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willow-salix · 4 years ago

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F, Y and Z please from the writer ask list

You're getting me back for mine, aren't you? Lol

F- How long have you been writing fan fiction? Since around 2009, I wrote one mega fic which was around 60k long and was a complete book re-write of a true blood book. Then role play fan fiction for years until I got brave enough (or stupid enough) to do TAG.

Y- What is your favourite genre to write?

Paranormal romantic comedy is my genre. Mostly funny fluff with a dash of angst sprinkled in now and then to shock people into remembering that I can be serious now and then.

I guess for me writing is escapism so I like it to be mostly happy so I'm happy writing it. I tend to take on my characters feelings while writing it and writing too much drama and whump can make me depressed and it's harder for me to write, I get bogged down. The whumpy, emotional chapters are the hardest for me and take longer because I have to pace myself and do then bit by bit so I don't get too sad or low.

Z: Post an excerpt from your first fic or your last. Well you've just read my last, so let's see if I can dig out any of my first... Its gonna be awful...

OK, backstory of the book is that some witches came to cause trouble and put a spell on the local head vampire, Eric. In the original book it was Sookie that found him, but obviously I changed it so that a witch could be involved, that and I totally love Eric (I obviously have a bit of a thing for blondes that I didn't realise). This is from chapter 4, it's first person, I hate it, but I think we can kinda see where Selene got her sarcasm.

I was driving along at a good pace when a new song came on the stereo, I smiled as it was one of my favourites ‘Somebody’s out there’ by Triumph. I was singing along when my eyes caught a flash of movement in the distance.

I slowed the car down a little and looked more closely, waiting for the animal or whatever it was, to jump out into the road in front of me.

What I didn’t expect to see was the sight of a half naked, very tall man, running like crazy down the side of the road. I stopped the car as quickly as possible and jumped out.

I called out to the running figure, noting that he had long blonde hair and was very pale.

‘Hey there mate, are you ok?’ He whirled around and faced me, standing in a crouched position. He had huge white fangs glistening in the moonlight. I gasped in shock. It was Eric.

‘Hey Eric, calm down sweetie, it’s just me. It’s Tansi.’

I opened myself up and tried to feel what he was thinking. I was shocked to pick up confusion, fright and nervousness. Why the hell was Eric scared of me?

‘Are you ok darling?’ I took a step closer to him with my hand outstretched to him.

He seemed to think for a second and then stood up out of the crouch; his fangs withdrew a little but not quite.

‘Do I know you?’ He asked quietly.

‘Of course you know me, you doughnut.’

‘Who am I?’ Oh Goddess I though, is he for real? Does he not know me? Did that explain the confusion?

‘Eric, sweetie, what happened to you?’ I stepped closer still and he didn’t move away this time.

‘Who is Eric?’

Oh lordi, what was going on?

I was shivering in the cold and realised that Eric must be colder than I was; he wasn’t wearing a shirt or coat and didn’t appear to have any shoes either.

I sighed making up my mind in that one instant; I would have to take him home with me.

‘Come on babe, you are coming home with me, I can’t leave you out here on your own, you’ll freeze and you don’t seem to know who you are, let alone how to get back home’. I closed the distance between us and took his hand, he gripped my hand like it was a lifeline and allowed me to lead him to my car.

His hand was very cold and he had goose bumps on his arms and chest, his nipples were very erect and seemed to be watching me. I shook my head to clear my, slightly naughty, thoughts and took off my cape and draped it around his shoulders and wrapped it around him as close as possible. It was way too small on him but would do.

I got him in the car and did up his belt. He looked me straight in the eyes.

‘Do I really know you, do you really know me?’ He looked so lost, the

poor lamb. I impulsively gave him a half hug as I finished doing up his seatbelt.

‘Yes I really know you, and you really know me’. I shut his door and went round to my side and started the car. While I was getting myself sorted out he was staring at me very intently.

‘Did you call me Eric?’

‘Yes that’s your name’

‘And yours was Tansi?’ He frowned a little at the strange sound of my name.

‘Yes Tansi, its short for Tanzanite’.

‘It is a very beautiful and unusual name’. He gave me a small smile, so

I gave him a very big one in return.

‘Well Thank you, I don’t like it much, but it can grow on you’.

We drove in silence for a bit longer before I gave into my curiosity.

