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blackmaylovesfries · 2 years ago

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OT13 - Happy Birthday

Words: 1243

Sinopse: Seventeen Hybrid AU - How was your first birthday with your new family?

Notices: Not so good English. I was just in the birthday vibe, mine is getting closer and I’m wondering how to celebrate…

Solo stories’ destiny

Masterpost

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You knew that day was weird as soon as you woke up to half of your hybrids staring at you. S. Coups, Jun, Woozi, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon were distributed around the room with their eyes trained on you, not missing a single movement. It was a little creepy to be honest. But you’re especially suspicious of them when you start to get up and all of them approach your bed too quickly for them to be innocent.

“What did you guys do?” You moaned as at least three of those huge beings decided it was a good idea to jump and bury you back in bed.

“What do you mean!?” Jun whined while he rubbed his cheeks on your side. “Did you forget what day it is today?”

“Hm… no? I’m almost sure I’m not forgetting any important dates, I have your birthdays on alarm.” You were so distracted by Wonwoo and Seungcheol snuggling on your side and stomach that you missed the look the other hybrids exchanged. Their hearts were warm with your care but they weren’t that happy that you didn’t know what was happening.

It took almost thirty minutes for you to be able to get up and to freshen up. The boys escorted you to the kitchen, where you found the rest of the hybrids running around and cooking. There wasn’t much chaos, Jeonghan and Joshua had the younger ones under control and everyone was doing their best in what seemed to be a serious and important mission.

“Morning, what’s the banquet for?” You joked as you counted the number of plates they were just getting ready at the dinner table. The words made everyone stop and stare at you with incredulous eyes. Even The8, who had stopped looking at you like you’re stupid all the time, was frozen and seemed to doubt his own ears.

“I can’t believe it.” One of them said, the ones behind you started to laugh. They refused to tell you what was happening after they accepted you had forgotten whatever it was.

“Well, today will be interesting…” Seungkwan also laughed as he sat at the dinner table. Most of the boys followed, also grinning. Hoshi was soon next to you and guided you to your chair at the head of the table.

“So, really? No one is going to tell me what is happening?” You love your boys, of course, but they were starting to annoy you. Especially since you had a not so great night of sleep previous to that. DK whined with your slightly harder tone but before any could react, your phone rang. Your brows furrowed when you saw who the caller was. “I have to take it. I’ll try to be quick so we can eat together.”

You smiled at them and went to another room, not forgetting to caress Dokyeom’s head as you passed by him. Thanks to the urge of your phone, you failed once again to notice the telepathy exchange between the hybrids with their eyes. It looked like they all understood some secret message in those 2 seconds you took to leave the room.

The story of the person on the other side of the call made you freeze, forgetting completely about the secrecy of your roommates. You were trembling a little while you rushed around the living room after your wallet and keys, not even noticing the art supplies on the sofa.

“What happened, Y/n? Where are you going?” Seungcheol asked you and all the others were behind him, probably also wanting the same answers.

“There’s a scarlet case. The team is needed as soon as possible.” You responded as you put on your coat. “Jun can explain it in more detail… But I need to go now, I'll be back as soon as all of this is resolved, ok?” Kissing Coups’ cheek and waving the others goodbye, you ran to your car and were soon out of view. The hybrids were silent for a minute before all the eyes were on Jun. The poor feline hybrid scratched his head and sighed.

“A scarlet case is like when Coups-hyung found her…” The other 12 hybrids haven’t heard this term before, Junhui himself only heard it by accident when he was trying to smell your scent in your office when you had disappeared and JayB was talking on the phone outside the door. “When a member of the organization is in life danger and more drastic actions have to happen.”

This simple explanation was enough to make all the boys worry about your situation. They were starting to cancel all their plans for the special day and some were even already cleaning up all the traces of any party. Seungcheol, Jihoon and Soonyoung exchanged looks and nods before stepping up to their somewhat natural roles in the family.

It was really late when you came back, like around 10 p.m. late. As soon as you opened the door, you could feel the anxiety coming from the boys, who had crowded the entrance hall. Smiling at them, you reassured all that you were fine and the case was a success. You just needed a bath and were ready to give them all your attention, glad that the day after was a day off.

“No time for bath, Y/n! We need you quickly here!” BooSeokSoon didn’t even let you protest that you were still smelling blood before dragging you to your dining room. You tried to call the others, maybe the more rational ones like Woozi or Wonwoo to help you but none of the other hybrids met your desperate and curious eyes.

Joshua came from behind, taking advantage of your arms being locked in the dog hybrids, and blocked your eyes with his hands. Your instincts, still tense because of the case, tried to kick in but the hybrids had got much stronger than you in those months with gym access. Just as you were going to tell them to cut it, they freed you completely.

“Happy Birthday!” All of the 13 hybrids congratulated you with loud voices. Even the still kinda standoffish The8! You took all of it in silence, looked around the room, seeing their efforts in the decorations and the food still hot on the table. “Y/n?” Vernon took a step closer to you, worried about your lack of response. They all were… The day hasn't gone the way they had planned and none of them really knew how to celebrate a birthday… They were scared you hated all of it.

“I… Thank you, guys. I loved it.” Your eyes were full of tears as you made the point of looking every single one in their eyes. “I really loved it. Thank you.” The last time you had received such care on such a day, which means more than a ‘happy birthday’ whispered during missions, was before your parents were gone.

You hugged all of them and couldn’t stop to thank them. Yes, even Minghao accepted your hug with a little pat on your back before taking two steps to separate and go out of your reach. Your new family sat around the table, everyone more than happy and warm.

Your tears ran down your face while the smile you had on became more and more bright, knowing that while you helped them with their trauma, they were also healing you. You blew your candles seconds before midnight.

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Hello everyone! How are you?? I hope everyone is okay and healthy!

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

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WELCOME TO CREATIVE WRITING (WF extra blurb)

⚫️A/N: i've been missing our fav duo, so here is a little blurb of their first time seeing each other!

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WORD COUNT: 1.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

You overslept on the first week of the semester. How cliché was that? You would have sworn that you set an alarm the night before… or maybe not?

Kostas opened that massive bottle of ouzo he brought back from Greece and you had a little semester opening party of your own, just the three of you after spending summer separately. It got a little wilder than you expected and you went to bed at three am, so it was definitely possible that you fell into bed without setting your alarm.

So on that particular day you were already a mess, forgot your wallet at home so Ramona lent you some money for lunch, there was a mishap with your student ID at the library and it took you fifteen minutes to scan it so you could get inside, you spilled coffee on your shirt and your phone died before your last class.

Though thinking back at it now, you’re happy about that last one.

You walked into your first creative writing class already wishing it to be done and you completely forgot that Ramona sang you odes about Professor Styles last night and how hot he is. You’ve heard the rumors of the sexy, young professor on campus, but you never actually caught sight of him and you didn’t want to get your expectations too high.

You walked into the auditorium munching on some crackers and you took a seat that wasn’t too far behind, neither at the front. As more and more students showed up you realized that the class is mostly girls, which reminded you about what Ramona said about the professor.

“He is so hot, you might actually have an orgasm just listening to him,” she said laughing before taking another shot the other night.

Since your phone was dead, you were left people watching. Everyone seemed excited about the class, girls were chatting and giggling and you caught the name Professor Styles several times until the door opened again and instead of another student, the professor walked in.

It was as if the whole room sighed all at once. The man walked up to the teacher’s desk at the front and set his stack of books and notes down without looking up at first and you watched him like a hawk, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face finally. He fumbled a bit with his pencil case and set his phone to the desk with the screen down before eventually looking up to sweep his gaze through the room.

“Holy fucking shit,” you mumbled to yourself before gulping hard.

Professor Harry Styles was so handsome with his perfectly carved jawline, gorgeous green eyes and tousled, curly hair, you’ve never seen a man like this. The butterflies in your stomach were practically raging, threatening to burst it open. You couldn’t really tell what you felt in that moment exactly. It was like a deep, heavy crush, one you’ve never experienced before, but you also knew that you’ve only been looking at him for less than a moment, you shouldn’t react this extremely.

Yet, you couldn’t change the way he made you feel just by walking into the room.

He stood there for a while before his eyes landed on you and they stayed there. Those brilliant green irises connected with your gaze and you completely forgot how to breathe. He looked down at your hands laying on top of the desk before his look flickered away from you, just to return seconds later. The tiniest smile tugged on the corners of his lips

“Good afternoon,” he spoke up, confident and loud, demanding everyone’s attention instantly. “Welcome to creative writing, I’m Professor Harry Styles and I would like to ask everyone to put your phones aside for the next ninety minutes, because there’s nothing that kills creativity more than reading text messages and tweets or whatever you guys are doing right now.”

At his request, you tore your eyes away from him and looked around, just to see that practically everyone in the room was holding their phone, most likely sending messages to their friends about how hot the professor was.

“What’s your name?” you heard him talk again and you turned back just to find him looking at you.

“Me?” you asked dumbly.

“Yes, you,” he nodded.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Be like Miss Y/L/N, her phone is not even anywhere out,” he smiled, his eyes holding yours for another moment before he moved on and finally started the class.

That day, when you went home and Ramona asked how was your class with Professor Styles, you just sighed dreamily and told her: “I want to marry that man.”

Now it’s been almost five years. And you’re actually married to him. Living together in the city, happier than ever.

The mattress beside you dips and it rips you out of your little nostalgia and you smile at Harry as he joins you under the covers, but he caught you raving into the distance already.

“What were you thinking about?” he hums, kissing your forehead gently. You settle in his embrace, cuddled to his side before looking into his eyes, biting into your bottom lip.

“Do you remember the first class? When we first saw each other?”

That same, tiny smile appears on his lips you saw in the auditorium that day and your heart skips a beat.

“Of course I do.”

“Really?” you ask, genuinely surprised.

“Why are you so shocked?” he chuckles softly.

“I don’t know, there was a room full of girls drooling after you, why would you remember seeing me?” you shrug grinning.

“I asked for your name,” he says, proving that he remembers. “You looked at me with those doe-like eyes and I asked the class to be like you and put their phones away. But I just wanted to know your name, I didn’t want to wait until you turned in an assignment or something.”

“Are you telling me you were crushing on me?” you gape at him overdramatizing it.

“Kind of, but don’t tell the dean,” he smirks, stealing a quick kiss.

“My phone died that day, that’s why I didn’t have it. I would have been texting Ramona if it was still working, but I had to wait until I got home.”

“And what was so important you wanted to text her right away?” he asks, but his smile gives it away he already has some strong guesses.

“That I wanted to marry my professor,” you admit chuckling and it makes him laugh too.

“Well, it only took us a little over four years to tie the knot,” he smirks, before kissing you in the way his past self couldn’t that day.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #professor!harry #wildest fantasies #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot

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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

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dance me to the end of love (ii)

word count: 3.3k

warnings: fem!oc, alcohol consumption, cursing

series masterpost: here

a/n: part two baby! thanks for all the love on part one, it means the absolute world. i have so much love for this story and i hope people are enjoying it :))

Life is settling into a comfortable rhythm.

After spending a good chunk of her young adult life being incredibly studious, Magdalene can finally have the social life of someone in their mid-twenties. Though she’s still spending a fair amount of time by herself in the basements of the University of Denver’s library, Bette convinces her to go out more. Magdalene tries to fight, citing extra work or a good book as an excuse to stay home, but it doesn’t work very often. The pleas of her friend are how Magdalene finds herself currently lounging poolside at Erik Johnson’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

“How’s the new career treating you?” Tyson asks. “I feel like we haven’t seen you in a while.”

Magdalene laughs. “I’ve seen Bette plenty,” she says, “She thinks I won’t take a lunch break unless she shows up.”

“Would you?” the blonde girl questions with a quirked brow.

“Probably not.”

“I rest my case.”

A small crowd gathers around as Magdalene begins to detail the specifics of her job, but she doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as she once would have. In the month or so since graduating school she’s found herself slowly being incorporated into the Avalanche family. It’s almost certainly because Bette and Tyson championed her case, explaining that she doesn’t have much of a support system beyond the two of them, but she doesn’t mind. A few of the guys ask her questions about her work, curious as to why someone would want to spend their life combing through piles of old things. Everyone stays engaged in the conversation until there’s a shout from the kitchen that dinner is ready.

Magdalene shuffles in line behind André, filling her plate with various pasta salads and a hamburger. Once situated with enough food for two meals she returns to the pool deck, sitting on the edge and dipping her toes into the cool water. Bette comes and finds her a minute later and the two of them begin to eat.

She’s still relatively new to the group’s dynamic, but Magdalene can’t help but notice that Ryan is never around. In fact, Magdalene hasn’t seen him since her graduation party. Taking a casual sip of her wine cooler, she asks her friend about the man’s absence.

“Why is Ryan never at these sorts of things?”

Bette shrugs. “Isn’t a huge one for parties. He was supposed to come today, but I guess something came up.”

“I’m not huge on parties,” Magdalene huffs, “But that doesn’t stop you from dragging me to every single one.”

“Unlike you, Gravy gets enough regular social interaction that his absence is permissible. If Tyson and I didn’t take you out you’d talk to your cat more than normal.”

She wants to fight back, but knows it’s pointless. Bette has a point – if it weren’t for her the only people Magdalene would interact with are her boss and her cat. Instead, she grumbles under her breath and changes the subject to the trip Bette is in the middle of planning. It’s coming up in a few weeks, and Magdalene wants to hear a bit more about it before she commits. Despite what she thought about taking time off so close to starting work, it was encouraged by June, but she's refraining from telling Bette that. If it doesn’t sound like she'll enjoy it, Magdalene is banking on being able to use the excuse.

Bette explains that she’s renting a large lake house that is perfect for a relaxing week away from adult responsibilities. The property has kayaks and a hot tub, which pretty much ensures that Magdalene will want to be in attendance. She’ll hold onto that information for a little while longer though, if for no other reason to make Bette squirm a little. At some point Tyson comes to sweep his girlfriend away and leaves Magdalene at the party alone. She makes polite conversation with some other players for a while before heading home herself. Ryan never shows up, despite how much Magdalene hopes he will. At the very least she wants to properly thank him for doing her a favour, though her hoping to see him is much more selfish. He intrigues her and she wants to know more about the tall man with the dazzling smile and a proclivity for wearing all black.

☼☼☼☼

Barn Owl Book Company is filled to the brim when Magdalene approaches the store from the side street it annexes. She should’ve expected it – it’s the first of the month and their newest books are hitting the shelves. However, Magdalene doesn’t exactly have time to wait in line. June gave her only fifteen minutes to run and grab them coffee before they continue the massive task of digitizing a private collection that has just been donated to the university. She estimates it will take almost a month of extended hours to get everything done, and Magdalene believes it. There’s so much to wade through but she knows the end result will be satisfying.

Luckily the café line is fairly short, and Magdalene reaches the counter in a timely manner. “Hey,” she greets the barista warmly, “Could I just grab two medium iced cappuccinos?”

“Anything else?”

“No, that's everything. It’ll be on debit,” she smiles. Magdalene reaches into her backpack to grab her wallet only to find that it’s missing. Shit. The barista has already left to make the drinks, completely unaware that her customer is unable to pay.

Magdalene hears a voice from behind her say, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.” She turns around to find Ryan Graves standing there with a book tucked under his right arm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she mumbles appreciatively. “I don’t know how my boss would take it if I showed up empty handed.”

Ryan laughs shyly as he pulls his card away from the machine. “I get it, everyone needs a little caffeine this time of year.” The barista comes back with Magdalene’s drinks, which she takes with a smile and a wish for a good day. The two of them head towards the exit, and Ryan pauses once they’re on the sidewalk. “Which way are you headed?”

“Back to work,” Magdalene says, nodding her head in the direction of campus. “I’ve got approximately five minutes to get there before June rips me a new one.”

“June?”

“She’s my boss,” she explains.

Ryan nods in understanding. “I’ll see you around Magdalene,” he smiles, turning on his heel and heading the opposite direction.

In a moment of bravery, Magdalene yells at his retreating figure. “Will you? We never seem to cross paths.”

“I’ll be at Bette and Tyson’s this weekend, and I’m counting on your company.”

Magdalene finds it incredibly hard to focus the rest of the afternoon. She keeps thinking about what Ryan said, which makes her a rather lousy archivist. June sends her home just after seven even though they had plans to stay until ten, citing the fact that she’s scanned the same photo three times before noticing. Caligula’s meowing for pets when she gets home isn’t even enough to distract her from the comment. The absentmindedness continues for another day or so, and it’s becoming so bad Magdalene is worried that June is going to fire her for incompetence.

It’s only when Bette calls to invite her over for dinner and drinks that her mind levels out. “I was wondering when I was going to get the call,” she chuckles absentmindedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” is the response Magdalene receives.

“Well,” she explains, “I ran into Ryan at Barn Owl the other day and he paid for my drinks because I left my wallet on the table at work, and he said he expected to see me at your place this weekend. So if you never invited me I was just going to show up.”

Bette is smiling, that much Magdalene can infer by the lull in conversation. “I haven’t got the time to call you yet,” she concedes, “But consider this the official invitation to our house for a small party.”

“Anything we’re celebrating?”

“Nope. Have you ever needed a reason to party?”

Magdalene laughs. “Yes. Need one almost every time actually.”

