed a little bit towards the end. 

“Yeah, uh, that is it for now. I’ll tell you more about it some other time.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

The next call was not as cheerful or exciting as the previous ones. I was already coming down with a cold, and another project had hit a standstill because of the lack of cooperation of people within the client’s company. Much more of this and I would back out of the contract. Luckily my contract states that I will get paid for the work completed, not necessarily at completion, and if I have to cancel a contract due to certain circumstances such as lack of cooperation, I get to keep funds in relation to work completed as well as the deposit. In other words, it would be their loss. 

I could feel I was developing a headache, but I answered the phone anyway, “Hello?”

“Heyy, how’s it going? I um… I can’t remember why I called…” There was a slight slur in his voice that I immediately picked up on.

“Nate? Are you drunk right now?” I asked accusingly, my headache getting worse. 

“What? No… what time is it… maybe.”

I groaned, “Damn it… You said you were getting better. You said you would quit!”

“Hey, I never said that-”

“Am I gonna have to kick your ass to keep you around?”

There was a pause on the other end, “No, Eliot can do that, he said he would keep me in line if he had to.”

“Well…” I took a moment to collect my thoughts, “I don’t know who this Eliot character is, but hopefully he’s good on his word, cuz I don’t want to fly all the way out there for that. I’d rather you stick around for a while.”

“I know.”

I sighed knowing I wouldn’t get much farther with him right now, “Well, sober up a bit. I can’t handle much more right now Nate, I’m getting sick. We both better go get some rest.”

“You’re sick? I’ll ask around for some recipes to help you feel better.”

Before I could stop him and tell him don’t bother, he hung up. I sighed again, stopping to get my bearings before starting the trek to the bathroom to take some medicine. 

I had grown a bit lax on Nate with his drinking. I made sure he didn’t drink himself to death after Sam’s death and the divorce, but once he made it to somewhat functioning, I just grew tired. There wasn’t much else I could do, so I figured he could sort himself out when he needed to. That seemed to be the case over the last couple of months. I could tell in his phone calls as they became more frequent that he was drinking less and getting better. I had exaggerated a bit when I said he promised me he would quit. I wish I had made him promise, but I guess it was just a conversation and some hope on my end. 

I didn’t know the rest of his team, but I hoped they could help him, or at least keep him on this side of life. Or that he had someone to rely on out there. I felt useless here in Boston while he was out in LA. Maybe I should have moved out there when his life had gone down hill, despite his protests. I could theoretically work anywhere. 

I started to slip into sleep as I thought about it. I didn’t fight it.

The next morning I woke up to an email on my phone.

Hey, I’m sorry I called you while drunk. Eliot gave me some soup recipes, hopefully they will help with the cold. Feel better birdie.

Below were the recipes promised. I looked them over, and they all looked really good, and relatively simple to make. This was good as I could feel the congestion in my head was worse than the night before and knew simple would be essential to any new meal the next couple of days. I’d like to meet this Eliot someday. 

—---

Over a month later Nate sat in his chair, staring at the drink in his hand reflecting back to the last phone call he had with y/n. He was drunk, and she was clearly upset at him. He hated to admit it, but, while he didn’t want to worry her, he should have felt more guilty about it. For that reason he hasn’t talked to her since he sent that email with Eliot’s recipes. 

What an unfortunate coincidence it was when he had to go into rehab with the mark for the next job. His mind kept going back to the group session they had with Sophie talking about the healing power of apologies, or something like that. She asked him if there was anyone he wanted to apologize to for burdening with his drinking problem, highly suggesting to him that he apologize to her and the team. What really got him was when she mouthed the words “like your niece?” 

Maybe that’s why he blew up a little. He didn’t need her to be brought up. The fact that Sophie knew so much about him unnerved him sometimes. He thought he kept her underwraps, out of whatever mess Nate found himself in. He obviously needs to brush up on those skills.

—---

I got a somewhat urgent call from Nate, the first one since he called me drunk that night. I was gearing up for a serious talk about his drinking, boundaries, and whatnot. This did not seem to be the case. 

“You’ve done mock trials before right?”

That stopped me in my tracks, “in highschool? Yeah, but that was a long time ago, what is going on?”

He explained that he was in a similar situation with him and his team. The plaintiff was a widow whose husband died from taking an energy supplement. She was suing the supplement company, but was not doing well.

“How would you win for this widow?”

I took a moment to think it over, “I mean… You have your three persuasive techniques, logical, emotional, and reputation, to paraphrase. You can either tear down the company and their arguments on these fronts and slash or build up your own. I don’t know all the data behind the supplement or if you have health records for the husband before and after the supplement, but that could help. If you want to go the dirty route you can tear down the credibility of the company and their witnesses and experts…” I hummed and hawed for a bit, still thinking. “Also considering, if this is a jury trial, play into the emotional side, get their sympathy, show that it is someone’s fault that this husband, father? Is he a father? You know, etc etc. Just keep with the triangle, logic, emotion, and credibility. Not sure what else to give you without more research or context.”

I heard a distant voice that said, “That just might work,” suggesting to me that I was on speaker phone. 

Nate talked to this other guy, “see, just put on your bowtie and talk to them like you’ve been doing your whole life.” He turned back to the phone and spoke to me, “That’s perfect, thank you, bye.”

He hung up and I just stared at the phone in my hand. What kind of consulting business is this?

I got a call I wasn’t expecting one day from someone I haven’t heard from in a long time. 

“Hey y/n, how have you been?”

“Maggie? I’ve been fine, just working freelancing… What’s up?” While she and Nate have been divorced for a couple of years now, she still played a role in my life as an aunt. We definitely drifted apart, but I thought we were both dear to each other. 

“That’s good, I’m glad you’ve been doing okay. I do have a favor to ask you though.”

“Okay… What is it?”

“I’d imagine it’s been a while since either of us have gone to a fancy party… What do you say?”

I hated to say it, but she was right. “Tell me when and where.”

[twostepstyless]

Stuffing the Turkey

Fic Advent Calendar Day 15

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Authors Note: Harry and Y/N host an annual friendsmas but there's one guest missing this year and Y/N is already stressing about hosting Christmas Day for their families this year.

As always, reblogs, likes and feedback of any variety is always encouraged and forever appreciated - G <3

Word Count: 2.3k

SFW

———

The saying goes, ‘if you can’t take the heat then get out of the kitchen,’ but that can be hard to do when you’re supposed to be in the kitchen preparing a meal for what was supposed to be eleven people, but Harry just dropped the bomb that it was actually going to be twelve people. He decided to tell her that this morning, not last week when he found about the additional person, who was apparently his mate Johnny’s new girlfriend. What is it with men and not seeing any rush in passing on information? Harry and Y/N were one wrong look or one more reproachful comment away from a full-blown argument at this point. 'Friendsmas' started on their second Christmas as a couple. Members of their individual friend group had met and gotten along extraordinarily well over the 18 months or so they had been together at the time and so came the idea to host a Christmas dinner and bring all their friends together for an evening and the tradition stuck. 

