#and it’ll be better then all of y’all’s ‘gaming laptops’

[i-am-going-to-skream]

Ok so

Laptops are just compact PC’s, right?

And a PC is just computer parts in a case…

And custom built PC’s are a very common thing….

What if I… built a PC… inside a briefcase… it should be possible… then I could have a laptop without the downsides of not being able to fix it… I’d get better performance… and I get to fully customize it….

And the best part? I now have a spy computer.

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

Hey guys! Gonna give a lil update (both a mini life update and a update for the au stuff):

Tumblr is still messed up for me (currently posting this from pc) so I’m guessing it has to do with the bells they added to the dash considering that’s when it happened, so I’m assuming it’ll be back once they take them away, but if not I might have to go to staff or something we’ll see 

Anyway I got hat game on my pc for Christmas! but it sets my laptop on fire and runs very badly lmao so I’m probably gonna see if I can get a gaming computer for my birthday so I can play it properly 

Also sorry for not being very active lately, we went on vacation but I got sick afterwards and then a big snow storm hit, so just got a bit overwhelmed from all that happening one after another lol, I’m not sick anymore thankfully but the snow is still around 

In au related news as y’all know I’ve hit some art/writing block lately, so I’ve not started on the next prologue chapter just yet but thankfully I did get the plot of it figured out in a discord call, as I had been struggling to think of how it would play out bc it’s gonna be a A B plot situation, but I finally got a way for it to work out nicely ^^ so I got a little outline of the events jotted down, just haven’t started on the actual thing yet 

So after that chapter the prologue will be finished and so things can flow into the main fic, speaking of the main fic you’d assume I’d start working on chapter 2 after finishing the prologue and you WOULD be right, but I recently decided I want to go back and edit/rewrite chapter 1 just bc my writing improved so I wanna add extra scenes or better descriptions etc etc so it’s getting a revamp but not an outright rewrite just bc that thing is way too long to redo it entirely 💀

Also on the topic of writing i kept having the issue of thinking all the chapters outside of snatchers prologue chapter (heartburn) where all not the best writing, especially compared to aforementioned snatcher chapter that had way higher writing quality, I originally just chalked it up to being in the zone™️ when writing that one, but I realized I think it MIGHT be because it’s the only one not being adapted from a comic, all the others had comic or tumblr related things tied to them, but the snatcher fic was all it had going for itself, thus it had more descriptive words or spent longer on events etc because it didn’t have anything to go off of, where as the other fics ended up accidentally feeling more akin to scripts to me in how they did descriptions, ESPECIALLY forget me not because it’s literally just word for word event for event the same as it’s comic form, not sure if I’m making sense but what I’m getting at is that I’m glad that after this next chapter we are in completely new territory! No comics or ask blog stuff is tied to any of the chapters to come, so perhaps this will mean their writing will improve because they’ll only have the words to rely on, like I said idk if this little rant was necessary I just enjoy talking about my writing process is all 

But uh yeah tldr: next fic chapter will happen eventually, after that I’m going back to redo the first main fic chapter, and sorry I didn’t get to do any holiday art but maybe I will last minute do some doodles I dunno lol, OH, and I still gotta figure out a follower milestone event bc I’m super excited about it!^^ like I said of anyone has suggestions I’d love any ideas! 

Happy holidays! :3

[velvetstreets]

Who’s Better?

Jack x Reader x Urban! 😮‍💨😈

Concept: Y/N being FWB with both Jack and Urban, and now they wanna know who’s better in bed.

A/N: hiiiiii! this is my first jack fic, and it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfic lol so I hope this goes well! This is just an (eventually) smutty concept I came up with earlier today lol, feedback is v much appreciated and let me know if i should make a pt 2 😛. I also wrote this on my phone cause my laptop is actin up right now 😩 so let me know if there are any issues trying to read it!

PART 2 HERE

PART 3 HERE

MINORS DNI 18+, implied smut, mentions of drinking and smoking, details of sex.

———————————————————————

You had been friends with Jack and Urban for a while now, having met them at an afterparty that you were DJing for. You three bonded over music and soon became great friends. Eventually Jack started to take you on tour with him every once in a while - only when you permitted him to, as you still wanted to get gigs on your own and not depend on the fact that you had a friend who’s a famous rapper who needed a DJ.

Being on tour with the boys made your relationship with them even closer, in ways you didn’t expect. After many giggly drunken nights out and chill nights smoking weed on tour, you had eventually slept with both Jack and Urban respectively. To your relief, neither of the boys had an issue with this, and to your surprise, they actually wanted to continue sleeping with you. When you questioned them why (as they could hook up with multiple girls during tour), they explained that they were each tired of the attachments that many of the girls they hooked up with came with, and wanted something more consistent and comfortable with someone they each knew. Not necessarily a relationship (yet), but a more friends with benefits type situation. That’s how your arrangement with Jack and Urban came to life.

Currently, it was a Friday night and you were hanging out at Jack and Urban’s apartment, watching some random show on Netflix while the three of you sat around drinking and smoking. Eventually you all got tired of the show and started talking when Jack said something that caught you off guard.

“Y/N who’s a better fuck, me or Urban?”

“What?” You turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah-“ Urban chimed in. “Who’s better, me or Jack?”

“No one is better or worse, y’all are just… different.” You explained, looking between the two men who sat on either side of you.

“Different how?” Jack asked, prying for more details.

“I don’t know… just different. You’re more soft and attentive and caring, and don’t get me wrong - you can get down and dirty if you want to, but you like to take your time with me and show appreciation for me and my body in a gentle way that makes me feel like I’m the only person you crave.” You explain as a sly smirk creeps it’s way onto Jack’s pink lips.

“But you like it NASTY, which pleases the freak in me.” You laughed, turning to look at Urban.

He smiled at you with a joint hanging out his plump lips.

“You always wanna go ROUNDS, and are so adamant about making sure I cum several times, love to overstimulate me until I’m basically happy crying.” You say as your heart rate starts to increase and your legs clench together. All this detailed talk about sex with the both of them was making you horny.

Both Jack and Urban noticed this and grinned, making mental notes about the different things that appealed to you sexually.

“Okay so then there’s an obvious solution to see who’s better.” Urban said as he exhaled the smoke from his joint. You looked at him cluelessly, trying to get your mind off of the pool of wetness that had started to form in your panties.

“We switch up our game.” He continued. “Next time we have sex it’ll be slow and intimate, and the next time you fuck Jack it’ll be rough and nasty.” He said, looking to Jack to see if he agreed.

You looked back at Jack who was already nodding in agreement and had a competitive and excited look in his blue eyes.

“Y’all are crazy, I’m not about to have sex with y’all just so I can judge you guys?” You exclaimed, not wanting anyone to feel bad or that they weren’t good at sex.

“Y/N baby, you’re getting too in your head about this. I promise we’re cool, no one’s gonna be upset or jealous. This is simply two friends trying to see who can take care of their third friend the best, sexually; - an observation if you will- just for fun.” Jack said, his hand coming down to rub your inner thigh.

“I just don’t want anyone to feel excluded or bad about themselves.” You muttered, looking at Jack and then at Urban.

“There’s nothing to worry about sweet face, all you need to do is relax and let us take care of you and that sweet pussy of yours, yeah?” Urban spoke, his voice lower and now filled with lust as he moved to kiss your temple.

“O-Okay” You whispered, shuddering at Urban’s breath against your neck and Jack’s hand starting to rub your pussy over the black silk booty shorts you had on.

“So who goes first?” You questioned.

“Me.” Jack said with a devilish tone in his voice and hungry look in his eyes.

“Go ahead and grab some water from the fridge already, cause when I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to leave my bed, much less walk to the kitchen.” He whispered in your ear as Urban got up off the couch to leave so you and Jack could have the place for yourselves.

“I’ll be back for you later babe” Urban winked and kissed your cheek as he and Jack shared a mischievous look and he walked out the door.

As soon as the door shut, you turned to look at Jack, who was already looking at you.

“Upstairs. Now princess.” He spoke, his deep voice solidifying the fact that your panties were now indeed soaked.

You gulped, nodding and running up the stairs to Jack’s room as his laugh trailed behind you, excited for what he had in store for you.

[violetlilysunshine]

Flip These Lines

Boyfriend Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Summary: Helping Harry with some work usually comes with a little loving. 

WC: 1,544

Warnings: friendly teasing, suggestiveness, one sexual-ish joke

A/N: y’all asked for it. Plus it’s nice to break up all the Chris I’ve been posting with a little bit of Harry :)

MASTERLIST - Join my TAGLIST

“Hi!” you grinned as Tom opened the door for you.

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon in,” he smiled back, pulling you in for a one-armed-hug, “good to see you, ‘s been a while.” 

“Yeah, filming’s been crazy,” you answered, “glad to be back here though.”

“Well, Harry sure missed you. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got home last night,” Tom informed you, making you chuckle, “glad you guys got to reunite though, he’s much more tolerable now.” 

“Hey, I can hear you!” Harry called from the other room.

You laughed, shaking your head at Tom, “I’m glad we got to go out last night, but I missed you too, ya know?” you teased Tom, knowing Harry was still listening.

“Yeah? Missed you a lot,” Tom said, playing along with you, “what d’ya say we hang out later, maybe grab some dinner together?” 

“ALRIGHT GET IN HERE!” Harry yelled from the other room.

You and Tom laughed for a second before he held his arm out, gesturing you towards the living room. 

Harry flashed you a bright smile from his spot on the couch, he was resting against the corner, half on the back of the sofa, half on the arm; he had one leg tucked under the back cushions, the other bent over the edge with his foot resting on the floor. He opened his arm towards you, his smile widening even more.

You practically skipped over, sitting down in front of him and starting to pull your legs towards you.

“Ah,” he scolded, “no shoes on the couch, Tom’ll kill you.” 

You laughed lightly, knowing he was absolutely serious, putting your feet back to the floor, untying your laces, and toeing off your shoes, before pulling your legs up again and crossing them criss-cross-applesauce.

Harry was quick to lean forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He had his laptop open on the cushion next to you, a text document pulled up.

“Watcha workin’ on?” you asked lightly, expecting him to not answer and close the lid.

“Oh just tryin’ to write a script,” he answered, snuggling into your neck, “actually,” he pulled back, “would you maybe want to read it? I’d love your input…” he trailed off.

You were stunned that he was willing to share with you; most things with him and work were kept very tight-lipped, either by his choice or the studios’. When you didn’t answer right away, he started to get nervous.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, darling, don’t worry about it.”

“No no no,” you hurried, pulling the laptop across the couch and closer to you, “I want to,” you smiled, “just surprised you want to and can share with me is all.”

You hunched forward over the screen, resting your elbows on the cushion and your chin in your hands. He followed you, one arm still wrapped around your middle, the other on the trackpad as he scrolled around the screen. 

“Alright, so start here, love,” he whispered in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to make suggestions if it doesn’t sound good or doesn’t make sense or something,” he smiled, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder.

“Okay, babe,” you smiled, leaning back into him, taking the weight off your arms, and starting to read. 

His hand rubbed up and down your side gently, the other rested on your calf, as he hunched over you. He placed a few kisses to your neck and shoulder as you slowly read over the script. 

“So what’s the idea here?” you asked quietly, in your own little bubble as Tom, Harrison, and Jacob played video games on the TV mounted next you, “like what’s happening before this?” 

He explained a little bit, giving some character descriptions as well, before letting you read again.

You sat there quietly for probably about 10 minutes. Harry’s hands passed soothing touches to you; his lips tapped your neck, jaw, and shoulder occasionally. His eyes scanned the page as well, checking for typos and things like that because he might as well. You could feel his chest and stomach rise and fall against your back as he breathed, comforting and relaxing you. 

“Hey,” you spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper, “I think you should flip these lines,” you said pointing at the screen, “it’ll flow better and the tension will build smoother, ya know?” 

He reread the section, his hand ceasing its movement on your tummy as he focused: “Yeah, love, that makes sense, I think I like it better that way too,” he smiled, highlighting the text and flipping the lines around. 

“Okay, now I gotta read that again,” you giggled, scrolling back up to get into the scene again with the new order.

Harry chuckled at you, pressing another kiss to your cheek, “whatever you say darling.” 

He suddenly tightened his hold on your waist, giving you a small hug, “sorry,” he whispered quickly in your ear.

“For what?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“Don’t think I did that when you got here,” he smiled, “or this,” he said, just before pressing a kiss to your lips.

You giggled as you pulled back, “mmm I don’t think you did either.”

He smiled at you, nudging his nose against your cheek, “okay, back to reading.” 

You turned back to the screen, starting the scene over again and then continuing on. He smushed your cheeks together as he read with you, wanting to see the new section as well. 

You read past it, liking the new change a little better, and so did he. A little further down you highlighted a section and made a note, “sorry, this just sounds a little weird, could use some rewording.”

“You don’t have to apologize, love, I want your opinion.”

“Okay, well, just a note for later,” you smiled, “do with it as you wish.” 

He chuckled at you, “alright, darling, whatever you think.” 

You smiled, going back to reading, nearing the end of what he had.

Jacob tapped Tom’s leg, pulling his attention from the screen, “hey,” he whispered, grabbing Harrison’s interest as well: “look at them,” he said, nodding towards the two of you, hunched over the computer, curled up in each others’ space.

“I think it’s cute,” Harrison whispered back.

“God he’s so in love with her,” Tom smiled, shaking his head.

You were too focused on the script to be aware of anything else happening in the room; Harry, however, heard everything. His attention was caught as soon as the screaming at the game stopped.

“Can’t believe she’s getting to read the script that we don’t get to know anything about,” Harrison added.

“Yeah,” Tom said a little louder, pulling your attention away from the screen.

“What’s that about?” Jacob asked, nodding at Harry.

You weren’t sure exactly what they were talking about, but you clasped your hand over Harry's on your tummy, turning your head to focus on the conversation.

Harry didn’t know what to answer; this was something he told the boys that he ‘wanted to do on his own’, but he couldn’t help but bring you into the mix. 

“What can I say,” he answered them after a while, “you’re not as cute as her,” he shrugged, squeezing you lightly once more.

You smiled, sinking back against him a little further and he placed another peck on your cheek, just next to your ear. 

The three boys laughed lightly, shaking their heads and turning their attention back to the game while you both went back to working. 

You soon finished what he had written, but when you got to the end, you didn’t make any effort to move. You wanted to stay held in his grasp like this forever; you loved having him wrapped around you and were determined to soak up as much of it as you could.

“So what’d you think, darling?” he asked, pulling you to rest back on him as he settled against the arm again, “honestly?” 

“It was really good!” you answered, turning your head to look up at him, “can’t wait to see it on film,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his jawline.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, doubting himself a little bit.

“Of course! It’s gonna be big, I know it.”

He smiled at you, about to say something in response, but Tom beat him to it, “would you two get a room?” he called, watching the two of you fawn over each other.

“What’du say?” he asked, passing you a wink.

“Mmm, sounds lovely,” you smiled, sitting up.

“Ewwww,” Tom groaned, scrunching up his face.

You and Harry both laughed loudly at that; you picked up your shoes and Harry grabbed his laptop before taking your hand and guiding you towards the hall. 

“We’ll try to keep it down!” he called over his shoulder, laughing loudly.

He led you into his room, gesturing you to get comfy on the bed as he turned to close the door behind the both of you, “pick a movie, love.” 

Just before the door latched, you heard a yell from Harrison, “USE PROTECTION!”

“DUDE!” Tom yelled in response, causing Harry to laugh again and finally close the door. 