The rest of the week passes fairly quickly. To make up for her blundering earlier in the week Magdalene offers to work a full day on Saturday, by herself, to get the project back on track. June accepts the proposition eagerly, and Magdalene lets Bette know she’ll be coming directly from work. Saturday rolls around and she spends most of her time getting lost in the past lives of the artefacts she’s dealing with. If someone were to ask Magdalene what her favourite part of archiving is, that’s the answer she’d give. There’s nothing more satisfying to her than holding a piece of history in her hands and imagining all the stories it would be able to tell if it could speak.

By the time she’s put in a full work day and finishes locking up the basement floor her department occupies, Magdalene is pretty sure they’re ahead of schedule on the project. She genuinely feels terrible about her misperformance and hopes June will be able to forgive her. On the way to Bette and Tyson’s Magdalene listens to the Leonard Cohen greatest hits cd that came with her car. The previous owner was presumably a big fan, and over the years Magdalene has come to appreciate the folk singer. She never got to see him in concert before his death but turns to his music when she needs to relax. Right now is the perfect time to listen to ‘Hallelujah’ on repeat because she’s seriously freaking out about the idea of spending the night talking to Ryan. Though she still wants to properly thank him and possibly become friends, something about him makes Magdalene nervous.

There’s no way for her to tell if Ryan is there when she parks in front of the house. She doesn’t know what kind of car he drives, or if he caught a ride with someone. Magdalene debates texting Bette to see if he’s there already but decides against it, knowing she’s an adult who is more than capable of pushing down nerves.

She doesn’t bother knocking and just steps into the respectably sized home. The music is loud enough that no one would have heard her anyways. It’s much more of a party than Magdalene was expecting – Bette invited her for dinner and drinks, not a gathering that could pass as a frat party. There are bodies everywhere, and she isn’t sure if she’ll ever catch a glimpse of her friend.

“You seem to be dressed for the wrong kind of party,” a voice chuckles from behind her.

Magdalene turns to see Ryan leaning against the wall, eyeing her business casual attire. “I came from work,” she explains, “And didn’t know it was this kind of party to begin with. I would’ve at least brought a change of clothes.”

“You look terribly out of place,” he agrees. “Can I grab you a drink? The hosts are too busy playing beer pong to, you know, be hosts.”

A giggle escapes Magdalene’s lips at the comment. Ryan seems to have a similar sense of humor to her, which will be beneficial for passing the time if Bette is already on her way to being wasted. “A glass of red wine would be nice.”

Ryan pushes off from his perch and heads towards the kitchen. The crowd parts for the six-foot-five hockey player, and Magdalene follows in his wake quite easily. Knowing the space as well as her, Ryan grabs a wine glass from the cupboard Bette keeps them in and pours the dark red liquid into it. He waits until Magdalene has situated herself on the island before handing her the cup. She takes it with an appreciative hum and waits until he’s grabbed a beer for himself before raising her glass in toast. Ryan does the same, and their glasses clink before each of them take a sip.

“What exactly is it that you do? I bet it’s something super cool and studious, but I seriously don’t know what the hell being an archivist means.”

Magdalene explains her job to Ryan, who is extremely interested. He asks nearly a hundred follow-up questions that she answers sincerely, throwing in a few jokes that luckily crack him up. Conversation moves to his career and then life. Magdalene learns that he’s from Nova Scotia, though he stays around Denver these days, and that if he wasn’t playing professional hockey he’d like to have a career in publishing. Ryan doesn’t press too hard when Magdalene refuses to open up about her family, which she appreciates. It’s a delicate subject that she keeps guarded close to her chest, and a friend’s kitchen in the middle of a party isn’t the place for her to divulge her deepest secrets.

The two of them get refills before exiting the room. Even more people seemed to arrive since Magdalene walked through the door, and the kitchen is no longer an empty safe haven. The music is so loud she can feel the bass thumping in her chest, giving the living room a club-like atmosphere, and it’s too much. Magdalene tugs at the hem of Ryan’s sweater to catch his attention. “Want to go somewhere quiet?”

“I doubt there is such a place,” he yells over the crowd going crazy over some early 2000s hip-hop track.

“Follow me,” she says with a smile, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of the staircase to the second floor.

It takes a minute for them to wade through the throngs of people, but it goes much faster once Ryan takes Magdalene’s hand and splits the crowd. A few boys, who don’t look older than twenty-one and almost certainly snuck into the party, notice where the pair are going and shout congratulations. Ryan shoots them a glare so sharp it could cut stone but doesn’t drop Magdalene’s hand. Once safely on the much quieter second floor, Magdalene makes a beeline for the bathroom.

“Are you coming or what?” she asks when there doesn’t seem to be footsteps following her.

Ryan hesitates. “I, uh, can just wait out here while you’re in there,” he stammers.

Magdalene’s laugh rings out through the empty hallway. “I’m not going to the bathroom. We’re going out the window.”

He isn’t sure how that’s any better, but Ryan follows the brown-haired girl into the room. It takes considerably more work for him to fit through the frame, but after some directions from Magdalene he makes it onto the roof. She sits down and pats the space beside her, encouraging Ryan to do the same. They stay out there, discussing anything that comes to their heads, until the party’s numbers dwindle drastically. Magdalene makes sure to properly thank him for both attending her graduation and spotting her coffee money, and she thinks Ryan might blush a little when she offers to get the next round. He asks about her love of The West Wing, and they launch into a long conversation about the show and cast. The sun fades to black and the cold sets in, and Magdalene finds herself wrapped in Ryan’s sweater without asking. It’s only when she notices it’s approaching midnight that Magdalene clues into how tired she is.

“I think I’m going to head out,” she yawns. Ryan nods in agreement and holds the window open for her to slip in through. Once downstairs, Magdalene goes to lift the sweater from her frame but Ryan stops her.

“Keep it for drive home. I’ll get it back next time we see each other.”

Still feeling bold from the alcohol that left her system hours ago, she reaches out to poke him in the chest. “And when will that be, hm? You seem to enjoy leaving our meetings up to chance.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh. “Think you can swing an extended lunch break on Wednesday? I’ll be at Barn Owl all afternoon. Maybe you can join me for a coffee.”

Magdalene likes the sound of that and agrees. She leaves without seeing Bette or Tyson once, but she doesn’t mind. They’d be happy for her blooming friendship – or at least she’s pretty sure they will be once she calls to fill them in on the details.

☼☼☼☼

Wednesday rolls around without incident, and Magdalene is given a full hour to eat instead of thirty minutes. Walking time has to be accounted for, of course, but she should have nearly forty-five minutes to spend with Ryan if she plays her cards right. There’s no crowd this time, and it’s incredibly easy to spot Ryan sitting in the window she loves to claim as her own.

“Hey,” Magdalene greets, “Did Bette tell you to sit here?”

He shakes his head, perplexed at the question. “No, why?”

“It’s just my favourite seat in the store, that’s all. I thought she told you how to gain some extra brownie points.”

“Should I be concerned about the amount of points I have?” Ryan teases, sliding a cup and pastry bag across the table and into her hands.

Magdalene shakes her head, smiling widely. “You’re doing alright so far. Keep up the good work.”

They eat at a comfortable pace, taking breaks to engage in interesting topics of conversation or take sips of their drinks. Ryan insists his life is boring, but Magdalene is enthralled by the stories he tells. It’s completely different from hers and she feels as though she can live vicariously through the tales of walking through the historic downs of the east coast and swimming in the Pacific Ocean on days off in California. After squeezing every story possible from the man Magdalene shifts gears slightly.

“So, are you going on the trip in a couple of weeks?”

“It’s looking that way,” Ryan shrugs with relative indifference, “Nate doesn’t think he’ll be able to come back, something about a development camp he’s running having the dates switched. He’s asked me to take his spot.”

His neutral mood confuses her. When Bette mentioned his probable attendance months ago, it sounded like he was enthusiastic about spending a week with friends doing nothing to swimming and drinking. “You don’t want to go?” Magdalene probes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but sometimes the group parties a little harder than I like to,” he sighs, raising a hand and running it through his hair. That’s something she understands completely, having spent a few too many nights being the sober one out.

“I’ll be there.” It’s Magdalene’s turn to shrug, but the comment holds an incredible amount of hope.

“Well then, that changes everything.”

Was Ryan flirting with her? She spends the rest of lunch thinking about the possibility, and truthfully, it occupies her brain for the rest of the day. However, she keeps her focus and June is none the wiser to the butterflies in her stomach. Work finishes without much fanfare, and her dinner is silent save for the few meows of conversation Caligula offers. It’s late by the time Magdalene falls into bed, cat snuggled into the pillow beside her. On a whim she decides to check Instagram and sees a message request from none other than the man who’s smile has been replaying in her mind. A follow request accompanies it.

Thought that maybe we could quit leaving our meetings to chance and plan something next time :)

He has to be flirting. There’s no other explanation for the witty banter they’ve shared this week, or why he’s reaching out to her on social media. The butterflies in her stomach multiply tenfold as Magdalene types out a reply.

I don’t know, it’s kind of fun being shrouded in mystery. However, I now have the opportunity to stalk your profile ;)

Before she can overthink her use of the emoji, Magdalene shoves her phone in the drawer of her nightstand and rolls over. A slight smile can’t help but appear on her features as she falls asleep, already curious about what his reply will be.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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risukadarlin · 4 years ago

Text

[yuugen romantica] hatenkou vol. 5: merry - track three

3; no signal

listen along・masterpost

✿

I think it stopped following us.

And the air seems to be less murky now.

I wonder if they gave up…

Are you okay?

Ah, don’t worry.

I’m fine.

You’re not heavy at all.

I’m just not good at exercise…

Ah, I haven’t run like that in a long time.

Who would have thought an iki doll would try to attack us?

And I was sure I heard bells, but…

What on earth is happening in this museum?

I want to get to the bottom of it but there are no windows in here and it’s too dark to see.

Ah, the lights…

Eh? There are so many dolls.

Look! It’s a Hina doll.

And there are so many Ichimatsu dolls over there.

I thought we’d seen all the exhibitions but we must have missed it.

Huh?

Ah, it fell over.

The poor thing.

Its head even fell off…

Huh?

This is…

These dolls are alive too.

Come here!

Ah! Please, let us through!

We’re surrounded.

Everyone!

Please don’t come near us with such scary smiles.

We don’t mean to hurt you…

Ah! Don’t pull me!

My clothes will rip!

Ow! You shouldn’t hit people either.

Please stop!

Let go of that person!

Ah…

You...

You have a cut on your arm…

To laugh while someone’s hurt...

How cruel.

More importantly…

You hurt her.

You might just be tricking us.

You might just be playing.

Even so…

I won’t forgive anyone who makes her cry.

No matter how cute a doll you are, if you don’t learn when to stop with your mischief…

I’ll curse you.

Huh? Huh? Huh?

Please wait!

Ah, they ran away.

I didn’t even do anything.

Before that!

Does your arm hurt?

That’s quite a bad scratch.

I’m sorry.

If I’d saved you faster…

I barely did anything.

I can’t accept it if you thank me.

Anyway, let me clean your wound.

We should find somewhere to rest.

✿

Here, I’m finished.

All I did was put a plaster on it but...

Yes, I carry things like this with me just in case.

Other than that it’s just my phone and wallet, though.

Luckily it wasn’t a serious cut.

But I wonder why the dolls are so awful.

Yes.

Dolls that are treasured for a long time start to harbour human feelings.

In other words, they become ghosts.

But that doesn’t make them attack humans.

I felt a deep hatred from those dolls.

I wonder what happened to them.

I thought we’d find a human in the staff room but…

I wonder where everyone went.

I have a bad feeling about this.

I’ll call the manager.

I’m certain the contact details were on the homepage…

Huh?

I can’t connect to the internet?

I can’t use emails either?

I can’t tweet or use GPS too.

What about phone calls?

I can’t…

I tried to call the school but it wouldn’t connect.

I should be able to even if I don’t know the number or have no signal and yet…

What about your phone?

Let me try it.

Ah, it went through.

I can at least call you.

Ah.

It’s so calming hearing your voice through the phone.

Oh, now's not the time.

I can use my powers but only to call you.

I can’t use the internet.

There are two possibilities.

One is that we’ve entered another, closed dimension and can’t contact the outside.

The other is that…

We’ve gone back to the past, before the internet and phones were invented.

Have you not heard about it in horror stories and urban myths?

You get lost in a strange place.

Years later, you’re found having not aged a day.

Or you can never return from a horrifying world…

There are more stories like that than there are dolls.

I thought the bell we heard earlier was strange.

We might have lost our way then.

I feel bad touching the documents without permission, but...

Ah, I was right.

Look. It’s a guest book.

The date written here…

It’s from 90 years ago.

This has become a rather absurd trip to the museum, hasn’t it?

#yuugen romantica #yuuroma #yuugen romantica merry #yuugen romantica hatenkou #rejet #drama cd #drama cd translation #toriumi kousuke #kousuke toriumi

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castielsshield · 4 years ago

Text

Sutton

Title: Sutton (Leave A Message Part 3)

Pairing: Female OC/Sam Winchester

Synopsis: After losing Jess, Sam continues to leave messages on her phone as a coping mechanism. Unbeknownst to Sam, that number has been adopted by another person.

Word Count: 1,871

Warnings: None

Part 2 || Part 4 || Masterpost

— • —

May 14th, 2006 - 8:13 p.m

“Hi, babe. Dean and I went after a werewolf earlier today. I almost messed up the entire hunt. I had gotten to know the werewolf before we knew she was the monster, so I didn’t shoot her when she came after me. I just stood there and watched her come after me. I couldn’t see her as a monster. I only saw her as the girl I had previously been protecting. I’m sorry, Jess. I wish I had stayed away from you. If I had, you might still be alive. Sure, you would be with someone else, and I would be alone, but at least you would be alive. For that, I’m sorry.”

May 27, 2006 - 10:18 p.m

“Hey, Jess. Dean and I pulled over for lunch by the ocean today. It reminded me of the first time you took me to the beach. Do you remember that? I cried when I first stepped into the water and felt the waves. I know you saw, but you pretended not to notice. I don’t think I ever said thanks for that so, thank you, Jess.”

June 6th, 2006 - 5:29 p.m

“Hey there, Jess. I wish you were here, babe. I think Dean’s not telling me something. I don’t know what it is, but I’m so worried, and I don’t know what to do or what to say. I need your help, Jess. You were so good at figuring out a way to convince people that it was okay to tell you their secrets. I remember you wouldn’t even tell me what was going on if the other person wasn’t okay with it. I just don’t want Dean to get hurt. I wish I could get your help, Jess. I miss you.”

June 7th, 2006 - 6:37 p.m

“Jess, you wouldn’t believe what just happened. Well, maybe you would. Dean ate five burritos at dinner, and now he’s locked in the bathroom. The thing I left you a message about yesterday, how I thought Dean was keeping something important from me, he was just deciding what he wanted to eat five of today. I still wish you were here. I still miss you. I love you, Jess.”

July 16, 2006 - 7:06 a.m

“Jess, I don’t know what to do. We found Dad and saved him, but a demon hit us with a tractor-trailer when we were in the Impala. Dad is hurt, but he’s okay. Dean isn’t waking up and the-- the doctors are talking about taking him off of life support. A reaper is after Dean, but I can’t lose him. If Dean’s gone, I’ll only have dad left. Jess, do you remember what I told you about how dad used to treat Dean and me? What if he starts doing that again? What if-- what if dad tells the doctors to let Dean go? God, I wish you were here, babe. I need your help, Jess.”

July 19, 2006 - 6:32 p.m

“Jess, dad sold his soul. He’s gone. The last thing dad did was sell his soul so Dean could live. The demon that killed you and mom killed dad too. Jess, I’m losing everybody. What if I lose Dean too? I’m going to kill this damn demon. I’m going to kill it for killing mom and dad and you. I swear, Jess. I swear to you that I will kill this demon. I’ll kill it even if it kills me.”

July 27th, 2006 - 1:09 a.m

“Hey, babe. Dean and I hunted down a vampire nest today. I had to kill one as it stared right at me. I hope I never have to kill another one. When it looked at me, it seemed so human. I almost stopped and dropped my machete when it came after me. Its eyes were blue, just like yours. I miss you, Jess. I wish I were back at Stanford with you. I was so close to asking you to marry me, Jess. You would’ve been Mrs. Jessica Winchester. You would’ve been my wife. We would’ve been happy together. I would’ve been happy.”

Those were the types of messages I got for the next couple of months. At first, I didn’t understand a thing about the werewolves or vampires. I especially didn’t know anything about the demons. However, my lack of understanding quickly mutated into motivation, yearning for knowledge.

I began reading old lore books. I bought everything from lore on werewolves to lore on angels and demons. I had my own money from selling my art and writing pieces online, so I never had to bring my father into the loop on what I was doing.

I would research one type of monster at a time, taking precise, organized notes about it as I read. I wanted to be able to reference the notes years in the future, so I kept the order of the records consistent.

The title of the page was the name of the monster, always placed at the top. The middle of the page was the signs and identifiers of that monster, how to kill it placed at the very bottom. On each side of that was a small column about half the size of the body paragraph. The right column was a rough sketch of the monster while the left column was filled with wardings, symbols, sigils, and other items that could be used against the monster.

As I got farther along in my research, I decided to buy a laptop to help me research more and find signs of monsters around the country. I was also able to make copies of the lore pages in a document, so that will be helpful if I ever need to move around.

After the message where the man revealed his last name, he began saying where he and his brother were going to ‘hunt’ the next monster. Every time I got a new location on the brothers, I would read up on the latest news articles of the town they were going to. Sure enough, every single time, the lore would match the signs in the town.