This was the fifth year of Friendsmas. The cast of visitors rotated year to year, additional people brought in from making friends while working, friends from elsewhere who happened to be passing through London before Christmas, some people skipped a year for other commitments, some friends from their hometowns who came down for the event especially. No matter who was coming, they usually had a house full of people. Regular attendees included Mitch and Sarah who spent some time in the U.K. with her family before Christmas so always popped in for the free meal, and to see Harry in his frilly apron. Y/N’s childhood best friend, Audrey, also attended every single year. Well, apart from this year, she told Y/N a few weeks ago that she had a work deadline and unavoidable meeting the day of the dinner and to say that Y/N was devastated was an understatement. Y/N wouldn’t even be travelling to her hometown over Christmas this year, so she didn’t know when she’d get to see Audrey next. Her missing Audrey didn’t disguise how fuming she was at Harry though. 

“I don’t even know if we have enough to feed an extra person,” Y/N sighed, exasperated. 

“Don’t start with that, y’know we have more than enough, we’re usually eating leftovers until Christmas,” Harry shot back while stirring the soup they had simmering away on the stove top, “Christ, y’could’ve chopped the veg a little smaller, love, it’s taking ages to soften,” Harry said, he thought innocently but it sounded as if he was criticising her work, while peering into the bubbling pot. 

Y/N’s head snapped round to glare at the back of his head, “I’d have liked to have even seen you pick up a knife to chop the veg, love.”

“Eh, excuse me, I sorted out all the main course options, did I not?” Harry abandoned the simmering soup to turn around, looking comical with his hands on his hips clad in his red gingham apron that was decorated with frills and ruffles. 

“Oh please, you took everything out the packaging and stuck it in the oven and the slow cooker,” Y/N rolled her eyes, going back to her task of slicing carrots and parsnips to go with the main course. 

“I had my hand up that turkey’s arsehole, stuffing it for you because it makes you feel sick, I don’t even eat turkey and I still done it, so don’t give me that,” Harry retorted, he watched her back as he saw her head bow down and heard a sigh escape her lips, “want t’tell me the real reason you’re all grumpy, hm?” 

“M’not grumpy,” Y/N turned in her seat to look at him, sounding very grumpy. He walked over to where she was sat preparing the vegetables at the table in the kitchen and he perched on the edge of the table.

“Sure, you’re not,” he said sarcastically, before his tone softened when he saw her expression, she looked weary, for lack of a better word. “Hey, c’mon pretty, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just stressed about the dinner,” Y/N muttered, dropping the paring knife she was using onto the cutting board and began playing with a loose thread on her jumper, avoiding his gaze, embarrassed she had been quite rude to him. 

“Why? This is not our first rodeo with having everyone round for this dinner, we’ve been doing it five years now, I think we’ve got it down to a fine art by now,” Harry looked bemused, they really did have a good system going for preparing for tonight, but one thing after another seemed to irritate each other and cause things to go wrong. 

“It’s not this dinner I’m stressed about,” she whispered. 

Harry placed his hand under chin and moved her head, so she was finally looking at him, “explain please,” he gently coaxed. 

“Christmas Day dinner,” Y/N stated, as Harry’s eyes searched hers, “it’s just we’re having both our families here for the first time for Christmas day and I know we usually help out if we’re at m’parents or your mums, but we’re doing everything this year, and tonight jus’ feels like a practice run and we keep arguing and making mistakes and what if we ruin everyone’s Christmas and I don’t want us to fight on Christmas either,” Y/N spilled out, chin quivering with emotion as her lips settled in a downturned expression. 

“Okay, first of all,” Harry said as he crouched down in front of her, so he was perched just under her eyeline, as he held onto her clasped hands that were sat in her lap, “we’re not arguing, have we said some comments that have annoyed the other? Yeah, but m’not angry or upset with you and we’re not going to argue on Christmas either,” Harry said with a sort of finality in his voice, as Y/N nodded, she knew it was just her mind racing away on her that was causing all these thoughts. “Secondly, nothing has went wrong today, we’ve went a long way for a short cut, but nearly everything is prepped, it’s just the case of putting it in the oven at the right time, isn’t it?” his thumbs rubbed slow circles onto her hands. 

“Yeah,” Y/N looked around their busy kitchen, as much as they had had their moments today, Harry was right, everything was ready, just about, Y/N was in the process of finishing up the vegetables and everything they could have done was finished. 

“Right see, we’ve got it down to an art, and on Christmas Day, we’re just going to do an exact repeat of what we did today, it’ll all be muscle memory,” he reassured her before a grin took over his face, “and it’s our family. D’you really think they’d sit by and let us do everything, my mum will have her hand up that turkey before she’s even taken her coat off,” Harry laughed. 

“I’m being mental, aren’t I?” Y/N asked.

“Not mental, y’just care about making it perfect for everyone,” he smiled, pressing up on his feet to give her a soft kiss she happily returned, “an’ m’sorry for not telling you about us having an extra guest until this morning, I just didn’t think.” 

“No, you’re right, we always have a tonne of extra food, we could have four extra people show up and still have leftovers, think I just woke up stressed and took it out on you, I’m sorry,” she broke one of her hands free to run it through his hair that he had left loose and wild on top of his head, “and thank you,” she trailed off. 

“S’okay, m’heart,” he forgave her, “why are y’saying thank you?” he quizzed. 

“Thank you for sticking your hand up the turkey to stuff it ‘cause y’know it makes me feel gross, even though I accused you of not doing anything,” she smiled softly. 

“I’d stick my hand up a hundred turkeys if you needed me too,” Harry chuckled, “now why don’t y’go get washed up and changed for people coming, I’ll finish these up,” he nodded to the half-prepared tray of vegetables.

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely, go get even prettier, though I’m still not sure that’s physically possible,” Harry flirted before pulling her to her feet and sending her on her way out of the kitchen with a pat to her bum. 

*** 

The dining table was lit by the soft light of the dinner candles that were in the centre of the table and decorated other surfaces around the room, the glow making the glassware sparkle and cutlery gleam in the light. The couple had gotten their posh crockery, cutlery, and glassware out for their soiree, and had the table decorated with heavy cloths, ornate napkin rings and a Christmas cracker placed at every setting. The room was buzzing with chatter and laughter, as they all shared a drink before their meal, taking the time to catch up with all their guests. There was still one seat empty though, Johnny’s new girlfriends place. Y/N thought it was strange that he showed up without her but no one else seemed to voice it, so she paid it no mind. Harry had donned his frilly apron again, this time over his cream suit he wore for the evening, rather than the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants look he wore earlier. He was popping in and out the room as he made sure everything was coming along for their first course as he forced Y/N to sit down and have a glass of wine with everyone before she got up to help him. As she was hearing a story from one of Harry’s friends from home about their staff Christmas night out where the boss got so drunk, they had to send a companywide apology email the next morning, the doorbell rang. 

“Y/N/N, can you get the door, love, I’m just starting to plate up,” Harry called through from the kitchen. 

“Got it! Johnny, it must be your missus, y’want to come get the door?” Y/N asked leaning over the table to catch his attention. 

“No, it’s okay Y/N, I’ll be here,” Johnny said, there was a hint of something strange in his tone and in the expression on his fence as Y/N looked confused before leaving the room to get the door when the bell rang again. 

“Weird,” she muttered under her breath before her hand grasped the door handle and twisted, opening the heavy, wooden door. 

There was a woman, her back turned to Y/N, she had a thick, woollen, pink coat on, and her hair fell down her back. Very familiar hair at that, “hi, welcome, come on i-” Y/N cut herself off as the woman turned round. “Audrey?” Y/N gasped, as her best friend twisted round to face her with a grin so wide that it could split the sky in two graced her face. 