‘Eric, what were you doing out here, and why don’t you remember me?’

Eric seemed to shrink into the seat a little.

‘I don’t know, I don’t even know who I am’. Oh shit, I thought, this is very bad indeed.

‘Well try not to worry too much babe, I’ll look after you’. We were pulling up to my house now. I parked and came round to open his door. I held out my hand and was relieved when, after a moment’s hesitation, he put his hand in mine. I curled my fingers around his and gave a little pull to get him out of the car. I kept his hand in mine as I lead him into my house. He hesitated but I pulled a little more firmly.

‘Come on. Eric, I want you to come in with me and be safe and warm.’

My words had the desired effect and he followed me into my living room.

I flipped on the lights and finally got a good look at him. I didn’t like what I saw. He was wrapped in my too small cloak, and appeared to be only wearing a pair of filthy jeans. His hair was dirty and matted with Goddess knows what. I sighed and held out my hand to him again.

Come with me’ I lead him to my bathroom and started the shower.

‘You get undressed and get in while I get you some towels, I wont be long’ I turned to give him some privacy when he grabbed my hand.

‘Don’t go, stay with me’ Eric looked so lost that I melted.

‘Ok stay there for just a minute I’ll be right back, I promise’ I patted his hand and extracted myself slowly from his death grip on my arm.

Thankfully he let me go.

I ran to my bedroom and grabbed some towels from the linen closet, an old pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt I used as a nightdress and as an after thought, rummaged in my bottom draw for last years bikini, just in case.

I ran back and found him in exactly the same place he was when I had left. I was a little worried at how much he seemed to cheer up when I stepped back into the room.

‘Come on now babe, slip out of those dirty jeans and jump in the shower, I want to get you clean’. I eeped and quickly span round to face the door as he took me literally and dropped his trousers onto the floor.

‘Come in with me’ he pleaded. I sighed.

‘Ok get in and I’ll be right back’. I stepped out the door and quickly shucked my dress and pulled on the bikini. This was not the way I had thought I would be getting Eric in my shower with me, but there was no way

I was going to take advantage of this troubled man in the room behind me.

I stepped back into the bathroom. He was in the shower just standing under the spray, he looked up as I got into the shower behind him. I was pleased to note that he looked a little disappointed that I wasn’t as naked as him.

‘Now no funny stuff’ I warned him as I reached for the soap and began to wash him all over. My fingers seemed to sink into the thick muscles of his back and I had to tell myself very firmly to keep my mind on the job as I fought the urge to lick his back.

He sighed as I worked the soap over his shoulders.

When his back was as clean as it was going to be and I had managed, with a lot of prayers for prizes for good behaviour, to carefully avoid looking at his fabulous butt to closely (a quick glance was all I did, I promise), I turned him around and began to work on his chest. The air left my lungs in one big whoosh as my hands slid over his nipples and down over his stomach. I took my hands away, afraid that I would lose my self control in one feel swoop in about 10 seconds time.

‘You can finish off while I have a wash’ I handed him the soap and turned my back and concentrated on washing off the smell of the bar from my skin. I gave him a few minutes more and then turned round to face him.

I risked a quick glance down and almost felt my knees collapse when I saw just how happy he was to be in the shower with me. My girl pride picked up a notch but I squashed any thoughts of reaching out and feeling just how happy, and grabbed the shampoo from the shelf.

‘Turn around’ I commanded and when he did I reached up and applied a generous amount onto his hair. I rubbed it in gently, taking my time working it through the tangles and getting all the dirt out, until it was squeaky clean.

I helped him rinse the soap out and then set to work on my own. He reached out to help me, but I pushed him gently away. I love having my hair played with and I knew that if he turned those big, sexy hand loose on me, I would never be able to leave him alone, and he would find himself on the floor with a pair of very long legs, attached to one very horny woman, wrapped firmly around his waist. He looked a little put out but allowed me to finish on my own.

I turned off the water and got out, wrapping myself in a big fluffy towel. I handed one to Eric and watched as he wrapped it around his waist, leaving his chest bare, wet and very inviting. I had to take a deep breath. I have a thing about bare, wet men that was not helping my resolve.

I grabbed the clothes I had picked up for him and practically shoved them into his arms.