As time went on, I learned more about the people that kill the monsters; Hunters. I learned what they did and how they moved around. I often found hunts around my state and the ones that surround it. Most of the time, I couldn’t hunt the monsters I found, but they still needed to be taken care of. My solution to that: inform other Hunters.

At first, it was difficult to find other Hunters to pass the information to. But all I needed was one. Alexander Sutton is his name, and he was the key to my own life as a Hunter.

I first met Alexander when there was a string of odd killings in my hometown of Clayton, North Carolina. It was the end of February, a bit over a year after I got the first voicemail. I was at the gas station just down the road from my house. My dad was out on business again, and I had felt a need for something sour.

I placed my sour gummy worms and bottled Coke on the counter, reaching behind me to pull out my wallet. As I twisted to my right, I caught sight of a newspaper headlining murders. I picked up the paper and began reading the first section of the article.

‘New Body Found By Police, Signature Matching Murders From Previous Months,’ read the headline. My eyes darted down to the sub-heading, and I inhaled as I read the bolded text. ‘Bodies Found In Clayton, North Carolina Without Their Hearts.’

“Werewolf,” I murmured to myself, wincing as I remembered werewolves eat the hearts of their victims. I tapped the newspaper I was holding, signaling that I wanted to buy it as well. Pulling the cash for my purchases out of my wallet, I handed it to the cashier. He bagged my items and gave me my change. I gave him a tight smile and said, “thank you” before walking out of the building.

Before I made it out the door, I heard the man behind me rush forward and toss something light onto the counter. “Keep the change,” he said, pivoting on his heel and heading for the door as well.

I was following the pale squares of the sidewalk away from the store when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. My body snapped around, and I took a step away from the person behind me. Instinctively, my left hand strayed to my back pocket, where I kept my new silver pocket knife.

Looking up, I realized the person who had grabbed me was the same man who stood behind me at the cash register. His eyes flicked to my hand, and he chuckled, taking a small step away from me.

“Calm down, kiddo. I’m not trying to hurt you.” He leaned against the brick wall at his side, and he looked down at me. “You’re a Hunter.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I’m more of a researcher, so far, but yes. I’m a Hunter,” I responded, mirroring his actions of leaning against the side of the building. I looked up at him, meeting the intense gaze of his grey eyes. ‘I might be young, but I’m not ignorant,’ I thought to myself.

I hooked my thumb in the back pocket of my jeans, keeping my other fingers wrapped defensively around the knife. “I take it you’re a Hunter too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The man pushed himself off of the wall, extending his hand towards me. “My name is Alexander Sutton. I’ve been a hunter for fifteen years now. I started when I was twelve, so a bit younger than you, I’m guessing.”

Reaching out, I clasped his hand in mine and gave it a firm shake. “I’m Ashley Whitman, but I go by Ash.” As I pulled away from Alexander, eyes focusing on his once again, I noticed the shock registered on his face.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he squinted his eyes. “You said your last name is Whitman?”

“Uh, yes. Is something wrong?” I questioned, my head quirking to the side.

Alexander rubbed his hand down the side of his face as though trying to brush away a thought. “No, nothing’s wrong. I, uh, I just confused your last name with the name of another Hunter. That’s all it is.” He flashed me a grin, using it as an ending to his reassurance. “So, Ash, you seem to know quite a bit about hunting and I’m looking for a partner. Would you like to work on this case together?”

I considered his offer for a moment before returning his grin with a crooked one of my own. “I don’t know. Would you be able to keep up with me?”

At my words, he threw his head back and laughed. Once he had regained his composure, Alexander stepped forward, gripping one of my shoulders in one hand. “I think we’re going to get along just fine. You’ve got potential, kid. You could go far in the hunting world.”

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x original female character #original female character #significant character death #which you will note is different from major character death #dean winchester #castiel #castiel winchester #castiel novak #DEANCAS

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veridium · 5 years ago

Text

miss independent

COLLEGE AU DISASTER COMING IN HOT

I want to say that this chapter, even though relatively short and to the point, is a very important one in terms of content for me. Based on a lot of my experiences being a young queer person in activist/”social justice” spaces, and the ways in which people use those spaces for their own needs. This is all a eloquent way of me saying: gay drama, it sucks, and it’s real. The community isn’t a utopia!

So, uh, enjoy!

fic masterpost // last chapter

-- Theia The Gayuh: Hey

Read 8:04am

-- Theia The Gayuh: Can we talk, please?

Read 8:13am.

-- Theia The Gayuh: You turned on your read receipts just for this, didn’t you.

Message Delivered.

She sends the messages Tuesday morning, and Liv can’t decide whether she’s angry or thankful she’s left her alone for 48 entire hours. Usually they can’t stand to be upset with each other more than the length of one L Word episode. Oh how the turn tables.

Eventually, though, she does respond. After a whole day of classes, texting Cassandra about everything but the fact that Theia reached out, and seeing Ellinor in passing, walking hand-in-hand with Cullen. She’s glad they worked things out for now -- now being a day-by-day, sometimes even hour-by-hour kind of thing. They survived the first party saga of their respective relationships, and now she sympathizes with Cassandra’s desire for peace and discipline more than ever. Besides, it’s getting to be crunch time in the semester. They should be calming down.

Olivia: Meet me at Johnny’s at 6, then. I can’t stay long. I have to study.

Read 3:17pm.

-- Theia The Gayuh: Sounds good. Thank you.

If she scrolls up just a bit, she can find their last messages from before the war. Memes from gay instagram accounts, short threats of disownment and other heartfelt jokes. It’s not right being on the outs with her, but what can she do? She’s still angry, and that isn’t saying much. Olivia can be angry for years if she deems it necessary.

She touches base with Ellinor, the other half of her brain, before she shows her face at the pizza place they agreed to meet.

-- Ellinor: I don’t know, dude. Maybe she wants to apologize?

Olivia: I hope so because if it’s just more bullshit I’m going to be so mad.

-- Ellinor: Cullen says to hit her with the crushed peppers if she fucks up.

Olivia: 👀

-- Ellinor: Okay I said it

-- Ellinor: He says hope it works out. I said that was boring.

Olivia: Be nice!!

Before she locks her phone she looks back on the last messages Cassandra and her sent to each other from hours prior. They’re perfectly nice and sweet, not paragraph length like they used to be. The more they get to know each other the shorter the answers become and the less stressful it is to come up with what to say. She puts the car in park and turns the key, making one last wish that she won’t have to lose a friendship just so she can have a relationship.

Johnny’s is one of the most college-town holes in the wall there is. But, to be fair, their pizza is also the best in town -- or so Theia and Olivia swear every time they show up for the last by-the-slice orders at 1am. Now, in the socially acceptable hour of dinner for regular people, she’s reliving all the hazy memories when she walks in and sees Theia sitting back at a corner table along the wall, scrolling her own phone.

Ugh. Fuck.

She looks up and sees Liv standing like a scarecrow, and doesn’t smile. She just sits up and takes an anxious breath by the looks of it. Olivia tucks her head and walks over before it becomes a standoff in an old Western film.

“Hey.” Theia says it first as Olivia drops her keys and wallet on the table. She does a subtle head nod in reply and takes her seat. That is more than enough.

“Are you...how are you?”

The sound of her voice is enraging still. Its sobriety and measured diplomacy, too. Where was it when she needed it? When Cassandra would have benefited from it? Oh, that’s right, drowned in a gallon of rum and bud lite.

“I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

She holds back a glare. She shouldn’t be good. She should be far from good. But when she looks up, Theia’s face says as much.

“I...I thought it would be better if--”

“H-how is Josephine?’

Theia gives her a confused look, hands sliding back and into her lap. “Uh...she’s...good. You haven’t been in touch with her?”

“Not since Saturday. I was planning on texting her.”

“Oh. Uh, cool. Yeah, you should do that.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward pause, part one, hits. Olivia’s eyes wander around the place, to the chalkboard signs with the beer tap menu, to the awkward high school-aged boy behind the counter re-folding takeout menus. Man, he still does not look a day over 15 with that haircut.

“Liv.” Theia says it in a ‘let’s cut the crap’ kind of way, but she’s not ready to follow along. But she also can’t divert attention anymore so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Liv, come on.”

“Hm?” she offers, and locks eyes with her. It’s then she notices the coca-cola cup of water and ice she has in her hand, straw by her mouth.

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“Uh…” Olivia can’t hold it back anymore. This baiting and subtle nod to the issue is aggravating her bullshit meter. She smiles with impatience and shakes her head. “Uh, it’s not that I’m mad at you, Theia. It’s that you fucked up.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you seem to be chilling with your ice water.”

“Ah.” Theia sighs, and sets down her cup. “So that’s how this is gonna go.”

So this is how this is gonna go? Ugh, she was right. It’s gonna be more bullshit. Not just the apology and explanation she deserves. No offer to apologize to Cassandra directly. No accountability. Why the fuck did she make this plan? Theia is never going to--

“Look, I know what I did was immature. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? What about Cass? You went full Mean Girls on her. If anyone should be here getting an apology, it’s her.”

“As long as I get one for the hours I spent talking to you and texting you about her when she was pulling her bullshit.”

“That’s not how that works!”

“Well it should!”

“Uh, hey.” From above both their steaming heads, the boy from the counter interrupted, standing like a beanpole with two menus in his hand. He eyed them both with a look not unlike the way the little girl in the movie Matilda looks at Ms. Trunchbull, and sets them down between them. Olivia blinks away her hostility as best she can, but Theia just rolls her eyes and looks away. Classy.

“Thanks,” Liv says, but the boy is already halfway back to the counter. Talk about a way of saying ‘please hurry up with things so you can leave sooner.’

Theia sighs with dread and takes her menu, thumb pressing a corner bend as she stares at the lines of words. Olivia keeps hers flat on the table and retracts her hands, peering over it like a child. Maybe she should pull out a magnifying glass and also search for a will to live.

“I just don’t get what you see in her.” Suddenly, Theia sets down the menu and folds her arms. She’s really ready to be completely obliterated.

Olivia perks up fast, outrage in her posture as her mouth goes open wide. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Theia?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I don’t get it. I didn’t get it in the beginning, I didn’t get it at the party, and I still don’t.”

“If you don’t get it, fine. You aren’t in the relationship.”

“It’s not that, Liv. You have always been a certain kind of person, and you have always been outspoken about what it means to be queer. You deserve someone who is as passionate about it as you, who won’t...like, I don’t know. Gentrify it.”

“Gentrify it?!”

The boy came back again. This time with a notepad and pen. Behind him an older man was peeking out from the window into the kitchen looking as if he had bribed him to return.

“I, uh…” Theia said, still mad as she nearly tossed him the menu. “I’ll have the Hawaiian personal, please.”

“Chill,” he replied, sliding the menu under his arm. Then he looked at Liv, one eye twitching a bit narrower than the other. What, was something on her face?

“I’ll have a Margarita. Medium, please...” she looks at Theia when she bends her brow. “I’m bringing back some for Ellinor. I owe her for stealing five of her easy-macs.”

She hands the menu back because the guy looks like he’s being held hostage, releasing him back into the wild. After that she folds her arms and rests them on the table, leaning onto the table.

“Oh. I thought…”

“You thought I was bringing some for Cassandra? What, that she’s waiting outside with sunglasses on and a sniper in case things go bad?”

Theia bites the corner of her mouth and looks away. Her fingers twist together as she takes in the wall painting hanging next to them of the old river bridge just past downtown. College town shops always decorated with images you could see by virtue of a 5 minute walk in any direction. As if it heightened the experience or the pride in a bridge of all things.

“You give her too little credit.”

Theia snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, asshole?” Olivia tilted her head, countering her feistiness. “You know nothing about her.”

“No one does! So she’s gay now. That mean she’s going to stop hanging out with those sexist, stalking assholes in her Bible study? The ones who campaigned for Prop 13 last year?”

“I never saw her out there with them!”

“It doesn’t matter, Liv! She still wasn’t against them!”

“You don’t know that!”

Theia scooted back in her chair but didn’t get up. She rolled her eyes so hard her head went with them, and she locked them on one of the tv’s on the opposite side of the room. Sports, or something, playing on the screen. Olivia stayed where she was, in the exact shape she was, though her flight or fight instinct trampled her willingness to stick around. This was the complete opposite of how she always wanted it to go, of how she always thought it would be. Her life had become a Dr. Phil special where the envious best friend was sat across from the happy but plain looking married couple, begging the best friend to stop egging their cars.

“Is she out to her family?”

Olivia scoffed. “Theia, you’re gatekeeping again.”

“I’m not, I just asked a question,” she corrected, looking back down at her.

“I...I dunno.”

“Really?”

“Probably not. She just came to the conclusion herself. I don’t think she’s had the time or reason to. Not until...well, I don’t know.” She grabbed the straw wrapper leftover from Theia’s drink and began playing with it.

“Pfft. Gotcha.”

“That doesn’t matter, though. Why should it? So she can be the “correct” form of real?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know what I’m worried about. The same reason you were concerned when Josie and I got together. The thing you saw fit to bring up that night, in public, in front of everyone. Remember how not-whispery your tipsy whispering is?”

Shit. She hadn’t thought about it like that. At the time, it was an empowering speech-and-run that she made to expel her rage. The kind of tell-off everyone dreams of giving when faced with someone’s traitorous actions. She hadn’t taken into account the volume, or the environment -- had Josephine heard her? Had other people? Oh God, that might have been completely humiliating…

Theia watched her, and shook her head. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, she does know what you said.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was a wonderful fight to have at 3am. Thanks for that.”

“Theia, I--”

“Whatever, Liv. You know what I mean when I ask if she’s out. It’s different when we’re kids, when we’re poor...it’s not like that with you. You’re both adults, and she’s rich. What’s stopping her from doing what all those Beauty Queens do making out with our friends in the dive bars then running off to Mommy and Daddy’s house in the Dales?”

“She’s not rich, her fa--”

“Liv.”

Ugh, fuck. She rested back on her chair and ripped the wrapper in two. She caught her on something she would say was bullshit in any other context, and she hated her for it. Wealth wasn’t an individualistic thing, it wasn’t some easily-excluded condition. That was well-evidenced by her continued compliance with her Mom’s antics if it meant getting her tuition bills paid and health insurance secured.

“You’re still being disrespectful and showing your privilege. It doesn’t matter the age of when someone comes out, it’s still difficult and uncomfortable. The fact that she is doing it, and doing it with someone in her life, is brave. And she and her family aren’t white. Neither are Josie’s. We won’t ever know what it’s like to do what they do. Money or no money.” If only you knew what she’s gone through, what she struggles with. Shit, if only *I* knew.

“Ugh, you sound like those women’s studies harpies with all the buzz words.”

“I sound like a compassionate human being. You would do well to try it sometime.”

Theia slurped her water, visibly calmer than she was at the start. Perhaps a little too calm. Her heart was in the right place, if only she would admit she was just feeling protective and possessive of her best friend. Instead she was dunking and deep-frying her concern in narrow-minded visibility politics. Olivia flicked the ball of remaining wrapper onto the table, giving up on it as a plaything. She was looking at the person who helped her come to terms with her sexuality, the person who listened to her cry in the middle of the night after she’d have another fight with her Mom about wanting to cut her hair or have a pride flag in her room when she’d come home in the summer. They had gone through so much, and she wants to hold onto it with the hope that if she can change, Theia can, too.

“Well. I guess I’ll be wishing for her to prove me wrong, then,” Theia allows, shrugging her broad lesbian shoulders with her broad lesbian skepticism. This isn’t the last of it, and she isn’t convinced in the slightest. By the looks of it -- and by the knowledge Olivia has in 2 years of friendship -- she’s choosing not to pick the battle anymore. Relieving, but only to an extent.

“Thanks, I guess. I still think you owe her an apology.”

“Fat chance.”

“Theia.” Olivia notices pizzas being brought out of the kitchen. Perfect fucking timing evaded them this far, why would it start now? “Apologize to her or I won’t let this go.”

“Oh come on.”

“I mean it--” she interrupts herself as the guy approached with Theia’s order and two pizza stands. She’ll have to wait until he’d do the second trip for her own meal. It felt like an hour, their stiff staring down of one another while Chad-Kevin-Trevor-whoever did his thing. Poor dude, he was annoying but he would get a good tip. No one wants to be at the mercy of gay drama. When at last everything was served, and the guy got out with his life, she pulled napkins from the dispenser and continued.

“I’m not going to apologize to someone who proves me right the next day. I’m just not going to have her put a rift between us.”

“You have no faith in her and you don’t even know her!” Her put a rift between us? Her?

“I have seen this happen too many times in this town to blink it away, Liv. I’m not going to watch it happen to you and pretend it’s some big surprise.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Theia chews away, dropping her slice down on the plate. Her greasy hands ate up the napkin she used to clean them off, finger by finger. “I can’t stop you from dating her. But you can’t stop me from having my gut feelings.”

Oh, fuck all.

After a tense pause, Olivia grabbed the infamous crushed peppers and generously sprinkled them onto her own meal. “You know, maybe it’s for the better. If she were here she’d say she wouldn’t want your apology unless it was sincere. Which, obviously it isn’t, because you are an asshole.”

“Psh. Fine, say it’s that. All I know is I don’t say sorry unless actions prove it warranted. And I trust you enough not to do that thing everyone does when they get together.”