“The one and only, in the flesh. Hiya babes,” Audrey held her arms out to her sides as if to present herself before Y/N flung herself out the front door into her friends awaiting embrace. 

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” Y/N squealed, bouncing the two women up and down as she kept her grip around her friend’s middle. She broke away, eyeing her friend with the same earth-shattering smile. 

“Ask y’fella,” Audrey nodded behind Y/N as Y/N unlatched herself from Audrey to turn round to see Harry leaning against the open doorway, arms crossed, tea towel slung over his shoulder, a fond smile on his face, that made his dimple appear, etched onto his face as he watched the two friends reunite. “I genuinely wasn’t going to make it, Harry called me last week to double check, but he phoned about two minutes after I got an email saying the meeting was cancelled and the deadline pushed to the new year. Mr. Man over there snapped his fingers and here I am, and I’m bloody starving, hope you’ve got enough,” Audrey said, sarcastic in her last sentence, knowing they always made far too much. 

“Look at you two scheming behind m’back,” Y/N’s eyes flitted between Audrey and Harry as she led Audrey into the house, taking her coat off her to put away. 

“Happy I didn’t tell you about our extra guest, now?” Harry whispered in Y/N’s ear as Audrey knelt to pet Harry and Y/N’s dog, Vinnie, who was loving all the extra attention from the guests in their home, he had only just removed himself from lying under the dining table so he could meet the new visitor at the door. 

“Best surprise,” Y/N reached up to kiss his lips briefly, “thank you, that’s you got all the brownie points today, got m’best friend here and had your hand up the turkey’s arsehole, y’like Prince Charming,” she giggled against his lips before kissing him again. 

“Shall we get this thing going, first course is ready, m’love,” Harry broke away as he began to walk back to the kitchen with her following to help him. 

“Let’s do it,” Y/N said confidently, “Audrey, go take a seat, y’next to me and H,” she smiled at her friend before pausing, “wait, y’not actually Harry’s mate Johnny’s missus, are you?”

“Never even met the fella, but by the end of the night and a few glasses of the good stuff,” she raised the glass of wine Harry had given her up to Y/N as she stood in the doorway of the dining room, “who knows?” she shrugged with a wink before disappearing into the rabble of their friends that filled their dining room as their laughter filled the room and coloured their home with joy. 

———

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[goodluckclove]

Writer ask game, let's go. 10, 19, 38, and 39 please c:<

Shit. Oh shit, oh fuck.

Okay yeah let's do this, Mushy.

10. Do you set yourself deadlines?

I mean I definitely used to. I've said before that I got my start in National Novel Writing in a Month, or NaNoWriMo, where you write 50k words in 30 days. The org has since proven itself to be less than reputable with its recent scandal, but I still stand by the belief that endurance sprints like that are a great way to get the muscle formed to write long-form projects. And you can just do it too, you don't need the backing of a semi-scammy nonprofit.

But now? Not really. I kind of set goals to keep work moving. I'll be like hope I finish editing by the end of this week. But I very rarely make it a hard deadline with actual...I don't know. Stakes? My brain don't work like that.

19. How do you keep yourself motivated?

I stand by the methodology of giving yourself a little reward after writing sessions, although at this point I space mine out more than I would suggest newer writers to. For me this is usually a fun drink or nice little baked good - I'm especially fond of what I refer to as a medium-fancy cake. Something with mousse. But it can be anything really.

Small breaks also help, although I am less good at keeping up with that. I actually haven't taken a full day off in like three weeks but shh don't tell anyone. I'm also very fond of reading over what I've already written and just enjoying it. Or reading books that relate to my character's interests - I'm reading a very interesting book on bird lore that I know Edgar from Songbird Elegies would love.

38. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

My weirdest play is probably Naked Lunch: The Musical, which follows a happy-go-lucky, classic musical lover who gets roped into adapting the essentially grindhouse experimental William S. Burroughs novel into a musical and goes a little insane in the process. He imagines himself befriending the ghost of William S. Burroughs, and the ghosts convinces him that to adapt his work properly he needs to do a lot of drugs and have a lot of gay sex, both of which go very poorly. I think Lin Manuel Miranda is mentioned as an unseen side character that my protagonist sees in the audience and threatens to beat up?

And my weirdest novel turned play is Bloodletting, which is based from a dream I had when I was detoxing off of weed - I was like addicted, not a casual stoner. I essentially dreamt that someone made me drink their blood and the blood got me high again, and from that point I developed a sort of sci-fi world where street drugs are so potent that they turn the blood of addicts into a new intoxicant that they can then sell as its own drug. I think they can also sell their blood to major medical organizations and have it used in pharmaceuticals. I still like this concept and might reuse it since I can't find the finished play it turned into.

39. Weirdest character concept you’ve ever had

Bloodletting had a romantic couple made up of a drug dealer and the AI house he was squatting in. My second novel had a leitmotif of the characters experiencing a feeling of "static" in their heads that I later on made into a sentient side character. I think I wrote a short play with a cannibalistic Guy Fieri. I started writing another play based around Sonic the Hedgehog where it was planned for Shadow to non-ironically become a rabbi, but frankly if you consider his character I do not think that's too far from canon.

I'm still percolating a project to do either alongside or after Songbird that's like Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City but with an all-robot cast. And the main character eventually transitions from a human-passing robot to some form of non-human looking machine and is much happier for it. Which I'm excited to put to paper.

[fairytaleinagem]

currently dying of "creativity under my skin but no motivation in my soul" disease, anyways here's a short story and a new divider! testing smth out for my post aesthetics

TW: SMOKING (though not very detailed)

Despite the looming deadline of another report of Zenith's progress (both in skill and memory recovery), Andrei couldn't help but stop at the sound of laughter, raucous and echoing from one of the various rooms within the Training District. His brows furrowed. For once, he wanted to join in. To smoothly enter whatever conversation was happening and to laugh with others. Make them laugh, maybe. God, wouldn't that be a shift in energy? Something that many of the others say he lacks.

And that urge is probably why he found himself walking into a room, peeking around the corner to see those who were scheduled to tutor Zenith today; Aeva, Akina, and Marcelo. It was more likely that they volunteered—they were always around the kid, flocking around them like moths to a lamp. That, and their evident skill of melee and physical attacks. Zenith had yet to fully take down Marcelo, but they have proven themself to be a quick learner, lasting longer and longer each fight that was initiated. They might even be able to move up to Aeva's level soon.

"Researcher Andrei. Were we too loud again?" a flat voice snapped him out of his slight daze, and he found himself wondering when he had walked right up to the four, standing behind them with his arms crossed. Zenith stared at him, dark green eyes staring into his own green ones.

"Oh, Andrei! Didn't notice you were around the District! What's up, man?" Marcelo greeted, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he wrapped a slightly sweaty arm around his shoulders. He grimaced at the feeling of fabric being dampened by it, but he shook it off like he shrugged off Marcelo's arm.

"I was on my way to send in a report, but you seem particularly joyous today. Any reason for that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, looking at Akina for an answer.

"Hah! We're just teaching Zen to axe throw! And suffice to say, they're doing a great job at it!" she exclaims, a sunny grin on her face. It matches Marcelo's, and soon Aeva's face begins to shine with a similarly bright smile.

"Hell yeah they are. Pretty sick at aiming, I'd say. Almost better than I am," Aeva said, punching Zenith's arm with a wink. A short, nervous chuckle leaves them, and Andrei could almost feel the sharp pain that definitely goes through their arm.