‘You get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen’ I squeaked out, my voice a little high. I turned away and scuttled out the door to my bedroom to get dressed into the frumpiest pyjamas I owned.

Gahhhhh I cringe! I cringe so much! This is awful, Wills! What have you done? Do you want some crackers with that cheese? Fucks sake.

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thirteenthspirit · 5 years ago

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ESG Investing in the Pokémon World

As a financial advisor (aka professional bank pimp), it seems the concept of “Sustainable Investing” has really taken hold this past year, despite being around for quite a few years. I was pondering new investment ideas and recommendations (so they can sit patiently on my desk waiting for my boss’s approval) and noticed that most of them are ESG-focused. Of course.

As a Millennial (like that means anything), imagining that your investments might go towards helping someone or doing some good for the world is a key motivation. I don’t mind even sacrificing some additional returns, if that means my money is being put to good use. Unfortunately, I don’t really have a lot of like-minded people as Clients, so raw returns still dominate the investment sphere. But we’ll get there!

I want to explain a bit what it is we call ESG – Environmental, Social and (Corporate) Governance Investing. It is a very studied and elaborated research topic that has become so convoluted that virtually any company can be qualified as ESG-passable (sigh). A company with a high ESG score means it Excels in all or one of these three key areas. The ESGest of them all, try to integrate in their daily practices some of the UN’s 17 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), which range from ending world hunger to reducing inequality, climate action, etc.

I’ve also been replaying Pokémon Platinum (ayyy you see where this is going don’t you?) – probably not, since you haven’t read my previous newsletters. But anyway.

Sinnoh could really benefit a lot from some ESG-focused investing, especially in the Environmental aspect of it. The first thing that popped into my mind was the Fuego Ironworks. No, it is not related to the 2018 Eurovision Song Contest runner-up’s song of choice, but rather a big warehouse-like facility harboring a huge furnace in the center of it all. If you manage to get past the arrow-one-direction-thingies leftover from the renovation of the Viridian Gym, you eventually reach this massive incinerator. Ok, so, fossil fuels are a big no-no in the battle for climate change. Hydrogen plants and renewable energies trump coal mines and similar facilities. So I would take that big chunk of investor money and shut down the Fuego Ironworks. I know what you’re thinking – WHERE ELSE AM I GONNA CATCH A POKÉMON WITH FLAME BODY THIS EARLY IN THE GAME so I can hatch that perf Togepi (because what else) – but fret not, those Magmar can relocate to Stark Mountain. But uh… maybe I’d try to throw a couple of Slugma near the Lost Tower or something, so you can still hatch them eggs early on. Need a motherboard-frying Magnemite? You can now catch them in Iron Island! Have fun.

But shutting down a massive energy-producing (assumption here assumption there la la la) facility like this is BOUND to have an effect on the residents, especially for the people who live in the nearby towns – I mean where else are Floaroma residents supposed to work? Smell the flowers in the floaroma medow (which is somehow located DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO THE IRONWORKS but ok)? Serve as night guides to wandering girls and their Chansey in Eterna Forest? Or sweat away in the Valley Windworks?

Huh? Windworks? Like an actual wind power farm? Grab ‘em Pachirisu and let’s go!

Seriously, the Valley Windworks would be exactly where my inflows would go. From any residual money gathered from the sale of the Ironworks, my investors could provide a massive overhaul of the windworks. We could bring specialists in from Hoenn’s Weather Institute and build a ton more Teletubbies (my boyfriend’s endearing nickname for those huge fan-thingies). Maybe we could even expand to hydraulics, what with that huge river flowing alongside the facility. Just imagine the drifloon! One for each doom-bearing child.

Ok great! We’ve managed to take action by remodeling the energy supply from the area, effectively diminishing its carbon emissions while preserving the citizens’ quality of life. For me that qualified as a big E investment! And maybe our work wouldn’t stop here, if you’ve got a few cents in your pocket imagine if we could harness the energy from Mt. Coronet! With cares not to disturb any dimensional beings or pseudo-gods. Just a thought.

Miss Moving On is a song by Fifth Harmony. Next we have the “Social” aspect of ESG investing. This would be the category where you would find the community-improving or demographic and populational aiding aspects. Infrastructures, accessibility, any and every thing that could better a population’s daily routine and ensure its sustainability for generations to come. So which issues plague Sinnoh residents? I can think of a few – weird people with bowl-shaped haircuts stealing Pokémon, people-swallowing marshes, freakin’ SELFDESTRUCTING ROCKS (née Geodude) and the occasional time/space distortions from the odd attempt at creating new universes.