You mean U-Haul and crawl up each other’s assholes never to see anyone else again. Cool, that’ll be fun to attempt, considering I intend to keep you two as far away from each other as humanly possible. For my sake, and hers. Olivia took a large bite into her first steaming slice and, as always, immediately squirmed.

“H-h-haw--”

“God dammit, Liv,” Theia grinned and slid her water to her side, which Olivia took and gulped from the rim. Fuck the straw.

“Gah,” she gasps, and slammed it down. “I’m such a dumbass.”

She met her glance, mouth lined with sauce and balsamic. Theia’s playful expression is her weakness. She chuckles for the first time all afternoon, pressing a crinkled up napkin to her mouth as she did so. Theia follows suit, leaning back and running her fingers through her down-and-tousled hair. She mutters a curse under her breath. It’s like opening a can of soda and letting the carbonation finally release.

“Ugh, Liv, you’re always going to be my girl.” She reaches for the parmesean shaker and began dousing her pizza in it. A Hawaiian pizza with parmesean sounds disgusting, but the way she ogles it with hungry eyes, you’d swear it was the most delicious thing to ever be invented.

Her statement though. Her statement makes Olivia’s heart creak. She wants so badly to nod and smile, fully believing in it as she always had. But the truth is -- and she hated herself for it -- the entire time she sits there she’s missing Cassandra. Missing her, the way she talks, the way she laughs when she had a mouth full of food.

She watches Theia take her first cooled-down and thus safe bite, and for that split second she lets her inner frown weigh on her face.

The pizza isn’t for Ellinor, she confesses in her thoughts, one which she wishes to say out loud. But everything said not to. Everything said it wasn’t safe. And for that, she is at a loss.

“Well, fuck her.”

Ellinor, having stolen a slice of the leftovers, thus proving Olivia’s fib somewhat obsolete, is adamant. Cross-legged in old basketball shorts and a tank with flannel on (peak pajamas aesthetic). All the while Olivia paces with a textbook in hand, trying to work out the anxious energy while also getting work done. A futile endeavor, a tale as old as time.

“Ellinor, please.”

“Nah, fuck her. She knows what she did was fucked up!” said with a mouthful of margarita goodness. She gulps it down and then burps like a truck driver twice her age. Olivia has to giggle.

“Ahh, fuck, this hits the spot. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, fu--”

“I get it, okay!” Olivia shut the book and tossed it onto her desk. Huffing with indignation. What bright idea did she have thinking she could just be friends with so many opinionated and crass women? Oho, feminism, blah blah blah, women’s empowerment, blah blah, empowered women empower women, blah blah BLAH.

“Well. Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to proceed as planned. Theia doesn’t feed me or pay my bills. Her opinion is purely arbitrary.”

“Uh huh, so that’s why you’re creating rubber burn marks on your carpet.”

“What?!” Olivia squeaked, looking back behind her bare feet. Oh, good one, Ellinor.

“Liv.”

“Oh stop it! I’m doing my best. Theia is one of my first and truest friends. She’s the only one I’ve known as long as you.”

Ellinor slouched and scowled with bitchy apathy -- a talent she knew best. Sliding herself off her friend’s bed, she put her hands on her hips and stood toe-to-toe with her.

“Yeah, Liv, and only one of us isn’t being a dick about something that’s making you happy.”

Olivia frowns and slides her hands into her hoodie pocket. “It’s...it’s not the same. It’s different in the community versus out. I can’t--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ellinor…”

Ellinor dragged her feet as she headed towards the door. “Last I checked, Liv, there isn’t a Hayley Kiyoko song about being gay meaning you get to step over boundaries like they’re hopscotch squares!”

“Ell--”

“Nah-ah!” she yelled, sliding in through the door’s narrow opening. Her finger went up in the air as she lingered. “I can cite sources, too, Ruth Gay-der Ginsburg!”

“...I hate you.”

From the hall, the same sarcastic voice echoed: “LOVE YOU TOO!”

She’s going to be saying that for the rest of the week. Fantastic. Olivia resigned herself and fell back on her bed, hands across her stomach as she wished to be anywhere else but there. She had always swore she would tape stars and planets to her ceiling but never got around to it. Truth was she wasn’t tall enough to reach, and Ellinor has no advantage in that department, either. But...she could ask Cassandra. She could do that now. She could do a lot of things.

But first, she can do one right thing, for someone who didn’t deserve the heat she got. She unplugged her phone and held it above her head.

Olivia: Hey, Josie. I talked to Theia about the party. I’m sorry I made an ass of myself at your expense.

Read at 8:55pm

-- Josie: It was not the funnest thing. I appreciate your apology, though. Theia was being ridiculous, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.

Olivia: It’s not your job to apologize for her choices.

-- Josie: I know! Is Cassandra okay?

Olivia: Yeah. A lot has happened. I’m feeling really overwhelmed.

-- Josie: Oh, dear. You want to get coffee tomorrow?

Olivia: 😭

-- Josie: Lol, okay. I’ll meet you in the Hub.

#fic update #day & age #friendship fic #college AU #college!ellinor #college!olivia #modern thedas au #hot mess express

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virmillion · 5 years ago

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Ibytm - T minus 43 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,994

If you were to ask Logan, straight faced, no pomp, no circumstance, why he’s waited so long to tell Virgil about his promotion, he would probably do one of two things. Tell you the truth, or walk away in silence. Whether that silence is ashamed is up to you.

He’s hidden the new position for a couple months now—working closely with Mr. Jolenta all the while—and he still hasn’t told Virgil about it. Never the right time, never the right place, maybe he forgets, maybe Virgil doesn’t ask. His only saving grace is how many extra hours he was already working before the promotion—Virgil seems to have hardly noticed his increased absence. Maybe not the best outlook on the situation.

So when Logan leaves work even later than usual, some three aught months after his talk with Miss Katie-Lee, and finds himself caught in a thunderstorm, he wonders whether it would be the worst idea in the world to take it as a sign. If he were the type of person to read into those things, maybe he would.

As it stands, he waves back to Roman, who turns right and away as he leaves for the day. Logan absently thanks his lucky stars (not for the first time) that the old intern never told the news to Virgil. It probably helps that Roman got his own boost—from intern to full timer—but Logan will take what he can get.

He sighs to himself when he sees the apartment building shining between the raindrops. An easily overcome distance never looked so good. Logan picks up the pace, bolting for the stairs as soon as he reaches the complex. It’s a wonder his soaked shoes don’t slip out from under him on the concrete steps. Kicking the main door shut behind him as he enters the main room, he zeroes in on the couch and allows exhaustion to take him over. The new position, while nice in terms of the raise, is more than a little taxing.

A couple hours later, Logan wakes up to his phone pinging with a new message. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and unlocks the screen. Your Boy wants you to look at the island, it reads. Roman’s name scrolls across the top of the display. Said you’ll know what it means.

Logan sends off a thanks to Roman and yawns, glancing at the floating counter in the kitchenette. A travel mug of coffee atop a torn sheet of lined paper covered in dark blue ink awaits.

Lifting the mug to his lips, he reads over the note out of the corner of his eye. Meet at the photoshoot park. V. He hesitates, taking another pull of coffee and wondering what a photoshoot park could be. Slowly but surely, an image floats into his mind of Virgil beside a pond, showing off a cardigan that Logan hasn’t seen in ages.

He’s out the front door before the minute hand on his watch can tick over.

Miraculously, the storm has passed, which does nothing to ease Logan’s nerves as he wonders what this all could be about. Maybe Virgil found out about the promotion and got pissed that Logan didn’t tell him sooner. Maybe Roman told him, and he’s mad about having to hear it secondhand. Maybe he started picking up on how much extra wiggle room they’d had in their wallets lately. Admittedly not very much, as most of it goes toward bills that Virgil pretends not to notice, but an extra candy bar in the cupboard is nothing to scoff at.

The whole way to the park, Logan swerves around shrinking puddles that gather in holes burrowed through the sidewalk. With the abating rain and the moon trying to peek through the thinning clouds, his spirits lift enough for his mind to make a decision it has no business making. He’s going to tell Virgil about the promotion tonight, and maybe ask him a certain question that’s been hovering unspoken in the air between them, heavier than he would’ve thought possible these last several months. His hand instinctively flies to the lump in his jacket pocket, the contents of which he’s been carrying around for something to the tune of a year now.

He slips his hand around it as he approaches the park entrance, doing his best to look natural. Remarkably difficult a task, given his train of thought right now, but still. Careful to stay on the least muddy parts of the dirt path—an incredibly low bar to clear, mind you—Logan follows the trail into the heart of the park, taking vague note of how empty it is. Granted, very few self-respecting parents would bring their kids to a park so late at night like this, but the lack of other people is still unnerving.

A wave of relief washes over him when he sees Virgil’s familiar silhouette hunched in front of the pond. With one leg curled up under his chin and the other resting on the ground, Logan might believe he were asleep, were it not for the way he drums his fingers on the red and white checkerboard blanket beneath him. Actually, if the fringed texture is anything to go by, that might just be a beach towel.

Spread across the mat is an assortment of tupperwares with various maroon-tinted lids, each lightly capped and boasting basic picnic food. You’ve got your usual suspects—hot dogs, potato and macaroni salads, orange slices—and then you’ve got what looks like a valiant attempt at pasta. Maybe. It’s definitely a yellowed white, but that’s about all the investigation Logan manages before he notices the plastic tea lights set up around the corner of the blanket. Moreover, he notices the thing absorbing most of their artificial light—his glasses case, resting against Virgil’s side. Would he—? No, he wouldn’t, not with a glasses case.

Would he?

“What’s all this?” Logan asks, feeling the damp grass squelch underfoot as he steps off the path.

Virgil hardly flinches at his approach, not even turning around to address his question. “Just something special I wanted to do for you, since you’ve been so busy lately.” So he did notice. “You gonna sit down, or just keep standing there like a creep-o?”

After planting a kiss on Virgil’s head, Logan tucks his legs beneath him as he takes a position on the other side of the blanket. The glasses case rests between them. He runs his hand over the blanket and nods to himself. Definitely a beach towel. “You really did all this just to give me a nice night? All of it?”

“All of it.” Virgil indicates the various tupperware with a general wave, not looking away from the pond. “I couldn’t find, like, a picnic basket or anything, and this towel ran me a solid nine bucks at Target, but I think I did a pretty darn decent job of making that fettuccine alfredo like you taught me. All by myself, too. Can’t believe you slept through all that prep noise.”

“I’m so proud,” Logan says, scooting closer to wrap an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “What are the chances you thought to bring along utensils for this little outing of yours?”

“Pretty high, I would say.” Virgil produces yet another tupperware filled with plastic forks and knives and, knowing him, at least one spork. Priorities, people.

Logan follows Virgil’s gaze to the pond as he fumbles around for the nearest tupperware, content to watch the ripples skate across the surface in silence. Granted, they started those cooking lessons a while ago, but Virgil still managed to pull off some objectively impressive work tonight.

As the moon makes its slow trek across the sky, chasing away the last brave clouds into mist, Logan’s mind argues with his mouth over whether now is a good time to tell Virgil about the promotion. The best time probably would’ve been a couple months ago, but still. Just as he resolves to bring it up, Virgil decides his own voice should take priority. Perfectly fine by Logan.

“See that huge moon up there?”

“Yeah?”

“I still want you to bring it to me.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that. I’m just working out a contract with my people selling me the stars. The moon isn’t cheap, you know.” Virgil nods, quirking his mouth to the side and glancing at the heavens above. No time like the present. “Hey, um, I actually did have something I wanted to talk to you about. Kind of regarding the stars, actually.”

“Well, heck. I had something I wanted to talk about, too. Not regarding the stars, though.” Virgil glances from Logan to the glasses case and back, and if Logan didn’t know better, he might think that was a blush creeping across Virgil’s face.

Maybe he doesn’t know better.

A moment’s pause, and they both say in sync, “You can go first. No, you. Really, it’s—you can—okay, I’ll—” Virgil stops first, pretending to zip his lips. The glasses case stares at Logan. He stares back. The stars, the park, the picnic, the secrecy? What else could it be?

He waits for Virgil to talk again, but his boyfriend merely fixes him with a pointed stare. Logan swallows around the lump in his throat. “So, um, you remember that meeting I had? Like, a few months ago?”

“Oh, right, that huge interview deal or whatever. You never told me how that went down.”

“So as it turns out, um, I got the promotion, and it put me even higher than they told me it might.”

“What! Babe, that’s fantastic news! When did you find out? When do you start?”

Logan sucks a sharp breath through his teeth and winces. “Um. The day of the meeting? Same day offer, next day start.”

Virgil goes stiff under Logan’s arm, but he doesn’t pull away. Not yet, at least. “That, um, that’s great. Really, really good. Why did you not tell me sooner?” Logan can’t bring himself to look at Virgil’s face. He doesn’t want to know if this comes off as bad as it feels. It probably does. It’s probably worse.

“I didn’t, um, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It meant more hours, a heavier workload, more things I have to oversee, not to mention that I’m being considered for training to become an actual, legitimate, genuine part of the aeronautic branch of the company.”

Virgil remains silent long after Logan forces the truth out all in one breath, not looking away from a growing ripple on the pond. It bumps up against a rock, rebounding across the surface before dithering to hide in the reedy grass. “I’m happy for you, really, I just—it’s just really sucky that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“I know, I know, and that was a super bad move on my part. I just didn’t want you to worry, since astronaut work is obviously way more dangerous than basic intern stuff, not that I have to, y’know, tell you that.” Logan laughs uncomfortably. Virgil does not laugh back.

“Yeah, well, no shit, Sherlock.” Virgil finally moves out from under Logan’s arm and whips his head around to stare at him. Logan can’t tell whether he’s mad or hurt or both. Maybe both. Probably both. “You not wanting to hurt my feelings doesn’t make it suck any less that you didn’t tell me about something so big. Do you have even the smallest sense of how crappy this feels for me?”

“I just—no, I don’t. I don’t because you’ve never put me through anything like this, and it’s cruel and unacceptable on my end, and I wish I’d told you sooner, because you being mad at me is just about the worst I’ve ever felt, and that’s not even slightly on you, and I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough, but I am, and I just wanted you to know that. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I sprung it on you like this. Truly, I am. I care about you so, so much, more than any promotion or any picnic could say.”

Virgil hesitates, working a few muscles in his jaw. “Maybe not just any picnic.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Virgil scoots closer to Logan and shifts his gaze to the stars, looping Logan’s arm back over his shoulders. For fear of seeing tears there, Logan doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just—it’s just a lot. I mean, I’m happy for you. Had to happen eventually, right, so you could work on getting off-planet? That’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah, I—it is. It really is.”

“Plus, it might be a little easier for you to get me my present if you can actually, physically go to space.”

“Your present?”

“The moon.”

“Right, right, the moon. How do I keep forgetting that?” An awkward silence falls, during which Logan finds his eyes drawn to the glasses case. There’s no way he’s misreading this, the situation is just way too obvious. Why else would Virgil go to all these lengths to set this up?

When Virgil moves to grab the glasses case, Logan nearly chokes on an inhale.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs.

“What?” Virgil hesitates, his hand freezing a few inches above the case. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just—just finish whatever you were about to do.” Logan is trying very hard to maintain a passive expression. He is failing miserably.

“Okay, weirdo.” Virgil shifts his body to hide the contents of the case as he pulls it into his lap and stares at whatever rests inside. Silence. And more silence. And more.

“So,” Logan says suddenly. His voice very much cracks. “Um, so earlier, you said you had something to talk about? Not regarding the stars, I mean.” His heart leaps out of his chest as that familiar pinkness spreads across Virgil’s cheeks.

“Right. Yes. Um.” Virgil hems and haws a good while longer, glancing between Logan and the glasses case. “Well, I mean, I guess this is kind of hard to say—not that there’s any easy way to put it, I guess, unless I wrote it on a piece of paper or something like if I had a script, but—”

“Just spit it out, love.”

Virgil swivels the case around to face Logan, who swears he can see a sparkle reflected inside from the tea lights. His heart is now firmly lodged in his throat. “I was reorganizing some stuff earlier, and I think I may have accidentally broken your backup glasses. Sorry about that.”

Logan can only stare in flabbergasted silence as Virgil places the case on his knee, and sure enough, his old prescription rests inside, snapped along the bridge. His heart finds a new forever home somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. “Are you kidding me?”

“I know, I messed up too, but I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

“ That’s what all this fuss was about?”

“I’m not sure I understand your confusion.” Virgil looks at Logan, then down at the case, and immediately straightens his back as his mouth drops into a surprised ‘O.’ “Oh. Oh. You thought—oh my god, you thought that I was gonna—”

“Yeah, yes, I did think that you were gonna. I really did.”

“Well, if I were to do, you know, that, I certainly wouldn’t be so tacky or nervous about it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Logan’s hand falls to the familiar rounded cube in his pocket. “Great, so tell me how you would do it instead, then.”

“Well, y’know, I think I might do it a little something like this.” Virgil leans away from Logan, reaching for something in his back pocket. Logan’s heart is steadily making its way up his spine. He starts shaking his head, slowly at first, then faster, faster faster faster. Virgil produces a little velvet box. Oceans of goosebumps race from Logan’s shoulders to his trembling fingers. When he thought he knew what to expect, he sort of believed it, but seeing it actually happening? Forget it. Out of the question.

“Logan Marcus Walders,” Virgil says, shifting to one knee.

“Oh my god.”

“These last few years have easily been the best of my entire life.”

“Oh my god.”

