#i was sorting through some old sketchbooks n stuff recently n i found. what was an attempt at a book. written by me at age: i have no idea

[blockofhoney]

idk why but i think writing in 2nd person is easier for me than writing in 3rd or 1st

[alectoperdita]

Fictober - Day 24

prompt: “are you kidding me?” fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters pairing: Joey Wheeler/Seto Kaiba rating: teen warnings: takes place against the backdrop of a pandemic, that while not explicitly named, is very similar to current circumstances a/n: a socially-distanced dating AU, part 2

April bled into May, and Joey spent most of that time drowning in concept sketches and 3D models for the new levels that the creative lead had specced out. 

To his surprise, Seto didn't ghost him after the first few conversations. 

They didn't talk every day, but close enough.

Like the weekly trip to the grocery store and occasional walks in a nearby park, talking to Seto had become one of the few bright spots in quarantine life. Every time his phone buzzed with a new notification, Joey hoped it was a new message from Seto.

Joey quickly deduced how much of an early riser Seto was by his early morning replies to Joey's messages from late in the previous night. Seto rarely responded to messages between nine and six, which led Joey to wonder if he often skipped lunch like several techies he knew. Seto had yet to provide any specific details about where he worked or what he specifically did, but based on how he responded when Joey talked about his work, Joey had him pegged as a programmer of some sort.

Three weeks after they first matched, they moved their correspondence off the dating app when they exchanged Instagram handles. Joey wasn't surprised to see that the account was private and followed less than a dozen people. The fact that Joey was now on that shortlist made him feel a bit giddy. 

Seto was not a frequent poster, and his account contained very few selfies. He always shared the spotlight with a raven-haired teenage boy, who must be the aforementioned little brother, in those photos. At least the Seto that appeared on the account matched the man in the dating app's profile, so Joey could take comfort that he wasn't being catfished. The rest of Seto's posts mostly contained scenic photography. 

Maybe Seto actually worked in consulting? Because he appeared to have traveled regularly before the pandemic. 

The most curious photo was one that captured the complicated, inner guts of an open Duel Disk. That lent credence to Seto's claim to work in tech because most people didn't crack open a Duel Disk for fun.

In comparison, Joey's Instagram was a public account that chronicled his extended stint through art school. The photos ranged from selfies taken with friends and former classmates, doodles from his sketchbook and napkins, and strange and exciting things that caught his attention on the street of New York. He recently used the account to document his cross-country move and his explorations around his new city. 

He hadn't posted anything new since March, though. The last photo was one of his work-from-home setup taken two days after the studio office closed.

But he knew for a fact that Seto had gone through his old posts because he'd liked the last photo Joey had taken with his sister before leaving New York. When he first saw the notification, he'd rolled around on top of his bed for several ecstatic moments.

He had no idea what Seto sounded like, but Joey slowly found himself falling for Seto's quick wit, intelligence, and even his seriousness. Was this what old-timey courtship, when people had been limited to writing letters to each other, felt like?

If they could actually meet, that'd be Joey's highlight of this entire freaking miserable year. 

Joey I'm gonna shrivel up and die if I don't get some socialization soon

Seto You socialize every day with your coworkers. You call your sister every week.

Joey Yeah, but I haven't talked to anyone in real life besides my roommate in forever I wanna talk to my coworkers about stuff other than work I miss people, okay?

Seto If you all wear a mask and stay far enough apart, you can more or less safely go hang out with your coworkers.

Joey I'll bring it up to the others, maybe they're going as stir crazy as me  What about you? How are you holding up two? Three months into this bullshit?

Seto I'm mostly frustrated on my brother's behalf. He's due to start college in the fall.

Joey Shit, that sucks a lot Sorry for your little bro, no one wants to start college like this

Seto Thank you. As for myself, I have my work to keep occupied. But I sometimes find myself actually missing those obnoxious meetings that required me to attend in person.

Joey Yeah, I hear ya Don't get too caught up in just working though. You gotta have fun once in a while.

Seto Yes, sadly, tournaments are not going to start up any time soon.

Joey chewed on his bottom lip and cast a glance at his old Duel Disk that he'd dug out of his closet. Maybe this was his chance...

Joey We can duel each other I mean, dueling is like the perfect socially distanced activity to do outdoors

Seto didn't reply for several minutes, causing Joey's anxiety to shoot through the roof. When he finally did, Joey nearly cried in relief.

Seto Is this a date?

Joey If you want it to be

Seto It's a far better choice than asking me out for a drink.

-x-x-x-

The following Sunday, Joey strapped his Duel Disk to his arm and biked out to Golden Gate Park. He locked his bike near the eastern entrance and donned his fabric mask before traipsing into the park. Joey then pulled on the nicest shirt he owned, a red short-sleeved oxford, to hide his sweat-dampened t-shirt. It didn't take him long to find Seto out on an isolated patch of grass with a black mask covering the lower half of his face. His gaze was focused on the phone in his hand, while the latest Duel Disk model in sleek silver and blue sat on his non-dominant arm.

Joey came to a stop at the requisite six-feet distance and called, "Nice to finally meet ya, Seto!"

Lifting his head, their eyes met. Seto's eyes appeared almost too blue under the bright afternoon sun. "Joey," he greeted in a rich voice that maybe had Joey swooning a bit.

For several moments, they studied each other from a distance. Seto turned out to be several inches taller than Joey, and he'd come to today's date dressed in a navy polo shirt over fashionably skinny black jeans. Feeling self-conscious, Joey reached up and tried to smooth out his hair, which was probably windswept from his bike ride. 

"Shall we begin?" asked Seto.

"What? No ice-breaker?" Joey joked.

"The duel is the ice-breaker," replied Seto confidently. 

Joey wondered if he was smiling underneath the mask. "Let's go then!"

As Joey suspected, Seto was an advanced duelist. He never seemed to lack counters to respond with. The duel's intensity kept Joey on his toes and had him sweating almost as much as the bike ride over. While he did his best, the goddess of victory did not favor him.

"Jeeze, you play like an absolute beast," said Joey after his life points ticked to nothing.

"I play to win." Seto's eyes shone in such a way that Joey was sure he was smiling viciously under the cloth mask.

"Ya coulda gone a little easier on me. Ya know I'm a bit rusty at the game, and it's our first date. Don't ya wanna make a good impression?" he pouted, but the effect was probably lost with the face mask.

Seto arched an elegant eyebrow. "My overwhelming victory didn't impress you?"

Joey laughed. Never had he been so happy to lose a duel.

-x-x-x-

Every other Sunday, they met at Golden Gate Park for a duel. They started bringing food and drinks with them to enjoy afterward as they talked about their week. They had become bonafide dates, except for the part where they always stayed six feet apart and couldn't touch. 

Lounging on a blanket, he glanced longingly at Seto's long fingers as they gripped the neck of a single-serving bottle of wine. What would those fingers feel like against his skin? What would it feel like to pull that mask down and kiss him? These were the questions slowly driving Joey insane every time they saw each other. 

To distract himself, he asked a different question that had been bothering him. "You've been playing a different deck every time. Have you been building a new one for each one?"

"I have. My main deck's—" Seto paused to consider his words. "Quite distinctive. Besides, you're not ready to face it."

"But I'm getting better each time! I almost beat you today. It's only a matter of time. I have someone from work giving me tips. He's a real pro. I doubt even you can beat him." He threw a broad grin at his date, forgetting that it wouldn't be visible.

Yuugi, the studio's tech lead, had won several national championships.

Seto sensed it, though, and may have smiled in return if the crinkling around his eyes were any indication. "Is that so? You're taking this very seriously for a hobby player."

"Well, there's this cute guy I'm trying to impress, ya see?" Joey winked.

His heart fluttered when he spotted the hints of a blush seeping out from under Seto's mask. He was officially dying to touch his date.

-x-x-x-

"Is this what touch-starved feels like?" Joey bemoaned as he stared at the living room ceiling.

After retrieving the PS4 controller from across the room, his roommate returned and gave him a skeptical look. "Do you need a hug or something?"