"Hm. Mind if you show me?"

A possible update to the report that was due soon—he was glad that he tends to write notes as he goes, he couldn't imagine the stress that would be coursing through his veins if he didn't.

Zenith nods, hefting an axe nearby with two hands, before walking a bit away from the group. They stand a few feet away from the target board, and a dense aura of immediate focus and calculation rippled throughout the air, entering Andrei's head. A familiar feeling.

"The use of a Special Skill?" he muttered, brows furrowing as he noted it down in the holographic report. This new development could help lead towards finding an identity match for Zenith—something the Conglomerate has been waiting on for weeks. Impatient bastards. It was also an update on their progress. Signs of a Special Skill could help progress them even further than they were originally! The four watched as the axe was thrown, landing directly in the middle.

Bullseye.

Aeva, Akina, and Marcelo cheered, rushing over to jostle the poor kid around. They cheered and laughed, much like they did earlier when he was merely passing by.

Despite his stable position as a researcher and Epitome within the Company, Andrei couldn't help but feel…hurt. Something inside him ached. His arms twitched as he barely suppressed the urge to jump on the four in a giant hug, no matter if three of them were much taller than he was. With clenched fists, he begins to back away. Back out of the room. Out of the identical white hallways that were beginning to become blurry, and out of the nearly never ending Training District entirely. By the time he stepped foot inside the Residential District, the ache had grown into something terrible. His lungs stuttered as he Flicked into his room, and he could barely feel the fabric of the bed that he fell into. There was no telling how long he laid there, eyes wide with an emotion that was entirely new to him. No. He knew what it was. What was it doing within him? Poisoning his mind, so quickly and quietly?

A dizzying sit-up later, he yanked the bedside drawer open, fingers fumbling as he nearly dropped the box of Vigorettes and lighter. He pulled a Vigorette out and lit it, inhaling the smoke as quickly as he could.  He nearly choked on it. The uncharacteristic panic smoothed out into a careless daze the longer he smoked.

Maybe this is why the others said he had no energy. It was all put into throwing away any feeling anything other than peace.

Only the faint purple light of the Vigorette flame and dark blue of the report lit up his room. He sent both away with a wave of a hand, before landing back into the soft pillows of his bed.

[ikemen-translations]

Morganatic Idol Prologue 3/10

MC: Ugh... I'm sleepy... I stayed up all night

(However, I managed to write the proposal by the deadline)

(All I have to do is submit this...!)

MC: Mori-san! I have created a proposal for a new commercial so please check it out

Mori: Oh, you made it too?

Mori flipped through the proposal I handed her

Mori: ... It's surprisingly well shaped

MC: Yes, I came up with my own idea to convey the charm of perfume to the fullest

MC: It's a big project that will be broadcast to the world but I would like to take on the challenge to improve my own abilities

Mori: ... that's right. Well, this time anyone can submit a project

Mori: But it's too late. It's better to submit it sooner rather than just before the deadline. All full-time employees did that

MC: I'm so sorry...

Mori: Well, that's fine. i'll submit this to the section manager

MC: Thank you!

(I put all my efforts into the proposal. I hope it goes well)

A few days have passed since then. There is a nervous and restless atmosphere within the company

(I wonder what happened to my project... I can't help but wonder... but for now I have no choice but to wait)

After the lunch break when I returned to the office, my team members were chatting in the corner of the room

FE1: I wonder whose project will be chosen?

FE2: It would be great if it was someone from our team. Maybe we could get closer to Exe

They were so absorbed talking that they didn't even notice my return

FE1: Come to think of it, MC-san also submitted a plan, right?

(!)

Mori: Yes, it was on the last minute

FE2: Is it because the Exes are the image characters after all?

FE3: I was so excited because I wanted to meet a super idol!

... My heart made a disgusting sound at the words I heard

FE1: There's no way a project created by a temporary employee with no experience would be selected, Eiko

Mori: Yeah, no matter how hard she try she can't beat us

MC: ...

(No, I didn't try my best because an idol was involved)

I grasp my palms tightly

(... But I have to be patient. It's true that I have no experience and these people and I are in very different positions)

I notice that the full-time girls looked down on me because I was a temporary worker

(It can't be helped...)

Even though I knew it in my head, I was filled with regret

(Let's get some air outside)

I quietly left the office to freshen up

Manager: Hey, Mori-kun!

Mori: Chief? What's wrong?

Manager: Your department's project will be used in the competition! It's a great honot to be chosen out of all the companies!

Manager: Look, this is it. It's the project you submitted just before the deadline

Mori: It's...!

Chief: The presentation will be giving soon. Please brush up on this project by then. Can you do it?

Mori: ...

FE1: Hey, hey, that plan...

Mori: Yes! Let's work together as a team!

Manager: You said it! Now, I'm going to go right away and report to the chief that you will be in charge

Mori: ...

FE1: That plan is.. MC's...

Mori: ... Our team submitted it, so it's our plan

Mori: It's impossible for a kid with no exprience to do such a big job. Isn't that right?

FE1: Oh, that's right

FE2: Yes, she is inexperienced after all

Mori: That's it. Come on, let's get to work. It's going to be busy!

A few days later. That day, the office was hectic since the morning

I was told only that we had a visitor and was sent shopping without any explanation

MC: Haa... I finally finished... It's heavy

I'm exhausted from carrying so many coffee pots and boxes of sweets

(Teito Hotel's high-class tea and sweets set and the cafe's most expensive hot coffee)

(Even though the company already has things for guests, why bother to prepare new ones? I wonder if there will be any special people coming today)

MC: Anyway, I have to get back to the office soon... Whaat!?

Suddenly, someone bumped into me from the side. My body staggered and I almost fell.

MC: Kyaa...!

I closed my eyes unconsciously

But... before I could fall to the ground, strong arms grabbed me

(... who?)

When I opened my eyes in fear...

Xeno: ...

What was in front of me were cold, emotionless eyes...

He has an overwhelming presence that cannot be mistaken

Exe Creed Xeno is staring at me

Previous / Next

[forjongseong]

night night // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader

genre: office!au, fluff // warning: none at all // wc: ~1.2k

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo part 5 - tusa part 5.5 - apaga y vámonos part 6 - versos de placer minisode part 1 - cuando nadie ve part 6.5 - yo te quiero más minisode part 2 -la niña de mis ojos part 7 - aeropuerto minisode part 3 - falling autumn

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: you had piles of documents to review and an important presentation to make for an upcoming meeting. naturally, the best solution you came up with was to invite your secretary to work with you at home.

author’s notes: minisode part 4 except this takes part within Part 1 (after Jay learned how to do his job properly, but BEFORE the two started sleeping together!) also take a shot everytime I say PART so please don't get confused!

as for part 8, stay tuned because I am 8k words in, and if all goes well and I reach 10k soon, I will then post it! are you ready for some jealousy, jealousy?

taglist: @jaylaxies @thots4hee @nyanggk @end-hyphen @jayked @yoursjaeyun

(those who have not been interacting with the series have been removed from the taglist. send in an ask if you want to stay in it.)

“Park, can you pass me the red Sharpie?”

You had your head deep in papers when you said this, but when you heard no reply, you looked up.

“Park? Oh my god.”