“No other geeky little shortstop has ever caught my eye so quickly as you did.” His voice cracks on the word ever. Logan’s heart is hovering somewhere near the upper limits of the atmosphere right now.

“Oh my god.”

“Would you stop saying that and just let me get through this before I lose my nerve?” Virgil flips open the box and holds it closer to Logan, who is shaking his head faster than ever. He isn’t even certain he’s still breathing, and his heart has left the scene entirely. “You mean the absolute world to me and beyond, Logan, and there is absolutely no one on or above this planet that I’d rather explore it with. You promised me the moon at my price of the stars, but I would sacrifice all of that and more in an instant if you would do me the honor of marrying me.”

Logan shakes his head harder still, unable to form words as tears bead up at the corners of his eyes. “I can’t—”

“Fine, I’ll say it again, but this is the last time, okay?” Virgil licks his lips and gives a hollow laugh. The box trembles in his hands. “Logan Marcus Walders, notable soon-to-be space explorer, ambassador to the stars, will you marry me?”

“I don’t—I don’t know what to—”

“It’s a yes or no question,” Virgil whispers, his voice wobbling more than his hands holding a box holding a ring holding the promise of their future together.

“Yes,” Logan finally manages to choke out. “Yes, yes, a million times over, a million worlds away, yes.”

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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curlsincriminology · 6 years ago

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The Pick-Up Artist - BAU x Reader

Prompt: Y/N is Reid’s friend that the team doesn’t know about. On a night out, the team watches Morgan try to pick them up and fail. Miserably.

A/N: Purposefully left Y/N ungendered for you, my lovely friends! Also, in my mind, Derek and Luke are just buds! Who are at the BAU at the same time because I said so!! Also I didn’t really proof this because I’m tired and lazy

Criminal Minds Masterlist | Complete Writing Masterpost

The members of the BAU had just finished a particularly grueling case.

There were child hostages involved as well as a high stakes shoot out, but they had been lucky enough to escape any civilian casualties. Once the jet had landed on the tarmac, there had been a unanimous decision that they all deserved drinks. Lots of drinks.

While several of the agents had opted for those drinks at their own residences, Emily Prentiss had pulled Alvez, Reid, and Morgan along with her to her bar of choice—a bar that just happened to be a few blocks away from your place of work.

“And, Y/N, you will not believe what she said next!” Your co-worker Jeanine was rambling on about her roommate troubles and you did your best to appear interested and understanding. To be honest, you had lost the thread of the story several minutes ago. The bar was loud, the combination of music and conversation pulling more of your attention than a second-hand roommates’ squabble over who left their dirty dishes in the sink.

“Mhm.” The straw in your drink muffled your agreement, but that didn’t stop Jeanine. She continued her tirade with exuberance causing the copper curls that adorned her head to bounce wildly. She was so focused in her recounting that you weren’t sure she would notice if fell asleep right there and then. And oh god, did you want to.

From the table they had chosen, Derek nudged Luke, a hungry look in his eyes as he gestured towards you. Luke let out a low whistle and nodded in agreement. “Nice.”

“What? What’s nice?” Spencer asked, craning around in his seat to find the object of their fixation. “Oh.” He recognized you immediately, faintly surprised to see his family friend outside of the typical setting of a boring and parentally prearranged get-together. The two of you had reconnected when you moved to Virginia, your parents more than happy that the “smart little boy” down the street would be so close to you in a new city.

“Oh come on guys, really?” Disdain flooded Emily’s voice as she rolled her eyes. Luke and Spencer turned back around to face her, but Derek continued sizing you up.

“That pretty little thing over there is sorely lacking in attention. Excuse me.” Derek ignored the clucks of annoyance from his coworkers as he left.

The man who had approached you was incredibly handsome, his dark features twisted into a confident grin. “Hot stuff, you must be exhausted. You have been running through my mind all day.”

You could feel the severity of Jeanine’s eye roll, and it took all of your strength to avoid rolling your own. “Does that line ever work for you? Be honest.” Your lack of interest didn’t seem to register on him as he shot you another mega-watt smile.

“You’d be surprised. I’m on a bit of a lucky streak.”

You scoffed, turning to face him from on top of your bar-stool. “Well, I guess that makes me your run-wrecker.”

The man leaned forward towards you and you instinctively leaned back. You saw uncertainty flash briefly in his eyes but it was quickly replaced by a refined confidence. “Oh come on, baby. Don’t be like that. What’s your name?”

“It’s ‘Thank you, but I’m not interested’.” The man grabbed at his chest, a feigned look of pain covering his face.

“You’re really going to shut me down just like that? How am I supposed to go on?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. Have a good night.” That finally seemed to work. He gave an embarrassed chuckle as he headed back to his table, the weight of your rejection clearly weighing on him.

Jeanine giggled quietly beside you. “God, Y/N. I can’t take you anywhere.” You shrugged, an amused smile passing over your face as you sipped at your drink.

“That was… embarrassing.” Spencer choked out, his laugh echoing Luke’s as Derek resumed his seat at the table.

His shoulders tensed as he grabbed at his glass. “Ain’t no thing… sometimes you strikeout. It happens.”

Spencer snorted, playing with the straw in his drink while he smirked cheekily. “Right, but not as badly as what we just witnessed.”

Emily tried to hide her chuckle as Morgan shot the youngest of the group a devastating look. “All right, Pretty Boy, all right. I bet there’s no way you could have scored a date either.”

“Oh? That sounds like a challenge.”

“Tell you what. If you can go over there and get a number, I’ll do your paperwork for a month.”

Spencer’s smile grew exponentially. “Make it two and we have a deal.” Derek nodded his head from across the table, and the doctor clambered out of his chair before jokingly straightening his tie and fixing his hair. “Prepare to be amazed.”

You hadn’t noticed him in the large crowd before, but as the young doctor tapped you on your shoulder you unleashed a blinding smile. “Hey you!” Being extremely familiar with his aversion to hugs, you resolved to give him an affectionate squeeze on his forearm.

“Hey, Y/N. Jeanine.”

“Hi, Spencer.” Your co-worker gave him a small finger wave. You were surprised she had remembered his name given she had only met him once several months ago when he came to pick you up for lunch. But you supposed it was hard to forget the name of the person who insisted on spending the fifteen minutes he had been waiting for you debating the dangers of overusing technology… while you held the position of social media coordinator.

From Spencer’s position with his back to the rest of his team, you could see they were all staring at you intently.

He swallowed quickly, taking a step towards you. Your eyes widened slightly when he rested his hand, somewhat awkwardly, on your bicep. Spencer spoke rapidly and in low tones, the urgency in his voice drawing you closer.

“Look, Y/N, I know this is really odd but that guy who was trying to pick you up earlier is one of my colleagues—no! Don’t look!” Your eyes snapped back quickly to your old friend’s face as he continued. “He just insinuated that I would never have the guts or skill to get someone like you out on a date.”

This explained why his slender fingers were now tracing somewhat lazy circles on your arm as his breath brushed against your face in an oddly intimate way.

“Would you do me a huge favour, and just—.”

You pulled away from your friend slightly as the understanding dawned on you, reaching out to play with a stray strand of his curly hair. You’d spent most of your childhood defending Spencer Reid from bullies—coming to his rescue was second nature.

“Your place or mine?” You asked louder than necessary, smirking briefly at the shocked expressions that passed over his team’s face before assuming a rather seductive smoulder. Spencer’s face reddened, taken aback at your willingness to play along. He mouthed a silent, “thank you.”

Lacing your fingers into his, you turned to Jeanine. “I’ll see you Monday?”

She raised her drink in confirmation and you grabbed your wallet to pay out your tab. You almost missed Spencer shooting a triumphant look back at his table. Almost.

The FBI agents watched in stunned silence as the pair of you left the crowded bar. Luke was the first to speak, his eyes wide with pride and disbelief. “Did… did Pretty Boy just?”

“Nah, they’ll probably just go to his place and he’ll ramble on about the works of Chaucer, or ‘The Iliad’” Derek said, a tinge of saltiness in his voice.

Emily giggled. “Aww, Derek. You’re mad that he found someone who was interested in him?”

“No, he’s mad that the got shut down so severely that we should’ve probably called an ambulance.” Luke snickered as the other man bristled. “Spence is taking them home and he couldn’t even get a number.”

“Whatever.” Derek pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “I leave for five minutes and now the kid’s got game. I’m getting another drink.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Emily shouted after him with a grin. “You’ve got a lot of paperwork to do!

_______

@dontshootmespence @thetenthdoctorscompanion @literallyprentissstwin @watchoutforfrostbite @inkstainedfanfics

Please let me know if you want to be added (or removed dfsknds) from my tag list

#criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #Derek Morgan x reader #Spencer Reid x reader #jasmine tries to write #luke alvez

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wanderingskemetic · 19 days ago

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🤱Subtle Aset Worship🪄

Greatly inspired by @khaire-traveler's wonderful subtle worship series, which can be found here.

Support humanitarian organizations especially those that help parents or children

Learn about and uphold Ma'at

Make a playlist or listen to songs that remind you of her or you think she'd like

Make a collage/moodboard/pinterest board/similar collection of photos and images you associate with her, especially if some of the images are your own

Wear a piece of jewelry or other clothing item that reminds you of her

Light a candle or incense that reminds you of her (safely)

Carry a picture of her in your wallet, pocket, phone case, etc. or as a phone or computer wallpaper

Have kite (bird), tyet knot, throne, scorpion, cow, horns, sistrum, or sycamore imagery

Do some subtle heka or other magic

Assert your boundaries clearly; learn what your boundaries are

Sharpen your mind; play memory or mentally stimulating games

Take care of your body physically to the best of your ability (shower, eat well, get a good amount of sleep, etc.)

Take care of a plant, animal, or other person

Visit cemeteries; leave flowers at graves (with permission); or help clean up gravesites (if allowed)

Get involved with your government (vote, go to local meetings, protest, write/call a leader, etc.)

Take charge/leadership roles in parts of your life

Give people chances to change, but if they continue not to make changes, don't continue to spend time with them

Practice being more forgiving and not holding grudges (within reason)

Practice being more forgiving and kind to yourself

Spend time with friends and family (blood or chosen)

Show support for any parents in your life, especially new ones; help out when/if you can

Send a nice message to your loved ones/check in on them regularly

Honor your ancestors/souls that have passed

Keep family heirlooms; hold onto to objects given to by loved ones who've passed on

Be kind to children; play with them if offered

Learn about something you're interested in

Go stargazing

Carry a protective charm with you

Learn self-defense, weapons included or not

Invest in your future; set up a savings account, work on getting more exercise, find or spend time working on a hobby that brings you joy, etc.

Take your medications, if any; take medications as needed

Look into healthy coping skills for any anxiety, depression, trauma, etc. - anything that can improve your mental/emotional well-being

Take a walk through nature

Eat in season produce

Learn about different types of divination especially those that are less well known (bibliomancy, augury, pyromancy, etc.)

Practice patience and persistence

Stand up for what you believe in; attend protests or activism events (be safe, please)

Allow yourself to mourn over difficult changes or the end of relationships; allow yourself to miss people

Take care of a sick loved one or someone who is having a hard time; support the people you love

If you have a partner set aside time to do something special with them

Donate children and baby supplies to homeless shelters

Help out or mentor others, especially children

Stand up for family members blood or otherwise (keep in mind they might be in the wrong)

Learn about your healthcare options and medical rights (HIPPA in the US)

Learn about/research health conditions that you or your loved ones have; get a better understanding of these things

I may add more to this list in the future. Suggestions are always appreciated.

Link to the Kemetic Subtle Worship Masterpost

#kemetic polytheism #kemetic #kemetic paganism #kemeticism #kemetism #kemetic fandom #reference #subtle deity worship #Aset #isis #goddess Isis #Isis goddess #polytheism #pagan tips #deity worship #paganblr

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the-columbine-reports-blog · 6 years ago

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Library Injured – Lisa Kreutz

Masterpost

First of all let me remind you that this summarizes a testimony. The victim was going through an horrific situation and her memory and perception may have been altered by fear. However, if there is a mistake I made or an important point I forgot to mention, please tell me.

Lisa Kreutz was interviewed at her domicile (11/05//99).

She was a Senior at Columbine High School.

During the fifth period, she either went to the library or out to have lunch.

She had a navy blue backpack she left on top of the table. Inside was a calculator, her wallet, a set of car keys and school papers.

A paramedic took her watch off. She wore pieces of jewellery, including a class ring and a birthstone ring; she wanted to get her watch and two rings back.

That day she sat with Dewata Perez and Jenna Park as she usually did.

She heard popping sounds coming from the outside, like a hammer striking the wall.

A minute after, a student (the girl looked too young to be an adult) came in and stated “Where’s Miss Keating?” and “he has a gun.” The student went behind the librarian’s counter.

Lisa did not know if she should believe her and thought it may be another senior prank.

A couple minutes later, a lady came into the library and told them to get under the tables. The students all hesitated so she yelled it again.

Behind her was Mr. Place, who said something like “we have to get these kids out of here” to someone before leaving.

Lisa, Dewata, Jenna, and another student hid under the same table.

Lisa had her knees pulled up to her chest and from her position, she would see a window (on the upper part of the wall) into the hallway outside the library and the area between the trophy case toward the reference table.

She started hearing screaming from what she believed was the Commons.

Through the window, she saw a white male coming toward the library. He had a determined look on his face. Lisa only saw him from about the shoulders up and described him with blonde hair.

She heard two people coming into the library, then one of the gunmen said “Are you still with me?” and “We’re still gonna do this, right?” Then they started yelling.

One of the suspects said they were going to “blow up the library” and this statement was followed by an explosion. Lisa heard a window breaking, gunfire, and screams – she could not remember how many gunfires.

She heard one of the gunmen saying they hated school and that school had messed them up.

The fire alarm went off during the shooting.

Two people were praying underneath the table, and one said: “Oh my God they’re coming”. At the same time, she saw a gunman between a trophy case and the reference table. He was holding down a shotgun with possibly two barrels in his left hand. He was wearing dark clothing and had something over his shirt or jacket. It appeared to cross over his chest and then over his shoulder.

Lisa heard a gunshot and was grazed in her right wrist by a bullet. She thinks the gunman saw her between the reference table and trophy case.

To her right she saw Val Schnuur falling to the ground; she may have been running or crawling away but had gotten shot, and Lisa could see her holding her side. The gunman asked Schnuur if she believed in God, two times, and she answered “no.”

In the meantime, Lisa got shot several times, but she did not know from which shooter it was, the shots sounded different. Lisa thinks they were not really aiming, but just randomly shooting.

She heard something like the gunmen were gone, and they were for a long enough period so the student felt that they would not come back.

Jenna and Dewata got up and tried to get Lisa to leave with them, but she could not.

She saw students leaving when she was still laying down under her table. She then heard the 11:45 school bell ring. The fire alarm was still going off.

Lisa remained under the table and heard the different bells; they helped her keep track of time.

She heard a helicopter flying around outside the school and knew the police was there.

She heard two or three more explosions, and one more time, glass breaking.

She believes she was conscious the whole time, but not really paying attention, mostly looking at the top of the table.

She knew her wrist was broken and could not move either of her arms. She tried to get up a couple times but got “light-headed”.

She heard the gunman talking, and even tho they seemed far away, she laid very still, pretending to be dead.

She, later on, heard the police yelling in the hallway. She heard them come in and she called for help. One of the SWAT officers came to her. He told her she was the only one alive in the library.

She was not immediately taken out, and the SWAT officer stayed with her.

The next thing she remembered was a paramedic talking to her about whether she was hurt. She was put on a board, and an officer said they had to get her out in a hurry.

#tcc #columbine #eric harris #dylan klebold #informative #tcrc

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tigerlilynoh · 6 years ago

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Art Masterpost: The Life of the World in Flux

The Life of the World in Flux by @chiisana-sukima/interstitial

Fic Summary:

In the wake of 13x23: Let the Good Times Roll, the bunker is full of refugees, and Dean is possessed by Michael, who is missing in action. Fortunately, Sam knows a spell to find an angel using its grace, and Michael’s ex-vessel from Apocalypse World survived his possession with some grace left to spare. But the situation is more complicated than Sam had anticipated. He struggles with his feelings for Dean, discovers the ex-vessel’s identity, and gets reminded the hard way there's more than one use for an archangel's grace.

Read The Life of the World in Flux here.