TAGLIST: @xamourx @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss @bvttercupbby @mcushvft @elishi03 @golden-hoax @mistakenpersonn

[ttheriddlerr]

WORK IN PROGRESS

summary : in which, steve is a lover waiting to be discovered.

warning : unedited sorry!

pairing : steve rogers x black!reader

a heart of steel they say, can be broken with the right tools.

sure you didn’t think that applied to you, or your leader captain america. the right tools might as well be a shot gun and some bullets., or a hammer or drill of some sort.

sure a young adult like you could dream about being saved from this misery you called life, but you knew it was only a dream.

a paradise even, something so close and that seemed so real but yet so unattainable.

late at night your mind would drift, to a place where you were at peace. free from fighting, free from violence, just peace. the white fence home, with a loving husband and cute kids.

sure you never had any ambition to actually have any of this things, but companionship wouldn’t hurt.

someone to lean on when times got hard would be nice, a shoulder to at least lean on.

unknown to you and literally anyone else in the house, steve also craved that.

a love, an affection, someone to fill the void that they named his heart. sure he had someone, something for the void, but it was gone now.

this wasn’t some type of fiction where he could fix everything, this was real life. sure aliens came out the fucking sky almost everyday, but penny is in the past. not ever to be touched or changed, just a fond pool of memories.

maybe he could rebuild the concept of love for himself instead of living in this hole built with walls around him of self pity and hurt.

late night fantasies never lasted long enough, morning swung around faster than expected.

mornings were always peaceful, the sun shining in through the windows and some breakfast another team member had made on the table.

this morning you happened to be on breakfast duty so you made pancakes and eggs, nothing was better than that for breakfast in your opinion.

you and steve both sat across one another and just ate in silence, as you both waited for everyone else.

“you light was one all night, might wanna remember for shut it out.” steve spoke up, you light infact was on all night.

“oh yeah, i was up pretty late, sorry for the disturbance.” you said while still eating your breakfast.

“no disturbance here, just don’t want tint both down our asses first thing in the morning.”

oh yes the classic, moody, ass chasing tony stark, sure he could be a dick, but a pretty funny one.

“well good morning princess [name], i’m sure you slept amazing since you had no problem running up the electric last night!” tony semi-yelled, you and steve both groaning in the process

steve nudged you and said

“see this is what i mean”

“calm you tits tony, i made breakfast to make up for it” you jokingly said and slid him a plate

to which he half smiled and sat down, not without beginning to eat obviously.

“okay so the game plan for today is to work, you [name] i have paper work for you.”

you which you groaned, you hated paper work, why no action for you today!

“oh shush [name] it’ll be fun, and for you steve also paper work. unless something else comes up that all. i’ll speak to the other once they wake.”

you both nodded and finished off your breakfast, going your respective ways to start your day.

you started with a two hour training session alone in the gym, even if no action for today you still had to stay in shape.

once you were done with that, you stay around the living room or outside doing paper work on your laptop.

which by then steve would join you and you’d both sit in comfortable silence.

today was different, steve sat with you but he wanted to talk today. not that steve didn’t talk but he was way more talkative today, which you didn’t mind.

you both talked about random everyday things until papers were done, and you all had time to chill until dinner and bed time.

it was nat’s night to do dinner so you were sure y’all were getting chinese take-out, not that you minded at all.

you and steve sat on the couch and watched ninety day fiancé, steve didn’t quiet understand the show. he was used to meeting people the old fashioned way, you had to explain countless times that this was just all for show.

you and steve had spoken about y’all’s love lives before, nothing weird. you admittedly thought steve was a good looking guy.

you both shows each other mixed signals but nothing further.

sure you found him attractive but you couldn’t let your guard down, not even for him. in the field of work that you both work in, you could die any minute.

sure he may have superhuman abilities but you didn’t. you had a “power” that was only useful in combat, not letting you live till you were 150.

and ontoo of your adult habits like drinking and smoking, you weren’t stay for a long time nor a good one.

but of course as you’re reminded everyday of this life, you picked this lane of work, you weren’t forced.

well that questionable but that didn’t matter now, you are here now. you have somewhere to stay, you just risk it all every hour of your life. no big deal, seriously you loved it.

death wasn’t something that scared you like it did before, being close so many times it wasn’t something to fear but something to embrace.

sure not everyone in this line of work thought like this, but it’s whatever.

as the ninety day fiancé episode ended the chinese take-out finally came, you got orange chicken and fried rice.

something simple, you planned to persuade the team into watching lovely bones for the hundredth time.

they always said yes, so you and steve ended up wrapped in a blanket, just like the other members.

“steve move over, you legs are too big!” you whisper yelled to steve, who’s thighs were currently crushing your legs.

“sorry sorry [name], just lay your legs on mine it’s fine.” he whispered back so you did.

you put your legs over his, and also layer your head on his shoulder. totally unplanned but he didn’t seem to mind, he actually leaned into it.

oh you were definitely gonna think about this for the rest of the night!

about thirty minutes into the move you and half the team were dead asleep, steve and a few other still awake.

most went back up to their rooms some stayed back and finished the movie.

steve made an effort to carry you back to your room, like the gentleman that he is.

once you hit your bed you woke up, he was walking out.

“steve thank you, seriously.” you thanked him and he stopped near your door.

“you’re welcome [name], you looked exhausted so it’s only the right thing to do.” he said while looking at you

“i think you’re very attractive.” you blurted out unintentionally, as your started to cover your mouth in shock.

“same here doll, whata ya i take you somewhere nice huh? just us two, me and you, tomorrow at eight. sound good hun?” he asked with such confidence

of course you said yes, nearly screamed it but remembered people were sleeping. so much for not letting your guard down.

that night you did infact have great dreams, great dreams about steve and his advances.

he dreamt of you too, in the same way, excited to see what tomorrow brung.

i guess you could say, you found the right tools after all.

[nekomas-kuroo]

do nothing day

ft kuroo tetsurou and oikawa tooru

request: Hi there!! Could a request headcannons or scenarios for Kuroo and Oikawa when their s/o notices they've been overworking themselves and decide to plan a "do nothing day" to help them relax and take care of themselves?? I just need some soft moments with these overachieving boys 🥺💕 Thank you so much!! 💫

a/n: fun fact i’ve been ignoring this ask for months at this point cause i also overwork myself

masterlist

kuroo tetsurou

first off, kuroo is always this kind so he’s gonna go out of his way to make fun little productive dates all the time

it’ll just be you two, a bunch of snacks, and whatever you need to get done, whether it be a project you’re just doing as a hobby or homework

but when these start to get more frequent and then stop altogether in favor of only working on things, kuroo decides to step in

he invites you over for one of these comfy hangouts, except this time he literally stops you at the door

REFUSES to let you even attempt your work. if it’s homework due soon, he’ll help you with it later so you still get it done on time with minimal stress

but honestly? you’re overworking yourself and he’s not having it. he’s worried about the bags under your eyes and the lack of overall life from you

so he sets up a day to do nothing. sure, you can just watch tv, talk, play board games etc, but the point is to not do anything productive

like he’s not even gonna let you cook unless it brings you some serious stress relief like y’all are ordering out

at some point you try to talk about your latest project and he literally throws a pillow at you

“y/n the point of today is to NOT talk about work” “but--” “that’s it you’re napping with me”

oikawa tooru

oikawa is famous for overworking himself. the absolute king of not knowing when to take a break

you’ve both been incredibly overworked lately, and at this point it’s borderline unhealthy

a lot of the time you’re telling oikawa to stop working his knee too hard and injure himself more

and somehow, he finally gets it. he reaches a god tier epiphany.

he hates that you overwork yourself faaaaar too much. and magically he finally puts together that you’re both doing what you warn the other not to

so he decides it’s time to for a day to do absolutely nothing

except, you’re both holding each other accountable to not doing anything

oikawa tries to come up with a better lineup for the team? congrats his phone privileges are revoked for the next hour

you try to get in some extra study time? good news your laptop is now confiscated for the next hour

eventually, you two fall into a good rhythm of doing nothing but spending time together, your work forgotten

“hey y/n, so about your laptop” “it’s okay tooru i don’t think i wanna do any work” “that’s great baby! but i think i lost it” “you WHAT”

[passionate-hedgehog]

Band Aids and Lame Exes

Pairing: Damien Haas x Reader

Warnings: There’s stuff, man  Not like awful things. Someone’s just super grouchy in the mornings. And it shows.

Word Count: 1151 

A/N: I wrote this installment of the prompt notebook series a little quickly. I ended up putting it off to the last minute because...idk why. Idk why I do anything tbh.Both of my best friend’s now actively read my works and that thought used to terrify me. Now? I’m grateful for friends that WANT anything to do with my creations. There’s a reference to the Blacksmith Shops and Musicals in here (when they bring up the restaurant) but you really don’t need to have read it to grasp the convo. But if you want to read it, you can find it in the mastelist “Lots Of Words”. ♥

Summary: Some days aren’t meant to be yours. Some days your boss calls you at the butt crack of dawn and some days metal shelves in a closet stab you. Some days are your days. Some days, you end up owning with someone by your side.

“You did what now?”

Y/n nibbled on her bottom lip but wouldn’t look Courtney in the eyes. “I told Ian to suck my dick…”

“Because he called you at six in the morning?” The blonde actress cocked her head. 

“Who gave him the rights to call me that early??”

Courtney threw her hands in the air. “He’s your boss, Y/n! He’s going to have to make early calls sometimes!”

“I take melatonin. It takes a while to wear off. If he doesn’t want early morning threats then he shouldn’t be waking me up at the ass crack of dawn.” Y/n swirled her to-go cup of tea before taking a sip. She caught Courtney’s incredulous look and merely shrugged in response. “Listen, I warned all of y’all before we started planning for SMOSH Goes Camping. If I have plans in the morning, I’m taking the gummies. Don’t talk to me until after I’ve slept them off.”

“Oh...uh…” The two women turned to see Ian hovering in the doorway of the break room looking as if he wasn’t sure whether it was safe to enter or not. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s safe, man. You don’t gotta suck my dick.”

”Jesus…” Courtney mumbled. 

”Actually, I need Courtney to fill in on set. Shayne just called in late.”

”Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” The blonde nodded and waited for her boss to leave. “Good job. He’s absolutely terrified of you now.”

Y/n shrugged again. “Not my fault.”

————

Y/n found herself in the prop closet, the real reason for her stress. Normally, she loved the storage unit. She loved taking things down and putting them back in a new order. Did she have problems?...maybe. But it gave her a sense of peace. She had a different task at hand, though. One she wasn’t necessarily excited for. She was meant to make sure everything was put back from shooting SMOSH Goes Camping; a new adventure series akin to winter and summer games. The premise? They had to sleep in tents and cook their own food. The games were largely based on legitimate camping activities. The whole thing was her idea and she had no idea how it got approved. Yet, there she was. Sitting in the prop closet. Making sure everything was put back where it needed to be because her project was officially done. 

She enjoyed looking through all of the items of past SMOSH videos. But her mind was set on her task. She began reorganizing the gear.. She found the space where the lanterns went; by the fake brassy orchestra instruments. The extra sleeping bags were meant to go into a pile near some plastic finches and other bird paraphernalia. She’s heard about the Bird sketch...but she knew she wasn’t brave enough to watch it. She’s heard things...things that made her regret listening in on an OG main cast conversation. 

She went to put back the tiki torches against the back wall when she felt something sharp knick her leg. She pulled back from her position and leaned down to see some blood starting to trickle. Y/n closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply. It’s not that deep, she thought to herself. It’s just a little blood. Walk yourself out of the closet and go to your desk where your band-aids are.

She agreed with her mental conversation and left the small room, focusing on her journey to her desk. Once she got there, she plopped into her chair and let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Y/n dug through her little box of first aid trinkets that sat on the corner of her desk. There were different colored band-aids but she knew her current situation called for a neon pink one. 

”Hey, Y/n” A voice called from her side, making her guts go flying all over the inside of her stomach. “Did someone get hurt?”

”Mm...a little.” Y/n stretched her leg out a little so Damien could see the damage. “But it’s fine.”

”Can I help? I know you’re not a fan of your own blood.” The actor let his backpack slide to the ground. “Do you have wipes? Because I know for a fact you weren’t about to put that on without cleaning it first.”

Y/n gave an indignant “Yes, Mom.” which caused Damien to flick her in the knee cap. She then handed him an antiseptic wipe and watched him tear open the wrapper. 

”Do you need to hold my hand for this part? Totally fair if you do.”

”Like at the restaurant?” Damien looked up and caught her mischievous gleam.

His blush went down to his neck. “I mean, yeah if you want that. I’m down. It’ll just be until the pain is gone.”

Y/n chuckled. ”How bold of you, Haas. To assume I don’t want to hold your hand all of the time. 

He didn’t say anything as his free hand found one of hers. His eyes didn’t meet hers as he applied the wipe to the cut on her upper shin. 

”Yaaaaa that’s banANAS.” Y/n sucked in air and tried not to damage anyone or anything else beside her. “I absolutely DESPISE doing that.”

”Oh, come one.” Damien began with a smirk as he applied the colorful bandaid. “Holding my hand can’t be that bad.”

”Ugh. It’s the absolute worst. Ten out of ten: never doing it again.” 

Damien looked down to notice that their hands were still together. When he tried to pull apart, Y/n held on tighter. 

”Ten out of ten of other people. Only I get to do this.”

”Yes, and you did. Now I need it back.” He stood up and tried to pull away again. 

”Oh, no. That’s not happening. This hand? Mine now. Better find a chair and take a seat. You’re gonna be here for a while. I have to finalize those edits for the SGC promos.” Y/n didn’t look at him as she opened her laptop with her free hand and began to type in her password. 

”I have to film today. My call time is in 15 minutes.” Damien replied as he gently ran his thumb over the space between Y/n’s thumb and index finger. 

The woman looked up and to the side where Damien was standing and pouted. “Fine. You can go...but I guess that means you gotta take me out on a regular old-fashioned date, then. My ex never took me out on them. He said there was no aim to them.”

The actor picked his backpack up and slung it over his shoulder. He situated it before responding. “Well, he sounds lame and I’d like to respectfully disagree. I’ll do whatever it takes to hold your hand again.”

After Damien walked off, Y/n faced her laptop. She caught Monica’s eye and winked. She was glad she had someone to talk over the new developments of hers and Damiens growing...whatever they could call it. 

[brittapcrrys]

so my laptop fell in half last night - it still WORKS but i have it strapped to my v first laptop thats like 13+ years old and weighs 2kg bc.... i still have it, and it’s strong and sturdy enough to hold the 2 parts of the new, physically broken one at a functional angle. all the plastic and metal casing and joints are completely fucked and the screen/lid part just gave out while i was watching smth last night.

BUT in order to get in touch with the australian customer support for this laptop, i have to CALL THEM or use whatsapp, and i need a reliable phone in order to do both of those things and mine is....not. it glitches when i type, it wont take photos, it loses charge super quick and now thinks 50% battery is “critically low” & shuts down then after like a MAXIMUM of 1hr after fully charging. (sidenote to say in my flustered state last night i unintentionally went to the North American support site and y’all have an in-site online chat support feature which is GOOD and NORMAL and then they were like ‘ok i will switch u to the aus office’ and i expected the same thing but no ~contact us on whatsapp~ bitch WHAT the fuck. and u can allegedly use that on a computer but u have to do it via the mobile app and scan a qr code from ur browser onto ur phone????? absolute bullshit. the company doesn’t even make phones)

so. if i disappear or stop contacting ppl im “fine” but it probs means all my devices have become completely unusable xoxo

in the meantime i need to figure out an affordable way to get a new laptop that i can game on w/o being a super high-end fancy gaming laptop, and also a phone that will work where i live & that i can HOPEFULLY hold in just one of my tiny hands (2 to type whatever but if i cant hold it n read with just 1 hand bc it’s too large or heavy FUCk off that’s why u make tablets). a couple friends - have made some suggestions but im rly not likely to get any financial (or even emotional bc like....the social and feel-good and calming and ~sense of achievement~ and creative outlets i have are all....on my laptop or phone like i have limited independence w/o a job or driver’s license and these 2 devices are like.... It. so. being without is not rly an option in terms of uhhh a safe or healthy way for me to exist for v long esp bc my therapy happens online or over the phone now). im rambling bc im stressed but.

if anyone has suggestions please lmk!!!! i dont wanna ask for d*nations or anything bc i can’t rly offer anything in return ESPECIALLY while my laptop’s like.... i am scared to move it or open more than 1 tab at a time bc those 2 wires are barely holding on at the hottest part of the computer :////  n also bc.... i will survive, im not w/o food im not w/o my meds im not abt to lose the roof over my head or ANYTHING, i know it’ll impact my depression and anxiety negatively and most of my strategies to diffuse those .... are attached to internet or device access in SOME way but. i’ll cope. but i just... i can afford to buy ONE or the OTHER and probably a low-end version of either that will die on me within 12-18 months again anyway so id rather find a way to go a BIT bigger/better and hopefully get more life out of them idk idk

[apathycarestostudy]

Any studying, motivation and procrastination tips please? Desperately in need of some before a new academic year starts.