Your personal assistant was with you for the night to go over documents and plan the presentation for an important meeting you had in two days. However, he had fallen asleep on top of his pile of papers, his head tilted to the right and his pen still uncapped.

“You’re gonna dry my Sharpie…” You reached over the coffee table and put the cap on Jay’s pen, which, by surprise, woke him up. You quickly pulled your hand towards yourself.

Jay blinked a couple of times before yawning and then stretching, then looking at you. His eyes were met with your piercing stares.

“How long was I asleep for?”

“You tell me.”

Jay sighed and tidied up the piles of papers around him. He touched the mouse and his laptop turned back on, showing the presentation file he was working on. He looked over to your side of the table, you were already halfway done with reviewing.

“I don’t get it,” Jay’s voice croaked.

“What?” You answered while typing on your phone.

“You take pride in how you do stuff. You always finish things quickly. Speed is like… your thing. So why are you now pushing everything to the deadline and making me do half the work?”

You scribbled a note on a document and made a proud smile before looking at Jay. “You just answered your own question.”

You thought Jay’s eyes couldn’t get any smaller, but they did, squinting at you.

“I have you now, so I’m slacking off a bit.”

Jay felt a sense of injustice, but his barely offended feelings were clouded by your first few words.

I have you now.

“Gonna go make a hot drink, what do you want?” Jay stood up before you could spot his cheeks turning slightly red.

“There’s a fresh box of Vanilla Bourbon tea in the top cupboard. Boil water in my most used teapot, it’s by the sink, and the cups…”

“Are in the shelf by the fridge. I got it, Boss. It’s not my first time here.”

You chuckled. “I forgot you basically live here.”

Jay cleared his throat. “Speaking of that…”

“No, you may not actually live here, Park.”

Jay stared into your eyes, trying his best to make his eyes look bigger like that one puppy-eyed emoji he always used since you told him he looked like it. You were unfazed.

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” Jay shrugged. You shook your head as you scoffed and went back to reviewing documents. It took a while for Jay to finish preparing drinks and by the time he went back to his place, you were doodling on a blank piece of paper.

“You’re done?” Jay asked in a genuinely surprised tone.

You nodded. “I take pride in my speed, remember.”

Jay placed two mugs of tea in the middle of the coffee table. You pulled your mug towards your side. Jay sat down and blew on his tea.

“Can I finish mine tomorrow morning? I’m too unmotivated to do it now.”

You squinted your eyes. “You’re my assistant, you’re supposed to be more diligent.”

“Come on, please?” Jay had always thought of himself as a cool guy, but for some reason, in some cases, he’s willing to throw that image away and replace it with something cuter. Like what he was doing right now. You were having none of it.

“You know what,” you turned on your TV and opened YouTube. “I’ve got something that might wake us up other than this cup of tea.”

Jay watched as you typed in the search bar. “The… Fitness… Marshall?” he asked.

You came back to your spot with a wide smile and set your drink on the table. You made Jay do the same before you told him to stand up. Was it because of habit, or because he just respects you so much, Jay did as he was told.

The TV started blaring loud sounds.

“Arm to the right,” said the guy on TV.

You followed the movements. Jay just stared at the screen.

“Park, come on!”

“Left side, three times fast!”

The intro of Taki Taki played and the beat was about to drop. Jay made sure to move the coffee table a little further so the two of you have more space.

“Clean the window!” yelled the man on TV.

You calmly followed the steps while Jay burst out laughing. He was amazed at how you were totally in the zone and only made a slight smirk instead of completely losing it like he was.

“Keep on going!” you said, encouragingly.

After a rather chaotic dance workout session—with Jay knocking off a pile of papers from the table, you accidentally slapping Jay in his tiddies, and him almost faceplanting on the floor—the two of you sat down with your legs stretched out to the front.

Jay was still laughing and you were catching your breath as you stopped the YouTube playlist from autoplaying.

“I hope that woke you up,” you said, looking at Jay.

Jay shook his head trying to get rid of the sweat dripping down his face. “That was oddly intense and tiring.”

“It’s my favorite thing to do now.”

“I can see why.”

You laughed as you just remembered the funny parts a minute ago. Jay lied down on the floor and just seconds after, you came back with a clean towel that you threw on Jay’s face.

“Ow?”

“You can go shower in my bathroom. The guest bathroom is being torn apart.”

Jay grabbed the towel from his face and looked at you. “Aren’t you gonna shower first?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t sweat much and it’s gonna take longer if I go first, so you go.”

“Okay, Boss,” Jay quickly disappeared and you sat yourself down beside the pile of papers.

After an hour or so, of Jay taking a 10-minute shower and you spending almost 40 minutes, you two were back to work. At one point, Jay was the one who had to keep you awake as you mentioned that having taken a bath and being clean made you feel sleepy as opposed to feeling refreshed.

When you finally woke up from your sleep, having no idea how long you were out, you noticed that Jay completed his part and was now on the sofa, hugging your Siberian Husky plushie, seemingly deep asleep. You checked the time and went inside your bedroom before going out and placing a blanket over Jay.

You observed Jay’s peaceful face. His breath was steady and he didn’t snore at all. Strands of hair were being tucked the wrong way so you reached out to fix it very carefully, afraid of waking him up. He didn’t, though.

“Night night, Park,” you said under your breath. You turned off the lights, leaving the one in the kitchen on so that it was dark enough to sleep comfortably but bright enough to see if one wakes up.

As you closed the door to your bedroom, Jay’s eyes opened. He hugged the husky plushie tighter and shifted, also while burying himself properly under the blanket.

“Night night, Boss.”

-END-

© forjongseong 2022, all rights reserved

read the next chapter: ambulancia

[aandvarchaeology]

How-To Presentation

Imagine this: It's the first year of university. You, a bright-eyed and bushy tailed freshman, riding on the high of having declared your major and successfully defending it in the face of well-meaning relatives ("Oh, I did Archaeology for a few semesters when I was at uni, before I came to my senses. Are you sure you don't want to be a business major? Or maybe pre-law, you were always so good at arguing - ") have just sat down in your very first seminar. The professor walks in, spends an hour going over the syllabus, and then announces that to pass the class, everyone will have to hold a 30 min presentation on a pre-determined topic. You can feel your stomach sinking somewhere below your knees. A cold chill grips you. You hate public speaking and the longest you've ever had to talk in front of the class in high school was 10 minutes. What do you do now??!

Well, you click on the read more.

Step 1: Don't panic. Let's get an overview of your topic and make a plan.

WHEN TO DO THIS: Same week as you got your presentation topic

First things first, as soon as you get your presentation topic and your deadline, even if that deadline is 8 weeks from now, IMMEDIATELY hop on your computer and get yourself some literature. There are some topics that are so well-researched and well-published you can walk into any library and immediately find 12 sources, and then there are topics that you have to special order books that went out of print in 1945 for. You do not know what kind of topic your topic is until you go to the library, and special ordering books takes time, sometimes A LOT of time. FINDING these books also takes a lot of time. So always make sure you HAVE the time to do this! A good starting point to have ist 2-5 books (depending on availability) with your presentation topic directly in the title.