Well let’s not go overboard with our intervention, we cannot hope to solve ALL problems plaguing our beloved residents. Let’s start with a simple issue. Little Timmy loves everything related to boats. Boats boats boats and sometimes ships – so he loves going to Sunyshore City, to see the Lighthouse. He goes whenever he can - he swears one time he even had a date with a girl who was visiting with her Ampharos! Legend has it for him it was love at first sight. But she had a ship to catch, bound for her hometown region. So they agreed to meet that very night, before she departed. She waited and waited, but Timmy never came. With tears in her eyes, the girl was last seen boarding the ship, never to return…

Dang it Timmy! Why did you do that?

Well… the thing is, Timmy tried. Timmy lives in Solaceon town and works for the local newspaper. So on that afternoon, after collecting his heart scales, he cheerfully got on his bike and began pedaling, heading to meet his lover. But there is no direct route from Solaceon to Sunyshore – Solaceon is pretty much isolated where it stands, one has to either go North trough Veilstone or face the marshes of the south through Pastoria, to finally traverse route 222 to the city.

Since a bike would sink pretty hard on the bog, Timmy rode North. He got drenched in rain before reaching Veilstone, though – forcing him to change clothes in the city before carrying on. Oh and he claims to have also had an encounter with a couple of Psyduck which seemed pretty checked out… I assume Misty rammed her bike into one. After leaving the city, he just had to face – I’m sorry, am I reading this correctly, inexistent participant – “hellhounds”. Um… ok… Timmy is a BIG Supernatural fan (Destiel FTW). But he finally made it to the Hotel Grand Lake – the last rest stop before reaching Sunyshore. His legs were already tired, and he was sweatin’ bullets, but his spirits were high as a Staravia!

“I’m sorry sir but Route 222 is closed until further notice, due to the occurrence of a blackout”.

Aaaand that was the end of Timmy’s love story. Don’t feel bad for him, I hear he went on to win a Pulitzer from his work on exposing the Ditto sex trafficking scheme.

Maybe if Timmy had been a little faster on his route, he could’ve avoided the blackout altogether, it is just such a long stretch of Sinnoh to traverse…

Like Timmy, many residents who work in East Sinnoh face this issue in their daily commute – the lack of viable connections. So where could we begin to tackle this subject?

Well I heard of a guy who has been trying to dig a tunnel from Route 2014, to Solaceon Town, all by himself! Must be tough, Excadrill weren’t even invented back then…

Maybe our kind investors could give him a hand with their funds! We could make the efforts go faster and more smoothly, maybe even establish some underground ferry mechanism to aid in the crossover. Create a separate entrance, so people wouldn’t have to disturb the Unown. The newly crafted pathway would sure come in handy for travelers, maybe even helping in dynamizing Solaceon or Celestic Town with tourists staying at the Hotel Grand Lake! Seems like a somewhat simple-enough project for us to tackle.

So we basically identified a necessity, designed a way to overcome said necessity and then implemented it – thus creating sustainable impact!

Fantastic! Stunning!

Speaking of stunning – hrm, our efforts might be a bit derailed if these “blackouts” continue. Maybe someone could go have a chat with Volkner, to stop experimenting with the power grid? Perhaps Flint could help, I hear they get along quite well… Does he even have a license to tinker with the mechanisms? What, imaginary voice? You don’t need one in Sinnoh? So you mean I can just connect my Raichu to a generator and power my entire 12-story building?

That seems… unlawful. Couldn’t we do something to change that? Well, we could write a strong-worded letter to the lawmakers of Sinnoh, urging them to pass legislation on these activities. Maybe even use our leftover funds to raise enough awareness on this issue, so we could enact this change in policy! Wow, that’s what I call putting the G in Governance.

Random segway aside, that is exactly what the last letter in ESG is meant to state – policy, rules, means of internal conduct and culture that an organization runs with. And apart from Volkner’s constant need to reinvent his contraptions, there is a topic on which we can praise Sinnoh – gender equality.