"Maybe?"

His roommate plopped down on the couch next to him and gave him a quick hug and a pat on the head as he pulled away. Joey flopped listlessly against the sofa arm.

"Guess that didn't help," muttered his roommate.

"No, it was nice," sighed Joey. "But you're not the one I wanna touch and hold."

"Ah! I get it now. This is about the guy you've been seeing on Sundays. Take it that's been going well if you're moping like this."

"Yeah. God, I really, really like him. I wanna touch him and kiss him so much I could die."

"A little overdramatic, but I get it," his roommate said sympathetically.

Joey sat up again and wailed. "This pandemic is the fucking worst. Why did I meet him now?"

His roommate fell silent for a while as he booted up The Ghost of Tsushima. "Well... you both work from home, right?"

Joey nodded. 

"And it sounds like he's been pretty careful overall, just like you. You can try and get tested, but we know what a crapshoot that's been. If you two agree to be, well, exclusive, maybe you guys can move to the next stage," suggested his roommate.

"You'd be okay with that?"

"I mean, it's all about forming social pods, right? If the two of us are clear and he and his immediate family are clear, then we should be okay."

"He lives with his little brother, and I think he's been pretty strict about the kid quarantining too."

"It's not that much different than getting tested and talking about STDs and stuff when you think about it. Be honest and check in with each other. See if he'd be comfortable with the idea first."

Joey chewed on his bottom lip. "I'll think about it. I should probably ask him what his last name is..."

"Oh my fucking god!" His roommate exclaimed and chucked a cushion at his face. "Are you for fucking real?"

-x-x-x-

At the end of their monthly playtest meeting, the studio director, Atem, dropped the news. "We have a new minority investor in the company. Please don't be alarmed. This changes nothing about the way we operate or the creative choices we make in our products. More money and more resources mean we'll be able to invest more in our games."

Ryou, the art team lead, raised a tentative hand in his video square before asking, "Can you tell us who it is?"

"It's KC," replied Atem calmly.

Joey's ears crackled with the team's various reactions, ranging from soft gasps to exclamations of "oh my god."

"Wait, the KC as in the Kaiba Corporation? The one that makes Duel Disks?" Tristan, the office manager, asked for further clarification.

"Yes. Don't forget they have a video game publishing division as well," reminded Atem. "The point is that it's an investor relationship. They're not acquiring us. There'll be no change in management. The company is impressed by the quality of our work and wants to help us continue to grow. So really, it's thanks to everyone's hard work on this call that we were able to secure this opportunity."

It was hard to share a look with coworkers when everyone was in disparate locations across the Bay Area. Some of them, Joey included, tried.

Atem continued, "The reason that I'm bringing this up now is because the announcement is being made tomorrow. I wanted you all to know first before that happened, but please remember to keep it on the down-low until then. I'll also be putting a meeting on the calendar for tomorrow, where we will have a brief meet-and-greet with some representatives from KC. Again, don't panic. Okay, thanks to everyone for your thoughtful playtest feedback. We'll be going through all the comments and converting the high-priority concerns into action items you'll be able to see in Asana soon. Bye."

The meeting ended with the always abrupt dialog box stating, "The host has ended the meeting."

Yuugi was in his Slack DMs in seconds.

Yuugi Omg omg, I knew Atem was looking for investors for a while, but even this caught me by surprise!

Joey dude shouldn't he have told you? you're like tech lead

Yuugi Like Atem said, it's a minority stake. It doesn't give them the right to do tech diligence on us or anything.

Joey so you're not worried at all?

Yuugi No, this is probably the best possible outcome. Atem already has a working relationship with the CEO. They were active in Duel Monsters around the same time. I've met him twice too. I think he'll be more hands-off than you think.  It'd be another story if we were acquired.

Joey cool cool cool still not totally freaking out about meeting the bigwigs tomorrow shit, i gotta iron my good shirt

Yuugi Lol don't worry, it's not like Kaiba himself going to come to the meeting

-x-x-x-

As it turned out, Yuugi was dead wrong. 

As soon as he joined the Zoom call, one particular black rectangle caught Joey's attention. 

S. Kaiba

Video was off, and there was a red muted icon in the bottom right. 

But with 30 plus people on the call, the rectangle fell quickly off the first screen as Atem greeted everyone. 

Reflexively, Joey ducked out of frame and used his phone camera in selfie mode to make sure his appearance was more or less neatly. Like him, most of the team had chosen to dress a notch or two above their usual work attire of t-shirts and hoodies. Tea was wearing makeup for the first time in weeks. Several people, Miho included, had cleaned their rooms/offices or moved to a spot in their homes where there was nothing but a bare white-washed wall behind them.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Thanks for joining us on such short notice," Atem began, calm and collected as always. "This meeting is meant to give us a chance to introduce ourselves and set us forward on the path to a smooth working relationship. As many of you know, my name is Atem Hussain, and I'm the director of Black Magic Games."

Another rectangle labeled "Megan Sullivan" lit up around its border as a woman in her mid-thirties and dressed conservatively in a business suit introduced herself. "Hi, everyone. It's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm Megan, the VP of Operations here at KC. We're actually lucky to have Mr. Kaiba join us today."

"Good afternoon," a familiar deep voice rumbled in Joey's ears, and he jumped out of his chair. 

S. Kaiba, as in Seto Kaiba, returned to the top of the video grid. The same pair of deep blue eyes that haunted Joey's dreams of late stared back at him. Joey hadn't seen the bottom half of Seto's face outside of dating app photos and Instagram, but he recognized the smooth-shaven jawline on his screen. Seto was dressed in business formal, though he'd discarded the jacket for now. His ice blue tie popped against the dark gray of his neat button-up. 

"Are you kidding me?" Joey screeched. 

A dead silence followed on the call. He hadn't muted himself yet. 

"Sorry," he apologized hastily, then muted himself and turned off his video for good measure. 

Probably too little too late. If Seto hadn't noticed him before, he definitely did after that little outburst. Seto Kaiba was definitely the man he'd been playing Duel Monsters with every other Sunday at the park. Seto—23, 10 miles away—was none other than the CEO of the Kaiba Corporation. 

Joey was an idiot. He wanted to die. He didn't know if he was more embarrassed by the fact that he'd never connected those two dots before or that he'd finally realized it now of all times. He barely paid attention to the rest of the meeting, only unmuting himself for 30 seconds to introduce himself at Ryou's urging ("Joey Wheeler. I work on art assets and modeling.").

He pulled up the Wikipedia page for the Kaiba Corporation, which he should have done yesterday when Atem first told Them. There, in the info box to the side, under "Key People"—CEO: Seto Kaiba. He followed the link through to Seto's page. The photo provided must be from several years ago because Seto was wearing that flamboyant trench coat getup that Joey remembered as defining "Kaiba" through much of his high school and early college years. Was that how he'd been fooled so thoroughly? Because Seto now dressed like a normal person instead of a supervillain? 

Maybe he could blame it on the face mask? 

The meeting was only scheduled for half an hour, but it felt like an eternity. Joey kept tabbing through photos he found of Seto Kaiba online and the Zoom window to compare them and kick himself over and over again. His only saving grace was he wasn't an active participant in the meeting. All he was expected to do was listen and stare.

He nearly had a heart attack when a message popped up on his screen with two minutes on the clock.

From S. Kaiba to You:

Stay on afterward. We should talk.

"Okay, thanks to everyone for joining us today. We look forward to supporting all the amazing work your studio has been doing. Bye," chirped Megan.

A chorus of "byes" rang in Joey's ear as people exited the Zoom meeting in droves. Soon, the only two rectangles that remained were his and Seto's.

Seto sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Will you turn on your video?"

With a shaky hand, Joey turned on his webcam again. They stared at each other over the internet. It was one of the strangest things Joey had done in a year full of nothing but weird strangeness.

"Did you know?" Joey blurted, fidgeting with nervous energy.