Hello hello! Yes! I’m sorry I took a bit to get back to you with these - I just wanted to give you the best I got. So here ya go, I mixed up everything you asked for in a couple of strong tips. I’ve divided into preparing for the new semester, study tips, and then procrastination tips with a sprinkle of motivation all over it.

Prep:

Sooo the academic year is right around the corner (or dreadfully yet, already here), and you need to shift to get with the times. Fixing your sleep schedule? Getting your syllabus ready? That’s all important and good, but how do you keep the determination strong as the first few weeks go by? How to prepare better?

make a lessons learned note

I learnt this from my internship. It’s a good practice that after a project, you take some time to review what happened during the project and create a final report, concluding it with a couple bullet points of the lessons you learnt from it. If you need a feel of what that looks like, here’s my lessons learned from last semester:

Using OneNote is a waste of time

If you don’t keep up in the beginning, you’re going to show up for attendance and give the bare minimum to move on

You need to learn how to speak up during class - you know the answer, what’re you so nervous about?

Don’t fear marking up your books - it’s yours??? You paid for it??? Using highlighters are useful if used appropriately

Be careful about helping people - you’ve been caught four times helping friends while they kept stuff from you and got ahead

Y’all I had to stop myself lol. I planned to write my top three, but then kept clicking enter again and again. Well. Now you know my concerns. 

Getting back on track though, you should take some time to write down the stuff you learned from last semester’s experience to know what you’re going to take with you, and what you’ll quit doing. It’s a strong, positive start, and it prevents you from making the same mistakes again.

delete/move stuff off your phone + organize your laptop’s folders

It’s better to keep our phones clear and ready for the new semester’s mess, right? I have a bunch of screenshots, and files, and notes on my phone that I don’t need to keep anymore, but I’m a bit of a hoarder :))) I like to keep stuff in case I wanna look back, be that girl people just know has something they’d need, or hell if I need to retake a class (it’s happened unfortunately). Maybe you got a junior you want to pass your stuff along to. So what do you do? Move it to your laptop of course!

Well, that’s what I do. If you don’t have a laptop, you can upload it somewhere (google drive etc.), attach them on emails, anything that works for you! There’s always somewhere you can put your stuff that’s private and safe.

That goes into my next point - be sure to take the time to reorganize your spaces now. Since I put it on my laptop, I organize my folders to my liking, make sure everything is where it should be with older ones, and create new ones for the coming semester. Just pop on some music, sit down and get cracking. It gives me a pleasant feeling after I look at everything when I’m done.

set up your calendar/planner!

This is a recurring tip that I think is good enough to reiterate. Whatever method you use to keep track of stuff needs to be updated, upgraded, and ready to go! If you’ve used something that failed mid-way through last semester, or you didn’t like but had to keep with it because you were in too deep, put that in your lessons learned record. Here’s your chance to change to a better system. It’s fine if you already started your new term - it’s still early enough to switch/set up a new one!

Make sure you don’t overdo it though. The point of this is to keep track of, say, assignments and quiz dates, not spend an unnecessary amount of time organizing and stuff and falling into the pit of preparing to study. If it works for you and has been working for you - keep going! But if it’s taking time and having any negative correlation to your performance, it’s better to do away with it than to keep going and have it be another lesson learnt next semester. I’ll be the first to say that I tried setting up a bujo for myself - bought markers and washi tape and all - and I gave up after three days of using it. And I set up an entire month and then some. It hurt my soul to admit that it was a waste of time for me, and not keep beating at it, but I did, and now it’s sitting here mocking me everyday. But I have time to watch it mock me ;) 

My go-to organizational system: Microsoft To-do (not sponsored :((), phone’s calendar, phone’s notepad. That’s it.

create a night routine

People usually say fixing your sleep schedule and having a night/morning routine is good, but in my opinion, a night routine is stronger than both. For some reason, for the life of me, I can’t get my sleep schedule right unless some force stops me from staying awake. I tried getting in bed early and throwing my phone across the room - but I’d lay there for hours thinking about the next day so I don’t bother anymore. The morning routine just ruins my mood because I’d either fail miserably and feel worse, or feel overwhelmed. It’s better if both happen either circumstantially or organically for me. 

Night routines set an easy-going mood, and it’s full of potential because it also sets the scene for the next day. By night routine, I don’t mean what you do before you sleep, I mean the consecutive things you do every night. For example, I play a round of games with my siblings (card games and board games), then shower, do my skin care routine (wash-toner-moisturizer that’s it lol), watch a video as I’m combing my hair (and then watch a couple more), feed my turtle, and then see what I want to do. Sometimes I sleep right after, other times I’m on my phone or reading a book. But just this set of recurring events calms me down when my life is chaotic, and it’s easier and more doable than morning routines for me.

Action:

Now we’ve set the scene, so it’s action time (I’m so lame). 

don’t let work pass you by

In regards to studying, this is the - BIGGEST - tip I can ever give you. The ironic thing is, it’s still going to happen no matter how much you try, and that can damper your mood and your drive, but here’s my tip: MILK IT FOR ALL IT’S WORTH!! 

If you know it’s going to happen eventually, don’t let it affect you - focus all your efforts not in doing it everyday, but maintaining it for as long as you possibly can. Don’t let your studies pass you for even a second. Work it like you work a job as long as you can, and you’ll end up surprising yourself on how much you had completed when you gotta review for quizzes and exams. 

You know how they say exercise and earn your shower everyday? How about study and earn your play time everyday :)))

if it does, work backwards

So we’re here. You’re behind by two weeks. Like I mentioned up there, we knew we were going to end up here eventually (and if you didn’t, share your ways lol. no matter how much I cred myself with studying and getting shit done, I still don’t know what’s going on), so now what do we do? Work backwards. The prof/teach is at point S and you’re still curling the bottom of J? Start from S and go to R, then Q, then P....while maintaining the new stuff you’re learning after S. Pinch it in. We should aim to follow the class as much as we can so it’s more effective to study backwards and keep going with it. It’ll also help killing the thing that’s refusing to let you go faster with the beginning stuff, and you’ll be reviewing what you learnt in real time along with the class. 

Don’t know why I said the previous tip was the best I had to offer when we both know that this one is the real G.

pathetic notes are still notes

This one is a weird one - I had an issue with notes for a beat. I have this belief that you should always make notes every class, no matter how much new stuff you learn, but then there’ll be days where I write three lines and it just hurts my soul for some reason. I guess it’s the incomplete page? The three lines I’ll add tomorrow and face this again? Not sure. But whatever it is, do not stop writing notes! If you learn something new that’s not written anywhere, or hell you just wanna jot it down somewhere more accessible, always write it down, no matter how pathetic your notebook’ll look. I had to get over that, so I thought it would be good to mention. Always. Take. Notes. Nothing is too much information on the race to securing your livelihood.

If you can’t get over it, maybe try printing the slides and making your notes on the borders. I started doing this for more technical courses that don’t get a lot of notes, and it works really well having it in one place.

(I should pin a picture, idk, I’m really proud of it.)

starting strong is good, consistency is even better

In the end, that person who walks in stronger than last semester are plenty, but the one who wins in the end is always that one person - what makes them different? They don’t watch the ones who’re running strong in the beginning and mess up their pace by either trying to keep up with them, do more, or discourage them. They maintain a consistent effort and benefit in the end. It’s the story of the hare and the turtle - consistent, slow effort beats rushing and getting out of fuel in the last stretch. 

There was this one semester where it seemed like half my class decided that they were all going to be on all of a sudden, and it threw me off, made me insecure, and then I started comparing myself to them. The only thing that saved me was that I kept my consistent effort in the meantime because I had consequences if I didn’t perform - so at the end of it, it didn’t matter how hard they started. Only two out of the thirteen elevated their rank. And I was where I needed to be, so that feeling was wasted.

Well, not completely wasted now since I’m telling you. Focus on yourself. Stay consistent. It’s good to be aware of where everyone is, and use it to motivate you, but no negative feelings that’ll hold you back. Release it.

(also pro-tip: teachers don’t care about the loud ones, they care about the consistent ones)

Procrastination:

Now we got the ball rolling - how to avoid this monster? Also, if you still haven’t gotten the ball a-tumbling,

what do you fear?

Oftentimes it’s the fear of something that hinders us from starting. My common fears that keeps me procrastinating are fear of failure, fear of taking too long and wasting time, fear of finding out how little I know of the thing I haven’t learnt yet - I could keep going forever. It’s easier ignoring it and treating it like it’s not there than to face it, I know. But we wanna be better, so how can we?

Write down what you feel, get it out, and then study. A lesson I learnt from last semester was that journalling before I studied helped immensely. Just try it for a session - get out what you’re thinking about, and end it with an action item (I’m going to do xyz now) and then do it. It’s like a weight being lifted off of you. I’ve never felt so light studying in my life, I feel. 

do, don’t tell yourself you will, do

shameful self plug: read this to see what I mean (specifically the you don’t need a lot to get started ramble) 

don’t take on more than you can chew

Something that can kill your grind is if you overwhelm yourself by tying yourself down to things you know you won’t be able to handle later on. It kinda plays off the doing too much in the beginning - you’re setting yourself for failure if you don’t think through your decisions, and then fall into procrastination with the things that’d breed the most consequence. So be careful.

I’m not saying don’t apply yourself - it’s really good to get as much experiences (fun and useful) as you can. But don’t let it be at the expense of what matters. Your health, your faith, your studies - all these things matter more than....insert something here....yeah.

start everyday intentional, end every night with intentions

I’ll end it with this. Start your day intentional on getting stuff done, and you can cleanly avoid procrastinating. End it with good intentions for the next one, and you’ll keep this habit going. Whatever that is, finding your happy place, making a to-do list, praying, journalling, talking to someone - always try to wake up with the mindset that this’ll be your day, and end it with a pat on your back and a promise to do better - if you managed or not. Everyday is a new chance. Every midday is a chance. Now is your chance. It’s just a matter of being hungry and taking it.

Ooof I took water breaks writing this, and it still felt like I had more to say. Sorry for the length lol - I hope this helped in any way. And good luck! New semester, same you, new mindset, better results ;))  (I’m so lame lol).

By the way y’all, if you happen to be loud and consistent, share those tips also lol. 

Here’s to our collective success!

[marveloussupernerd]

champagne problems - Yoosung

Back to my evermore inspired series :) hope y’all like angst

Warnings: angst, mentions of mental illness, stressful situation, rejection, language

Summary: Yoosung had everything prepared for the perfect night to propose to you. But he wasn’t prepared for you to say no

Yoosung had really gone above and beyond for your birthday. He had planned a large party with his family and the RFA in one of Jumin’s large summer homes. He invited your family but they were too far away to attend. They did wish you happy birthday though!

Everyone came other than your family. All the RFA members, even V. Yoosung’s mother and father and sister. The party got started relatively quickly. Yoosung’s sister splashed open a bottle of champagne for you all to make a birthday toast, Zen pulled Yoosung’s mother to the dance floor, you were in awe by it all.

“Yoosung, this is so sweet!” You held onto his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. This is great.”

“I’m happy you like it,” he smiled. “I know you aren’t big on giant parties or anything, so I tried to keep it smaller... I hope this is okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Will you dance with me?” He asked eagerly. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. You danced for a couple of songs until your heels started to hurt your feet; then you led him back to sit down on one of the plush couches in the room.

“My feet are killing me,” you complained, taking off a heel to make sure you didn’t have any blisters.

He chuckled. “I told you you don’t have to wear heels! It’s not like I’m tall or anything.”

“I know. I just like them. Sorry I had to take a break,” you apologized.

“Nah,” He grabbed hold of your hand, turning to smile to you. “This is fun too.”

“You’re so great.” You flushed. He was. This was all so perfect. “I really don’t deserve you Yoosung.”

And you didn’t. He could do all of this for you. Set everything up perfectly. Got your favorite flavor cake. Got all your closest friends together in a way that wasn’t overwhelming. Every song that played was a song that you liked. He thought every single thing through.

“Of course you deserve me,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “You make me so so happy.”

“But this? For your birthday we ordered pizza and stayed in playing LOLOL.” You had thought it was a good idea at the time. But in comparison, wow, your birthday party for him was awful.

He squeezed your hand. “And I thought that was great. Hey, you wanna do cake now?”

“Of course I wanna do cake, you kidding?”

He had gotten you a fancy looking two-tiered cake. It was absolutely stunning. He even had candles for each year placed on top, perfectly spaced out. When Yoosung committed to something, he made sure it was perfect.

You hated when people sang happy birthday to you. It was so awkward. What would you wish for? For things to stay exactly like this. For things not fo change. This, right here, was perfect.

The thinking helped you ignore the song. You blew out the candles in one try (since they were all concentrated so close together) and the room cheered. Yoosung cut your piece of cake first. It was good luck.

The cake was as delicious as it looked. It was so perfect. Everything about tonight was so perfect. The light chatter as everyone talked about the cake. The lighthearted questions Yoosung’s mom asked, like if you had the next party date picked out and if Yoosung still stayed up all night playing games.

Yoosung quickly steered off that topic with present time.

Zen had gotten you a spa day. The two of you went the other day and got mani/pedis and facials. Jumin had gotten you a new fancy dress for the RFA parties. He gave it to you early so you could wear it tonight though!

Jaehee got a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, for when Yoosung was too loud playing and was distracting you from your work. Yoosung’s sister got you a bottle of wine. His parents got you a scrapbook filled with your memories together. It was adorable. V got a gift card, Classic V. Seven got you a new modded laptop. You weren’t sure what it did, but eh, you’d figure it out later.

“Thank you all so much,” you said cheerfully, gathering up the wrapping and tissue paper to throw away.

“Wait! Uh, I have a gift for you too,” Yoosung announced. His voice started off loud but became more timid.

You smiled, moving over to him to cup his cheek with your hand. “You didn’t have to get me anything. This party was everything I could have wanted today.”

“No, please.” He covered your hand with his, taking it off his cheek and holding it tight. “You are so amazing. From the moment I met you... yes, even over text, I knew you were special. You remembered the little things I talked about, sympathized with me when things got hard, and showed me how to be brave and responsible. And that’s before we even started dating!”

You giggled. He wasn’t wrong.

You didn’t expect him to continue speaking. “And since we’ve been dating, my grades have gotten better, I feel like I know what I’m doing with my life and I’m confident in it. You make me feel confident in myself. And proud. And when I’m not feeling good about myself, you’re there for me.”

Why was the room silent?

Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“And I want you to keep being there for me. Forever and ever more.” He... got down on one knee? He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring? Was this really happening? “Will you marry me?”