Now, we recognize that we don’t know the details, but let’s assume Gym Leaders are paid equally, as not to have poor shivering Candice earning 70 cents on the poke-dollar, compared to Byron’s wage. 4 female and 4 male gym leaders comprise Sinnoh’s gym challenge. 50/50, nice message to relay. Ok fine, if we only look at the number and don’t analyze much else, we can give Sinnoh a passing grade on this one… what about the Elite Four?

The Elite Four is also comprised of 2 male and 2 female members. Wow, nicely thought out. And Cynthia is given enough screen time to actually be a fleshed out character, even appearing in several generations. She is, after all, in my opinion, the toughest Champion the Player is required to face.

But other generations don’t really follow suit – the list of League Champions or Elite Four members is comprised mostly of men… In these regions perhaps some gender diversity or inclusion metrics could be put in place, starting with getting each of them to affirm their stance and compromise with ending gender inequality in the League Challenge!

For that, I guess we’ll have to take that same ship and sail away to another region, with the sure knowledge that (maybe) we managed to help Sinnoh inch a little closer to a sustainable future!

Your ESG-type Trainer,

-João A. (Pachiren)

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our-smooty · 6 years ago

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Take Me to Church Chapter 9: Whatever You want

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

He was on a ledge, ocean crashing against the rocks below. The never-ending squawking of seagulls rang in his ears and he wished they would just shut up for five minutes so he could think. It was like being on Plastic Beach again, only this time the sea was less foreboding and more welcoming, calling to him.

Murdoc… Murdoc....

It’d be so easy, so easy to take one step forward and fall into the sea, to sink into her depths and end this never-ending squawking, this never-ending feeling. He was named for the sea after all, and he always seemed to come back to it, it was only right that she would end it for him.

With more resolve than he’d felt in years, he took a step forward off the cliff, feeling the gut-punch wretch of gravity pulling him down down down towards those sharp rocks and black waters. Suddenly the sea didn’t look so inviting, and he felt panic course through his veins. This was a mistake he didn’t want—

Murdoc woke up suddenly in a cold sweat, his heart racing. He swore for a second he could still hear the seagulls—was he back on Plastic Beach?—but it turned out to be 2D snoring beside him. What the hell was 2D doing in his bed again; they hadn’t fucked last night, had they? Well, other than the time before dinner. He couldn’t remember so he must have been awfully drunk, and Stu didn’t strike him as they type of guy to take advantage. But then again, you could never really know.

Still, he had his pants on and didn’t feel sticky so the singer must have been there for another reason. Maybe he really had had a nightmare this time and crawled into Murdoc’s bed for comfort? Made about as much sense as anything else.

The adrenaline from the dream was wearing off and Murdoc suddenly realized that he felt like crap. That special type of crap feeling that came only after either a really good night or a bad one. Judging by the fact there was a bucket of vomit beside him and no lovely ladies around, it was probably the latter.

“Urgh,” Murdoc groaned as he tried to sit up. His mouth tasted and felt like a bog and his head ached something fierce, nevermind the fact he was absolutely bursting for a piss. Narrowly avoiding sticking his bare foot in the sick bucket, Murdoc trudged through the room and out to the bathroom.

Thanking Satan it was free he walked in and stood in front of the toilet, not bothering to close the door. With the most pressing matters taken care of, he stopped to brush his teeth and take some paracetamol. He would have loved something a bit stronger, but he remembered 2D had had his panties in a bunch over Murdoc ‘borrowing’ too many pills lately.

He sighed in resignation and stared into the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, saggy skin, and stubble greeted him with all the enthusiasm of a dead skunk.

“Satan, I look like shit, ” he said. Bits and pieces of the night before were coming back to him now in the harsh lighting of the bathroom. He’d intended to watch some TV while 2D was napping, maybe have a few beers, but medical dramas lose their interest when someone you care about’s in the hospital. So he’d tried to watch some of his favourite soap opera The Bad, the Badder, and the Baddest, but of course they’d been airing a special where the main character was in a coma. After that he’d given up on watching TV and had instead doubled down on drinking. One thing had led to another and then… Well, then he didn’t really remember anything except that it had been dark and a little cold.

He was still staring vacantly into the mirror when a loud bang sounded in the hallway. Before he could investigate 2D, dressed only in his pyjamas burst into the washroom looking stressed.