"What? That you worked at Atem's studio? No. Joey's a pretty common name, and you never gave me your last."

Joey buried his burning face in his hands. His headphones slipped forward over his forehead. "God, you must think I'm a fucking idiot. Seto. How many people on this planet are named Seto of all things?"

"Maybe in America," Seto replied calmly. "It's not unheard of where my parents were from. I was actually glad when you remained oblivious to who I was. It was...refreshing that you had no preconceived notions about me."

Joey peeked at Seto through his fingers. "No wonder you were cagey about giving too many details about what you did. And yeah, your main deck with the Blue-Eyes White Dragon would have been a dead giveaway. Still doesn't make me any less of a dumbass."

"I did consider dropping some hints recently to see if you would put the pieces together," chortled Seto. It was nice to see the curve of his soft lips without a mask covering them. It made Joey want to kiss him even more.

Dropping his hands into his lap, Joey straightened. "So, what now? Are we, like, done then?"

His stomach plummeted at the thought. It was one thing to want to date Seto, who was already out of Joey's league, but to date the Seto Kaiba? Not to mention, wasn't this sort of thing a conflict of interest or something?

Seto considered him long and hard over the video connection. "I'm not your boss. Atem is. I wouldn't usually bother with meetings like this one if I didn't know Atem personally. At the end of the day, you're still Joey, whether you worked for Black Magic or another game studio."

Joey sucked in a deep breath. "Then, we still on for this Sunday?"

"Yes, if you would like." Seto's eyes darted to the side momentarily as he admitted, "I would like it."

Fuck, yeah, cute. Joey had no defense against those almost shy reactions. "Will you bring your real deck this time?"

Seto met his eyes again and smiled. "Yes, I suppose now's the time."

-x-x-x-

Sunday was another gorgeous California day, and the two of them met at their usual dueling spot. Seto's dragons were something to behold in person. They were bigger and more ferocious than Joey remembered seeing on streams, and they trounced his deck in an embarrassing number of turns.

After the duel, they cautiously approached each other. Every step that brought him closer to Seto made Joey's heart race faster. They'd exchanged phone numbers and had several long and honest conversations after that fated Zoom meeting. To Joey's undying delight, Seto had expressed similar thoughts about advancing their relationship, even going so far as to help Joey secure a test in the days leading up to today's date. 

Both of them had come back negative as hoped.

"Great duel," Joey complimented and hesitantly removed his mask.

Seto followed his example and smirked at him. "Now that I know Yuugi's been the one tutoring you, I can read your moves too easily."

Joey rolled his eyes and punched him in the arm. "Shaddup, not all of us are national DM champions."

As he withdrew his fist, Seto caught his wrist. The feeling of those long, spindly fingers that Joey had admired from afar for weeks gripping his skin sent electricity racing up his arm and down his spine. Seto's pale fingers felt cool against Joey's tanned skin, now clammy from sweat and nerves. Joey's breath caught in his throat as he forgot how to breathe. Fuck, he wasn't dreaming. This was direct skin-to-skin contact. 

"I should have asked first," Seto said and released him.

"No, come back." 

This time, Joey reached out and grabbed Seto's hand. The palm pressed to his felt equally damp and seemed to tremble at the contact. Shifting his grip carefully, he intertwined their fingers and held tight. He swore he could get high off this simple touch.

He lifted his head and smiled softly at his date. "This is what we talked about. We both agreed we wanted this, right?"

Mutely, Seto nodded. His rounded eyes were still fixed on their linked hands. Joey looked back down, similarly enthralled by the sight. Distantly, he realized they probably looked like idiots to the outside observer, two men standing shellshocked in the middle of the grass while holding hands. 

Several moments later, Joey loudly declared, "This means we're exclusive now. You hafta delete tinder right now."

That snapped Seto out of his daze. An arrogant smirk appeared on his kissable lips. "Moving a bit fast, aren't we?"

Joey lifted their clasped hands, marveling at the way their fingers laced together and the warmth between their flushed palms. "Man, we're touching, like touching-touching. That basically makes us pandemic married."

Seto laughed. It carried a note of the mania that Joey now remembered from his old duels, but it was also unexpectedly rich and warm. Feeling daring, Joey stepped closer and pressed his cheek to Seto's shaking shoulder and soaked in the delightful sound.

Check out other puppy/violetshipping ficlets I’m writing all #fictober20 long

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 29

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 29 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 29/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - Prepare yourselves for fluff my friends, ‘cause these next few chapters are full of it.]

The Doctor and Elise exited the TARDIS.

“No, Amy, it's definitely not the fifth moon of Cindie Colesta. I think I can see a Ryman's,” the Doctor said.

An explosion came from inside the TARDIS and threw the two of them to the ground as the TARDIS started to take off by itself.

“Amy! Amy!” the Doctor yelled.

As the Doctor stared at the spot where the TARDIS once stood, Elise looked around them.

They were on earth obviously, but where?

The Doctor stood up and brushed himself off.

What were they supposed to do now? Where would they stay? How would they get the TARDIS back? What if they never got it back?

“Hey”, the Doctor said, kneeling in front of her, “Elise, look at me”.

Elise snapped out of her thoughts and looked at his calming green eyes.

“I will get Amy and the TARDIS back. I promise. It’ll be okay”, he told her, “This will just be a daddy/daughter trip, okay?”

Elise nodded.

“Now come here”, he said.

Elise wrapped her arms around his neck and the Doctor rubbed her back to try and keep her calm.

They just needed to find somewhere to stay while he figured out what they were going to do. The first thing the Doctor did was sonic an ATM to get some money.

He smiled remembering doing the same thing after he met Donna. The Doctor looked down at Elise as he remembered the other ginger that had magically appeared in his TARDIS.

He got them something to eat and checked them into a hotel for the night. If the TARDIS didn’t appear soon, he was going to have to go shopping for some new clothes for Elise.

Elise slept curled up into the Doctor’s side that night. She missed Amy and the little blue box she called home.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, they wandered around the town for a while until the Doctor spotted a card sitting in the window of a shop. He picked it up and smiled, recognizing his companion’s hand writing.

They followed the directions to the house and rang the doorbell.

A man threw open the door and said, “I love you.”

The Doctor smiled. “Well, that's good, because I'm your new lodger. Do you know, this is going to be easier than I expected.” He took the fluffy pink keys from the man.

“But I only put the advert up today. I didn't put my address,” the man said.

“Well, aren't you lucky I came along? More lucky than you know. Less of a young professional, more of an ancient amateur, but frankly I'm an absolute dream.”

“Hang on a minute, mate. I don't know if I want you staying.” The man looked down at Elise. “Umm, the ad didn’t say anything about having kids”.

“Oh, well Elise is very well behaved”.

“She doesn’t cry or anything? Throw temper tantrums?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that”.

Elise gave the man a small wave.

The man took the keys from the Doctor. “Give me back those keys. You can't have those.”

“Yes, quite right. Have some rent.” The Doctor handed the man a bag with money in it. He had of course keep some for himself and Elise, just in case they needed anything. “That's probably quite a lot, isn't it?” the Doctor asked, “Looks like a lot. Is it a lot? I can never tell.” The Doctor invited himself in and Elise followed behind him.

The lights upstairs flickered, giving Elise a bad feeling. There was something wrong about the upstairs.

“Don't spend it all on sweets, unless you like sweets,” the Doctor told him, “I like sweets. Oh!” The Doctor put his hands on the man’s shoulders and air kissed him on both cheeks. “That's how we greet each other nowadays, isn't it? I'm the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor. I don't know why. I call me the Doctor, too. Still don't know why. And this is Elise.”

“Craig Owens. The Doctor?”

“Yep. Who lives upstairs?”

“Just some bloke.”

“What's he look like?”

“Normal. He's very quiet.”

There was a loud crash.

“Usually.”

The Doctor entered Craig’s flat.

“Sorry, who are you again? Hello? Excuse me?”

The Doctor looked up and saw the stain on the ceiling. “Ah. I suppose that's dry rot?” he asked.