If you have absolutely no idea whatsoever what your topic even IS, go to Wikipedia. DO NOT use Wikipedia as a source. You're going to read the article, find out what your topic is about, and then go to the list of sources at the bottom and get THOSE from the library. If you can't find anything other than those, or if your topic doesn't HAVE a Wikipedia article, go see your professor during their office hours. Do this NOW, not two weeks before the presentation. If your professor is sick, write them an e-mail NOW and go ask your TA. You need to make sure they can see you did your best to find stuff early on - if something goes wrong, profs are a lot more likely to give you extra credit or be extra nice with your grade if you have a paper trail proving you tried to resolve any issues you had early on. They won't be able to help you anymore two days before the presentation.

As soon as you have your 2-5 books, you sit down and just flip through them. Skim whatever catches your eye, look at pictures and graphs, read the table of contents. This is going to give you an idea on how much you actually have to stress about your research. Are all your books really old and super thin? Bad sign. Did you immediately find tons of books published in the last 10 years and those bitches THICC? You can probably relax a little. Then, as you're skimming, you're going to form a very rough idea what your topic is about. Things to look out for are:

How complex is your topic? The broader and less specific, the more research you're likely to have to do (example: If your topic is "The late middle ages", good luck. If your topic is "Burg Eltz during the late middle ages" you're going to have it a lot easier.)

What time period are you in? Always know your backround!

What is the state of research? Look out for things that should be there but aren't!

Is there some kind of controversy going on? Do some sources contradict each other?

Now you know a little bit about your topic, and can plan for the following things:

How many more sources are you going to need?

How long until you have those sources in your actual hands or on your actual computer?

How much research are you going to have to put into this?

Step 2: Initial research and structure

WHEN TO DO THIS: Within the week you got your hands on your sources.

If you've completed Step 1, your should have an initial list of sources. Pick the most general of those babies, turn to a relevant chapter, and get excerpting.

Q: How do I find the most general source?

A: The most general source is the one that goes into least detail while giving the broadest range of information. A good place to start are dictionary entries (make sure you're using a dictionary relevant to you subject, not the Encyclopedia Britannica...) or books with something like "introduction to..." or "overview of..." in the title. When in doubt, look at the table of contents!

If you're presenting to something very Basic™ at the beginning of your university career, your professor or TA will most likely have provided you with a list of "basic literature" for your course or subject. Look to these. If your topic is more complex, a good way to determine if a source is what you're looking for is reading the introduction chapter of your book and seeing if you recognise things you need.

Q: How do I indentify a relevant chapter?

A: Use your logic. If your presentation topic is late medieval castles, and your book covers castles of all time periods, you don't need the chapters talking about early- and high medieval castles, or post-medieval fortresses. DO NOT read the whole book. Skip everything you don't need. If you're reading a relevant chapter and the author starts talking about things you don't need to know, flip ahead until they do.

Q: What is excerpting?

A: This.

Image description in alt text.

You're going to write down the title of your source and you're immediately going to write that down in the citation style it has to be in for your presentation. Highlight it to make it easier to find later. Then you're going to write down all relevant information and the page number you found it on, and everything you're too lazy to summarize in your own words you're going to copy down directly in quotation marks. The quotation marks are important - you need to know when to say you're quoting someone directly in your presentation. I know this looks like a fuck ton of work, and it is. But it's going to do these things for you that make it absolutely worth it:

You're going to remember A LOT more of the information

You're going to be able to bring the book back to the library on time (pro tip: Also immediately scan relevant pictures)

You're going to be able to just copy-paste the already correctly cited title into your list of sources

When you're writing your presentation notes you're not going to have to flip through the whole book in search of the one bit of information you vaguely remember. You can just print out your document, highlight what you need, and have it there in one look.

In my experience, doing excerpts saves you about three to five days of work, spares you an unholy amount of frustration, and makes it A LOT easier to not accidentally plagiarize because you wrote down something and forgot it was a word-for-word quote.

As soon as you worked through your general source(s), you can structure your presentation. For Archaeology presentations, there is a general formula you can usually follow that looks roughly like this:

1. Introduction

2. Main Part: Your Topic Goes Here

2.1 History of research for your topic

2.2 General information: What time is your topic in, what are important monuments or finds, what is your topic exactly

2.3 All the information you have if your topic is very narrow (a certain type of pot, a single monument, whatever) or one or more examples if your topic is very broad (a prehistoric culture, a type of wide-spread monument, a time period)

3. Conclusion. This is the place to either summarize, bring in your own opinion, or go into detail about a controversy surrounding your topic

Find out how you want to structure your presentation (maybe this isn't the way to do it! Adjust to your topic!) and what examples you want to show. If this part is giving you trouble, e-mail your TA or your professor or visit them during office hourse. Again, do this IN TIME. The earlier, the better, AT LEAST two weeks before your presentation, better WAY before that.

If you find you need to special order sources from your library, now is the time to do that. If you're smart, you might want to make a list of all sources you can find that could be relevant to your topic while you're at it.

Step 3: The whole body of research

WHEN TO DO THIS: Depends on the length of your presentation and the complexity of your research. A minimum of 2 weeks before you have to present for a 25-30 min presentation. The busier your schedule, the more sources you have, and the longer your presentation should be, the earlier.

So, now that you know how you're going to structure your presentation, you know what you need to research and what to leave out. Go through your initial list of sources and determine if they are still relevant, now that you know what you're looking for. Identify what informations that you want to put in your presentation are missing from your sources, and find sources that are about them. If you were really smart you already did this after you structured your presentation and now just have to pick books out of a list.

As soon as you have your sources, work through them by excerpting just like you did with your overview literature. Do this from most to least relevant source, in case you misjudged your speed and have to leave out a source. Make sure to always note your page number and immediately copy out relevant graphics!

Step 4: Your presentation slides

WHEN TO DO THIS: The week before your presentation. If you don't want to spend a whole day on this start around 5-4 days before your deadline at the latest and do a few slides at a time.

If your prof gave you a guide for PowerPoint presentations - find that. Use that. Copy the structure of your presentation that you made in Step 2, add your pictures that you already copied out into your excerpting document, and cite them according to the style your professor wants them to be in. If you already did this in your excerpting document like I told you to, this should just be a matter of copy and paste. Don't forget to add your list of sources at the end!

This is also the step where we start thinking about time. A good rule of thumb is that you should have one slide in your presentation for every two minutes of talking. I like to add a few more, because I also always have a title slide, a structure slide, and a list of sources slide, and I don't spend 2 minutes on "Hello everybody, my topic is [x]!".

As soon as you have your slides in about the number you think you need, talk through your presentation OUT LOUD and time yourself. Just say what you remember. If you're more than 5 minutes under target, you need one more slide for every two minutes you're under. If you're more than 2-3 minutes over target, consider what information is actually important to your topic, and try again, leaving everything out everything not relevant, until you land within 2-3 minutes of your target time.

Step 5: Presentation notes and practicing

WHEN TO DO THIS: The day before your presentation at the latest, better 2-3 days before. Your brain is better at memorizing things if you're not stressed out of your mind!

Now that you're reasonably sure you're on your target, time wise, it's time to make your presentation notes. This is a matter of personal style, and you've got to figure out what works best for you. For me, I need a lot of visual cues, so I usually print out my presentations (or sketch the slides if my printer is acting up again) and add the information next to the slide it's on. I also like to add cues like "show structure x" in a different colour to remind myself to engage with my audience, like so:

Image description in alt text of first image.

But maybe this doesn't work for you! Maybe you like to write out your whole presentation word-for-word. Maybe you like note cards. Maybe you like to use the presentation mode on PowerPoint to add your notes directly into the document. It doesn't matter what you do, as long as it makes you feel safe presenting and you can reliably remember all your information.