“Oh! Murdoc! You’re in here that’s good,” he exclaimed, looking around the bathroom wildly. Murdoc wasn’t impressed.

“What the bloody hell are you doin’ Dents?” he asked. 2D looked relieved but still antsy, wringing his hands together in front of his chest.

“W-well I woke up an’ you weren’t in bed so I came to look for you!” Murdoc wasn’t buying it.

“So what’s that got to do with you stompin’ about like a hippo in heat?” 2D flushed, suddenly more interested in the tile grout than Murdoc.

“Well, ah, after las’ night I was a bit worried about you…”

“Last night?” So something had happened between him and 2D last night. Hopefull,y nothing else endlessly embarrassing that the singer could hold over him.

2D looked confused, then sighed. “You were pretty drunk… Murdoc I found you on the roof.”

“And?”

“An’ you were gonna jump off!” 2D shouted suddenly angry. Satan, all this emotional back and forth was going to give Murdoc whiplash. Now he remembered. After he’d run out of beer he’d switched to stronger spirits to take his mind of things, but it hadn’t worked. He got into an unfortunately pensive mood and ended up on the roof where 2D must have found him. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

“I doubt it dullard, I'm sure you’re just overreactin’ as usual,” he snapped, eager to get back to the bedroom. He pushed past the lanky man and was making a beeline for his bedroom when he heard Russel’s door opening. Great, now the two of them were going to be all over him.

“What the hell is goin’ on out here?” Russel asked, looming over Murdoc. The bassist scowled and crossed his arms. Just what he fucking needed, another nosey asshole.

“2D’s been actin’ like my fuckin’ nanny all week and I damn near sick of it!” Murdoc snapped. 2D threw his hands up in frustration.

“I found him on the roof, drunk off his ass last night Russ,” he explained. Russel let out a deep sigh and turned to Murdoc.

“Murdoc… what’s goin’ on with you man?” Murdoc could feel himself getting more and more angry at his bandmates.

“What’s going on with me?! What’s going on with you? Everyone’s all in my business all the time!” 2D looked angry, his fists clenched and eyes cold. Russel looked more confused than anything.

“We’re jus’ tryin’ ta help you Murdoc! Ever since the accident, you’ve been doing all this crazy shit and we’re worried!” Stu shouted and that was the final straw. Russel stepped forward as Murdoc whirled around and stalked towards the singer.

“Newsflash, dullard! I do crazy shit all the time!”

“Shit like jumpin’ off the roof an’ ODin’ in the hospital waiting room?”

“Yes! But usually in private!” Murdoc shouted back before he could stop himself. He felt Russel come up behind him and lay a large hand on his shoulder and fought not to jump.

“OK guys, calm down and we can talk about this like adults,” he said, steering Murdoc towards the stairs. “Let's sit down in the living room and talk this out.”

Murdoc shook the hand off his shoulder and held his ground. “Fuck off, both of you, and let me get into my room. I ain’t talkin’ about shit.”

“Murdoc I really think we should ta—” Russel started but 2D interrupted him.

“We’re gonna talk about this whether you like it or not Muds,” he threatened and Murdoc was a little surprised at the firmness of his tone. Some of that dominance he’d seen the other night when they’re fucked was leaking into 2D’s everyday persona, and it was off putting.

“And since when do you get to tell me what to do, Faceache?” Murdoc growled, getting right up in Stu’s face. Stuart didn’t back down.

“Since I started havin’ to stop you from fuckin’ dying all the time!” he said, frustrated.

“Well no one asked you to!” There was a pounding in his ears and a squeezing in his chest that was building rapidly. Murdoc felt the nausea and headache from his hangover worsening and all he wanted to do was go lie down in his own bed and sleep. “I didn’t ask you to stop me Stuart I—”

“Enough you two!” Russel interrupted. “Stu go downstairs and put some coffee on, it’s too early for this shit without coffee. Murdoc, go put some clothes on and meet us downstairs in 10 minutes.”

“Rus—”

“And you best believe,” Russel said, giving Murdoc a stern look, “that I will come up here and drag you down the stairs by your ratty-ass moptop if you don’t.”

Murdoc growled and pushed past the drummer and slammed into his bedroom, not caring to look back at 2D.