It was.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear anything but ringing in your ears. Time seemed to stop. What would you say? You had wished for things to stay the same; this was the exact opposite of your wish.

You dropped his hand. And ran up the nearest flight of stairs. Through the hall. Turn to another hall. Pick a random door on the right. Lock yourself in there. A bathroom. You couldn’t breathe.

But now you could hear. At least, you thought you could. It was hard to tell; everything was silent except for the humming of the bathroom fan.

You weren’t sure how long downstairs was in silence. How long you stood in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, asking yourself for an answer. Why had you run away? You were happy with him. Why didn’t you say yes?

His whole family was there. His sister was splashing champagne. Your friends were there. He wanted to share the happy moment with everyone. He wanted you to say yes, get so excited you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss in front of all your friends. He wanted them to applaud. He wanted his sister to ask you if she could be a bridesmaid way too early. That was his mom’s ring. You knew them well enough to catch that. She had given him her ring. She had known it was going to happen.

Why hadn’t he ever asked you about marriage beforehand?

You couldn’t blame him. It was all your fault.

You were stupid. Why wouldn’t you marry him? You loved him. You had no reason.

Were you that broken that you couldn’t even accept this? Were you unwedable? Did you think somebody would make him happier? You had said earlier that night you didn’t deserve him.

How would you leave? Would you break up? Would you be kicked out of the RFA?

Your choices were to either jump out of the second-story bathroom window and try and direct an Uber to this place without getting caught, or face them downstairs.

The first almost sounded better.

Technically you could hide here. There were plenty of rooms.

He had planned everything so well. He had never planned if you would say no.

You sucked it up. You had to do something. You had to apologize. Had to explain yourself. Had to try and mend the pieces of broken glass that had been Yoosung’s heart. Being gone probably was making it worse. You left the bathroom and walked through the halls that you had earlier ran through, approaching the stairs.

“I’m sorry.” It was V’s voice.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve embarrassed myself... and her... and I don’t even want to think about the secondhand embarrassment you’re all going through. I just, thought I had it all planned out.” Yoosung’s voice was nasaly. That’s how you could tell he was going to cry.

“Oh Yoosung.” His mother. You forced yourself not to get upset and cry.

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

“You can come home and stay with us for a while. It’ll get better.”

“Maybe she wasn’t ready! Did you ever talk about it beforehand? She’s probably just overwhelmed,” his sister said, trying to keep some optimism in her voice.

“I don’t know... I thought we were ready. We live together. We spend almost every waking second together.”

He was right.

“What are you gonna do?” Zen asked. His voice was hushed.

Yoosung sniffled. “What can I do? It’s clear she doesn’t want to be with me.”

Your heart was cracking, beginning to splinter.

“Well. She would have made a lovely bride. It’s a shame she’s fucked in the head,” Jumin commented, his voice as even as usual. “There’s nothing you can do about it though. Someday you’ll find the real thing. And it’ll be worth it all in the end.”

Your heart broke.

Not just for Yoosung. But to hear your friends speak of you that way.

How would you leave this house?

The room fell silent.

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Yoosung whispered.

Shit. What do you do? Where do you go? Maybe you should have jumped out the window after all. You treaded to the first room you came across. He’d find you regardless.

“It’s okay,” his mother comforted. “We’ll go if you want. Feel free to come home anytime.”

The front door opened, then shut after a moment.

Footsteps made their way up the stairs.

You were crying.

He knocked on the doorway. You hadn’t bothered to close the door.

You turned to face him. His eyes were red. His nose was running. It seemed like he had done a good job not crying in front of them, but you could tell he could break at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, tears falling down your cheeks quickly. You wanted to hug him. You couldn’t.

His own tears began to fall. He walked closer to you, then took a seat on the bed. His tears fell. He sobbed. You couldn’t hold him. You had always held him when he cried. He had always done the same for you. Now you were both a few feet away, crying, unable to comfort one another.

“I don’t even have a reason,” you cried. You sucked in a big breath of air. You could feel yourself near-hyperventilating. “I’m just an awful person. I’m just not ready for that. I don’t know.”

He shook his head vigorously. “I should have seen the signs, wherever they may have been.”

“I don’t know if there were any...”

His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, not a tight grip by any means, but one firm enough to make sure you knew he was there. “No!” His voice rose shakily, tears still evident in his voice. “I know you best. I should have found the signs. This is my fault.”

“It’s not. It’s mine. You did everything right, Yoosung.”

You both were quiet, aside from the sniffles.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked quietly. Were you even allowed to use that word anymore: we? After everything you had put him through?

He sighed. “You can take the car home. I’ll take the train and find somewhere else to stay for the night.”

You wanted to sob out no. That you needed him, especially right now. You had no right to. Your body wouldn’t even let you say it.

“We can talk about it another time... I just, need to sit on this for a while.” He explained. He fished around in his pocket, taking out the car keys and setting them on the bed next to you. Then he stood. “I’m gonna go...”

You couldn’t speak. You could only sniffle and look up at him, fresh tears still forming.

“Listen, don’t drive until you calm down. And... I know everything is fucked up but text me when you’re home. Please.” His eyes were watery, glistening, begging you.

You still couldn’t speak. You nodded.

He left.

[lilywoood]

You’ve got a mail Part 3/?

Hi so after hours of debating if I should post or delete part 3 I decided that I was going to post it, I hope it’ll be as good as the sneak peek I gave you and that I didn’t make you wait too much, I hope y’all like it and don’t hesitate to hit my ask box if you want to be tagged or if you want to get more sneak peeks ♥️!

Tag list : @diazbuckleysworld @translucent-bisexual @cherishingstydia @felicitous-one @comablog2 @justsmilestuffhappens @gxtop @chrrlees @hardychick89 @jb-ap-94 @chioink @peroquenotevean @tk-carlosforlifex @nighting-gale17 @fyeahhipsterdoctor @leslilupe @anthony-e-stark-3000 @haderofthesociety @iamonlyaliveformalex @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @serena040506 @multi-fandom-writing @my-name-i-we

Words count : 1571

Song : Bang Bang - Nancy Sinatra

Sleeping was more penance than relief as he couldn’t close his eyes without being constantly haunted, tortured, reminded by how much his teammates, his family hated him, haunted by the sound of their laughs, by the impact of their insults, by the venom of their remarks.

He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop tormenting himself, couldn’t prevent his mind to play his days, all the overheard conversations, and not so discreet whispers on loop in his head, he couldn’t help but remember their faces, their snarls every time he entered a room, he couldn’t help but hear their voices… his voices, as he was told over and over again that he wasn’t needed, wanted, that it was too bad the ladder truck hadn’t crushed his whole body…

He prayed for a dreamless night, he prayed his mind to stop the self-persecution, to stop thinking about them, as they never did think about him. He wished he was bold enough to down the six pack in his fridge, the one who was calling his name every day, so that he could pass out, so that he could finally and peacefully rest but like all his nights since the lawsuit Buck found himself once again starring at his computer screen, thinking about what he would say to TK and how he could help the equally tormented Texan firefighter.

He remembered TK’s last answer, remembered how he could feel his distress, how he felt the same, he remembered how they chatted until dawn about wither they should keep fighting, should keep proving their worth, their right to be among their brothers or if they should just give up as fighting was making more miserable, he couldn’t forget the last words they exchanged that night.

From TK: My mother used to tell me that even if we’re blood related my father would never love me as much as he loves his firefighters family and that what made me want to be part of it, I wanted to be seen and loved too, I fought and for a brief time I had it, my dad love and attention, I was so happy, I felt whole until I realized that he loved firefighter TK, he only saw me when I was part of the team, outside of it I was nothing.

From Buck: I didn’t have anything outside the 118, when I got the job I was the happiest in the world, for the first time I knew what it felt to be loved, to be appreciated, my parents weren’t that great and Maddie was gone, I had no one, I just had them, after the truck incident I fought, I trained to be back with them cause I missed them but they replaced me, they taped her name over mine and they treated her even better than me and to make things worse I learned that it wasn’t the Head that didn’t want me back, it was Bobby, it felt as if maybe I wasn’t good enough for him, for them, I mean they’re all I have….

From TK: They meant more for you than what you mean for them and that what hurt the most, that why you have to move on and let them go, you can’t keep feeling miserable for people who don’t deserve you Evan.

From Buck: I know, I’m still foolishly hopping though.

TK wasn’t online that night, he didn’t have anyone to turn to, to talk to, he couldn’t bother Maddie, and even though Hen told him she was there, he couldn’t help but let the little voice convince him that she only said that to be kind, she didn’t meant it, she wasn’t expecting him to call her, confide in her, she wasn’t actually there, no one was.

Sleepless nights were becoming more and more common for him, his body grew accustomed to the lack of rest, his mind not so much, the voices were increasingly present, allowing himself to become more and more apprehensive and stressed at the sole thought of going to work the next day, what once was his home, his safe heaven, quickly became his personal hell.

He was changing himself quietly when Bobby and the rest of their team cornered him, they barely let him button his pant before barging into the locker room, all wearing their signature ‘‘we hate you’’ glare, he quickly rose himself waiting for Bobby to tell him that it was it, he was thanked, fired that they didn’t want him in this family anymore.

-So I had an interesting conversation with the Heads today, he started making Buck gulp in fear, apparently I can’t have one of my guys on light duties for more than two months, he waved dismissively, so, he sighed, as of today you’re officially back on call, he announced looking at him expectantly.

-Thank you I guess, Buck articulated not meeting his eyes, I…I won’t let you down, let any of you down, he croaked still fixing his shoes.

-I hope so Buckley, the older man retorted before turning back and leaving the room.

He waited until the footsteps vanished to let out the breath he was holding, he then let himself fall on the bench behind him not once acknowledging the fact that someone stayed behind, it wasn’t until he hear Eddie clear his throat that he gave him his attention.

-Listen Eddie, he began but a single look from his teammate made him flinch and quiet down.

-You might be reinstated, Eddie roared getting up from his place, you might be back on the team, back on call, he enumerated walking toward him, but you’ll never be a part of this family again, he sneered fist clenched at his side, so don’t try, he huffed, don’t try to mend things, don’t try talking with us from now on we’re only colleagues Buckley, he deadpanned leaving the locker room.

And just like that everything went silent, he could only hear the sound of his shattering heart, the wail of his broken soul, the realization hitting him like a truck, it was meaningless, there were nothing holding him back, nothing to keep him fighting, nothing and no one worth fighting for, everything was silent and even if the siren were getting louder, even though Hen kept on calling his name he couldn’t move the violence of his heartbreak, of his grief nailed him to the ground.

He could handle light duties, could handle the glares, the critics, the insults and even the bullying sometimes, he could handle being isolated, handle eating alone and hiding in his car to shed the tears he held up all day, what he couldn’t handle, couldn’t support, couldn’t accept was his teammates lacks of professionalism, he couldn’t handle the fact that they couldn’t let go of the grudges they held against him during calls.

He was only doing his job, only asking the routines questions when Bobby decided it was the right times to belittle him in front of his team and the victims, making him pass for the dumb blond he wasn’t, making him regret the day he started to think of him as his hero, his model.

He was sitting gloomily in the locker room when Hen found him, his gaze fixed on the dark screen of his phone, he didn’t acknowledge her presence, didn’t raise his head and gave her the little smile she was so used to get by now, he was only looking at his phone, only staring at him with sadness and confusion.

-Something’s wrong Buckaroo, she breathed sitting next to him

-I...I asked for a transfer after Bobby told me I wasn’t reinstated, he revealed quietly his sight still on his phone, and I learned today that they actually accepted it, he revealed in a mirthless laugh.

-Why didn’t you tell me...tell us about it, Hen chocked, I never thought you all of people would actually give up, she frowned grabbing his arm, Evan, she pressed using his name for the first time.

-I’m not giving up, he swallowed facing her, I fought, I tried, I did everything to get them back, to get my family back, he hissed tears streaming down his face, I never gave up, he roared pointing to himself, I never gave up, he breathed kneeling down tiredly, it’s a losing game Hen, he half smiled, it’s better to accept defeat, he shrugged.

-Where are you transferred, she queried staring at him,

-Don’t know yet, he shrugged, could be on the other side of LA or in another state, he revealed, told them I was pretty flexible, he joked miserably.

The spell was broken, just like Cinderella after the clock struck midnight, the mail was a reality check, it was the sign he was waiting for, the one TK was talking about, his Californian dream was definitely over, he didn’t know how to process it, didn’t know how to accept that after three years he was ejected from his earthly Eden.

He found himself once again the target of a dreamless and sleepless night, once again facing his laptop screen, once again messaging the only person able to get him

From Buck: It seems that the sign I was waiting for came earlier than expected, I don’t know if I’m ready to give up yet.

From TK: It’s not giving up, it’s moving on.

[btssaysstudy]

Valentine’s Day || BTS JK

Genre: Fluff Paring: JK x reader A/N: My first fanfic hehe, hope you like it and do drop a message if you did!

In University, you joined a dance club as an extra curricular activity and that was when you met your best friend — Jungkook. Everyone in the club was familiar with each other and you had many events together already. It had turned into your family in university.

“He said I looked good in my recent post.” You had to admit that you sounded vain and shallow when you said that to your best friend. Jungkook chuckled, “I’m telling you he’s interested.”

“Or he’s just being nice.” You countered, to which Jungkook shrugged his shoulders. You took the drink you ordered and walked away with Jungkook to your table to have your lunch.

You hung out with Jungkook the most in school since you guys took the same modules and in the same year. “Anyway, enough about me, any updates on that girl that texted you?” “Nothing really, she’s another one that thinks we’re dating. I don’t understand why a girl and guy hanging out together will always get mistaken for being together.”

“Beats me. Maybe you should get rid of me to help with your game.” You grinned at Jungkook as a joke. He rolled his eyes at you, “As if it’ll be easy to get rid of you.”

“Oh so you’ve had thoughts about it?”

“Shut up.” Jungkook threw his crumpled receipt at you to make you stop. The two of you finished your lunch and headed to your next lecture together. On the way, you were talking about what you and Jimin had been talking about the other night when you were lucky enough to bump into him.

“Guess who’s behind.” Jungkook whispered after he had coincidentally turned around. “No way. You think he heard me gushing about him?”

Your best friend shook his head, placed his hand on your shoulder and whipped your body 180 degrees so that you could meet eye to eye with Jimin.

“H-Hey Jimin!”

“Y/N! Jungkook! Just the people I was looking for!” Jimin waved at you enthusiastically as he jogged up to the both you.

“You were?”

Jimin bidded his head with his charming closed mouth smile, “Nothing serious. Just a random question, are y’all skipping practice next Friday?”

Park Jimin. Another star dancer in the club, along with Jungkook and a few others. He’s also the one you have been talking about to Jungkook. You did see your fellow club members as family. Jimin was the exception though.

Jimin was a flirt.

A lot of people knew that. However it was not like the f*ckboy flirty ways, he was a natural at it. You were even sure that there were times he himself didn’t even recognize that he was flirting. You loved to talk to Jimin. You loved to see him dance as well.

“Skipping practice? No, why?”

“Because,” Jimin winked at you, “Next Friday is Valentine’s Day.” You tried not to let a big smile show as you remained ‘nonchalant’ about Valentine’s Day.

“I might be.” Jungkook wriggled his shoulders cutely and you nudged your best friend with a shocked look on your face. “I need an update!” Jungkook laughed, nodding head his, “Yes boss. I’ll update you later. For now, we have a lecture to attend.:

The three of you were in the same lecture for this module. However, Jimin attended this module with another group of his while you were with Jungkook. It was true that you two seemed inseparable. Of course it was appear this way since you guys organised your semester schedules together. You guys met during orientation camp and have become best friends ever since.

Halfway through the lecture, Jungkook had given up listening and started using his phone discreetly behind his laptop. You glanced to see that he was texting someone. “Who’s that?” You softly nudged his sides. “It’s the girl I asked out for Valentine’s.”