“Or damp. Or mildew.”

“Or none of the above.”

“I'll get someone to fix it.”

“No, I'll fix it. I'm good at fixing rot. Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister. This is the most beautiful parlor I have ever seen. You're obviously a man of impeccable taste.” The Doctor hopped up on the counter. “We can stay, Craig, can't we? Say we can.”

“You haven't even seen the room.”

“The room?”

“Your room.”

“My room? Oh, yes. My room.”

Elise tugged on his pant leg.

“Our room. Take us to our room.”

Craig led them to the room they would be staying in. “Yeah, this is Mark's old room. He owns the place. Moved out about a month ago. This uncle he'd never even heard of died and left a load of money in the will,” Craig said.

“How very convenient. This'll do just right. In fact…”

There was another loud crash from the flat above.

The Doctor touched his tongue with his index finger and tested the air. “No time to lose. I'll take it. Ah you'll want to see my credentials. There.” The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper and shower it to Craig. “National Insurance number. NHS number. References.”

“Is that a reference from the Archbishop of Canterbury?”

“I'm his special favorite. Are you hungry? I'm hungry.”

“I haven't got anything in.”

They went into the kitchen and the Doctor started raiding the fridge and cabinets. He and Craig talked as he cooked. “You've got everything I need for an omelette fines herbes, pour deux. So, who's the girl on the fridge?” the Doctor asked.

A photo of Craig and a woman sat next to a postcard with Vincent’s self-portrait.

Elise smiled sadly. She missed Vincent.

“My friend. Sophie,” Craig told him.

“Girlfriend?”

“A friend who is a girl. There's nothing going on.”

“Oh, that's completely normal. Works for me.”

“We met at work about a year ago, at the call center.”

“Oh really, a communications exchange? That could be handy.”

“Firm's going down though. The bosses are using a totally rubbish business model. I know what they should do. I got a plan all worked out. But I'm just a phone drone, I can't go running in saying I know best. Why am I telling you this? I don't even know you.”

“Well, I've got one of those faces. People never stop blurting out their plans while I'm around.”

“Right. Where's your stuff?”

“Oh, don't worry, it'll materialize. If all goes to plan.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Less than twenty minutes later, the omelets were gone and Elise was curled up in the Doctor’s lap.

“Oh, that was incredible. That was absolutely brilliant. Where did you learn to cook?” Craig asked.

“Paris, in the eighteenth century. No, hang on, that's not recent, is it? Seventeenth? No, no, no. Twentieth. Sorry, I'm not used to doing them in the right order.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit weird?”

“They never really stop. Ever been to Paris, Craig?”

“Nah. I can't see the point of Paris. I'm not much of a traveler.”

“I can tell from your sofa.”

“My sofa?”

“You're starting to look like it.”

“Thanks, mate, that's lovely. No, I like it here. I'd miss it, I'd miss…”

“Those keys.”

“What?”

“You're sort of fondling them.”

“I'm holding them.” Craig dropped them and got up.

“Right.”

“Anyway. These, these are your keys.” He picked up a key ring and held them out.

The Doctor got up with Elise in his arms. “We can stay?”

“Yeah, you're weird and you can cook and your daughter doesn’t scream her head off. It's good enough for me. Right.” Craig went through the keys. “Outdoor, front door, your door.”

“My door. My place. My gaff. Ha ha! Yes. Me with a key.”

“And listen, Mark and I, we had an arrangement where if you ever need me out of your hair, just give me a shout, okay?” Craig winked and the Doctor winked back, not understand the cue.

“Why would I want that?” the Doctor asked.

“In case you want to bring someone round. A girlfriend or, a boyfriend? Elise’s mother maybe?”

“Oh, Elise’s mother and I aren’t together, but I will. I'll shout if that happens. Yes. Something like, I was not expecting this! By the way, that. The rot. I've got the strangest feeling we shouldn't touch it.” He patted Craig on the shoulder and left the living room to put Elise to bed. He laid her down on the bed and covered her with the blanket.

Elise was out the moment her head hit the pillow. She slept more than the average Timelord, but maybe it was because she was so young.

He hoped she wouldn’t wake up while he was gone. He had some shopping to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, Elise woke up and sat up in the bed. She panicked for a moment before she remembered where she was.

At the foot of the bed was a small backpack (covered in a galaxy pattern of course) with a note on it.

“To: Ellie. From: Dad.”

She looked in it and found new clothes. There was also a sketchbook and some colored pencils. Elise got dressed, emptied the backpack except for the art supplies, and made her way into the living room to wait for the Doctor. She walked past the bathroom where Craig was waiting outside the door.

The Doctor was singing very loudly.

Craig knocked on the door. “Doctor.”

“Hello?”

“How long are you going to be in there?”

“Oh, sorry. I like a good soak.”

A loud banging noise came from upstairs.

“What the hell was that?” Craig asked.

“What did you say?” the Doctor asked him.

“I'm just going to go upstairs. See if he's okay.”

“Sorry?” Craig left the flat.

“What did you say?” the Doctor asked, “Craig?”

Elise heard a loud thumping sound come from the bathroom and she rolled her eyes.

The Doctor came running out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and Elise followed after him.

The two of them met Craig near the stairs.

Elise rolled her eyes again when she saw the Doctor holding an electric toothbrush instead of his sonic screwdriver.

“What happened, what's going on?” the Doctor asked.

“Is that my toothbrush?” Craig asked him.

“Correct. You spoke to the man upstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he look like?”

“More normal than you do at the moment, mate. What are you doing?”

“I thought you might be in trouble.”

Craig laughed. “Thanks. Well, if I ever am, you can come and save me with my toothbrush.”

A phone started ringing inside the flat.

Craig pushed past the Doctor to go and answer it.

The Doctor started to go upstairs as a blonde woman came in the front door.

“Oh! Hello,” she said, looking at the half-naked man and small child before her.

The Doctor came back down the stairs. “Ah! Hello. The Doctor.”

“Right.”

“You must be Sophie.”

The Doctor air kissed her cheeks like he had done with Craig.

Sophie looked at Elise. “And who might you be?” she asked.

“This is Elise. My daughter”. The Doctor softly smiled at her as he lovingly ran a hand over her hair.

“Daughter? Oh”.

The three of them went into the flat where Craig was talking to someone on the phone.

“No, Dom's in Malta. There's nobody around. Hang on a sec.” Craig walked up to the Doctor. “We've got a match today, pub league. We're one down if you fancy it?”

“Pub league. A drinking competition?”

“No, football. Play football.”

“Football. Football. Yes, blokes play football. I'm good at football, I think.”

“You've saved my life. I've got somebody. Yeah, all right, I'll see you down there. Hey, Soph.”

“Hey, I thought I'd come early and meet your new flat mate.”

The Doctor walked over to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk. He looked down at Elise. “Are you hungry?” he asked her.

Elise shook her head.

“Do you play, Sophie?” the Doctor asked.

“No, Soph just stands on the sidelines. She's my mascot,” Craig said as the Doctor took a drink of the milk straight from the container.

If Amy were here, or if Elise were older, she would have smacked him for being so rude.

“I'm your mascot? Mascot?” Sophie asked, offended.

“Well, yeah, not my mascot. It's a football match. I can't take a date.”

“I didn't say I was your date.”

“Neither did I.”

There was an awkward pause, before the Doctor broke the silence. “Better get dressed.” He handed Craig his toothbrush back.

“The spare kit's just in the bottom drawer,” Craig told him.

The Doctor nodded. “Bit of a mess,” he said before slamming the door in Craig’s face.

The two adults looked down at the small child.

Elise went over to a chair and sat down while Sophie and Craig talked quietly. Elise wasn’t listening to their conversation anyway.

Humans were so odd sometimes.

[rhubarbplants]

Renegades AU where the Anarchists won the battle for Gatlon.