“FUCK!” he shouted at the top of his voice, kicking one of the bottles on the floor into a wall. It shattered spectacularly but did nothing to make him feel better. The two men outside could probably hear but he didn’t care.

The room still smelled of vomit and it made him gag. He didn’t want to do this now, or even ever. What were they going to talk about anyways? That the fame, the women, the money? It all made him feel empty. Or how about how he’d been trying to off himself for years but had never really got it to stick? Why were they both so fixated on him when Noodle was the one in real trouble?

Whatever. Russel said he had to be downstairs in 10 minutes, but not that he had to be sober. Throwing on a probably a dirty shirt and a definitely dirty pair of jeans he used the next 8 minutes to drink as much as possible. Which was a lot.

By the time he made it down the stairs and into the living room, he was stumbling and feeling much calmer. Russel was seated on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand and he could hear 2D bumbling around in the kitchen.

“Glad I didn’t have to drag you down here,” Russel said, eyeing the bassist over his mug. Murdoc didn’t answer and instead sauntered into the kitchen to get his own mug of caffeinated sludge.

“Oh, you actually came down,” 2D remarked as he wobbled in. Murdoc busied himself with pouring a mug without giving himself 3rd degree burns instead of answering. “Are you really givin’ me the silent treatment?”

“No.” The stream of coffee kept dodging his cup and splashing all over the countertop. 2D watched him for a few moments before sighing.

“Give it here, Murdoc. Before you waste it all.” The singer snatched the carafe and filled the mug, going so far as to add cream and sugar before handing it back. “How did you even manage to get this drunk in 10 minutes?”

“Determination,” he answered and 2D laughed a little. At least he wasn’t angry anymore.

The both wandered back into the living room and sat down. 2D sat down beside Russel and Murdoc settled into the comfy armchair Noodle usually occupied. All three men sipped coffee for a little while before Russel broke the silence.

“So uh, I think we have a lot of stuff that needs to be talked about today, that we’ve been ignorin’ for a long time. So does anyone wanna start talkin’?” The drummer looked between 2D and Murdoc.

“Nothin’ t’talk abou’,” Murdoc said, rolling his eyes. He was starting to wish he’d brought down some rum to add to his coffee. 2D sighed—he’d been doing that an awful lot recently—and set his mug down.

“Murdoc you said upstairs... Well you implied that…” 2D babbled. Russel eventually took pity on him and interrupted.

“Murdoc, what D’s tryin’ to ask is if you’ve tried to kill yourself before? And why?” With so much alcohol in his blood, the blind panic he expected to feel was muted and distant.

“Why d’you care?” he heard himself ask. Both 2D and Russel looked upset.

“We’re your friends, Muds, of course we care, I told you that the other day,” 2D said, quietly. Russel nodded in agreement.

“I know you’ve had a rough life, Murdoc, but I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.”

Even his anger was muted. “A rough life? You don’ know t-the half of it, so fuck off tryin’ t’act like you care.” Both men on the sofa look like they were at a loss for what to do.

“What about Noodle, Murdoc? You know she loves you to death,” 2D pushed. A feeling of dread and sadness washed over Murdoc as he thought of their little girl.

“Wha’ about her? If s-she knows wha’s good for her she’ll hate me jus’ like everyone else.” Oh Satan, he didn’t mean to say all that. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t such a good idea.

Russel looked at a loss for words, but 2D stepped up. “We don’t hate you Murdoc, you’re family.” Fuck he was too drunk cause he could have sword 2D said—

“He’s right. You’ve done some shitty stuff in the past, but what family doesn’t have some skeletons in the closet?” Russel said, smiling.

“Literally, there’s a skeleton in the hall closet, I think,” 2D laughed, but Murdoc wasn’t really listening. He couldn’t focus on anything, voices slipping into and out of his mind like water through a colander. The dread from before that was breaking through the haze of alcohol and turning into full blown panic.

“N-no. It’s not like tha’. You can’ jus’...” Fuck he was getting emotional. He’d thought of the band as a family before, hell he’d outright adopted Noodle, but not since before Plastic Beach. He’d been under the assumption that ever since he’d royally cocked that whole thing up they were just putting up with him as a financial necessity. His chest hurt.

“Mate, you’re not lookin’ too good. You gonna puke?” 2D asked. Russel didn’t bother waiting for an answer and left the room, presumably to get a bucket. “Muds, what’s goin’ on mate?”