Fic Masterpost

Link to uncensored art

Artist Notes:

I originally signed up for this Sam Winchester Big Bang as just a writer. Around the time when artists picked their fics, interstitial and I were chatting and she expressed a concern that kinda struck me. She was worried that Michael’s Apocalypse World vessel (made into an original character, Adam) might not be given the attention he deserves. Talking with her, I could quickly see some of the factors that might cause an artist to unconsciously shy away from him. The pairing in her fic was biracial, with the person of color being a very minor character from the show. She expressed concern that some artists might be reluctant to draw persons of color. As someone who dabbles in art and knows a lot of artists that struck me as very legitimate. In the same way that authors will write what they know, it’s common for artists to stick to familiar palettes and facial features. And maybe there is a good-natured fear of fucking up the subject and doing a disservice. I’ve known a fair number of artists who, for whatever reason, shy away from depicting people of different races. Interstitial told me that she was worried that that reluctance might make a hypothetical artist more likely to not depict or underplay this Adam. I was really moved by her concern. Diversity in media of all forms is something that I’m really passionate about. I try to do that in my writing and I also strive for it in my artwork (or as best I can when Supernatural is painfully white males). I think representation is incredibly important in storytelling and hearing her talk about that really struck a chord with me. Also, another concern of hers that struck close to home was that the ship is an extremely rare pair. I’m very familiar with the plight of the rare pair writer. I’d previously participated in a big bang (not SWBB) and my fic was basically assigned to an artist because nobody wanted to do Sam/Ruby. It was a pretty terrible experience because my artist actively hated the main ship (like they told me so, didn’t read the story enough to get the physical descriptions right, and even got the title wrong). Anyway, having experienced the fallout of an artist who doesn’t appreciate the fic’s ship, I completely understood the fear that a rare pair might be downplayed or hidden in the artwork— which would not only obscure the rare ship, but potentially sideline the person of color. They were two factors that could easily make a reluctant artist unconsciously undercut an important part of the fic. Needless to say, after chatting with her I was completely fucking sold. I was so excited to work on this that I immediately took several nights off from writing my own fic to start on this artwork. Not only was I down to do the artwork, I was like, “How do you feel about leaning into this hard, going borderline nsfw and just throwing this biracial, rare ship in everyone’s faces?” To my immense joy, interstitial was 100% down. I knocked out the nsfw image super quickly... then I found out that the cover art for SWBB has to be sfw... and Tumblr decided to be a bunch of pearl-clutching conservatives, so I made the wallet cover. But I was still eager to post the nsfw one because deal with it. I’ve made a slightly more censored version of the nsfw in case the post gets flagged, but if it does get flagged I’ll just link out to the original ;)

#sam winchester big bang #spn fanart #my art

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adamarinayu · 7 years ago

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I really love your PK 2017 AU please more headcannons please?

Mm alright! I’m always happy to talk about anything PK related :) I’m just gonna list a lot of stuff, almost in a timeline kinda but not exactly.

This just might become a masterpost of this AU XD Because I wrote a lot of stuff. I suppose they’re less “headcanons” and more “abouts” than anything.

* Donald started dreaming of becoming an avenger in high school. Every vacation, many weekends and such Scrooge would take him and Della on adventures that would normally turn out badly for himself and like many kids, he fantasized about revenge. However, it wasn’t until he went to Italy for his language class’s culture trip (he was in year 4 Italian) that he found inspiration to actually become Paperinik (or the Duck Avenger).

* Like in the old Paperinik comics, he was originally basically a prankster (less malicious in this AU, since it doesn’t fit DT17 Donald’s personality to be malicious) out to get revenge on Scrooge and Gladstone (and sometimes Della, too). (As an aside, in my personal canon he joins the navy at 18; in this AU, becoming Paperinik changes that, and he never joins the navy.)

* Donald’s thirst for revenge pretty quickly shifted into a thirst for justice, which is what started him on becoming a hero. As he was one day planning revenge on Gladstone with a gag gun he ended up in a situation where only he could stop the bad guy (in this case, it was a robber roughing someone up in the alley in which he was hiding in wait for Gladstone). He managed to stop the robber with his “gun” and the victim managed to get away and call the cops. He was hailed a hero rather than a menace after this, and with that taste of heroics he decided he wanted to keep up being a hero, almost completely dropping the revenge aspect of his identity (yet still known to locals as the Duck Avenger (despite him insisting on being called Paperinik)).

* After deciding to become a hero, Donald realized he needed actual gadgets. Although in DT17 Gyro looks pretty young, I’m just gonna go out on a limb and say he’s older than he looks and that he and Donald knew each other when they were younger (though not very well), and Donald knew he was a genius. So when Donald realized he needed gadgets, Gyro was the first person he thought of, and Gyro provided him with his gadgets for the first year or so of him being a hero (~aged 18-19).

* Donald does, in fact, have his old 313 (a small soft-top two-door convertible (it does have a backseat, uncomfortable though it may be)), which was a highschool graduation gift from Scrooge and Grandma. Simple, cheap (it’s an old car), and a car Donald had had his eye on since he was literally a child, Scrooge decided he could spoil Donald and Della just a little by getting them the cars they wanted (Grandma pitches in, but Scrooge covers most of it since he’s a trillionaire). Therefore, Gyro still tricks it out into the 313-X.

* Donald still adventures with Scrooge and Della, so he’s not exactly a full-time hero. However, when he’s gone Gyro deals with the problems in the city with his genius (robots, holograms, warning the police, etc).

* When Donald is ~19/20, Scrooge buys Ducklair Tower and Donald works there (by his own choice, of course) between adventures, not wanting to feel like he’s freeloading even if his uncle is the one who signs his paychecks. Also it gives him more leeway to be away from Scrooge and Della when he’s in Duckburg, not having to make up some ridiculous excuse to get away. This leads to him meeting Uno, and not only upgrades his tech but also the threats he’s dealing with. He goes from part-time crimefighter to full-time hero, not just in Duckburg but all over the world and, after meeting Lyla, time (where he ends up meeting Odin Eidolon). Things get much more difficult around this time as bigger threats start showing up, and Donald and Gyro both understand that Gyro’s assistance is no longer needed or good enough (Gyro hated admitting that) with Uno, an advanced (and also alien, spoiler alert) AI in the picture.

* Shortly after meeting Uno is when Donald gets the PKar (Duckmobile in the English translation, I think, but I prefer calling it the PKar), making the 313-X completely obsolete, and it enables Donald to deal with threats all over the world. Despite this, Donald keeps the 313-X as long as possible, until it becomes such a safety hazard Uno, concerned for Donald’s life, finally convinces Donald to at least take the “X” mechanics off. Donald agrees, under the condition that it’s still able to fly.

* When they’re 22, Della finds out that Donald and Paperinik are the same person. She’s simultaneously proud and worried, and does what she can to throw Scrooge’s suspicions when Donald is absent. For the record; Della is terrible at acting, and Donald is about 98% sure that she made Scrooge even more suspicious. He’s grateful for her help, anyway.

* Random fact needed for those who have read PKNA and understand why it took Uno 200 years to become an android canon-wise, Due’s story ends in Donald’s time, rather than two hundred years in the future, meaning (spoiler alert) Uno absorbs what’s left of Due more “now”ish than “later”ish, enabling him to become an android sooner.

* On his very last trip to the future, when Donald is 22, going on 23, Odin gave him a computer chip and told him to give it to “his tech guy,” obviously meaning Uno. Donald does as told, which later proves to be a very good thing; not long after, Ducklair Tower is destroyed, thankfully after everyone clears out of the building… well, everyone who could leave. Uno is Ducklair Tower (the AI who controlled everything inside), and with its destruction Uno should have essentially died. Among the rubble, though, Donald finds the chip Odin gave him, and on a whim decided to put it in his computer back at home. Lo and behold, Uno was on that chip, having been saved. Uno is as confused/surprised as Donald is, but relieved.

* That chip enables Uno to go into any device it’s installed on, causing Uno to basically be anywhere Donald is (so long as he doesn’t turn his phone off). On the chip there are also instructions on how to make 23rd century androids, which gives Donald the idea to build an android body for Uno so he isn’t stuck in his phone or computer. Donald, however, is no scientist and struggles a lot, and it’s only under Uno’s careful direction he’s able to do it.

* He continued being PK until Della disappeared.The triplets were left in his care and between jobs and children, Donald realized he couldn’t keep up with being a hero. Uno understood, and since the bigger threats to the planet as a whole were gone he didn’t put up much protest, knowing how important raising the kids was to Donald. This, however, also put a stop to the android being built.

* One night when Donald couldn’t sleep and the triplets were finally asleep, Donald decided to continue working on the android, if only to distract himself. After that he worked on it in his free time- whenever he was between jobs and the triplets were at school, when the triplets were at Junior Woodchuck meetings or camps, etc etc. It takes him years to complete the android- in fact, it’s not completed until after Scrooge and Donald are talking again.

* The first thing Uno does with his new android body? Follows Donald and the family across the world and ends up saving Donald’s life when he nearly falls off the mountain. This prompts an unplanned, early meeting between Uno and the family, where they have to quickly come up with a story that doesn’t contradict. That story ends up being;

They met in Italy when Donald went on his culture trip and Uno (who had been designed with an English accent but needed a reason to have an Italian name) went to find out more about his ancestry, and they became friends and kept in contact afterwards.

This is followed up with the claim that Uno was planning to move to Duckburg, and Donald “offered” a room on the houseboat (knowing damn well Uno’s been living there for 11 or 12 years already…) until he found a place. Uno then joins them for the rest of the adventure, him and Donald talking about what has actually happened in Italian. The rest of the family (bar Scrooge) is surprised Donald knows Italian.

* At some point, Donald discovers his old 313 in one of Scrooge’s storage units. Donald had left it behind when he and Scrooge fell out, not wanting to “owe” Scrooge anything, and bought a car better suited for driving children around in. He’s surprised that Scrooge kept it all this time, and Scrooge reminds him that it’s Donald’s car, and Donald gets his trusty old 313 back. Ten years of neglect means it needs serious TLC, but Donald and Uno are willing to put in the work needed to fix it back up. The kids aren’t impressed with the 313; all they see is an old car, but Donald, Uno, Gladstone and Scrooge all have memories about that car.

* Uno doesn’t go with them to St. Canard where Donald & Co. (including Gladstone) meet Darkwing Duck. Donald, though, on a whim took his Paperinik suit (which Uno noticed), and ends up donning the suit in order to save his family with Darkwing’s help. Darkwing, afterwards, talks to Paperinik about it, encouraging him to take up hero work again, as “[his] kids are growing up and don’t need so much protecting, but there’s an entire world that doesn’t even know it’s in trouble, and it needs heroes.”

* Also, it’s on this St. Canard trip that Gladstone, of all people, finds out Donald is Paperinik. While going out to eat with Donald, Scrooge, the kids (including Gosalyn) and Drake Mallard, Gladstone realizes he was missing his wallet and doubles back to the room he’s sharing with Donald. Unfortunately for Donald, who had haphazardly thrown his PK suit back into its secret compartment, Gladstone notices part of the suit sticking out of the suitcase. He pulls it out and realizes the truth- not just because Donald has the suit, but because the suit is warm. It was, clearly, just worn. He goes to rejoin the others, intending to confront Donald about it, but when he sees Donald listening as the kids all excitedly recounted what happened he realizes he just can’t do that to Donald. Donald doesn’t know until much later that Gladstone knows.

* After the St. Canard trip, Donald recounts what happened to Uno, who agrees with Darkwing but ultimately leaves the decision up to Donald. After some debate, Donald decides they’re right, but he needs a proper HQ again. Uno is delighted by this prospect; he totally wants a facility to play with again. This ends up with them salvaging the remains of Ducklair tower (including a certain AI in a super secret chamber *cough*) from where they’re stored, and rebuilding the tower. Yes, they totally get Everett Ducklair’s help for this. Even after the tower is rebuilt (and left in possession of Solomon (the AI mentioned earlier)) Uno sticks mostly to his android form, but is capable of retaking the AI space in the tower (just as Solomon is able to do, as well) when needed.

* As a funny note, one day at the mansion everyone’s just hanging out together inside when Solomon just shows up at the door, needing to speak to Donald (and annoyed that he wasn’t picking up the phone). Cue confusion as everyone tries to figure out how Donald knows Solomon, and Donald and Uno having to come up with an excuse on the spot (“Right uhhh Solomon is actually Uno’s older brother! So uh, yeah.” “… They look nothing alike.” “Adopted brother.” “They have different last names.” “We kept our birth names.” “But-” “They’re brothers, okay?”)

* EVRONIANS RETURN. Because I actually like the Evronians. Their return is what solidifies Donald’s choice to return to hero work.

* Scrooge is incredibly suspicious of Donald being PK, and has been for years. However, he has no solid proof and keeps his beak shut about it.

* Donald and Uno realize Gladstone knows Donald is PK when Donald (as Donald) has to save their tails and Gladstone is not surprised at all. I won’t go into details about this scene because I really want to write/draw it out. This moment is also what convinces Scrooge that Donald is Paperinik.

* The way they all find out Uno is an android differs from person to person, most on accident but at least one is Uno telling them. Not gonna reveal details for this one, though.

* Duckburg may or may not be destroyed at some point…

And I have to go for now, but this is a good list of things about this AU. It’s not canon-compliant, but I tried to make the AU follow canon as closely as possible while mixing in some of the PK canon, too. Which is, surprisingly, less hard to do since Huey, Dewey and Louie weren’t that involved in PK in the first place.

#Ask #DuckTales 2017 AU #PK DT17 AU #These are more like facts/events than headcanons #But yeah

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emilyplaysotome · 8 years ago

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Part 49 - There’s No Place Like Home

Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe.

This story is ongoing, so if you missed a part, or are new to the story, please use the link to the masterpost below to catch yourself up:

https://tinyurl.com/k4rrxna

Part 49 - There’s No Place Like Home

Zyglavis and I stood side by side in front of the open door, flabbergasted by the actions of the king. Even though I’d suspected that the king might be duplicitous, I never imagined that he’d pull something quite like this.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out a way home, all the while concerned with the fact that the king might be able to read my thoughts. I worried that if this was the case winning the game might be impossible, however I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

I watched as Zyglavis straightened his posture and attempted to appeal to logic and fairness, seeing as how the king had encouraged both of us to fall in love only to immediately punish us for doing so.

In the king’s words, this was Zyglavis’ penance for lying with a Goldfish when (as a minister) he should have known better.

When Zyglavis had argued that the king had given us permission to break the law of the Heavens, the king snapped back and noted that Zyglavis had transgressed from the moment he began caring about me more than any other human in Toyko. Zyglavis attempted to assert that he’d only recently come to acknowledge these feelings, but the king cut him off and declared that he’d cared about me much longer than Zyglavis himself had even realized.

The king divulged that from the moment he’d noticed that his straight laced minister had begun to fall for a human, he’d planned to use my existence as a way to test Zyglavis. Once the king had looked into who I was and had heard my thoughts, he realized that my attempt to take someone back to my world could be used for his benefit. From there, he had decided to pay me a visit in the baths and had effectively challenged me to win Zyglavis’ affections.

The king proudly proclaimed that he had meddled just enough to ensure that his minister would be given a proper test and it became clear that unbeknownst to me, I had set a trap for the man I loved.

To the king, this had all been a test of Zyglavis’ loyalty to the heavens which he had failed miserably by choosing to be me with. Upon announcing this, I thought the king would be more annoyed however I soon saw that there was a consolation prize in all this for him.

The king admitted that while it had amused him to see Zyglavis in such an emotional frenzy the past few days, it was clear that while he’d failed the king’s test he’d opened himself up to love.

This was beneficial for the king, who had been trying to persuade Zyglavis to have an heir for the last hundred years or so. As he watched Zyglavis begin to open his heart to me (which was unexpected), the king saw my existence in this world as an opportunity to teach the God about love before pushing him to find with a Goddess it in the Heavens.

He figured that being a man of logic, should it come to this point Zyglavis would understand that stepping through the door would upset the natural balance between the two worlds, and would quickly realize that if he could love a Goldfish, it was possible to love a Goddess.

Zyglavis took in everything the king said without so much as a word, standing there in silence as his usual stoic expression revealed little about what was going on in his head. To most, Zyglavis was hard to get a read on when he wore his poker face but having gotten to know him as well as I did, I was able to tell that none of what the king was saying sat well with him.

Zyglavis chose his words carefully, and when he finally felt inspired to speak, he noted that love is an illogical emotion that cannot be easily replicated with another. He appealed to what the king had said to him in the throne room, and told the king that he had miscalculated the extent to which experiencing the emotion would change him.

As Zyglavis politely bickered with the king, I decided that it was time for me to take action.

While the king’s focus was on Zyglavis and his words, he would most likely be unable to tell what I was thinking. Using this distraction to my advantage, I slowly began to back towards the open door as I put together a plan.

As expected, neither man noticed me slowly walking backwards, as they were too absorbed in their conversation. I noticed that the king seemed amused by how firm Zyglavis was being, and by the time my heel was up against the doorframe, Zyg’s stony exterior had shattered and he was demanding that the king not break his word and let us step through the door together.

As heartwarming as it was to see Zyglavis go to bat for us, I didn’t have time to get lost in how warm and fuzzy the whole scene made me feel. Instead, I channeled everything I could remember from my high school drama class and feigning depression interrupted their bickering.

“Can I at least say goodbye?”

Zyglavis ran over to my side and tilted my head up with his gloved hand, a resolute look in his eyes.

“This is not going to be goodbye. Naomi - I swear, I had no idea…”

“It’s ok. I understand where he’s coming from,” I said, trying to force my voice to quiver. “The king once said it himself...a man is no match for a God.”

“I’m pleased that the Goldfish understands even if my stubborn minister does not,” the king said with an amused expression.

“Of course. But...I am no man.”

Knowing that the king had a flair for the dramatic, I held my head high and smirked, allowing any semblance of upset to disappear.

I tossed my hair back and having dropped one of my favorite quotes from Lord of the Rings, pressed my lips against Zyglavis’ taking him by surprise as I clung to his back and flung us both backwards through the opened door.

I heard the king shout something behind me, and it was unclear if he were amused or incensed. With that said, it didn’t really matter seeing as how he was too late.

A strange sensation overtook me, and I found both the king’s shouts and my consciousness giving way to nothingness. I tried my best to hold onto Zyglavis, but unable to stay awake soon gave into the drowsiness I felt, as everything around me faded to black.

I woke up, eyes bleary, head pounding in a bed that I hadn’t been in for some time.