Your attention immediately shifted to finding out who was this mysterious girl, turning to him to ask for more information. “Show me a picture! What’s her name? How did you meet?”

Jungkook nudged you to keep quiet, finding a picture of her on social media. ‘Wow she looks good.” You thought to yourself, somehow feeling dejected without knowing the reason why.

It dawned on you that Jungkook won’t be there for dance practice next Friday and it made you less excited for practice. However, something bothered you even more. You felt more upset compared to the other times when he was just lazy to practice but you couldn’t put a finger on it. So you decided to brush it off.

__

“Jeon Jungkook! What is this?” You asked in shock as you looked at the contents of the tote bag. Taking out the box from inside, you opened it to find out that Jungkook had prepared you a lunch bento box and along with it, came your favourite drink.

“Do you like it?” He asked, you didn’t miss how shy and nervous he sounded.

You looked back up at me, showing the brightest smile you have as you pulled him in for a tight hug. “I love it! I love food! You’re the best I swear!” You felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled, making your heart flutter from the sensation. He patted your shoulders, signalling you to release him from your tight grasp.

“I didn’t get you anything though.” You pouted, feeling guilty that you didn’t prepare a surprise for your best friend. He shook his head, “Nah, it’s fine y/n. Don’t feel bad about it. It was an impromptu thing anyway.”

Jungkook started filling you in about the details on his date later that night - where he would bring out and what time. Once he was done sharing his part, you started talking about you will be hanging out with some of the club members after practice, one of them being Jimin.

You noticed his smile dropped for a split second before he went back to showing a supportive and bright smile. “Are you guys getting closer?” Shrugging your shoulders, “I guess so? But just as friends.”

“I see.”

—

While waiting for practice to start, you and Jimin were sitting next to each other, talking about recent events the past few days and just catching up in general. You realised that you never gotten the proper chance to just sit down with Jimin alone to get to know him better. It was mostly because you were always more nervous about trying not to make it obvious that you thought he’s cute.

However, the longer the conversation went, the more you realised. You were more than happy with how things are with you and Jimin. It already felt perfect in a way. You weren’t sure of the reason why but suddenly, it was as if you didn’t have that cute crush on him anymore.

“Jungkook told me about the girl he’s taking out tonight. Have you met her?” “No,” you answered curtly, which surprised Jimin and even yourself. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing.” Jimin chuckled, “Why are you laughing?” You looked at him in a questioning manner. Jimin just pinched your cheeks playfully. “It’s nothing y/n.”

You didn’t want to talk about Jungkook’s Valentine’s date, you weren’t sure why but you were sure that you wanted to change the topic.

Practice ended slightly earlier so you guys dashed out of the studio to head over to McDonald’s to get a midnight snack since you were all starving after dancing for hours.

Hoseok and Seokjin, also members of the dance club, were goofing around while you guys were walking to the fast food place. Taehyung was behind them, laughing freely and filming them. While you and Jimin were in front leading the way and talking with each other.

“Valentine’s Day doesn’t seem so boring when we have them behind us.” Jimin was referring to the two fooling around behind. You laughed as you glanced back, nodding your head in agreement.

“Too bad Jungkook isn’t here.” Jimin added.

“At least he’s on a cute date.” You said bitterly, looking down at your feet, not really paying attention to what you had just uttered.

“You know, I find it hard to believe no one asked you out for VDAY.” Jimin commented.

You looked back up to face Jimin as you walked, “I mean, everyone in the crew are all like family. We don’t see each other that way? And I basically only hang out with y’all.”

“Mmm. I guess that could be another reason.” Jimin jutted out his lower lip as you stared straight ahead, as if deep in thought.

You furrowed your brows, “Another reason? What reason did you have in mind?”

Jimin just winked at you and you nudged him to get it out of him.

“Spill.”

“You know, before I spill, I might as well spill that I knew you had a small crush on me.” He winked at you and you were completely caught off guard. He knew all this time?! You felt like a fool next to him all of a sudden.

Out of embarrassment you smacked his arm. “Didn’t need to do me dirty like that.”

Jimin laughed before continuing, “I had a crush on you too, for the record.”

You scoffed, not believing his words. “Really now.” For all you know, he could be saying that out of pity to help you feel less embarrassed.

“Yea. But I thought you and JK had a thing so I did my best to get rid of those thoughts. I only knew about you liking me recently because Jungkook dropped some not so subtle hints.”

“He WHAT?!”

Jimin winced sheepishly, probably thinking he screwed up and you were going to murder Jungkook.

“Don’t kill him. It’s because I was asking about your V-Day plans.” Jimin shook his head, “Anyway, back to the main point. That’s the reason I was referring to.”

“The main reason is that people think Jungkook and I are a thing?”

“Not gonna lie, I ship you guys at the same time so I was willing to let my crush go.” He winked at you and you laughed. “Well, you should’ve made your move since we aren’t together. He’s on a date now and he’s just my best friend.”

“You sure about that?” He asked as he opened the door to McDonalds, letting the group in and that put a pause on your conversation

After that day, Jungkook didn’t really update you about his date as he was talking to you as if nothing happened. You found it weird because he was usually very eager to share what happened.

“Okay. Why aren’t you updating me about your date?”

“There’s nothing to say.” He grumbled, seemingly not in the mood to talk.

“What do you mean there’s nothing? There has to be updates.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jungkook was avoiding your eye contact, looking at his drink, stirring the melting ice with his straw.

You tried to think of a reason why Jungkook was in such a sour mood. Then it clicked in your head, “Oh. It went badly didn’t it? It’s okay Jung—“

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped his head up to look at you straight in the eye.

“Damn. Okay.” You raised your hands, brushing his harsh reply off though it hurt you a bit. Jungkook felt guilty for lashing out at you and opened his mouth to apologise but was distracted when he saw Jimin approach your table, waving at the both you.

“Lover boy is here. I gotta go.” Jungkook got up with his bag.

“Go where? Our next lecture is only in an hour—“

“I’m going to the library.” He rushed off after saying hello to Jimin.

The library? Since when does he go to the library before lectures?

After waving goodbye to Jungkook, Jimin turned back at you, standing next to your table. “He looks pissed. What did you do?”

You shrugged your shoulders, leaning back against your seat, staring at your empty plate and cup.  “I have no clue. He was being pissy about his date.”

“Oh. He didn’t tell you what happened?”

“No. What do you know?”

“He cancelled his date.” Jimin said with a knowing smirk, wriggling his shoulder suggestively.

“And how do you know that?”

“He told Taehyung when we were going out for Macs that night. He wanted to join us for post-practice meal.”

“So why didn’t he?”

Jimin sighed, reaching into his pockets to take out his phone. He showed you his chat with Taehyung.

“Tae filmed the group walking to Macs and I guess he saw this.” Jimin explained as you read the chat. You clicked on the video that Taehyung sent. “Wait.” Jimin took his phone and  skipped to the part where you and Jimin were walking together and seemingly having a good time together.

Confused, you looked back up at Jimin. “What about it?”

Jimin jokingly poked your forehead. “Must I spell everything out for you? He likes you. Dumb ass.”

You laughed, “If he did. He would’ve asked me out for Valentine’s.”

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, taking your bag from the seat. “He probably would’ve asked you if you didn’t tell him about your crush on me.”

“What are you doing with my bag—“

Jimin took your arm and pulled you up. “Where did he go?”

“The library?”

“Yea right, that boy ain’t there to study. Go talk to him.” He started pulling you in the direction of the library.

Throughout the walk to the library, you kept saying you didn’t want to talk about it. You needed to think it through and come up with a plan but Jimin kept pulling you all the way.

At the entrance, you saw Jungkook walk out, he looked at you and Jimin together. You noticed the blank look on his face, as if he was trying to hide his emotions.

Jimin smiled at Jungkook and pushed you towards him.

“See y’all at the lecture!” Jimin winked at you and briskly walked off.

“Screw you jimin.” You cursed under your breath.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked as he walked up to you and you shook your head. “N-Nothing. Just wanted to check on you since I seemed to have pissed you off earlier.”

Jungkook sighed and shook his head. “No you didn’t. Sorry I snapped at you. Can we forget about that?” You agreed and the two of you made your way to the lecture hall.

“About my date. I cancelled it.” Jungkook spoke after the short silence.

So it was true.

“Why?”

“It didn’t feel right.” He answered but you didn’t pry.

—

After lecture, Jungkook suggested to go for ice cream and you agreed. He asked about updates on you and Jimin. You told him you don’t see him that way anymore.

“Really? Just the other day—“

“Yea I know what I said but I realised it was just eye candy or something.”

Suddenly you remembered that Jungkook snitched on you. “He told me that he knows I liked him. I wonder why.” You looked at him and he gave you an apologetic look.

“I-I’m sorry.”

You laughed, brushing it aside, “It’s okay. But we talked about it and we’re cool.”

There was silence following that as you guys ate your own ice cream. It was creating nervousness in you and you couldn’t sit in silence any longer.

“Wish you joined us that night.”

Jungkook smiled, “Me too.”

“Why didn’t you? Since you cancelled the date.”

He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding your eye contact once again, taking a lick of his ice cream. “It was too late to go out.”

“That’s nonsense. You have no curfew.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Okay yea you’re right.”

“Jimin told me you asked Taehyung where we were but you didn’t meet us.”

“I lost the mood to meet you guys.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, “You lost the mood for a midnight snack? Okay, the date, I understand since you’ve done that before. But McDonald’s? With everyone?”

Jungkook pressed his lips into a thin smile, you could tell he was thinking of his reply. You waited, eating your ice cream that was slowly melting in the cup.

“I didn’t want to go there on Valentine’s just to see you and Jimin together.”

You stopped mid-scoop and looked up at him who was looking down at his ice cream cone. “W-What?” You felt your body froze, trying to comprehend what he was trying to say.

With a frustrated sigh, he looked into your eyes and confessed. “I always cancelled on dates because I didn’t want to go on dates with other girls. Hanging out with you is more than enough. I thought at first maybe its because I was just stuck with you. But after hanging out with other girls before, it just didn’t feel as happy and chill when we hang out.”

You didn’t break eye contact at all and you felt the sincerity of every single word he had uttered. Yet, you didn’t know how to reply. You felt your heartbeat even more heavily, you felt this adrenaline rising in your and your cheeks heating up.

“I like you y/n.”

You leaned back, staring at your cup of ice cream. “Huh.” You chuckled, completely at a lost.

“Why are you laughing” He asked, looking a bit nervous.

You looked up at him, making eye contact and smiled. “If you do, why aren’t you asking me out on a date then?”

His nervous look morphed into a big smile, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to.”

[cherry3point14]

Cookies & Milk

Pairing: Dean x British!Reader Warnings: Established D/s, mind you don’t fall down the crack Word Count: 2,172. Summary: Dean buys you some cookies. You call them biscuits. Arguments ensue, lines are drawn and restraints are required. A/N: Have any of y’all met @winchesters-meaty-feast? She’s my pal and partner in crime. We have extensive conversations about many a subject but one day the most important topic arose. Biscuits. I’m a dunker, she is not. It almost tore us apart but luckily we’re stronger than that. Anyway, I drabbled this Dom/sub biscuit thing in our chat and the following CRACK is what snowballed from that. (This is meant to be dumb ok. Don’t come for me over this weirdness.) 

Ao3 if you prefer.

You should close your laptop.

In the late afternoon—underground where the time of day doesn’t matter—even then the light it’s emitting is too blue. Sure, you could turn down the brightness but it’s too little too late. Your eyes are already starting to ache from the strain.

You're not even doing anything important. You started scrolling a few hours ago; a news story that might have been something, but turned out to be nothing. Less than nothing, it was mundane. Dull as dishwater, as your mum might say. You would have closed your laptop then if it hadn’t been for that link at the bottom of the page. To another article, this time about an unexpected cold snap. This leads you to look up weather trends in Kansas, which becomes reading the articles on weather.com. Who even knew weather.com had articles? Still, they do and they’re very informative. The problem is that their data all points to it being cold as balls soon (your term, not theirs). So, now you’re shopping, with a pair of snow boots and two winter coats in your basket. And you’re debating a new scarf to put you over the free shipping threshold.

It is really time to shut your laptop before you go ahead and checkout. Dean hates having to pick up your parcels in town. Always complains that you have a problem. Pretty hypocritical considering the number of breweries he keeps in business. Besides he doesn’t even have a reason to complain, Marta loves seeing him, she lights up like a Christmas tree for him. You walk into the post office and you get a ton of side-eye, plus a ten-minute wait, but Dean? Well, he’s always at the front of her line.

You’re so engrossed in shopping that you don’t immediately look up at the sound of the bunker door. It’ll be Dean, you know that much. He’ll have a couple of brown bags from his supply run and you don't want to insult him by insinuating that he needs help.

It’s for the greater good anyway, the longer you sit here the more chance there is of you buying him snow boots too. Maybe he'll let you buy him a hat too.

Once he’s finished stomping his way down the stairs he sets the paper bags down next to you. It just so happens that's the exact moment you finally look up at him. A grateful smile on your face and over the top fluttering eyelashes—to remind him how loveable you are.

He shakes his head at how obvious you are. “I didn’t buy them for just you.” His unnecessary emphasis is all the permission you need.

“Is that smoke?” You sniff the air, one arm sliding inside the nearest bag, “must be the fire in your pants.”

He tries. Bless his heart. He tries to hold out. You can see him chewing the inside of his mouth as your arm moves about inside the bag to liberally finger his goods. The haul from the supermarket anyway. But he cannot resist your lame jokes and it ends the same as always. He cracks. A twitch of his lip, shaking his head and then an eye roll even Sam would be proud of.

“Other bag, Sherlock.”

“Ah-ha!” You grin when you switch to the other bag. Instead of fresh fruits and vegetables, you’re treated to food of the more processed variety. Plastic bags filled with crisps, a pie carton and, oh he really does love you, biscuits.

You slink back down to your screen, tearing the package open with your teeth as you do. Revitalised by the imminent influx of sugar. Dean sighs but doesn’t say another word. He picks up the rest of the groceries and carries them away. Presumably to the kitchen by the distant sounds of him putting everything away.

It’s another five minutes when he returns with a glass of milk that he puts down next to you. With a determined thump of glass on wood, as if the sound is an entire explanation.

“Thanks, but you know I don’t…”

“Take the damn milk.”

Normally you’d be irritated for being cut off mid-sentence, but it’s his exasperated tone that catches your attention. You even deign to look at him again, ignoring the popup that’s offering an extra 15% off if you enter your email. “You ok?”

He scratches at the scruff on his jaw while he tries to internally talk himself down from the ledge. “Nothing, nothing. Drink the milk, please.”

You look from him to the glass and frown at the white liquid. There’s nothing wrong with it per se. It looks like a perfectly good glass of milk, the kind you might see on a ‘got milk’ ad from the nineties. It’s not that you hate milk, you just prefer your biscuits to have a little bite. Dean should know that by now but if he’s forgotten then you are more than happy to remind him. “You eat your biscuits how you want, let me eat mine how I want.”

In your attempt to be rational you have failed to notice the desperation in his, 'please'. And now you’ve managed to tick him off.

“Cookies,” he grinds out.

“What?”

“They’re cookies. Dammit, you’ve lived here long enough to call a cookie a cookie.”

The outburst is not Dean’s fault. He’s not exactly hoarding MAGA caps and asking you to go back to England. No, this outrage is the product of a very specific joke that you might have taken too far.

Ordinarily, you switched back and forth between American and British all the time. As easy as breathing. You’d lived in the good ol’ US of A for long enough that your brain simply picked out the first word it could reach. A lot of the time it ended up being American without much intention, people understood better. 