What did you get the girl who had everything, for her birthday? Adrian asked himself. She was her uncles second in command and could have literally anything she asked for. She wasn’t spoiled of course, and she had been through so much, she deserved so much. To top it all off she had given him practically everything he had, his apartment, his asylum from any gangs that might come knocking on the door. Adrian looked at his homemade watch, which had an awkward rift where his marker had run out of ink. He had 16 minutes to get to the café. The whole trip was a blur of passing people who didn’t matter. When he came to a stop near the cafe doors he looked around for Nova. Where was she? He thought, hands on his knees, practically wheezing. At first it seemed like she wasn’t there, then he spotted a girl in a dark blue hoodie, it wasn’t her villain uniform but it still covered her face enough so that passers by wouldn’t recognize her. She had her fair share of fans and haters, what was worse, everyone expected Adrian to be the latter. He slid into the chair next to Nova and peered under the hood.

“Is that you?” He asked.

“Hi Adrian” she said pushing her hood back ever so slightly.

“How was last night?”

“Utterly and completely boring.” Nova groaned, sinking lower onto her elbows “Its times like this where I miss being a regular Anarchist. All the board ever does is talk about politics which I suppose is their job, but they’re doing well now, they don’t need me to supervise them anymore. They are ready to take over as a government separate from the Anarchists.”

“Why don’t you ask your uncle then?” Adrian said.

“He won’t listen.” Nova said.

“Are you sure, he always seems to listen to you.”

“Not about this, and, there are tons of things he doesn’t agree with me about, like us.”

“Have you even asked him?”

“Your mom was Lady Indomitable.” Nova said “there is no way he’ll accept you.” Adrian reached his hand across the table to Nova’s and they sat there simply holding hands. Adrian knew this was something Nova appreciated, since most people avoided touching her at all costs even something as simple as hand holding made her feel loved. For Adrian it was a similar sensation to riding a roller coaster, thrilling, and imminently dangerous, but oh so safe and wonderful.

“Your birthday’s coming up isn’t it?” Adrian asked knowing full well it was.

“Yeah, my uncle gave me the day off, but I’ll probably work anyway, I need to keep busy.” Nova said with a frown “you know you don’t have to get me anything right.”

“I know.” Adrian lied. A waitress passed by their table and set down two coffees to go, Nova lifted her hood ever so slight to ask for the check. The waitress graciously accepted and turned to leave, then she froze, gasped and hurried away. Nova sighed

“Will this ever end?” She sank her head down and rested her chin on the glass table, covering her head with her hands.

“People have prejudices, if they knew you then they wouldn’t judge.”

“But they aren’t wrong, I’m an Anarchist, I have killed people.”

“Not many.”

“Yeah, and that's not exactly something to brag about, around the Anarchists.”

“After the amount of deaths you’ve witnessed, they can hardly blame you for not wanting to inflict that.”

“But they do, they don’t understand mourning, just revenge.” Said Nova still burying her face in her sleeves. The waitress returned and swiftly set the bill down on the table before scurrying off once again. Nova sighed and fished some money out of her pocket, this time being sure to keep her hood low on her face as she did so. Then the couple picked up their drinks and left. They usually only went one of two places when they were together, the park, or Adrian’s flat. Today they were headed to the park. But they didn’t go to the part of this park that everyone else did, instead they went off the trail into a secluded garden practically overgrown with all sorts of plants. English ivy, morning glory, and hydrangeas. And then there was the statue. Her hands cupped and hood pulled up just like Nova’s. Actually they looked pretty comical standing next to each other. Adrian reached for nova’s hood, pushing it off her head.

“That’s better.” He said, resting his hand on her cheek “I hardly got to see your face earlier.” Nova was smirking now.

“It was the hood or a mob of angry people trying to run us out of the cafe.” She said

“I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.” Adrian said.

“What would your friends think if they found out that you were dating an Anarchist?” Nova asked.

“I don’t care.” Adrian said

“Well you should, and what happens when my uncle finds out? he’ll kill you.”

“If he actually cares about you he won’t, I think you’re making this out to be a bigger issue than it is.”

“I know, but I can’t lose you.”

“Ok, then I’m fine for things to stay as they are, I don’t need anything more than you.”

“Thank you” Nova said squeezing Adrians other hand. They sat together enjoying each other’s company.

“How’s Max?” Nova asked, Adrian sighed, he and Max had been taken care of by the captain and the dread warden, but it had only lasted for a few months and they had never had the chance to adopt the two boys, now they were effectively both orphans, Max was kept under tight security at a hospital. While they told people it was for Max’s own safety, most everyone knew Ace Anarchy liked to have the young boy where he could keep his eyes on him.

“He’s doing fine I guess, he’s feeling guilty after the incident with Danna, but they’ve been spending some quality time together recently.”

“We should go visit him again, it’s nice having someone I can be myself around, plus I’ve gotten good at disabling the cameras. I can’t believe he figured it out, he should be a detective or something.”

“I would like that.” Adrian looked into those fantastic blue eyes, a paradoxical combination of light and shattered darkness. He planted a light kiss on her lips and she smiled. He loved these moments, when it was just them and they had nothing to hide, nothing to fear. Together they sat at the base of the statue and just enjoyed each other’s company until the sun began to set.

“I have to go” nova said as she stood up, shifting her hood back over her face,

“See you.” Adrian replied as she walked away. He turned in the other direction. His house was about a block away from the cathedral and most people thought he was insane for living there, but it wasn’t all that dangerous, and he liked being close to Nova. When he arrived oscar and Ruby were sitting on the couch, which wasn’t too stange. He had given them both keys for emergencies and now they just broke into his house to hang out.

“Hey.” Oscar said, from his perch on the armrest of the couch. Ruby had a more reasonable seating arrangement and was leaned forward completely immersed in the video game. “Where were you?” He asked “doesn’t your shift at the studio end at 2:30?”

“Yeah it does.” Adrian said blushing

“Who is it?” Ruby said jumping up from her seat, she must have a sixth sense or something.

“It’s no one, really.” Adrian said, Ruby gave him a ‘I’m not that dumb you idiot’ glare.

“Sure sure.” She said, giving oscar a sideways look.

“How about you guys start dinner, I need some space.” Adrian headed to his room, most of the furniture was stuff he had drawn or painted and so tended to be simple and sort of small but he liked it. He took his sketchbook from his bedside table and got to work, he was sketching out jewelry. A simple necklace with a gold N and a little star. Maybe a bracelet? no she already had one. Jewelry was a stupid idea anyway, she had everything, and anything she didn’t have she could easily get. His thoughts started to wander and with them the purpose of his drawings, he began to draw a place he remembered going with his mom, out in the woods, and forest. The scenery was so peaceful and different from this city. He focused in on every penciled detail, each shadow, each illumination. Then he heard a knock. He jumped up and rushed to the door, slowly and carefully he squweaked the door open and peered out. It was Nova, and she was crying. Adrian opened the door all the way and pulled Nova inside, hugging her tight.

“What happened?” Adrian asked.

“We had a mission.” She sobbed “We we’re dealing with a gang on the north eastern ward, and” she took a shaky breath “I shot, one of the gang members, not in the foot or legs, Adrian I killed him, he was barely twenty and I killed him.” She was crying into Adrian’s shirt, burying her face in his shoulder, as if forcing out the images.

“Nova don’t blame yourself, what was he doing?”

“Pointing a gun at a group of hostages.” Nova said.

“So, you saved all those people.” Adrian said.

“But there had to have been a better way to do it.” Said Nova.

“Hey, Adrian!” Ruby shouted “who is it?”

“Ummmm I should leave.” Nova said. She turned but Adrian grabbed her arm,

“just try, I promise they won’t freak out.”

“Yes they will, to them, I’m a villain,” nova said, though she let Adrian pull her back into an embrace. “What happens when they hate me?” She murmured.

“We can cross that bridge if we come to it.” Adrian said, Nova pulled away, and took his hands in hers.

“Adrian, What’s going on?” Oscar and Ruby stuck their heads into the living room. Nova turned her head towards the two and everyone froze.

“Adrian,” Ruby said cautiously “I do hope you know who that is.”