The sunlight that poured through my apartment window felt more vibrant than the sun I’d been exposed to for the past month and I smiled upon realizing that I was home. I carefully sat up in bed, suddenly remembering that it had not just been me who had gone through the door.

I turned and much to my delight saw a figure looking out the window.

“Zyg?”

“Naomi! You’re up!”

I was relieved to see that he had survived the trip, and as he ran to my side I smiled confident that my new, old life was just beginning.

“Wait - have you tested your powers?”

“No I…”

“Quick, try to make a social security card.”

“A what?”

I opened the drawer to my nightstand, and saw that my wallet and phone were neatly tucked away as they always were.

I pulled out my wallet and frantically found my social security card and driver’s license. From there, I fished out a passport and spreading the documents on the bed in front of Zyglavis, I prompted him to snap his fingers with the hope that he could muster enough power to replicate the documents for himself.

With each snap, I could hear his powers begin to fizzle out, but thankfully before they were completely gone he’d created everything he needed to work and live in my world.

Picking up his brand new social security card I glanced at his name and with a smile asked, “Lee?”

“I believed it to be customary that married people share the same name. Am I incorrect in that assumption?”

I shook my head no, and kissed him, not caring that my head was killing me.

Zyglavis had been conscious the entire time, and told me that I'd blacked out no more than a few seconds after we’d gone through the door.

Seeing as how I'd grabbed him before jettisoning us both through the portal, he’d naturally wrapped his arms around me. He'd held my unconscious body tightly pressed against his and when we made it all the way through to the other side, he’d discovered that we were in the small, studio apartment I had described to him back in his world.

From there, Zyglavis had carried my limp body to the bed and had watched over me before some sirens outside had distracted him. The noise must have roused me as well, which is why I woke to see him leaning against the window, peering down at an unfamiliar street as he tried to get a sense of what was going on below us.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “You told me that you wanted to come with me and I hope you aren't mad that I made that decision for both of us.”

He shook his head no and with his gentle smile said, “I'm happy you did. I never could have taken that kind of leap on my own. It's why I need you in my life.”

We kissed, and I felt myself shed a few more tears of joy as we fell back onto the familiar bed.

My head hurt too badly for us to do much more, and after enjoying a brief reunion of sorts, I reached for my smartphone which no longer was full of off brand apps.

Upon booting up it appeared that my month in otome-ville had meant being absent a week in this world. According to my calendar, it was currently mid-afternoon on a Saturday.

My work email was a complete and utter disaster, and I found myself in quite the predicament having disappeared without sending so much as an email or text. My boss went from fairly quickly from anger to concern in her emails, and I sent her a long text in which I let her know that I’d passed out in the subway. I claimed that a good samaritan had nursed me back to health, and that I’d been fairly out of it until today.

I apologized profusely, explaining that while I was still sick, and would most likely need a few more days to recover, I hoped that they would let me use the PTO I had accumulated. I noted that I hoped that my superiors would not hold this disappearing act against me as I truly hadn’t meant for it to happen.

She immediately responded, letting me know that she was happy I was ok and that she felt awful to hear that I’d been through such a terrible ordeal. Considering my flawless track record, she’d figured something bad had happened as I wasn’t one to just disappear, and told me to take as much time as I needed.

I felt relieved knowing that my vacation in the otome-verse hadn't negatively affected my work relationships, and breathing a sigh of relief filled my team in on everything that I’d told my boss (CCing her on the email as well). I apologized for any trouble that my absence had caused them and let them know that I’d be returning to work as soon as I could.

Considering all that I'd been through, I wasn't ready to rejoin the ranks just yet and with my boss’ blessing hoped that I could use the next few days to help get Zyglavis acclimated to his new life here.

I opened my text messages which were full of worried notes from concerned friends.

I maintained the story I’d told my boss Kari, which not only explained why I’d accidentally stood everyone up, but also created a lovely story that described how Zyglavis and I met. After apologizing and letting them know that I was ok, I mentioned that the good samaritan who had saved me was kind, wonderful, and happened to be single. I made it clear that I was fairly smitten with him and at the very least hoped that I’d made a new lifelong friend.

Immediately the well wishes poured in, and both Meg and Sarita sent seduction advice which was obviously not necessary but appreciated. My heart swelled with the realization that I was home, and that the friends I loved so much would soon be meeting the man I loved as well.

I also sent my parents a quick note letting them know that I’d been under the weather and was on the mend but still didn’t feel up to talking on the phone. My mom sent a text in response almost immediately, which told me to get well soon.

As the familiar names continued to pop up on my phone, I had to smile.

I was really home.

Zyglavis looked over my shoulder as I effortlessly navigated from message to message, app to app, checking emails and catching up on all the correspondence that I needed to take care of in my absence.

“Will I be getting one of those devices?” he asked me quietly.

“Yeah. You won't have Altair anymore - you’ll have to get used to text messaging instead of a little boy who delivers lattes,” I joked.

“What’s that folder?” he asked innocently, and I gasped as the realization sunk in that everyone I'd encountered in his world was neatly tucked into a folder in mine.

“Oh man, this now feels really weird…”

I tried to explain to Zyglavis best I could what he was about to see, but when my words failed me, I just decided hand him the phone.

Star Crossed Myth loaded, and he watched on dubiously as I navigated to the main stories and showed him the truth.

“But...no. This can’t be…”

“I’m sorry,” I found myself saying again. “That’s how I knew all about you guys.”

“What are these stories like?” he asked, before selecting himself. “Complicated and severe? I...Naomi, what is this?”

“They’re...huh, that’s odd.”

I clicked on Zyglavis’ main story, trying to show him the game version of himself that I’d come to know before meeting him. However, it failed to load, giving me error after error. Out of all the Gods it appeared that his story was the only one riddled with errors, and I decided to load Leon’s story in order to properly illustrate what it was that he was seeing.

As he began reading, I booted up my laptop and navigated to Voltage’s Facebook page.

I scrolled down, past their typical ads and social posts, only to stumble upon an announcement that addressed the fact that several of their stories were currently unavailable due to technical difficulties. The post claimed that their staff was working around the clock to resolve these issues as soon as possible, and that they appreciated their customer’s patience in the matter.

The comments in the post were overrun by people asking for refunds, and I noticed Zyglavis’ name appearing over and over, in addition to a few other familiar faces.

When I turned to ask Zyglavis if I could have my phone back he appeared to be perturbed and I immediately saw why.

He’d reached a fairly suggestive part of the game, and quickly handed it back to me noting that he’d hoped his story was nothing like that of the “lothario Lion’s”. Seeing as how the best relationships are built on an honest foundation, I explained to a fairly shell shocked Zyglavis exactly what these games were.

His face reddened and in an attempt to reassure him, I noted that in the time we’d been together he’d grown far beyond the “story” version of himself.

He nodded, but I could tell that he was struggling with the reality of the situation. On top of that, he was clearly uncomfortable with the thought that thousands of women had read about him in a romantic way, and as his cheeks burned I couldn’t help but smile at how lucky I was to be the only one who had gotten to know the real him.

“I understand that it is illogical for me to be upset over the men in this device but...”

“But what?”

“Those other men...what of them?”

I pulled up Her Love in the Force to show Zyglavis, and when I attempted to load Namba’s story, I saw that he was broken as well.

I wondered if it was possible that I was the cause of these errors, and found myself opening Kissed by the Baddest Bidder where all of Soryu’s stories were offline. From there, I loaded Eisuke’s but the game kept crashing every time Soryu was supposed to be in the scene, and I realized that choosing a life of crossfit over crime had potentially ruined a fan favorite game.

As I scoured the internet for answers, I discovered that during my absence Voltage had launched their new game Irresistible Mistakes and I downloaded it to discover that my read on Addison & Rhodes had been correct. I had been correct in thinking that the office building appearing in an instant was tied to the game being launched in my world, and as I browsed the possible love interests felt vindicated by the fact that Shun, Toshiaki, and Toma were all playable characters.

Unlike HLITF and KBTBB, Irresistible Mistakes seemed to be working fine, and I purchased Shun’s route only to realize within the first few scenes what was happening.

“Oh my God. That girl the king showed me...she’s his MC. That’s why his game still works…”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re proof that this was all real...that none of it was a dream. That’s why you don’t work. You’re here. But Shun...remember him? In front of the office…”

"This is...illogical but at the same time, your theory makes sense.”

Zyglavis’ eyes were downcast, and as he grappled with his new, difficult reality, I found myself feeling guilty. In his world, I had been the only one to fully understand what was going on, and even though he’d had an inkling, seeing him so distraught made me realize that he’d only grasped the tip of the iceberg.

I hadn’t thought about what it would mean to suddenly have your existence and everything you thought you understood turned on its head. I felt compelled to stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him, as I hated to know that my actions were causing him to look so downtrodden.

“I hope you don’t hate me,” I said tentatively.

When he didn’t respond, I gently brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him. To my relief, despite his clear uncertainty, he kissed me back.

“This is all rather troubling to me...but the one thing I know to be true is that I could never hate you.”

I kissed him again and told him that no matter what or who had come before, and no matter how weird this all was, what we had was real. We professed our love again and again, and eventually I decided to ignore the fact that my head still hurt and gave myself over to him.

I woke the next morning feeling like a new woman, and suggested that we start our day with what New Yorkers do best on a Sunday - brunch.

It was weird being in my neighborhood after a month of being away, and I was eager to show Zyglavis the best this city had to offer. I took him to my favorite local brunch destination where I ordered my go-to breakfast tacos with pork belly, scrambled eggs, cheese, potatoes, and austin green sauce.

Zyglavis ordered a more sensible egg dish and was perturbed to note that he “felt hungry” now that he was human. The sensation was new to him but he quickly noted that he didn't mind it, assuring me once more that he had no regrets.

From there I took him to the real sheep’s meadow, walking through a fully intact neighborhood that was not the dust bowl we'd experienced in his world.

“So many people!” he exclaimed, his eyes shining as he took in the landmarks and the city’s hustle and bustle.

“This is what New York City is really like. You’ll get used to it.”

We laid out on the grass for a bit, enjoying the pleasant day before heading to a Verizon store and creating a family plan so Zyglavis could have his own phone.

I taught him how to use his new iPhone over Black and Tans at La Colombe, in addition to sharing some NYC 101 tips involving how to use the subway, tricks for navigating the busy streets, and of course how to find a clean public bathroom now that he could no longer relieve himself with the snap of his fingers.

At the end of our first day together in New York City, we lay in bed exhausted but happy.

In the weeks and months to come we’d become like any other couple. We would go on dates around the city and occasionally would take a day trip or overnight trip on holiday weekends.

Zyglavis loved Jacques Torres so much that he ended up working there.

I was the primary breadwinner but that didn't bother me in the slightest as Zyglavis came home each day happier than he'd even been as a Chief Minister of Punishments.

As a human, Zyglavis smelled faintly of chocolate instead of lavender, and his kisses after work were always sweet. His salary covered his cell phone bill, utilities, and the occasional meal out. Considering he was a God who had no real concept of money, he didn't have any hang ups over his woman being the primary source of income in the way I'd suspended Shun or Namba might.

To be honest, I thought of them both from time to time, even though Zyglavis had banned me from playing my folder of otome games.

I understood where he was coming from, but truthfully I didn't have it in me to delete them. To that point, from time to time I occasionally revisited an ex or two during lunch hours at work or when we were apart and the mood struck.

Voltage never did figure out how to fix their games and (after a month or two of apologetic social posts) were forced to refund their customers.

It was quite the scandal within the community and I watched it unfold unbeknownst to Zyglavis. Several of his fans were livid and missed seeing him in their stories, and even though I understood how they felt I had a hard time caring seeing as how I had the real thing and couldn't possibly be any happier that I already was.

With work going well, and my relationship going well, I'd started my social life back up once I felt confident that Zyglavis was settled and comfortable in our small studio apartment without me.

Seeing my friends after all the time I'd spent away made for an emotional reunion on my end, and a confused first meeting of our dinner club on theirs. I was so happy to tell them all about my new boyfriend who had rescued me in the subway, and omitted his real back story seeing as how they'd never believe me.

Being the good friends they are, they were all super happy for me and soon enough I was introducing Zyglavis to them at Maya & Omar’s engagement party.

Zyg reverted back to his overly polite and stoic self at the onset of the party, but after a few drinks (and seeing as how his new body was not accustomed to drinking liquor) he loosened up a considerable amount.

I learned that night that Zyglavis was an affectionate drunk, who got along better with women rather than men, and ended the night dragging him away from my girl friends who were amazed at how open he was with his emotions towards me.

It was a bit embarrassing but also made me happier than I'd ever been in my life, and even though he'd later become sick at my apartment I didn't mind caring for him at all.

It's been over six months since I fell down the rabbit hole, and Zyglavis and I recently announced our engagement to my friends.

Zyg has said he’s excited about having a summer wedding though neither of us want to rush the preparations and have no problem with enjoying a long engagement. My parents love him, my friends love him, and most importantly I love him.

In fact, I love him more now than I did on that day I made the decision for both of us, and flung us through the door in the Heavens. To that point, I have no regrets and I'm pretty sure he doesn't either.

I've thought about how strange it is that things worked out the way that they did. I suppose I'll never really understand why I was picked to go down the rabbit hole, but these days I've given up trying to understand.

I suppose the moral of the story is that there's someone for everyone.

For me, that someone turned out to be a made up character in a choose your own anime romance adventure game...but that's most likely a fact I'll take to my grave.

These days, before I come home from work, I swing by Fairway market to pick up a few ingredients so I can make us a healthy dinner. Seeing as how Zyg is no longer a God, he’s learned the hard way that eating copious amounts of chocolate often leads to weight gain.

Being the loving, considerate, and secretly vain man he's turned out to be, he's been making an effort recently to lose the weight that he's gained during his first six months as a human. Even though it's just a slight belly, the loss of his perfectly sculpted physique (and specifically 6 pack abs) hit him fairly hard, and as a result I've been trying to be as supportive as I can.

Don't get me wrong - I still love the fluffier version of Zyg, but I can tell he's not as confident so we have been dieting together and in true, boring couple fashion, we even started going to the gym before work together.

Seeing as how Zyg is the first man I've ever lived with, I get a kick out of bringing home groceries for the two of us. Even though our relationship is now solidly out of the honeymoon phase, I still get a bit giddy when I think about doing those mundane, domestic activities together.

To that point, I think it’s fair to say that I’ve become one of those women I used to roll my eyes at, but I’ve found that being in love will do that to you.

I juggled the bags of groceries with opening the front door to my apartment as I stepped through, called out as I always did.

“Ziggy? Are you home?”

Lately it was a bit of a coin flip whether or not he’d be in the apartment as he’d made a few friends at work, in addition to a bartender who worked around the corner. He never stayed out late without texting, but the past few weeks I found myself beating him back to the apartment.

I kicked off my shoes, and dropped my keys on top of the small table in my foyer. It was then that a key card of sorts caught my eye, but before I could properly investigate it, I heard a familiar snicker come from my living room.

“Ziggy, eh?” the familiar voice taunted.

“Quiet!”

The snicker turned into a chuckle and I froze, too shocked to do anything other than stand there. I heard my wooden floorboards creak as Zyglavis appeared wearing a stiff, stoic expression I hadn’t seen on him for some time.

He took the grocery bags from me and in an annoyed whisper said, “We have a visitor.”

It was then that Leon appeared at the end of my foyer, and with his usual haughty expression he said, “I’m glad to see that you two are doing so well, but the king requests that you both return...and fix the mess that you've made.”

To be continued...in Part 50

http://emilyplaysotome.tumblr.com/post/161275875142/part-50-an-ending

IRL Zyglavis = the beautiful model David Chiang - Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/davidspecials/

Naomi’s NYC Apartment : http://www.decoist.com/2014-11-20/nyc-studio-apartment-design/

If you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend or buying me a coffee! My goal is to create an original web series so if you like my characters please consider donating something to help me get it made.

Thanks for reading :)

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Sorry if I missed anyone and let me know if you want to be added/removed!

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teamfreewill-imagine · 8 years ago

Text

The Benders

Summary: You and Sam work a case to try and get out of your emotional funk, but you end up in a lot of trouble. Luckily Dean, with the help of local law enforcement, locates the two of you in time. Words: 3.8k Sam x Jess, Dean x Reader Warnings: episode-related angst

A/N: this is part of my ‘Jess never died’ rewrite, find the masterpost here Beta: @blacksiren

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You and Sam took the lead on the next case in Hibbing, Minnesota. You both needed a distraction, and Dean and Jess weren’t going to argue with the two of you when you set your minds to something.

You were wearing your sheriff’s getup, feeling powerful with your badge and holster, as you stood in the witness’ living room, speaking with him and his mother.

“I know you’re just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already,” she told you, “I don’t see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it’s true.”

“Mrs. McKay,” you offered, “We know you spoke with the local authorities.”

Sam nodded, “But this seems like a matter for the state police, so...”

“Don’t worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan,” you added when Sam trailed off. “Just tell us what you saw.”

The boy nodded, looking up at the two of you.

“I was up late, watching TV, and I heard this weird noise,” he told you.

“What did it sound like?” Sam asked, and Evan glanced at his mom before looking back to you.

“It sounded like… a monster.”

You exchanged a look with Sam.

“Tell the officers what you were watching on TV,” Mrs. McKay prompted, unimpressed.

Evan looked at his feet, mumbling as he replied.

“Godzilla vs. Mothra.”