And then a few weeks back you’d been on the way to a hunt, sprawled in the back seat. Despite the fact that you were still strategizing with Sam you were comfortable. You could have fallen asleep right there if Sam hadn't kept talking. The word had slipped out on a whim. You called Baby’s trunk a boot.

Dean—being an absolute drama queen—had slammed on the brakes and eloquently asked what the fuck you called his Baby. Apparently, it was the first time you’d said that particular British word.

If you hadn’t found his reaction utterly hilarious that would have been the end of it. Except you did find it funny. The way his face soured, that little crease in the middle of his brow, he was so offended by four little letters. It was beautiful.

Now it’s been a few weeks of very purposeful language choices. Asking to borrow his mobile to make a call, or to wear his hoodie. And you’ll admit the ‘pip pip cheerio’ as he left the bunker earlier had been excessive. That isn’t even a real thing people say.

You’ve been torturing the poor guy with British slang. And because this isn’t the first time you’ve taken a joke too far, you’d usually hold your hands up and apologise. You’re good at apologising. He likes when you have to apologise because you always make it worth his while.

The problem is, biscuit had been an honest-to-god slip of the tongue. It had been the most natural word for your brain to conjure and so his anger seems a tad unjustified. Utterly out of proportion.

“It’s a biscuit.” You repeat as you take a bite, noticing the way his left eye seems to twitch at the crunch.

“It’s a cookie. It says right there on the packet. It’s a fucking sandwich cookie.” He points at the ripped plastic on the table for emphasis.

You sigh with the kind of effort that forces all the air from your lungs. “This country can’t spell half the time, why should I trust the packet?”

“Because you’re eating from it.”

He’s got you on a technicality. And he knows it. He knows it by the telling pause before you speak and the flash of panic in your eyes.

“So?”

It’s not an argument that’s going to win world-class debates but you couldn’t go ahead and let him have the last word.

Dean's problem now is he thinks he’s got you on the ropes, so he goes and gets cocky. He puffs out his chest a little and bites back a smirk.

“So? So… cookies and milk is as American as apple pie-”

“Invented by the Dutch.”

“-whatever. It’s a thing. Which means you gotta sit down, shut up and drink your fucking milk.”

You always love it when he does that. Argues his way to a conclusion whether he’s right or not. It’s kind of ridiculously hot.

Or at least that’s how you justify putting your half-eaten biscuit down. Slowly rising from your chair and crawling onto his lap. You lean in, slow enough to tease him, letting your breath settle over his skin as you whisper in his ear. “I know a way we could settle this.”

“What’re you doing?” He manages between teeth that are grinding against each other. The muscles in his arms are tense where he’s pulling at the rope that holds him.

Any other night and you might calm him down at this point. Remind your good boy that he shouldn’t hurt himself. Or depending on the game you’d remind him who he belongs to, who he’s foolishly directing his anger towards. But there’s no soothing touches or harsh reminders bestowed upon Dean tonight. This game is different. This is a battle for dominance, unlike one you’ve played before.

For the first time, he wants to win as much as you do.

There’s no mutual satisfaction in the room because you’re both out for blood. Where blood equals being right about snack goods. And unfortunately for Dean, he didn’t figure it out before he let you tighten the ropes around his wrists.

“I thought that was obvious, baby. I wanted something sweet.”

His eyes flick between the glass of milk he’d seen you carry in and the cookies plated up beside it. Well, you’d call them biscuits but that’s not what this argument is about.

“Don’t you dare.” There’s a threat in his voice.

For a moment it surprises you and you’re quick to counter him, “I’ll do what I like.” Your tone is reminder enough for him to remember his place.

He retreats a little, gives an inch so that you can take a mile. A breath rattles through his chest doing little to calm his tightly wound body. At the very least, he switches anger for desperation. Dean knows you love it when he pleads, “please Princess. Please, I’m begging you. Dunk it.”

Your entire body glows a little when he calls you by your name. The change in his attitude only urges you onwards though, with a smirk turning up the corners of your mouth.

Your hand finds a treat, fingers picking it up with deliberate, delicate movements. His eyes are wide as he watches you hover the biscuit over the glass as if maybe you’ll appease him. The whimper he lets out when you bypass the drink is almost fulfilling enough that you’re no longer hungry. Almost.

The room takes on an eerie silence as you part your lips and take a bite. A loud, crunchy bite. Crumbs fall onto the table beneath you—probably in slow motion— and chewing only seems to increase the volume.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters as you swallow, “you’re crazy.”

You hadn’t planned on it but you walk across the room then, half a biscuit in your hand and a satisfied smile on your face. He’s slumped in his chair a little. He’s defeated since he knows he won’t defeat the knots keeping him in place.

“Come on, try it for me.”

“Go to hell.”

It's your turn to roll your eyes, “don’t be so dramatic, you’ve been to hell. This can’t be that bad.”

As you reason with him, you slide into his lap again, which will be torture enough because he can’t touch you. Except you also hold the biscuit to his lips.

“Please. For me. Be my good boy.” You coo as if you're not toying with him.

His thighs twitch beneath you at the use of his nickname and, because he’s always your good boy, he opens his mouth.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part iv

And here’s part iv! I’d love it if y’all would reblog, this is a work I’m really proud of and the more people it’s shared with the better! My inbox is always open, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, even if it’s just “AAAAAH.” Enjoy!

part i part ii part iii

part iv

December 12

Cass grimaced, looking over at the tab on her laptop that had the Islanders game open. They were down 3-1 late in the third, and it didn’t look like they were going to be able to pull it off. It was the last game of a ten day roadie, and they had lost all but one against the Red Wings right at the beginning. And the Wings were 10-21, so it wasn’t even a confidence booster. To make matters worse, Mat was on a points drought; he hadn’t gotten an assist, let alone scored, since the first game of the trip, a 4-1 loss to the Blue Jackets. They also were playing a few players down, an MCL sprain and the ever-vague “lower body injury” kept the team from being at full strength. 

As the game came to a close, she didn’t even know if Mat wanted to talk to her. His relentless dedication was one of her favorite things about him, but it also led him to take things way too personally and be way too hard on himself even when  — especially when  — the situation didn’t call for it. He was probably beating himself up as the boys headed back into the locker room, being short with his teammates and trainers and whatever poor sports reporter had been sent to ask “how they planned on snapping this unfortunate streak” in the post-game interviews. He’d never be deliberately mean or unkind to anyone, but just like anyone, her boyfriend got stressed and overwhelmed and didn’t always know how to deal with it. I saw the game, she texted him, I’m proud of you. Call me if you want. 

Dec. 15 (wed)

Mat had barely spoken to her since the return from the roadie, and it was starting to get on her nerves. Texts were responded with single words, if they were answered at all. They were supposed to have visited the Met yesterday , but that hadn’t happened either. He had cancelled, saying that “some team thing came up” and he wouldn’t be able to make it. Barely apologized. And what pissed Cass of more than almost anything was that she wanted to help, she wanted so badly for him to just talk to her, she wouldn’t judge him or make him feel like he was a shitty player or a shitty person, but she couldn’t do that if he wasn’t even picking up her damn calls. Who do you talk to when there’s almost nobody in the world who understands the position you’re in? 

Maybe that was just it. She’d go to the people who did understand. Paige had added her to the WAGs Whatsapp group the week prior, and from everything she had gathered so far, it was exactly the sort of place to go for advice. Cass pulled up the chat, torn between not wanting to seem like she was oversharing but not really sure what else she could do. Hey, guys, she started. Mat’s been taking the losing streak pretty personally (as I’m sure a lot of your guys are) and seems to be pulling away. Any advice? I don’t want to push him but I know it’ll get worse if he just keeps it all bottled inside. Clicking send, Cass sighed, leaning back in her desk chair and trying desperately to study for her Environmental Law final. 

At some point after midnight, she closed her books and laptop with frustration. The test wasn’t until next week, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to study as distracted as she was. She grabbed her phone, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and check the group chat. No fewer than six of the women had written back, some of whom she hadn’t even met, with long, sympathetic paragraphs overflowing with advice. She read them all, touched by the time, effort, and care that everyone has put into making her feel just a little less anxious. But the overwhelming message was clear. Find balance, but don’t let him blow you off. Be a support system, but you’re not his therapist. And repeated again and again, Talk to him. 

She tapped out a message before she turned her bedside lamp off, hoping that with morning would finally come a proper response from Mat. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow morning? You know as well as I do that we need to talk. I’ll be at Donahue’s at 8. 

Read: 12:23 AM

Dec. 16 (thurs)

Her foot tapped nervously, hands clasped tightly around the cup in front of her and beanie pulled over her head, curls poking out from under. He had read the text, but Cass had no clue if Mat was actually going to show up or not. He hadn’t responded. It was ten past eight, and Cass was just about ready to give up and head to school early. She had just put her laptop back in her bag when she caught Mat out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a small smile, equal parts nervous and almost  — bothered? “Hey,” he said softly, unzipping his puffer coat and sliding into the chair opposite her. “You said you wanted to talk?”

Suddenly, the whole elaborate speech Cass had prepared, about letting her in and supporting him and communication, left her mind. “Yeah.”

“So, talk,” Mat said, with a slight edge to his voice. 

She looked down at her cup. “I get that you’re disappointed about the losing streak. I get it and I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped —”

“I don’t think you do get it, Cassidy —”

She cut him off. “Let me finish, Mathew. I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped, and I do get how shitty it is when you know you’re putting in the time and effort and practice and it doesn’t seem like anything’s working, but you’ve barely talked to be about any of it.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to,” Mat mumbled. 

Cass leaned back in her chair. “And I get that. I get if you don’t want to talk to me. But you’re not talking to anyone. You’re not talking to Tito, I asked him and he said you’ve been just as closed-off with the team. You’re not talking to any of the other guys. And I’d bet you’re not talking to your parents or your sister either.”

No one gets it!” Mat said in frustration, a little louder than was necessary. “I go through so much shit and have so much pressure on me and…” He trailed off for a minute. “I don’t want to disappoint the team, I don’t want to disappoint the fans. I don’t want to disappoint my family. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Everyone had their ups and downs,” Cass started.

“And I get that,” Mat said, holding his head in his hands and looking down at her coffee cup. The same white-and-blue one he had gotten her two months earlier. “But it’s hard. It’s hard when I’m feeling like the fans aren’t getting what they deserve when they come to games, and like I’m not worth what they’re paying me right now. I know you want to, but you don’t get it.”

Cass looked away, turning her eyes to the street. The sidewalk was dusted in white, turning to slush every time someone walked past. It was the first snow of the year. “Then help me to.”

He breathed out, finally relaxing a little. “It’s not that easy.”

“I want to help you,” Cass said, leaning over the table and clasping his hands in hers. “But you can’t keep freezing me out like this, chou. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

Mat closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t want this to become your thing too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I know right now kind of sucks for me but that’s just how it is sometimes, you know? It’s just how it is and I have to get over it. I have to get over myself.”

“Mat, your well-being and mental health isn’t something you can just ‘get over.’ Or even something you should. I’m not a professional, and if you need one that’s something we can find,” Mat wrinkled his face, and Cass was pointedly reminded how often men’s mental health was ignored, “but I’m here for you to talk to. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

He ran his thumb over her hand. “But you didn’t sign up for this.”

Cas shook her head. “Mathew Barzal. This is exactly what I signed up for. I’m pretty smart,” he cracked a smile, “and I knew what I was getting myself into. Dating someone with such an unconventional job and schedule can be stressful, and frustrating, and confusing for everyone involved. But I chose it, Mat. I chose you.”

Dec. 21 (mon)

For once, Cass wasn’t headed straight home after work, or headed to a game, or — God forbid — back to the library to study. Her last final had been that morning, and she was free for three blessed weeks until the New Year. Which meant that she didn’t have to worry about turning in another essay or memorizing another case, which meant that she was more than free to go to the team Christmas party with Mat later that night. He had somehow been coerced into hosting, and Cass had promised to get to his apartment early to help set up. He was mostly done by the time she got there, so “setting up” turned out to mean setting up the bar and putting out snacks, Cass mixing up an enormous pitcher of her favorite sangria, a signature standby from her sorority’s Wine Wednesdays. 

Mat had even put up a proper Christmas tree, and Cass smiled at the piney scent as she headed down the hallway, bag in hand. “Cool if I change in your room?” She shouted down the hall at Mat, who was currently engrossed in pouring a bowl full of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Yeah, go for it,” he called back. Cass didn’t have a lot of excuses to dress up, but liked taking advantage when the occasion called for it. Her dress was short, red satin with a slit on one side and silver embellishment on the other. She used his bathroom to touch up her makeup, swiping her burgundy lipstick on and double-checking her brows. Cass shoved her work clothes back into her backpack, tossing it onto the plush armchair in the corner of his room. 

She walked down the hallway, which was pretty much bare save for a few pictures of his friends from home and one with his family on the day he was drafted. She was kind of surprised that Mat owned a single picture frame. Cass sat on the couch in his living room, looking at the Christmas tree. There were one or two Islanders ornaments, a paper Santa that she assumed had been a kindergarten art project, a photo of his family around the fireplace that looked like it had been taken a year or two earlier. Mat wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha looking at, babe?” 

She smiled. “Your ornaments. They’re really pretty.”

“Not  as pretty as you.”

The door rang, Mat kissing her quickly before walking across the room to open it. A group of the younger players piled in, mostly rookies and call-ups from Bridgeport. One of them had brought along a keg of beer, and Cass had to fight back a laugh while showing him to the kitchen and setting it on the counter. He was just out of college, she’d stake her life on it. By the time she’d secured the keg and started getting people set up with drinks, the living room had started to fill up. “What can I get you?” She asked Paige, who had left Tito with the boys by the tree and made her way over to Cass. 

“What are my chances of getting a Moscow mule?” Paige asked. “I don’t want to be a difficult guest, but,”

“Very good,” Cass said, turning around and grabbing the vodka and ginger ale. “We don’t have the proper mugs though, so don’t be complaining.” One shot of vodka. Half a can of ginger ale. Squeeze a lime. She had bartended for a little over a year when she first moved to New York, and it was still one of her favorite things to do for friends. Mixing herself a whiskey sour, Cass wandered back over to Mat and Tito. 

---

It was well past eleven and the party was nowhere near stopping. While everyone was conscious of the noise level — for the most part, she had seen a few of the guys being reminded to use their inside voices — the conversations were still going and the drinks were still flowing. Cass had passed the tipsy point somewhere around 10:30, though she was nowhere near as hammered as some of the team. Or their dates, for that matter. She was cuddled up against Mat on the couch, heels long having since been abandoned and nursing what she was pretty sure was a vodka sprite with way too much vodka and way too little sprite. Whatever, Cass thought ruefully as she tipped the last of it back. It gets the job done. 

Mat was a touchy drunk, Cass had learned, and one hand seemed to have taken up permanent residence at her waist while he sipped a beer with the other. “What do you think Christmas will be like for you?” Cass asked softly, tilting up her head to look at him. “Since you won’t be with your family.” Mat knew it was a possibility, but he was still pretty upset when he looked at the schedule and realized that his family wasn’t going to be able to fly out to spend the holidays with him, and he didn’t have enough time to go back out to Vancouver. 

Her parents had extended the invitation for Mat to spend Christmas with them when she had been back up for Thanksgiving; he couldn’t make Christmas Day, but was able to carve out two days to visit. He smiled at her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “You’re cute when you’re worried, y’know that?” Cass scrunched up her nose. “It’s not like I’m going to be alone. I’m doing Christmas with Beau, since Paige’ll be out of town too, and some of the guys usually plan a nice dinner thing for anyone who’s not with family.”

“That sounds nice,” Cass noted, still feeling a pang of guilt. 

“Hey,” Mat said, noticing her distraction. He sat up, turning her face to look towards him. “I’ll be fine. I’m a grown-ass man.” 