Whatever method you use, make sure to write down all your information. In Step 4 we talked through what we remembered from our research. Now is the time to grab our excerpt documents and make sure all our information is factually correct and that you didn't leave out anything. This will usually add around 5 minutes to your speaking time.

When you have your presentation notes, you're gonna practice your presentation a few times. This is, again, a matter of personal style. Some people just need to read through it once, and they've got it down pat. If you're inexperienced in giving presentations, I recommend talking through your whole PowerPoint using your notes at least one or two times. If you want, you can use a mirror to also practice gestures, or memorize the whole text. No matter what you do, the goal is to automate a little bit. Your body remembers things it's practiced. If you talk through your presentation a few times, it'll be much easier to manage presentation anxiety, because you likely won't have a blackout in front of the class - you'll just go into autopilot and say exactly what you practiced.

Another important aspect of this step is, again, time. This is the time to really fine tune your landing. If you know you tend to talk a lot faster in front of an audience, practice so that you're 2-5 min over your target time. If you know you tend to talk a lot slower, pick a point about halfway through your presentation and memorize what minute you're supposed to be at when you reach it. Look at the clock occasionally during your presentation. If you reach your marker and it's later than its supposed to be, speed up. You can also practice talking faster.

And now all there is to do is present! Good luck - not that you need it, with your excellent preparation!

[piratefalls]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

oh man okay so i'm not the biggest fan of my own writing (and not in a woe is me way, but looking back i always think they could have been better) but here goes:

tides, they turn, and hearts disfigure / mcdanno truthfully this was just me putting words down because i was feeling incredibly, deeply lonely one night and it turned into a 20k word verse around a jason mraz song lol.

The Comedy (Is That It's Serious) / sterek my mom was going through cancer treatment when i wrote this and it just kind of became an experiment in "not all cancer fics are miserable" because life still goes on and absurdities still happen, and it's okay to ask for help, and the human capacity to laugh even when your'e scared.

I'm Gonna Give All My Secrets Away / stanny it was my first real rare pair fic, a season 4 rewrite, done in like two weeks because that deadline really snuck up on me, and the second longest thing i'd written. the response to it really surprised me and i got to meet someone at a convention who really loved it and i've been chasing that high ever since.

Got Your Body On My Mind (I Want It Bad) / mcdanno i'm gonna be honest, i'm listing this here because i'm still proud of that venn diagram joke.

Ho, Ho, Holy Shit (Or, The Time Derek Hale Forgot About Christmas) / sterek this was for a challenge, and at this point 5+1 had kind of become my the format of my heart, and i gave derek my gift giving anxiety for christmas.

[pack-coven-thing]

No one asked for this, but here, a Travis-centric scene in our rewrite <3

—

The Valkrum family knows they're descendants of Enki, the only known bloodline.

But, unlike the Ro'Meaves, they don't use it for a claim to power. The idea repulses most Valkrums, using their ancestry to gain social power or respect.

No, they remember everyone who came before them. They celebrate their achievements and mourn their losses, particularly in the month of January. They pride themselves in how far back their knowledge goes, journals passed down and transcribed from generation to generation.

Which is how we got to this point.

"Aph, are you sure you can't come with me?"

"Sorry Travis! I'm studying for finals," she said through the phone, earning a groan from her friend.

"And Vylad?"

"His mom's making him tour colleges today."

Travis sighed. "Are we sure I can't just skip a few days past the deadline?"

"It's your mom's things, Trav. Maybe Kate-"

"Are you kidding? I'm so bad around her-"

Aphmau laughed, a squeaky sound through the phone. "Chin up! And tell me what you found, okay?"

"Alright, I'll come by tomorrow?"

"My mom would freak-"

"She knows me!"

"If you wanna risk your life, go ahead- oh hang on." Travis could hear muffled yelling before the phone was muted.

As he waited, he couldn't help but have repressed memories bubble back up. He loved talking about his mom, even though he had been so young when she died. Maybe that was why he loved talking about her, he didn't want to lose those memories.

But despite that, he didn't like being reminded of the time after her death. How he was told she was finally gone, how his world had crashed down.

He sighed, shaking it off and beginning to tie his hair up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just- what if the things I find prove she's different than what I remember?"

"Different how?"

"She could have been a serial killer for all I know, dad said he doesn't know what's in the unit- just that this is the last week I can get things from it."

"You really think she's a serial killer?"

"Mmn, no. She couldn't have been."

"Look, not alone buddy," he heard her snicker, but the nickname did bring comfort. He was glad he met her when he did- "You aren't alone in this, now what do we do when one of us is upset?"

"Buy mint ice cream because you can't have chocolate?"

"Nooo! And I can have chocolate, just not any with cacao in it!"

"It's not real chocolate without that!"

Aphmau puffed out a breath of air and Travis swore he could see her pouting on the other side of the phone.

"But no- when one of us is upset, we do a little chant,"

"Not the chant!"

"Yes the chant! And we talk it out."

"So, tomorrow me and Vylad will be over then?"

"Yep! Try not to have mom kill you-"

Travis laughed, nearly having his phone drop from his hands. "I'll do my best! See you later, not alone buddy."

Aphmau giggled. "See ya, Romeo-"

"Wh- hey!"

"What's that? I can't hear you- you're breaking up!" He could hear the distinct sound of plastic crinkling before Aphmau hung up.

He sat there for a few moments before standing. He stretched out with an almost cat-like grace.

He picked up his keys and slipped on his jacket, hesitating at the front door.

"Dad, I'm off!"

"Got it, son!"

He sighed, walking out to his car. It was dingy and somewhat dented, passed down from his aunt, but it got him to where he needed to be with minimal smoking.

He got in, setting up his show tunes playlist before setting off. It was about a twenty minute drive, he rounded to thirty in his head- to account for traffic and gps error.

And soon enough- way sooner than he realized- he was in front of a garage, a number engraved. He double checked the paper, yep, garage 444.

He took the key, unlocking it and walking in.

Immediately, he was overwhelmed. Boxes stacked, labeled with various things- he better get sorting. Or at least moving the boxes to his car.

Everything of his mom's that his family didn't take, and everything she specifically left for him.

He started looking at the boxes, trying to figure out which to pack into his car first.

Then, one caught his eye. It was labeled simply, just 'family journals'.

Travis moved closer to it, opening the box out of curiosity. He had a vague memory of going through an old scrapbook with his mom, and she'd told him about journals- but actually seeing them?

He ran a hand over the uppermost book, tears welling up at the sharpied on title. "Enki Valerie Valkrum, 2014"

"Ohhh-kay this box is coming first," he wiped at his eyes, closing it and stacking it onto a trolley.

He slowly moved as many boxes as he could into his car, turns out all those years of playing Tetris payed off. He managed to fit most boxes in the trunk, and the remaining few in the backseat.

He made rounds around the garage, making sure he had taken everything. But alas, he had to fit one more box into his car-

Out of curiosity, he read the label, heart racing. There was no way anything from that long ago survived.

'Enki the Keeper'

It had to just be notes, or legends, or something. But the nugget of curiosity poked in his mind, so he pulled the box open carefully.

Inside was an old, beat-up book, a sphere that looked vaguely similar to the crystal balls he saw Witchcraft 101 use, and a delicate necklace.