“I am aware of my girlfriend’s identity, yes.”

“Your girlfriend?” Ruby exclaimed, “you’re dating an Anarchist? And Nightmare no less, Nova Ar-ti-no!” She broke down the syllables as if she was teaching a two year old a new word.

“Yes get over it.” Said Adrian, with a glare.

“Can everyone just calm down?” Nova shouted. Everyone stared at herm once again, she looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone. “Clearly this didn’t go the way you hoped Adrian, and I can tell I’m not wanted here,” she turned to Oscar and Ruby, “But just to be clear, if either of you leak a word of this and my uncle finds out, both of you will regret it.” And she stormed out the door.

“Her uncle doesn’t already know?” Oscar asked.

“No” Adrian said, his fingers massaging his temples “and she’s scared that if he finds out that he might try to kill me.”

“When were you going to tell us you were dating the most feared villain in all of Gatlon city?” Ruby asked.

“I wanted to, but we both knew people wouldn’t react well to us.”

“Well she can’t be that bad, I mean, Adrian has good judgement.” Oscar said to Ruby.

“I do, and she is nice, if you would just give her a chance.”

They left the subject alone after that, and while the rest of the evening was awkward, Adrian was glad he didn’t have to hide as much. After dinner he headed to his room and prepared Nova’s birthday present. It was perfect.

The next day Adrian awoke at 6 am sharp, energetic and ready to start the day. He began to draw and paint and prepare anything he might need, by one in the afternoon he was ready. He and Nova had decided to meet at the bus stop, three blocks from Adrian’s flat, so Adrian packed up his stuff and got going. He must have looked a bit strange with the giant duffle bags, but he didn’t really care. When he got to the bus stop Nova was there already, no hood in sight, this was Anarchists territory, she didn’t need to hide.

“What are those for?” Nova asked, an eyebrow arched.

“I thought we could go camping for your birthday.” Adrian said meekly. Nova surprised him by giving him a big hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered “No one has ever done something like this for me.” When the bus arrived, they both got on and stayed on for more than an hour until they finally got off at the last stop. Nova had contacted her uncle giving him a vague reason for her absence. By the time they had set up camp it was about 6 pm. The sun was just starting to set, illuminating the world in a crisp golden light. They sat together warming themselves by the fire and staring up at the stars. So separate from politics, from villains, from heroes, from secrets and all of their problems. Nova closed her eyes and Adrian did too, his over Nova’s shoulder. For a few minutes they sat in peace, then Adrian realized that Nova was fidgeting jerkily, as if she was having a nightmare, a moment later her eyes snapped open and she cried out

“No!” Then everything faded to black.

When Adrian came to the first thing he realized was that it was late, the sky was black and the noise from other campsites had faded. Next he saw Nova leaning over him and smiling, a wet towel pressed to his forehead.

“Sorry about that.” She said,

“I thought the flashbacks had gotten better.” Adrian said quizzically. Nova took in a deep breath,

“So did I, but after a few moments it came back and…” she shuddered, her whole body quaking from the terrifying memory, “then I reached the part where I put the hitman to sleep, I accidentally tranquilized you.” She said sheepishly. Adrian reached a hand up to her cheek but Nova tensed up and pushed it down, by his wrist which was cover by his jacket sleeve. She couldn’t even bring herself to touch him.

“I trust you Nova.” He said slipping his hand in hers. “Always and implicitly.”

“I love you Adrian.” She said resting her forehead on his, breathing in the late night air and feeling herself relax against him. “Always and implicitly.”

[lean-mean-sam-and-dean]

Imagine Dean Finding Your Sketchbook...

Word Count: Around 2500

Warnings: None other than fluff :)

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This one really ran away from me, it was supposed to be kind of short…but enjoy! Maybe this will appease y’all while I work on the new part of Through the Flames! 

***This fic is pretty thrown together, I just wanted to give you guys something since it takes me such a long ass time to update

Summary: The reader has a sketchbook full of drawings of Dean. After a hunt, to the reader’s horror and embarrassment, she finds Dean with his nose in her sketchbook.

There was never much privacy in your life with the Winchesters. Every time you turned around one of them was always right there. On most days, that wasn’t a bad thing- especially on hunts. You knew they’d always have your back, that you were never alone. It was comforting really, comforting on those days that you needed someone when everything seemed to go wrong. Sam always had kind words of advice and assurance and Dean wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. You couldn’t help but love the fact that they were always there.

You also couldn’t help but hate the fact that they were always there. You’d started to develop a kind of sixth sense whenever one of them was nearby, you could just feel them lurking. It was more of Dean than anything, Sam knew enough to let you be.

Dean loved to hover. You decided that this was because he was such a mother hen, but you eventually came to another conclusion. Dean Winchester was sometimes too curious for your liking. You figured that at some point he’d learn his lesson because, as you had pointed out to him more than once- curiosity killed the cat.

As annoying as it could be at times, he wasn’t hurting anyone when he would lean over your shoulder to see what you were watching on Sam’s laptop. The one time he had followed you to yoga class to see where you’d been disappearing to all week wasn’t even that big of a deal either. Despite the fact that he could have just asked you, you dropped it and let him go with nothing more than a whack with your yoga mat.

There was only one thing you would not tolerate Dean Winchester getting his hands on- your sketchbook. You’d never had a diary or anything else of that sort but you’d treated the sketchbook just the same. You’d only shown Sam a drawing or two and that was the only exposure it had ever gotten. You shared most of everything you had with the boys but this was the one thing you kept to yourself.

It wasn’t because you thought you were a terrible artist, it wasn’t because you had drawn anything x-rated, as Dean had once suggested when you refused to let him see it. It was because it was filled with pictures of Dean. Sam had been featured once or twice but Dean dominated most of the pages. You hadn’t told him about it, not only because you were sure his ego would explode, but because you’d be mortified it he ever saw them. Sure, they were all innocent sketches, but something about Dean finding your sketchbook full of pictures of him was utterly horrifying.

The only thing worse than Dean finding your sketchbook, would be him finding your sketchbooks- plural. There were three of them including the one you were currently working on- all filled front to back with sketches of the older Winchester. To your embarrassment- you’d drawn him so many times you didn’t need to look at him in order to create an impressively accurate portrait of him. He was one of those people that were just fun to draw- not that you’d ever let him know that.

You laid long ways in the backseat of the Impala, listening to her purr as you worked on your most recent piece. There were only a last few touches needed and you smiled as you darkened the pencil lines of his jeans, following the length of his bow legs.

The three of you had just finished clearing a vampire nest and the boys were more than ready to get the motel and shower. If you were being honest, you were too. Between the three of you, you were covered in the most blood. Dean had even made you sit on an old blanket while muttering something about you looking like Carrie.

When you were satisfied that the drawing of Dean with a machete in hand was complete, you closed your sketchbook and slipped it into your duffel bag beside you. About a year ago you had started this habit. At some point, during every hunt you had gone on since you had started the sketchbooks, you drew a picture of him. Some were of Dean as he nursed a beer in a small town bar, others of him standing over the gaping mouth a desecrated grave.

Each one served as a memento from each hunt but there was one that held a special place in your heart. In a sleepy county in Montana you had taken pencil to paper and drawn him sitting at a worn picnic table at the county fair. He was smiling, holding three different kinds of deep fried food in his hands and as excited as a little kid. You couldn’t look at it without a huge grin forming.

The car slowed to a halt in front of the motel and you didn’t waste any time snatching up your bag and making your way inside. You quickly found some pajamas to wear after getting cleaned up and made it to the door of the bathroom just as the boys threw their stuff on the beds.

“Aw c’mon!” Dean threw his hands up, “You’re gonna take up all the hot water!”

You snickered, “Sorry Dean-o, you snooze, you lose.” You closed the door before he could say anything else. You knew the boys were just as tired as you were and decided to give them a bit of grace and shower quickly.

Dean threw himself onto the nearest bed with a grunt and your bag bounced off and onto the floor. Dean groaned. “Dammit.” He hauled himself up and strode over to the other side of the bed while Sam busied himself with his laptop.