Cass cocked an eyebrow. “Sure about that?”

Mat giggled. “Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, it would be nice to have my family, but I kind of do, y’know?” He said, nodding around to the guys. Cass could have sworn that in that moment, her heart melted. “And I want you to spend time with yours. I’d be kind of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t want you to.” Mat leaned in, and his lips brushed against hers so that they were almost touching but not quite, hesitantly. Cass pressed against him, her fingers finding purchase in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. She loved that he was letting his hair grow out. He tasted like whiskey and tequila and some cheap beer that she was pretty sure was Natty Light, but she couldn’t have cared less, just like she ignored the not-so-subtle wolf-whistles from the teammates. 

Everyone started clearing out around midnight, a few staying to help stuff cans and bottles into trash bags that were left unceremoniously in the kitchen to be dealt with the next morning. Cass yawned, rubbing her eyes. She had sobered up some, but was still well past the legal limit. “Whatcha doing?” Mat asked, seeing her about to order an Uber.

“Calling a ride?” Cass questioned.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Mat asked haltingly. “If you want.” Cass had obviously been over to his place before, multiple times, but hadn’t stayed the night yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did, but it was something that was a big step for her. That meant a lot to her. But it was late, and she was sleepy, and Mat did make a really good pillow. “Okay,” she conceded. 

Mat smiled, taking her hand and leading her back to his bedroom. He rummaged through his dresser, grabbing an old Thunderbirds t-shirt and athletic shorts and handing them to her as she walked into his ensuite. “I don’t have stuff to get your makeup off, but there is soap?” He offered. 

Cass laughed. “I brought some wipes, but thank you. That’s really sweet.” She changed and took her makeup off, finding a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers and brushing her teeth. She popped out after a few minutes. Mat was already changed, dressed in pyjama pants and a comfy-looking heathered grey top. “The red toothbrush is mine now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, cracking a smile. A few minutes later, she had claimed the left side of the bed and he had come back from the bathroom. They were lazily kissing, Mat’s hand just barely brushing the skin on her waist from where the shirt had ridden up. Cass was still tipsy and she knew Mat wouldn’t try anything, not like this, but God, it was nice just to feel close to him. After a few minutes he pulled back, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the loose messy bun she had thrown together. “What’s running through your head, babe?” He murmured. 

Cass looked down, biting her lip. She was usually good with emotions, good with communication, but something about Mat made her heart skip a beat and brain go into overdrive all at once, and somehow she was convinced that it was the best feeling in the world. “I’m just really happy right now,” she breathed. “It’s Christmas, with our friends, and you...It’s everything I could want.” 

Mat gave the softest smile. “You, with me, right now? That’s all I could want, Cass.”

Dec 22. (wed)

Cass zipped her suitcase shut, double-checking that she had everything she’d need for her two weeks in Connecticut. It wasn’t a big deal if she forgot something, there was probably some stuff left in her old dresser, and her little sister Eliana was about the same size. Mat had just texted that he was almost there. Cass grabbed her backpack and suitcase, stopping for a moment to pop out the final few chocolates on the Advent calendar her mom had sent down. She closed her bedroom door, wishing a harried goodbye to Ryanne and Stella, and ambled down the stairs as fast as her bags would allow her. She didn’t want Mat to have to double-park and risk getting a ticket. 

True to his word, Mat was just pulling up when she came out of the building, waving one hand and double-checking the street was clear before flipping his hazards on and hopping out to help her put her bags in the trunk. Kissing him on the cheek in thanks, Cass slid into the passenger’s side, giving Mat a very pointed look when she saw that the first song on his playlist was Justin Bieber. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbled, blushing. 

“Who said I’m making fun of you?” Cass said lightly, trying and failing to hide her smile. 

They had decided that Mat would make the drive, since he was only staying two nights they had figured it would make more sense. The directions had been plugged into the Bluetooth system, and they had just made it out of the city when Mat looked over at the passenger’s seat, furrowing his brow when he saw Cass’s expression. Something was bothering her. “What’s up, babe?”

She bit her lip. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, we both decided we weren’t going to do this anymore. You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I think you want to talk.”

Cass looked down at her lap. “I got a letter from the company that’s handling my student loans.”

“I thought you didn’t have any debt?” Mat asked quizzically.

She let out a single, humorless laugh. “That was for undergrad, and that was only because I was really, really lucky. I got some money from the school and I worked some, but that only covered about half of my costs? A little less?” 

“Which leaves you with how much?”

“A hundred and ten thousand dollars, give or take. They were sending me the payment schedule, I have to start paying it back late next year.” 

Mat breathed out. He knew that Cass didn’t come from money, but being from Canada and not having gone to college himself, he wasn’t really aware of just how debilitating student debt could get. “Do your parents know?” He asked gently.

Cass picked at a loose thread on her scarf. “Yeah. They helped as much as they could, but there’s three of us and they’re not made of money. “I, uh,” she paused briefly, “I told you I went to private school, yeah?” Mat nodded. “Catholic school doesn’t come cheap, so I was actually on work-study at my high school, which helped a lot. But I hated it.”

“Your school?” He questioned. 

She shook her head. “No, I loved my school. It was great. I just hated feeling like a charity case. My school’s in a pretty well-off neighborhood, so most of the families there had money, and some were like proper ‘old money’ New Englanders. I had some great friends and nobody ever really outwardly was an ass about it if they knew, but still…” She trailed off.

“You felt like you never quite fit in.” Mat finished.

She nodded. “It was hard and it sucked sometimes, but that’s just how it is, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. 

Two hours later, Mat pulled into Manchester, following Cass’s directions down the winding roads and corners of her hometown. “Do you think they’ll like me?” He asked nervously, eyes flitting between Cass and the road in front of him. 

Her brow furrowed. “Who? My family?” Mat nodded. “My family’s going to love you. You’re kind and you treat me with respect. That’s all they’ve ever wanted for me. And my brother already worships the ground you walk on, practically,” she added with a smile. 

“He’s a junior, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” she responded. Cass’s younger brother Noah was a junior in high school, and one of the best players on his club hockey team. Hockey didn’t run cheap and he had been lifeguarding the past few summers to pay for it, but it was all starting to pay off and he was having some interest shown by college scouts. 

Mat pulled up beside the curb in front of her house, killing the engine and shoving the keys back into his pocket. Cass popped the trunk and took her backpack, while Mat got his duffel and her suitcase. She reached for his hand as they walked up the driveway, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she rang the doorbell. 

“Cass!” Eliana squealed, hugging as much of her sister as she could manage around the bags. “Put your bags by the door, Dad’s grilling out back and I think Mom’s making your bed.” Mat had had an afternoon game and the two had left not long after, so it was dinnertime and Cass was ravenous. “Grilling in December?” She questioned. 

Eliana shrugged, closing the door behind them. “You know Patrick, you go be the one to tell the man he can’t make burgers in the winter.” She turned to Mat, also greeting him with a hug. “You must be Mat, Cass talks about you a lot.” 

Cass swatted her. “El!”

Mat chuckled. “Yeah. Mat Barzal, nice to meet you. Good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Eliana said, leading them through to the back porch, where her dad was grilling on the patio while Noah was doing sprints up and down the lawn. He almost fell when he spotted Cass and Mat, causing Mat to have to hide a laugh behind his hand. Her dad turned around, setting the spatula down when he saw them. Mat swallowed, sticking out his hand for a shake. “Mat Barzal, sir.”

“Call me Patrick. Good to meet you Mat, go get settled and we should have dinner ready in a few, okay?” Mat nodded. “Noah, pick your jaw up off the floor and go help them with their things, okay?” Noah ducked his head, brushing the dirt off his shorts before jogging over to where Mat and his sisters were on the porch. 

“Do I hear my Cassidy?” Cass could hear her mom inside, walking down the hallway with Noah and Mat before she ran into her by her old bedroom. “It’s me, Mom!” Cass said excitedly, hugging her mom. Mat initially went for another handshake, but she shooed it away, embracing him. “We’re huggers in this family,” she said by way of explanation, pulling away after a moment. “Ysabel Cabrera, so nice to finally meet you, Mat.” 

Mat smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you too.”

Ysabel pointed down the hall. “Noah’s got bunk beds, so you’ll be with him in there, it’s the last door on the left. Cass, I trust you still can find your room.”

“Yes, mamá,” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “See you in a few, chou.” He kissed her on the cheek, under the watchful eye of her mom, and followed Noah down the hall. 

---

Two hour later, Mat and Cass were cuddled together on the living room couch, his arm slung around her as they half-watched reruns of Parks & Rec. “D’you just want to do presents now?” He asked, looking down at her. “Because I know we’ve got plans tomorrow, and I don’t see how it really matters if we’re not going to be together Christmas Day.”

Cass looked up. “Uh, sure, if you want?” 

“Meet you back in a minute,” Mat said, hopping off of the couch and disappearing down the hall. Cass rolled her eyes, walking into her room, grabbing the envelope, and returning to the living room. Mat got up when she entered, proudly handing her a surprisingly well-wrapped present. 

“You look very pleased with your work,” Cass noted, laughing. 

“I watched a Youtube tutorial,” Mat admitted, “but did you know that there’s so much that goes into folding neat corners? It’s practically an art!”

“I’ll take you word for it,” Cass said, handing him his envelope. “Open yours first.”

Mat sat back down, running his thumb through the flap and pulling out a coupon. He looked at it quizzically for a minute. “Beer delivery?”

“Craft beer delivery,” Cass corrected pointedly. “Because I don’t want you to have to resort to Natty Light ever again. I saw your fridge, it’s actually the worst. You need taste, babe.” Mat snorted. “And they deliver to Canada, so you don’t have to worry about missing out on the offseason.” 

“I love it, pretty girl,” Mat said, kissing her. “Now open yours.” Cass carefully popped the corners open, unfolding the wrapping paper. My Beloved World - Sonia Sotomayor. “You said once that you really admire her, and I didn’t see it on your bookshelf, so I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, I love it. I love that you remembered even more,” Cass added. 

But Mat wasn’t done. “Open it,” he said expectantly.

Confused though she was, Cass opened the cover of the book. “It’s...signed? She said softly, reverently tracing her fingers over the inscription. 

“Yeah.” Mat went on, explaining, “I found it in this little bookstore in Brooklyn, and knew I had to get it for you. Knew what it would mean to you.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you’d do something like that for me.” 

Their foreheads touched. “Why wouldn’t I?” Mat whispered. “It’s for you.” 

And in that moment, there was nothing anyone could do to take away how happy that made her feel. How happy he made her feel. 

[atc74]

I’d Rather Be Blind

Square(s) Filled: Rogue Cupid for @heavenandhellbingo, Angel Grace for @spngenrebingo

Warnings: Feelings of inadequacy, angst, mentions of sex and nudity, Worried!Dean and a healthy dose of fluff

Summary: The reader witnesses her boyfriend, Dean, fitting in perfectly with another hunter. She doesn’t know what she’d do without him and mutters to herself. The only problem is someone is always listening. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2977

Written for: @heavenandhellbingo, @spngenrebingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches

A/N: This was inspired by the amazing Briana Buckmaster and her cover of I’d Rather Go Blind because I thought it would make a great case. Also, I feel like I owe y’all something lighter after Watching You. This is written in first person present tense. Hope you like it!

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Werewolf hunt, Sam said. It’ll be fun, Sam said. Well, no it really wasn’t. For a number of reasons. First of all, it was a werewolf hunt. I don’t even like dogs. Second of all, is her. Bouncy, flirtatious, built and boisterous. Katrina, is her name and annoying me seems to be her game. Sure she is a hunter. An old family friend, Sam relayed. Old family friend my ass. I was willing to bet old flame of Dean’s, was more accurate. The only problem I had with that was that I am Dean’s flame now and have been for about a year. 

The history between them is undeniable and all I can do was sit and watch as she swooped right into our game of pool and made me look like a fool. In fact, she has done everything right over the last couple days on this hunt and with Dean. Annoyingly right, and I couldn’t help but feel invisible. The way she walks right next to him. The way she inserts herself so perfectly into any conversation. 

Even now, as I sit and watch them reminisce about the good old days, I see them talking and I can’t help but feel he is on his way out. With her. 

I pick up my beer, my reflection clear as day in the glass and I see tears in my eyes. I can’t compete with her. I think back to the night before. I think back to Dean’s kiss and his warm embrace as we readied for bed. Then he rolled over and fell asleep. 

Clumsily, I excuse myself to use the restroom. I’m sure I look like a mess and I had to get it together before someone, probably Sam, noticed. Or worse. Her. 

I’m finally alone in the single stall. I lock the door and press myself up against it as I let the fresh tears roll down my face. “I’d rather go blind than see you walk away from me,” I sob quietly. 

It takes all the willpower I have to pull my shit together and stop crying. I splash some cold water on my face and steel my resolve as I return to our table. As I walk out of the restroom, I bump into another woman because I can only stare at my hands as I walk. “I’m so sorry.” I rub my shoulder. It feels warm. Maybe I took a hit on the hunt a little harder than I thought. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Sam whispers as I slide back into the booth, across from her and Dean. 

“Um, yeah. I’m just tired, Sammy.” I clear my throat. “”I think I’m going to turn in, though.” I stand to leave.

“Doll? You okay?” Dean finally notices there’s something wrong. 

“Oh, yeah. Just going to head back, I’m beat.” I smile, but I know it looks as fake as it feels. Sam catches my eye and raises an eyebrow. Even he knows I’m lying. 

I make the walk back to the motel across the street quickly, practically running until I can open the door and slam it shut behind me. I let myself lose it again. I strip down to just my panties and tee shirt, collapsing into the bed I share with Dean until I my tears run dry. I am so wrought with exhaustion, I don’t hear Dean return to the room. 

The room is warm, too warm and I try to throw back the covers, but they won’t move. Something heavy is wrapped around my middle. I reach down to remove the obstacle. I can feel it’s Dean’s arm that is weighing me and the blanket down. I grunt with exertion to move him and I shuffle to the bathroom, yawning. I flip the light switch, but nothing happens. It’s still dark. My eyes search the wall again and I flip it a second time. Up and down, up and down, but it only produces a flicker of light. I turn and look toward the bed where I know Dean is still sleeping. I can’t see him. I can’t see anything. “Dean!” 

I blink rapidly, hoping it’s the alcohol from the night before clouding my vision, but it’s not working. I can’t see. “Dean!” 

“What? What happened?” 

Dean is alert now. I can hear him moving from the bed. The rustling of the scratchy comforter, the stiff sheets as he throws them aside. His feet hitting the carpet repeatedly as he nears me. His breath as he fills his lungs. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong doll?” Dean grips my arms firmly as he stands before me. I can feel his body heat. 

“Dean, I-I can’t s-see,” I choke out through my sobs. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m here,” he coos. If there is one thing Dean Winchester is good at, besides, well, everything, he knows how to keep me calm in any situation. 

“Dean, I’m scared.” 

“I know. I know. Let’s get you back into bed and I’m going to call Sam and Cas,” he says. Dean picks me up effortlessly and carries me back to the bed, setting me down gently, as if I were fine china. I breathe him in before he lets go. This is the closest we have been since she arrived. Then he lets go. 

“Sam? I need you here asap! I don’t care. Now!” Dean practically screams at his brother and I hear the angry tap on the glass as he disconnects, then another as he places another call. 

“Cas, buddy, I need you. We need you. Something is wrong with Y/N. She-she’s blind, Cas. I don’t know what happened. Just get here, please.” His voice is soft now. I can hear the worry in it. The concern. It’s not the first time I’ve heard Dean sound like this. It’s ingrained in who he is. I fear it may be the last, though. With her around, he doesn’t need me. He especially doesn’t need a blind me. 