You grinned, “That’s my favourite Godzilla movie. So much better than the original, huh?”

Evan grinned up at you, “Totally.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding towards Sam. “He likes the remake.”

Evan pulled a face at Sam. “Yuck.”

Sam cleared his throat, shooting you an annoyed look that wiped the smile from your face.

“Evan,” he began, bringing you back on topic, “Did you see what this thing was?”

“No,” he admitted, “But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car.”

“Then what?” you prompted.

“It took him away,” he whispered, “I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound.”

Sam frowned, “What did it sound like, Evan?”

Evan looked up at him, openness and honesty shining through his eyes. “Like this… whining growl.”

Sam looked at you, and you nodded slightly.

“Thanks for your time,” Sam said, shaking hands with Mrs. McKay.

You did the same, and she walked you to the door.

“We’ll call if we need anything else,” you told her, and she nodded, tightly.

“His imagination, it runs away with him,” she sighed, and you smiled kindly.

“Don’t worry,” Sam told her. “Like we said, we’ll call if we have any more questions.”

She nodded, watching the two of you walk out to your car.

You met Dean and Jess in a local bar after changing into more comfortable clothes.

Dean and Sam were at the dartboard while you and Jess sat in a nearby booth, looking through papers and pages of John’s journal.

“Local police have ruled out foul play,” Jess read. “Apparently, there were signs of a struggle.”

“Well, they could be right,” Dean offered, throwing a dart for a triple eighteen. “It could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig.”

You shook your head, looking at John’s journal.

“Maybe not. Except for this,” you commented, pointing to the page as Sam and Dean walked over. “John marked the area. Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker.”

Dean frowned, turning the journal to face him.

“Why would he even do that?”

“He found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night,” you expanded. “Grabs people, then vanishes.”

“He found this, too,” Jess added, handing Sam another page. “This county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state.”

Sam hummed, contemplative. “That is weird.”

“Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds?” Dean asked, confused. “Jenkins was taken from a parking lot.”

“Well, there are all kinds,” you told them, reciting what you’d read earlier. “You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime.”

Dean didn’t look convinced, and you huffed in annoyance.

“Look, I don’t know if this is our kind of gig, either,” you defended, and he nodded, relenting.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted. “Maybe you should ask around more tomorrow.”

“Right,” Sam agreed, pulling out his wallet as you got to your feet. “I saw a motel a few miles back.”

“Whoa, easy,” Dean protested. “Let’s have another round.”

“We should get an early start,” you mentioned, looking up at Sam as he nodded.

“Fine,” Dean sighed. “I’ll pay the bill.”

He walked over to the bar as you shrugged on your coat.

“I’m gonna use the restroom,” Jess told you as Sam collected all the research. “Meet you at the car.”

You nodded, walking with Sam out to the impala. You paused when you got to the car, listening intently.

“Did you hear that?” you murmured, and Sam frowned.

“What?”

You shushed him as you heard it again, sounding like it was coming from under the car.

“Do you have a flashlight?” you asked him, and he reached into his pocket to retrieve a small one.

You bent down, shining the light underneath the car.

You gasped as you came face to face with a hissing cat.

“Shit,” you breathed, laughing at yourself as Sam helped you to your feet. “False alarm.”

He grinned, “Did Y/N Moore just get scared of a cat?”

“Shut up,” you laughed, before the smile was ripped from your face as something grabbed your ankles.

Your feet were pulled backwards and you fell forwards, your head smacking against the concrete causing your vision to black out almost instantly.

You jerked awake, instantly aware that you didn’t know where you were. You got to your feet, realising you were trapped in a cage, about seven foot high.

You turned to see Sam, crumpled over and passed out in the corner.

You rushed to him, crouching in front of him and shaking his shoulder, your hand finding the side of his head as he blinked his eyes open.

He gasped awake, backing away slightly, ready to fight, before he realised it was you.

“Y/N,” he breathed, pulling you into a hug.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, and you pulled back, helping him to his feet.

He walked to the edge of the cage, rattling the bars. Your eyes spotted something in a separate cage, half the size of yours.

“Sam,” you murmured, nodding towards the body on the floor.

“Jenkins,” he replied, confirming your suspicions.

You looked at Sam, fear coursing through your veins.

“I’m gonna get us out of here,” he promised, and you nodded, willing yourself to believe him.

He began kicking at the door of your cage, his boot colliding with the lock over and over, but nothing was budging.

Movement from the cage beside you had your eyes focussing on Jenkins as he started to groan.

“He’s alive,” you whispered, relieved as he groaned again.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked as Jenkins pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Does it look like I’m doin’ okay?” he grumbled, and you exchanged a look with Sam.

“Where are we?” you asked, and he shrugged, rubbing at his head.

“I don’t know. The country? Smells like the country.”

Sam nodded.

“You’re Alvin Jenkins, aren’t you?”

Jenkins nodded.

“We were lookin’ for ya,” Sam told him, and he rolled his eyes.

“Well, no offence, and excuse my language,” he added, looking at you, “But this is a piss-poor rescue.”

Sam shook his head, “My brother’s out there right now, too. He’s lookin’ for us, so-”

“So, he’s not gonna find us,” Jenkins interrupted, nodding towards the door to the room. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, waiting for them to come back and do God-knows-what to us.”

“What are they?” you blurted. “Have you seen them?”

Jenkins frowned, looking at you like you’d grown a second head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Whatever’s got us,” Sam clarified, “What’d they look like?”

There was a shuffling sound outside the building, and Jenkins nodded towards it.

“See for yourself.”

Sam stood himself in front of you protectively, reaching a hand behind him to take yours.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, linking your fingers together as two men entered the room wearing hats and black coats.

One kicked the side of Jenkins’ cage, causing Jenkins to move back into the corner, the other man using a key in the control panel in the middle of the room to open his cage.

Both men entered the cage, and Jenkins began panicking.

“Leave me alone! Don’t you take me, leave me alone!”

The men placed a plate of food in front of him and left the cage, twisting the key and removing it from the control panel, locking the cage door.

They left, and Jenkins began devouring his food.

You pulled on Sam’s hand, turning him to face you.

“They’re just people,” you whispered, and he nodded pulling you into a hug.

“What’d you expect?” Jenkins asked around a mouthful of food.

You shook your head, pulling away.

“How often do they feed you?” you enquired as he pushed the empty plate away.

“Once a day,” he told you, pointing to the control panel attached to a pole in the middle of the room. “They use that thing over there to open the cage.

Sam continued to ask him questions, but you were looking at the wires attached to the pole.

You followed the line of one of them, noticing that it hung low above your cage. You wouldn’t be able to reach it, but Sam might.

“Hey,” you interrupted, looking up at the metal wire.

Sam followed your gaze, nodding as he walked underneath it. He reached his hand up through the cage, grabbing it and beginning to pull.

“Well what do you think they want, then?” Jenkins asked.

“Depends on who they are,” you offered, and he scoffed.

“They’re a bunch of psycho hillbilly rednecks, if you ask me. Lookin’ for love in all the wrong places.”

Sam frowned, continuing to pull the wire loose. “I think that’s the least of your worries right now.”

Jenkins frowned at you, looking between you and Sam.

“What’s your deal?” he asked, and you raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You and your boyfriend, what’s your names?”

“We’re not-” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m Y/N. Sam’s my little sister’s boyfriend.”

He laughed softly.

“Does your sister know you’re messing around with her boyfriend?”

Sam scoffed, pulling the wire loose and knocking something to the floor.

“We’re not messing around,” he assured Jenkins, crouching to pick up what had fallen.

“What’s that?” you asked, and Sam just sighed, sitting back against the edge of the cage.

“A bracket,” he told you as you sat beside him.

“Well, thank God, a bracket,” Jenkins exclaimed, sarcastically. “Now we’ve got ‘em, huh?”

A loud clank sounded, and Jenkins’ cage door slowly swung open.

“Must’ve been short,” he said, letting himself out. “Maybe you knocked something loose.”

Something wasn’t adding up and, when looked at Sam, you noticed the same scepticism in his expression.

“I think you should get back in there, Jenkins,” you warned, and he frowned at you.

“What?” he asked, incredulous.

“This isn’t right,” Sam murmured.

“Don’t you wanna get out of here?”

You sighed, “Well, yeah. But that was too easy.”

He shook his head, making his way to the door.

“Look, I’m gonna get out of here, and I’m gonna send help, okay? Don’t worry.”

“No, I’m serious, Jenkins,” Sam said, “This might be a trap.”

Jenkins scoffed, opening the door.

“Bye, lovebirds.”

“Jenkins!” you called after him, but he was already gone.

“Well that was fucking stupid,” Sam grumbled, and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“How are we gonna get out of this alive, Sam?” you murmured, and he sighed, turning his head to the side and kissing your forehead softly.

“We’ve got to trust Dean and Jess,” he told you, “And not fall for any traps. Dean’ll have a plan though, always does.”

You hummed, contemplative.

“He didn’t have much of a plan when we were tied to trees waiting for a scarecrow to kill us,” you reminded him, and Sam laughed gently.

“Yeah, but I did,” he reminded you. “I saved your asses. He’ll save ours.”

He sounded certain, and the confidence in his tone put you slightly more at ease.

You exhaled deeply, letting your eyes close.

“These past few months I’ve been trapped, waiting for death, way more often than I’d like,” you commented, only half-joking.

“Yeah,” he sighed, putting his arm around your shoulders. “This job doesn’t really have a long life-expectancy.”

You didn’t reply. You knew he was right, it was only a matter of time before something got you. Hell, today could be the day you go. You were learning to deal with it, and when you thought about it too much, you panicked. So you tried to keep it off your mind.

“When we get out of here - and we are getting out alive,” he added, squeezing you closer to him, “If you want to get out, go live with your parents or finish college, we’ll do everything we can to help you.”

You opened your eyes, shifting to look at him and finding nothing but open honesty on his face.

“Sam, I’m not getting out of this game until we’ve put the bastard that carved me up six feet under,” you told him. “As if I’d ever leave my sister to go back to college.”

He laughed slightly, and you smiled, patting his shoulder fondly.

You jolted as distant screams of pain made their way into the barn you were kept in.

Sam’s smile turned to a grimace as you fell into a hug.

“It was a trap,” you murmured, and he nodded, holding you tight.

“Yeah.”

You startled awake as the cage next to you opened, the two men from before bringing another woman in.

You watched wordlessly as they locked the cage, leaving her unconscious body lying on the floor.

Once they’d shut the barn door behind them, you nudged Sam, rousing him from his sleep.

He blinked, wiping his eyes with his fingertips to clear the sleep haze.

“They brought someone else in,” you commented, Sam nodding as the woman groaned, sitting up and massaging her head.

“You alright?” Sam asked, the two of you still sat shoulder to shoulder against the bars of your cage.

The woman looked over at you, nodding.

“Are you Sam Winchester?” she asked, “Y/N Moore?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, frowning. “How-?”

“Sam’s cousin is looking for you,” she told you, and you both sighed with relief.

“Thank God,” Sam breathed. “Where is he?”

She coughed awkwardly.

“I, uh- I cuffed him to my car.”

You groaned in annoyance, hanging your head.

Of course, your one chance of a rescue was handcuffed to a cop car.

“And my sister?” you questioned, not looking up.

“Your sister’s fine.”

You jumped as you heard a low voice, your head snapping up to see Dean entering the barn.

“She’s back at the motel,” he told you, and you and Sam got to your feet. “Figured you’d kill me if I got her hurt trying to save you.”

“You’re damn right I would,” you mumbled, silently relieved to see him.

“Speaking of,” he continued, his eyes checking over you and his brother. “Are you hurt?”

Sam shook his head, “No, we’re good.”

Dean sighed, looking at you with relief. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

You blushed slightly, unable to deny that seeing him again made your heart lurch.

“How did you get out of the cuffs?” the woman spoke up, and Dean turned to see her.

“Oh, I know a trick or two.”

She stared at him, confused, and he jumped into action.

“Alright,” he murmured, looking at the doors of the cages. “These locks look like they’re gonna be a bitch.”

“There’s some kind of control right there,” Sam told him, motioning to the panel on the pole.

“Have you seen ‘em?” Dean asked, walking across to inspect the controls.

“Yeah, dude,” Sam sighed, “They’re just… people.”

Dean frowned, looking at you until you nodded, confirming what Sam had said.

“And they jumped you?” he asked. “Y’all must be getting rusty. What do they want?”

He started pressing different buttons, to no avail.

“I don’t know,” you told him. “They let Jenkins go, but it was some sort of trap. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Dean sighed, “Well, that’s the point. You know, with our usual playmates, there’s rules, patterns. But with people? They’re just crazy.”

Sam put his arm around your shoulders, resting his chin on top of your head as he sensed your tenseness.

“See anything else out there?” he asked his brother.

“Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back,” Dean commented, still trying out different buttons. “Plates from all over, so I’m thinkin’ when they take someone, they take their car, too.”

“Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?”

The woman in the cage next to you looked a mixture of hopeful and worried as she asked.

Dean smiled sadly.

“Yeah, I did,” he told her, and she hung her head. “Your brother’s?”

She nodded, and Dean shook his head, upset.

“Kathleen, I’m sorry,” he told her, pausing slightly before continuing. “Let’s get you guys out of here, then we’ll take care of those bastards.”

He walked towards your cage, pointing back to the controls.

“This thing takes a key,” he told you. “Key?”

You shook your head.

“I don’t know.”

When Sam shrugged too, Dean nodded.

“Alright, I better go find it,” he announced, turning to leave.

“Hey,” you reached your arm through the cage, catching his wrist.

Dean turned back to face you, his eyes flitting between yours.

“Be careful,” you murmured, and he nodded, pulling you closer to the bars to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah,” he promised, letting go and walking away.

You stepped back, Sam watching you carefully with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Shut up, Sam,” you grumbled as a smile made it’s way onto his face.

Minutes after Dean left the barn door opened again, but this time one of the guys from earlier came in.

He inserted the key into the control panel and the lock on your door clicked open.

He walked over to your cage, opening the door and stepping inside.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, and he didn’t reply, raising a gun.

“Hey!” Kathleen shouted, getting his attention long enough for Sam to grab the gun from him.

He put up a fight, but it was two on one. You got him down to the floor as Sam used the butt of the gun to knock him out.

You stepped out of the cage, leaving the door open and pressing randomly at the buttons to try and unlock Kathleen’s.

Once you heard it click, you opened the door and let her out. Sam came up next to you, checking over Kathleen to make sure she was okay.

“I’m good,” she insisted, and Sam sighed, relieved.

“Okay,” he nodded looking at you. “We need a plan.”

You helped Sam move another unconscious guy into Kathleen’s cage, locking it and taking the key.

Kathleen was standing over the oldest man, the father of this fucked up family, with her gun trained to his head.

You walked over, about to say something before she cut in.

“I’ll watch this one, you two go ahead,” she told you, and you blinked unmoving.

She looked you dead in the eye.

“Go ahead,” she confirmed, and Sam pulled on your arm, taking you out of the barn.

You went towards the house, meeting up with Dean out the front just in time to hear a gunshot coming from the barn.

Dean pulled his brother into a rough hug.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he murmured, and Sam laughed slightly, pulling back and patting his shoulder.

“I can’t make promises like that, man.”

Dean rolled his eyes before turning to you, pulling you into a firm hug.

You went with it, unashamed to admit that you practically melted into his arms.

“Never go missing like that,” he murmured, and you nodded, squeezing a little tighter.

“You were worried about me,” you commented, and he pulled back, brushing your hair from your face with a soft frown pulling at his brows.

“Y/N, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you while you’re still mad at me,” he told you, quietly.

Your heart was racing as you searched his eyes, finding nothing but worry and honesty.

Sam cleared his throat, and you pulled back, smiling awkwardly at Kathleen as she walked over.

“Where’s the girl?” she asked Dean.

“Locked her in a closet,” he confirmed. “What about the dad?”

She paused, swallowing before answering.

“Shot. Trying to escape,” she hastily added.

All of you knew it was a stretch of the truth, but nobody questioned it.

“So,” Kathleen said after the silence stretched a moment too long. “State police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They’re gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest you’re all long gone by then.”

You nodded, smiling in understanding.

“Thanks,” Dean offered. “Hey, listen, I don’t mean to push our luck, but we’re kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?

She scoffed, shaking her head.

“Start walking,” she told you. “Duck if you see a squad car.”

Sam nodded, “Sounds great to me. Thanks.”

They turned to go, but you stopped for a moment, hugging Kathleen.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

She nodded as she pulled back, wiping her eyes.

“It was really hard not knowing what happened to him,” she admitted. “I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth, but it isn’t really.”

You smiled sadly, and she sniffed, shaking her head.

“Anyway, you should go.”

You nodded, squeezing her shoulder before turning to walk away.

“So,” you said after a while, looking at Dean out of the corner of your eye. “You got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh?”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Just sayin’,” you grinned, nudging him with your elbow. “Y’all are getting rusty.”

Dean let out a loud bark of a laugh, throwing his arm around you to pull you into a headlock, kissing the top of your head before letting you go.

You ignored the smile you got from Sam, looking straight ahead as you carried on walking.

Your emotions were all over the place but in that moment you were just grateful to be alive.

Alive and able to figure out what the hell your heart was feeling.

Things could only get better, right?

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#the benders #season one #series rewrite #dean x reader #sam x jess #dean winchester #sam winchester #jessica moore #supernatural #spn #s1 #1.15 the benders #1.15

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