He leaned down and grabbed your bag but all of its contents dropped onto the floor. “Are you kidding me?” He muttered. Dean was slightly afraid of what he’d find in the pile that had tumbled to the carpet. Who knows what girls packed in their bags? He quickly shoved your clothes back into the bag while trying to avoid anything he didn’t want to see. He was about to return a soft gray sweater to its place when he felt something beneath the fabric. It was stiff and thin and it took all of Dean’s will power not to take a peek. He looked over at Sam who paid no attention to him- probably doing whatever nerds like him do on their computers this late at night.

He really wanted to know what it was, and the more he thought about what it could possibly be, the more curious he became. He knew it was most likely wrapped up for a reason, it was private, and how would he explain as to how he’d found it? This had been in the bottom of your bag and there would be no easy way to tell you he’d been snooping.

Dean decided that what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you- it’s not like he’d be caught anyways, you took long showers. Maybe the sweater wasn’t even meant to hide what was inside, maybe the mystery object had gotten stuck in your clothes when you’d put it in your bag…and then the sleeves of the sweater somehow tied themselves. Before he could lose his courage Dean slipped the object from the fabric and found himself holding a blue sketchbook.

“Since when does she draw?” Sam turned away from his computer screen. “You say something?”

Dean shoved the sketchbook into his shirt and shielded the scene with his body. “What? No! I didn’t say anything. Nope.” Sam squinted in suspicion. “What are you doing?”

Dean shifted nervously as the tips of his ears burned red. “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.” Sam closed his laptop and stood from his chair. “Dean are you…are you hiding something?”

Desperate to escape the situation Dean attempted to turn the accusation back on his little brother. “I’m not- I’m not hiding anything. What- what are you hiding Sammy? I think you’re- you’re hiding something.” He backed up against the bed as Sam quickly approached.

Sam’s eyes widened as he stopped in his tracks. “Oh my god, Dean! Were you going through Y/N’s stuff?” Dean shushed him harshly. “Shut the hell up Sam, she’ll hear you!”

“Good!” Sam retorted. “She’ll know you were being a perv and rifling through her-” He was cut off when Dean clasped his hand over his mouth. “Would you shut up! I knocked her bag off the bed and everything fell out!” Dean removed his hand. “I was putting everything back in when I saw this.” He pulled the sketchbook out of his shirt and waved it in Sam’s face.

The younger brother still hadn’t the slightest idea as to why Dean had the book in his hands. It was yours, it was private. If it felt wrong to have it in his possession, it probably was. “So what? That’s her personal stuff, leave it alone, Dean.”

Dean stood with his mouth agape. “You seriously aren’t curious as to what’s in here?” Sam shifted from foot to foot but didn’t say anything. “That’s what I thought!”

Sam groaned. “I don’t want anything to do with this. Y/N didn’t say you could go through it.”

“But she didn’t say I couldn’t.” Dean reasoned. “Whatever, I’m not going to be in any part of this.” Sam reopened his laptop and sat back down with a scowl.

Dean rolled his eyes and opened the front cover. There wasn’t anything important you could possibly be hiding in a sketchbook. Maybe it was something like John’s journal, documenting new information and drawings of monsters he’d never seen before. So what if he’d seen some doodles you’d made, what was so wrong about him appreciating your art? Why had you hidden-

“Oh,” Was all he could say when he realized that the first drawing was of him. He wore a grin and that bulky winter coat with the big furry hood. Dean remembered this as a moment from a vengeful spirit hunt in Michigan months ago. Dean didn’t know what to say- didn’t know what to do, so he turned the page. Just as it was on the first, two more drawings of himself stared back at him.

He wasn’t even sure how to feel at first. He was so taken aback by the fact that you’d want to draw him of all people he could only stand and gawk at your artwork. Not only did you seem to be quite talented, but you had captured everything that made Dean, Dean. From the soft curve of his jaw to the way he held himself, it was all beautifully displayed upon the page.

“Woah.” Dean turned to find his brother looking over his shoulder. Evidently his curiosity had gotten the better of him too. “Yeah, woah is right.” Dean breathed. He flipped page after page, all of them filled with drawings of him, all from different hunts.

“Did you know she was doing this?” Sam shook his head. “I mean, she’s shown me a few sketches but not this. This is…these are amaz-”

“Oh my god.”

The brothers turned to see you in the doorway of the bathroom, face flushed red as you stared at them with wide eyes. “Where did you get that?” Dean guiltily closed the sketchbook and Sam chuckled nervously.

There was an awkward moment of silence until Dean cleared his throat. “I- um I accidentally knocked your bag off of the bed and this,” He held up the book, “fell out.”

You crossed the room in about three steps and plucked it from his hand. “That was private, Dean.” You said quietly, shoving it back in your bag. “It was wrapped up in one of my shirts, I know for a fact it didn’t just ‘fall out’.”

Sam looked to Dean and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen his brother untangle the book from the sweater earlier. Dean let out a breath. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry I just-”

“Just what Dean?” You turned on him with a glare. “You just thought that because I wasn’t there you could go through my stuff?”

“You’re right I shouldn’t have done that, but Y/N-”

You cut him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I think I’m gonna sleep in the car tonight.” Dean caught your arm as you pushed past him. “Why are you so upset that I saw your drawings?”

You looked at him like he had grown a second head. “Are you serious?” Sam snatched up his own belongings and headed as fast as he could towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower.” There was no way in hell he was staying for that conversation.

“Because I’m humiliated Dean! You saw everything that was in there!”

“So what!”

“So every single one of them was of you! Going through that sketchbook is like going through my diary!”

It was quiet again and the only thing Dean could feel was shame. You shook your head and opened the door. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“They’re really good you know.”

You stopped in the doorway. What did he just say? Did he just compliment you? He didn’t just tell you that it was creepy that you had an entire sketchbook filled with pictures of him?

“What?”

Dean smiled and fidgeted with his hands. “I said, they’re good. Like really good.” You slowly closed the door. “You- you don’t think it’s weird? I mean I never asked to draw you-”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Dean took a step towards you. “I think they’re amazing.” Another step. Your chest tightened. “I think you’re talented.” Another step. He was now so close his breath stirred the hairs framing your face.

Dean tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I think you’re beautiful.” He said quietly. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes traveled down to your lips. He looked back up to you as if asking for permission, you gave a slight nod. Dean cupped your face in hands and pressed his lips to yours. Your heart about exploded in your chest. He smelled like blood and sweat but you didn’t care- you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and deepened the kiss.

“I thought it would scare you off.” You murmured as you parted, resting your forehead against Dean’s.

Dean chuckled and you felt the rumble from his chest against yours. “Are you kidding? I’ve held a torch for you for years. A few drawings aren’t going to scare me off, sweetheart.”

You leaned back to get a good look at him. “Really?” Dean grinned. “Really.”

Suddenly the mood changed as he wiggled his eyebrows. “And you know, if you ever need a nude model…” You slapped his arm as he laughed. “You ruined the moment, you idiot!”

He placed a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezed you in his arms. “But I’m your idiot now, right?”

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around his middle, “You’re my idiot.”

Tags: @hasta-impalasta  @torn-and-frayed  @ilostmyshoe-79  @faith-in-dean @bringmesomepie56  @deanssweetheart23  @impala-dreamer @luci-in-trenchcoats @curliesallovertheplace  @chaos-and-the-calm67 @ravengirl94 @lipstickandwhiskey @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @effie-w

[thank-you-for-the-vampire-money]

MY MUSE

Request N/A: but the fic was based off this post HERE

A/N: Thank you @just-another-terrible-writer for letting me use this idea!

Steve x reader

Word count: 1599 (so close)

Summary: Picking up his old hobby of drawing, Steve finds himself uninspired.  That is, until (Y/N) gives him a few ideas.