I stand and shuffle to the restroom to try again. I need to pee and shower. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll feel better. 

“Hey, where you going?” Dean questions. 

“To the bathroom. I gotta go,” I tell him. “Maybe I’ll feel better after a shower, too.” 

“I’ll help you,” he offers. 

“I don’t need your help, Dean. It’s a shower,” I scoff. 

“Please let me help you,” he pleads, his voice heavy with guilt. “I wasn’t there to protect from whatever did this. Please.” 

“Fine,” I concede. “Let me do my business first.” 

I do what I need to do and wash my hands. For some reason, I’m nervous. Is it because I’m missing one of my senses? It’s not like Dean has never seen me naked, and this wouldn’t be the first time he has helped me into the shower, so why now? It’s because of her, I’m sure. She has shaken my confidence to the core. My confidence in myself and in my relationship with Dean. I reach for the knobs, but instead of where I expect them in the middle of the wall, I stumble, until my hand connects with one and my knee with the floor. 

The door flies open, banging harshly against the tiled wall. “I thought you were going to let me help you?” 

“I was just trying to turn on the water, but I missed,” I winced, rubbing out the pain in my right knee.

“Here, let me,” he mumbles. I feel his hands at my hips, lifting my shirt. The cooler air rushes over my skin and I shiver. He can feel it. 

The water turns on and I can feel the steam filling the room, filling my lungs, sticking to my skin. I can hear the rustle of clothing and then I can feel his warm body next to mine, warming me. His able arms pick me up and set me in the shower. He holds on until my feet are firm below me, and he pulls the curtain closed. 

My back is to the shower head and the water runs through my hair and down my body. Dean turns us and I can feel his hands in my hair. The fresh smell of my apple shampoo fills my nose. I hear him take a deep breath and I wonder if he knows I only use it because he loves the way it smells. I think he finds comfort in it.

He turns us again to rinse the suds from my hair, and works in a bit of conditioner. I feel for the wall behind me and step back so he can wash his own hair. I fumble for my body wash, but come up empty. The room is silent except for the running water, but I can hear his mind working, wondering why I have to be so stubborn and try to do it on my own. 

“Here, I got it, doll.” His voice is soft, but I can hear him over the rushing water. The cloth is rough on my flesh, but his touch is gentle as he runs it over me. “You want to, uh, finish or…” 

His words hang in the air. If we were feeling frisky, Dean would wash everywhere for me. We like to make it a game. See who can get the other worked up the fastest, but this is not a game. I am feeling the furthest from frisky. And it seems too intimate, given the circumstances. 

I shake my head, wet strands slapping my face. “I can do it.” I turn my back to him, using the wall for support and guidance. I can feel his eyes on me as I do. He wants to make sure I don’t slip. 

We finish and I step back into the spray to rinse the thick cream from my hair. I feel his arms reach around my legs to turn off the water and now the room is too quiet. 

“Help me find my towel?” I ask quietly. 

“I got it right here,” he responds and I feel his hand in mine. “Step up and over…good. Now the other one.” 

Dean is patient with me, with the situation. He towels off my body gingerly, as if I might crack, before he squeezes the water from my hair. 

“I’m going to grab your clothes. Have a seat,” he says, lowering me to the edge of the tub. The door opens and I can hear him talking to Sam in hushed tones I can’t quite make out. But then I can hear Sam on his laptop, drumming away at the keys, no doubt looking for a solution to my current predicament. Dean returns with my clothes and I can feel his fingers on the towel. 

“I can dress myself, Dean,” I snap and am immediately sorry. “I-I’m sorry. Thank you for helping me shower. I think I can take it from here. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“Okay,” he murmurs and I feel his stubble and warm lips against mine. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

So many things we take for granted, like the ability to dress ourselves. I put my underwear on backwards on my first attempt. I take more time with my shirt, feeling for the tag before slipping it over my head. The jeans are a little easier. I open the door and am met with silence. I start scuttling along the carpet, somewhat familiar with the path to the bed. “Dean?”

“I’m right here,” he says, reassuringly. In an instant, his arm is around my waist, the other holding my hand as he guides me to sit at the table with Sam. He takes both my hands and wraps them around something warm. “Coffee. Careful, it’s hot.” 

“Do we know anything yet?” I ask, optimistically. These men, these hunters, my family, are the best at what we do. 

“What do you remember from last night?” Sam queries. “You only had a couple of drinks, Y/N, so I know you weren’t drunk. Try to clear your mind. Think.” 

I remember a lot from last night, very little of which I wish to share with either Winchester, least of all Dean. I turn my head to where I can hear him pacing. “Dean? Do you think you can grab some breakfast? I’m starving.” 

“Sure thing, Doll. Thinking on a full stomach sounds like a great idea,” Dean mumbles and slips his coat on. The keys in his pocket jingle. “The usual?” 

I nod and smile. “Thank you.” I sip my coffee until I hear the Impala drive away. 

“I remember everything, Sam. I remember her and this stupid hunt. I remember watching them together. Talking together. Walking, playing pool. Doing everything together,” I pause and swallow the lump of emotion that is caught in my throat. 

“Y/N, there’s noth-” Sam starts, but I cut him off. 

“I remember thinking how natural they look together. How perfectly she just fits into his life,” I emphasize. “I kept thinking to myself I’d rather go blind than to see him walk away from me. I’d rather be blind than to see him with her.” 

“Okay, that might be something,” Sam’s fingers fly across the keyboard, googling something no doubt. “What else do you remember? Did anything happen when you went to the bathroom? Did you see anyone that looked out of place? Did you talk to anyone?” 

“No, Sam. I went to the bathroom and cried. I splashed water on my face then came back out. I bumped into a woman on my way, then I left and came right back here-,” I recounted for him. “Wait. The woman. I bumped into her with my shoulder. It was all warm. I was thinking maybe I got hit harder than I thought, but it doesn’t hurt and it’s not warm.”

“What did she look like?” Sam asked. 

“She was short, tiny. Maybe five foot. She had light brown hair and it was pulled back in a bun. She was dressed conservatively and I remembered thinking she looked out of place in the bar,” I rambled as Sam listened intently, the keys going silent. 

“Probably not a witch,” Sam pondered. “Angel, maybe? Can angels even do that? Cas!”

The distinct flutter of wings rent the air. “Y/N, you are not well.” 

“No shit Sherlock,” I chortle. I feel his fingers press to my forehead, as they have many times before, but before Cas can use his grace, the door opens and I hear Dean’s boots on the carpet. 

“Cas? Can you heal her?” Dean demands. 

“Yes, I can. Whoever did this to her left a touch of their grace behind,” he informs them. 

“An angel did this? Since when do angels give the gift of blindness?” Dean’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Dickbags.” 

Cas’s fingers are cool on my skin, but soon a warmth fills me. I blink my eyes, shadows becoming formed figures. I glance around the room, still blinking my eyes as they adjust to the change. I see Dean, his eyes hopeful. Sam is still next to me, his brow furrowed. Cas is standing above me, anger twitching in his facial muscles. 

“Danael…” he growls. 

“Cas, what kind of angel can do this?” Sam poses. 

“Angels contain infinite power, Sam. We have the power to answer prayers. I believe that is what Danael thought she was doing,” Cas theorized. “There have been reports of a rogue cupid, but this is the only instance I have witnessed their treachery.”

“Dickbags,” Dean mutters again, but he is kneeling now, right next to me. 

“Doll, you okay?” His eyes search mine as he waits for my reply. 

“I can see,” I respond, not sure what else to say. 

Sam clears his throat and makes eye contact with me. “Tell him.” He mouths at me, then stands. “I’m going to go change. Cas, come on.” 

“You want me to accompany you to your room to watch you undress?” Cas asks. 

“Just come with me,” Sam groans. 

Sam and Cas are gone, leaving me alone with Dean. I don’t know where to start. I don’t know what to say. I fiddle with my hands. He notices. 

“Hey, what’s going on in that gorgeous mind of yours?” He lifts my chin and I am forced to look at him. 

“If you want to be with her, just tell me,” I whisper, then I start rambling. “I love you so much I don’t wanna watch you leave me. Most of all I just don’t wanna be free. I’m so scared you’re going to drop me and go back to her. And I just can’t take that. We’ve never been big on commitment, but I don’t want to be free. I want to be yours.” 

“What? Who?” Dean is taken aback by my words. “Katrina?” He huffs.

“Yes. Her.” I swallow heavily. “I can’t compete with her Dean. You and she obviously have a history. A history I know nothing about and I don’t fit.” 

“Y/N, there is nothing, I repeat nothing, between me and her,” Dean insists. “She is an old family friend, that’s all. We do have a history, yes. But it’s nothing compared to the history I have with you, doll.” 

My insides warm as he speaks. “But…”

“Stop. I can’t make all those feelings, all those thoughts go away. I can only tell you the truth and hope you believe me,” Dean reiterates. “She bats for the other team.” 

“What?” I can feel my eyes go wide at his words. 

“She’s a lesbian, doll. I kissed her once, before she told me she liked girls. I was relieved, to be honest. Bobby woulda killed me,” he laughed. “And you do fit. Right here next to me. You’re my missing puzzle piece.” 

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @seenashwrite @crashdevlin @thoughtslikeaminefield

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants  @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever @supernatural-jackles​

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh E8 S4: Joey’s Turn to Hallucinate During a Card Game

Alright, lets jump into Yugioh while I wait to wake up this morning. Hate mornings. Hate them.

So I guess in the Yugioh universe, San Fransisco avoided Loma Prieta, but instead got smacked by a KaibaCorp satellite dropping from space. Dunno which is worse but uh.......thanks, Seto. Maybe the building was empty though. I mean it’s not like anyone is here right now. apparently everyone working for Pegasus does so from their laptop in their pj’s situated in their apartments in Oakland.

And good news, this is one of the episodes with That Really Good Storyboarder. Like you can REALLY tell when this particular storyboarder enters the room, and apparently they really like Joey episodes?

Anyway, for anyone who’s like “I want to draw hands better.” This whole episode is a good study for how to do dynamic hands. It’s insane.

In fact apparently there is an art book just about hands in the works BY the guy who designed a lot of the Yugioh hand shots--thing is it’s entirely in Japanese and I don’t really know much Japanese....so I’m waiting for it in English. But, my friend translated the promo for me and mentioned that if you preorder the book you get 3 instructional videos for drawing dynamic hands from this particular artist.

Only problem is, the videos would go right over my head because it’s still not in English, so uh, missed opportunity because I never got serious with my Duolingo. O well. And people keep asking “are you learning Japanese for anime? Are you dating a Japanese guy?” and it’s like no, for reals, I’m an artist, this is just what you have to do, learn Spanish, learn French, learn Japanese, or you will miss out on so many good tutorials. Like every DAY I see a good ass tutorial on Twitter and it’s like...did they have to hand-write it?

Anyway if you want to buy it, it’s on Japanese Amazon and I don’t know what it’s called because it’s been a hot minute since it’s been a few months since I’ve looked at it. But it exists. I have no idea if it’ll be shipped internationally either, in fact, I was just gonna ask very nicely to my one friend like it’s middle school and I need some good looking authentic jelly pens delivered. But youknow...instead I’ll keep an eye out because I’m banking on this getting translated into English.

I will let you ALL know when I see this book translated into English.

(read more under the cut)

So, we start this episode with Mai being transported to Atlantis island. I’m not entirely sure if the Atlantis Island is the same place as the Atlantis on the bottom of the ocean, but whether she’s above or below the water won’t matter because they did a very wise jump cut.

So I have no idea if she jumped out of a motorcycle to get here. Maybe?

Anyway, Valon introduces her to the Lair. Shows her the snakes, the fire torches that are always lit, a couple more snakes. Youknow, normal stuff for a completely normal date.

PS I do appreciate the bismuth pattern here. Bismuth is a really amazing under-used concept art tool. I mean LOOK at bismuth.

Gollllll I just want to see a whole lot more bismuth in art, it pops.

And then, Valon decides to introduce Mai to his Dad, who is a LOT when you get up close to him.

Man just SO many elements here. The head chain, the yellow eyeball (which is the same eye that Pegasus wore his golden eyeball--dunno if it’s related but as I’ve mentioned before, this show is rude to eyes), The very LONG lower lashes (I’m a SUCKER for putting long lower lashes on all of OC’s myself, it’s a good time) the amount of side-bangs on this guy that would have taken like 12 hair extensions. the wind always seems to flow around him to pick up his cloak and his cape (yes he has both) And on the back he has like a princess Jasmine style ponytail where it’s like......how does he do that? Truly magical, this Ultimate-OC-looking-guy is.

We again recap a little more of Mai’s perspective from the Prism, which I didn’t think she’d be able to see everyone else from...but apparently she saw enough.

And so, because Mai didn’t want to feel scared ever again, she decided to instead feel nothing. Trade in your plateauing card career for getting OP card magic powers. I mean, it tracks.

Then our Storyboarder just started FLEXING.

Y’all.

He just...did that.

Do you know how good you have to know hands to draw that? You’d have to firstly know hands like a freakin hand surgeon, then you’d have to get like so many different references to study what the hell is even going on there. Go ahead and do this hand pose. You CAN’T. It’s amazing. And on top of that--she’s wearing a fingerless glove? And a weird duel disk in perspective?

This whole thing is FORESHORTENED are you freakin kidding me???

This storyboarder!

Enter Duke, who just woke up today thinking it’d be a normal day but alas, it was a Yugi Muto day, and you can’t escape this asshole even if you fly halfway across the world. He will show up, somehow blow up some gas station, and your boss will be mysteriously dead and there’s nothing Duke can do about this horrible curse he’s had to deal with ever since Pharaoh cursed him with Being Friends With Pharaoh. The worst curse.

Like imagine you showed up at Apple Headquarters and this madness was there instead of a lobby.

Then, because things aren’t yet weird enough for Duke Devlin to just walk into, the dragon card starts glowing and takes our third dragon boy on a Spiritual Dragon Journey.

Right now.

During a card game where Joey is facing off a serial murderer/ex-not-a-girlfriend.

And it’s not just Joey and Yugi this time.

...I know I was just applauding this storyboarder but there is NO WAY they didn’t know what they were doing. I get that Seto has a thing for dragons. I don’t need this upskirt shot to remind me of his weird hallucinatory love affair with dragons.

The amount of weird upskirts they like to do with Seto. I mean I’m glad it’s not Mai but youknow...I just didn’t expect this.

Ever.

I never expected this shot with the...joystick.

There is a very obvious joystick in this shot and like 15-45 animators looked at this and said “well it’s too late now, the good storyboarder likes it, and this is the toll we pay.”

I just want to know if any animators saw this and said to their friend “hey....I need to go take a break. Want to go to a very long lunch and forget this ever happened?”

And that’s the whole dream. We are now officially out of porky dragons, which means everyone else in this party will just have........nothing to do, right?

Is it too much to ask that Mokuba get to have a dragon?

Way too much to ask, just realized it as I was typing it.

The concern coming off of Mokuba right now.

Like seriously Mokuba is in a constant state of “do I listen to my older brother or do I heavily sedate my older brother before I get abducted for the sixth time?”

Apparently all of the Orichalcos etc is responding to the dragons, which makes sense, since it’s like...toys that were sold next to eachother in the toy store. Just feels like these things are constantly glowing but everyone forgets that there’s not just three cards and three stones but also Yugi has a stone in his pocket somewhere.

We just have a lot of artifacts hanging out everywhere but it’s Yugioh, so of course no one is going to keep track of any of them. If only Bakura were here, he’d have that down but like...instead it’s the Yugi team, so if it’s not directly around your neck it just doesn’t exist.

Anyway, it’s the holidays so I’ll get the next post up......sometime? Kind of a shame what happened to my update schedule but that’s life.

And if you want to read these from the beginning, you can click on this link here