Most startling, it all looked real. It looked old and worn, it looked how you'd expect everything to look-

And Travis's mom wanted him to have it. She trusted him, even in death.

The thought sent him to tears, but he wiped the tears away with a sigh. He lifted the box into his arms, being as careful as possible. If these were really- Enki the Keeper's- he couldn't risk breaking them.

He returned to his car, setting the box in the passenger seat. As he started the car, he saw light from the corner of his eye.

He looked over, assuming it had been a reflection of the sun. But when he looked closer, the ball- which was now clearly an old crystal ball- was shimmering a mixture of rich, though light, green hues.

He gasped, reaching over for it. It was- how did it still have magicks? These things needed to be fueled, and it was probably decades since someone used it last-

He picked it up, carefully handling the ball. He looked into it, surprised that it reacted to his touch without him wanting it to.

He brushed the top, the swirls parting and becoming clear. Through the fog, he saw Lucinda...

Annnd that's enough of that! Lucy would kill him if she knew he did that- and if she heard him call her Lucy.

It was curious, but probably nothing- right? Just an extremely well charged crystal ball, nothing new to a witch.

He placed it back in the box, beginning his drive home.

[roseonne]

strings left untied

Chloe has had a lot of battles in her life. The hardest one she fought, however, is against a measuring tape.

idea by & dedicated to @suispicibo-setomaouge ! ( ao3 link )

Chloe has had a lot of battles in her life.

Did she win over them, though? Oh, absolutely. She might not look the part, but she is a fierce fighter. It may seem scary at first too; but she sure won't back down on anything! Be it against a class deadline, a big bully, a creepy bug, or even the wooden door with the 'arts and crafts room' sign hanging onto it.

I-I am a fighter...!

The redhead swallows a lump down her throat, as she continues glaring at the colorful signage.

"I... I am a fighter," she tries to convince herself, voice slightly quivering, and barely audible enough to sound like a whisper.

Her eyes have been glued to the door in front of her for how many minutes now? Five? Thankfully, the hallway's empty; no one's around to spot her struggling to figure out exactly what her preferred manner of knocking would be.

Should I tap with my fingers three times? Slowly? What should I say? Do I open the door right away or wait for a response before I proceed?

With each passing moment, the more frantic she grows and restless she becomes. She's supposed to be meeting someone hereーquite the special person for her, truth be toldーand it's already past the particular time they both agreed to meet at. Repeatedly glancing over to her left, then to her right, and back down to the watch strapped onto her wrist every thirty seconds could only take her so far. She has to decide. Quickly.

But her chest is pounding, hands are trembling, and an almost endless whirl of thoughts making her a little lightheaded.

Great.

Talk about leaving first impressions! And because Chloe couldn't have asked to be in a better state, her brain fails to instinctively register the door suddenly swinging open, thus revealing the very person she is bound to meet merely standing there, right before her eyes, frozen in shock.

"Chloe!"

The evident surprise in Rutile's tone brings her back to her senses. And with her senses regained, comes a wave of panic crashing over her entirely.

"R-Rutile!?" The internal wince she has to endure as her pitch rises to a volume higher than the clouds outside that day could ever reach. "Wh-where are you going...?"

"Oh, thank goodness you're here, Chloe!" Rutile exclaims, sighing deeply in utmost relief. "I was so worried, I thought something might have happened. I was just about to go look for you!"

Chloe could very well recognize butterflies fluttering in her stomach, whenever she feels them. And there's definitely a whole army residing in her tummy right now. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" the blonde asks again, eyes filled with nothing but genuine concern, carefully examining each and every facial feature of hers.

"I am!" Chloe rigorously nods her head, hopefully enough to be able to convey her assurance. "I'm... I'm alright. Really."

A short pause. The air surrounding themーit's quiet, but also quite thick and tensed.

Rutile has yet to tear her solid green gaze away from Chloe. Any longer this goes on, the redhead isn't too keen about being able to decently handle its consequences.

And how can she, really? When she's always had this biggest crush on Rutile.

Rutile Flores. The school's most prided model. She's kind, caring, and beautiful. She's easy to get along with, has great style, and is extremely popular across campus grounds. Anyone's bound to fall for her plenty charms!

But Chloeーthe good, little, aspiring designer that she isーcould only go as far as hope to have her feelings noticed; and even farther be reciprocated. Not like she thinks she stands little to no chance at all in the first place, though.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to promise me that you'll tell me if anything's wrong," Rutile abruptly says, much to Chloe's astonishment. 

Taken aback slightly, Chloe brings her eyes up to meet Rutile's. The expression on the latter's face remains stern, but Chloe can tell she's only saying these purely out of her best intentions. Something she would very much love to hear, and something she greatly appreciates.

"Would that be alright? I promise I'll do the same for you," Rutile hastily adds. 

Nothing's wrong with being a bit too trusting, yes? Especially considering the circumstances at hand, Chloe discerns, with the tiniest sparkle of hope she forever carries in her, that maybe, just maybe, she actually deserves a shot at this.

In a heartbeat, the redhead replies with a smile, "Sure. I promise."

~~~~~

Chloe has had a lot of battles in her life.

She would bravely conquer one after another, like the true warrior she is. It's the experiences of this kind that helped convince her that she can do anything, so long as she perseveres in it. But never once did she anticipate a measuring tape to be the one battle that gave her the most trouble in years.

Come on... Come on...!

She mentally cheers herself on and on. The measuring tape she's working with has constantly been getting stuck in between her fingers as she tries her best to note all of Rutile's measurements down on her notebook.

"Ack!" And there it goes again.

"A-Are you okay...?"

It's so frustrating, honestly. When she found out from a club announcement that Rutile's in need of an outfit or two to represent their school at an upcoming event, Chloe gathered up a lifetime's worth of courage and immediately offered her aid. Which, to her surprise, Rutile herself graciously accepted.

The stakes are high. I can't mess up, Chloe tells to herself in her head, I just can't!

But how, exactly, can she not mess up? She's practically, physically, prestigiously a mere couple of inches away from her biggest crush!

"Uhm," Rutile curiously jives in. "How are my measurements going, Chloe?"

"Oh! Er-pretty good, actually." Chloe lets out a nervous laugh. "I... just need to take the length of your arms and we're all good!"

"Wow... That's amazing! You really are something. Thank you, my dear Chloe!" 

After jutting the last set of numbers she recalls down on paper and upon realizing what she had just been called, Chloe's face then subconsciously zooms back up too closely to Rutile's that she yelps and jolts several steps away on reflex, causing her to lose the balance on her feet. Luckily, Rutile reaches out just in time to pull Chloe back towards her body to prevent her from completely falling flat on the ground.

"Careful, Chloe!"

Surreal. The only word to ever describe it all. Chloe could almost mistake this as another one of her many, bittersweet dreams at random nights. If it really is a dream, then perhaps it's alright to remain asleep for a little while longer; maybe at least until she witnesses the end of this beautiful story.

But if it isn't just a 'dream'...

"Please don't hurt yourself, Chloe." There is a hint of pain lingering in each of Rutile's words that touches the core of her soul. The redhead still could barely believe it.

With a heart as light as the threads that seem to have magically tied their fates together, Chloe leaves her answer drifting amidst the calm, early autumn breeze, entering the room through parted curtains of opened windows.

"I won't." A meaningful smile is shared between two lost hearts; now found. "That's a promise. Thank you, Rutile."