Warnings: N/A

(GIF not mine)

“Hey, Steve!  Check this out!” you called, crawling through the hoards and piles of junk lying on the floor.  Spring cleaning in Stark Tower was always a pain; everyone had so much stuff!  Except for Natasha and Vision, they were both pretty tidy.

Every April, for about a week, the tower was cluttered full of everyone’s assorted piles of junk, each one labeled: ‘Clint’s keep’ ‘Wanda’s toss’ ‘Bruce’s donate’ etcetera.  Usually, Clint, Thor, and Tony’s piles were the biggest; they were such pack rats!  At least Wanda, Bruce, and Bucky were somewhat clean.  As for Steve, he was smart and decided to rent a storage space for a lot of his things, so his room was pretty tidy most of the time. Whatever he kept in the tower was either to help Bucky regain his memory or because he was actually using it. But, every now and again, he’d have some cool, forgotten treasure buried underneath his possessions, like what you just found!

 “Steve, look!  It’s your old art supplies!” you chanted, struggling to carry the armfuls of stuff you found all at once.  Steve took his attention away from his photo bin to look at you, “hey!  I haven’t seen all this in years!” he gasped, taking one of the old sketchpads out of our arms.

The pile was very diverse.  There were old things, obviously from the 30s and/or 40s, and there were newer things Steve probably received right after coming out of the ice.  There were paints, pencils, paper, pens, pastels, charcoals, canvas, there were even some crayons in there.  “You’ve got quite a collection here,” you mused, setting all the stuff on the only clear surface available.  Steve sifted through the supplies, looking at all the stuff he had gathered over time, “where did you find all this?” he asked, flipping through a half-full notepad, “in your closet, underneath your bin full of books,” you answered, picking up an old paint set.

A thousand memories flashed through Steve’s head. He remembered art being his favorite hobby back in the old days, back when he was too sickly to do much else. “Guess with all the ‘avenging’ I’ve been doing I forgot about all this stuff,” Steve figured, taking all the stuff in his arms and placing in his ‘keep’ pile.  “I’ll have to pick this hobby up again after my room is clean,” he smiled, continuing to sort through his and Bucky’s stuff.

 The week of Spring cleaning was over and the piles of stuff were gone.  The only thing left were the crumbs, leaves, and dead bugs left on the floor from all the ‘toss’ piles.  But, of course, Tony had an automated machine to vacuum for him, so, no one was doing the work by hand.

Just like he said, Steve picked up his pencils and brushes and began his artistic escapades again.  He was a bit rusty, but, with the modern miracle of YouTube tutorials, Steve quickly regained his fantastic creative abilities.  Though, he was having a bit of trouble finding inspiration to fuel his creativity.

He sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the blank page in his sketchbook with a freshly sharpened pencil in hand.  He would occasionally lift his feet so the little vacuum-bot could clean under his feet, but for the most part, he just sat there, hoping his artist's block would go away.

“Having some trouble, capsicle?” Tony teased, playfully punching Steve’s shoulder.  Steve didn’t even roll his eyes, he just continued to stare at his empty paper. “Wow, you’re really stuck, aren’t ya?” Tony observed, leaning over Steve’s shoulder to look at the blank page, “yeah.  I want to draw something, I want to get back that creative flow,” Steve ranted, “I just can’t think of anything to draw!”.  Tony thought for a moment.  He wasn’t into this whole artsy stuff, but he still wanted to help.

“You want something to draw, eh?” Tony smirked, “I dare you to draw the next person who walks into this room,”.  Tony assumed he could just walk out then walk back in and get Steve to draw him.  Not the most clever a plans, but, it got Tony what he wanted.

“Nice try Tony, but you’re not just going to walk out then walk….” Steve trailed off when he saw your figure walk through the door over to the stereo, “... back in…”.  Tony followed Steve’s puzzled gaze over to where you were standing.  “Well, there ya go, that’s what you’re drawing,” he sighed, strolling out of the room.  Just then, a lightbulb popped up above Steve’s head, “yeah… that’s what I’m drawing…”.

 It was pretty weird, always having Steve around. You didn’t know why, but Steve was always in the same room as you, drawing.  He didn’t initiate conversation much, and if he did he never lifted his gaze from his sketchbook.  Maybe you were just overthinking it, it was probably just a coincidence… that happened over and over… and over…

You walked into the kitchen to grab some lunch, when, of course, there he was.  Steve was sitting at the breakfast bar, surrounded by the new Copic markers Nat gave him.  What was he doing?

“Whatcha drawin’ Steve?” you asked casually, munching on a turkey wrap as you walked over to the counter where Steve sat.  As soon as you leaned over to look at his sketchbook, Steve curled his arms around it, covering his drawing so you couldn’t see it.  “No! You can’t see it!” he ordered, continuing to draw in the dim light and confined space of his arms.  You pouted a little.  “Why not?  Every time I see you your nose is stuck in that book, so I might as well see what you’re working on,” you demanded, taking another bite of your lunch, “no, (Y/N), you can’t see it,” he responded frankly.

Closing his sketchbook and gathering up his markers, Steve left the kitchen to go to his room.  You rolled your eyes, “rude,”.  Tony sat at the dinner table snickering at you, “what?” you asked.

 It was dinner time and Steve wasn’t responding to JARVIS’s calls, so Tony sent you to get Steve out of his room.  “Steve?” you asked, knocking on his door.  No answer.  You knocked again.  “Steve? Dinner’s ready,”.  Still no answer.  “We made your favorite; mashed potatoes and gravy,”.  Not even a peep.  Rolling your eyes, you entered Steve’s room.  He wasn’t there.

You looked around his room, noticing how quaint and homey it was.  There were old photos and propaganda posters framed and hung on the wall, there was antique furniture everywhere, there was even a picture of him and Peggy taken from an old newspaper article hanging above his bed.  But, what really caught your eye, was all the papers spread out on Steve’s bed.  Every art supply you could imagine sat on Steve's bed, covering every inch of the comforter.  Except for a small spot for Steve to sit in.

You jogged over skimmed through all the drawings, looking for an unfinished or recent one that might be the one Steve was working on earlier.  There were a lot of pictures, all of them very pretty.  There were drawings of the New York skyline, there were some of the lake in the park, there were a bunch of drawings of the Avengers and a few S.H.I.E.L.D agents.  But what you noticed were the copious number of portraits… of you.

There was one done in every medium, from every angle, and tons of poses.  You saw one of you sitting on the couch listening to music through your headphones. Another one was of you having, what you thought, was a private dance party in your room.  And, you found what you were looking for; an incomplete portrait of you, laughing and smiling.

“You found them…” a voice called from behind you. The voice startled you, and as instinct, you whipped around to see who was there.  Kill surprise, it was Steve.  “What are you doing here?” you asked, miffed that Steve scared you. Steve looked at you as if you were crazy.  “This is my room, what are you doing here?” he responded, placing his bottle of water on the nightstand.  ‘snooping’ “Nat told me to tell you that dinner was ready…” you said, holding your hands behind your back to look innocent.

Steve started scooping up all his papers into his arms before placing them in a portfolio by the window.

“Go ahead, say it,”

“What?”

“Say it.  I’m creepy.  No normal person does this: draw someone they’re not even dating.  Especially not as often as I have,”.

He was so sweet.  “But, they do draw people they love as often as you do,” you responded, walking up to him and cupping his cheek.  Steve was a bit startled by your actions, but he didn’t pull away. “Steve, what you did was sweet. Now if you were a stranger on the bus, that would be creepy,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek as a ‘thank you’, “but you’re not, you’re a good friend… and, if you want, more than that,”.

A bright, dorky smiled, formed on Steve’s lips as your words registered in his head.  “Are you asking me out?” he smirked, placing his hands over yours, kissing your palm, “well, (Y/N), I’d love to go out sometime,”.  Now it was your turn to show a bright, dorky smile, “dinner and a movie?  Tomorrow night at eight?  My treat,” you offered.  Steve chuckled, pecking you on the lips softly, “sounds perfect to me,”.

TAGLIST:

@bitchy-tacos @paranoid-borderline-insane @buckyshattergirl