“Why d’you care ?” he asked again. It didn’t make sense, there was no way that they still thought of him like that, he’d fucked up so bad so many times.

“I told you mate, you’re family. An’ you’ve been doin’ a lot better since we got here, you don’t really hit me or nothin’.” Because he’d been spending all his time away from the band. Away from them so they couldn’t leave him first. He dropped his head in his hands.

“S’not tha’ easy…” It couldn’t be. But 2D shook his head.

“No, it isn’t. There’s still a lot of stuff we gotta deal with but… well we can try to deal with it, if you wanna.” He did, sort of. Losing the only thing he’d ever had that was even close to a family wasn’t something he wanted. But he didn’t know where to start, or how to even try. There wasn’t enough air, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t breath . 2D noticed and jumped up.

“Oh shit, Murdoc calm down mate,” Stu said, coming to stand in front of the bassist. Murdoc wanted to tell him to fuck off but he couldn’t fucking breath. Thoughts flew through his head at a mile a minute; maybe they’d forgive him maybe he had a chance, how could he be so stupid , this was all some sick prank.

“Hey! Murdoc, look at me ok, jus’ take some slow breaths. Breath with me, ok?” 2D was kneeling in front of him now, he could feel the singer’s body heat. He pressed the palms of his hands harder against his eyes, rubbing hard enough to see stars and for 2D to grab at them.

“Murdoc, jus’ look at me alrigh’?” Murdoc did, ever movement feeling like a struggle. He didn’t have control of his body right now, and it took every ounce of strength to meet 2D’s pupiless stare. “Jus’ like me, in, an’ out, ahhhhhhhh.”

2D held his hands in a light grasp, his long fingers twiddling and fidgeting against Murdoc’s own. He focused on that; it helped.

“Good! You’re doin’ good Muds. It’s gonna be ok,” 2D cooed and Murdoc wanted to hit him so badly.

“S-shut up,” he gasped and 2D nodded, but didn’t let go. Secretly grateful, Murdoc tried to breath through the waves of anxiety. His busted nose didn’t exactly lend itself to even breathing, so he panted through his mouth. By the time Russel came back with a bucket, his breathing was steadier and more controlled.

“Everythin’ all right in here?” Russel asked and 2D let go of Murdoc’s hands to turn around.

“Yeah Rus, I don’ think we need that bucket though.”2D sat back down on the couch and Russel followed. Were they going to start up again with the 3rd degree? Murdoc didn’t think he could handle any more questions.

“OK, well,” Russel paused and took a sip of his now cold coffee. Murdoc did the same, wetting his throat in anticipation of more questions, “maybe we should talk about this again tomorrow after we visit Noodle.”

“Wait what?” Murdoc asked, confused enough to push through the ebbing anxiety and speak up.

“The doctors said we could go and visit Noodle tomorrow! I was tryin’ to tell you that las’ night!.” 2D said excitedly. Murdoc’s ansixty began to ramp back up.

“Is she awake?” he asked. Russel shook his head.

“No, they aren’t gonna wake her up yet but they said if we were real quiet and didn’t stay too long we could go see her.” That made him feel conflicted. It wasn’t good that Noodle was still in a coma, far from it, but as long as she was still out she couldn’t disown him.

“O-OK,” Murdoc breathed. “If we’re done here I’m gonna—”

“Jus’ one more thing Muds,” 2D interrupted, looking nervous. “Russ and me were talkin’ and, well, we don’t think you should be alone too much after the las’ couple incidents.”

Murdoc wanted to be angry but he was just tired. He hadn’t even been awake for 2 hours yet and already he wanted to crawl back into bed with a bottle and finish the day. “Whatever, jus’ don’ bug me.”

Both Russel and 2D looked relieved that he hadn’t put up more of a fight. “We’ll try not to Muds,” Russel answered and Murdoc rolled his eyes.

“Are we done now? ” Murdoc asked. 2D and Russel shared a look but they nodded and Murdoc got up, stumbling. “Then I’m goin’ back t’bed.” 2D followed him. Satan was he going to have to deal with the dullard trailing after him everywhere? Russel stayed where he was, turning back to his coffee and the TV.

Murdoc ignored the singer and climbed the staircase slowly and with an iron grip on the bannister. He could feel the idiot close behind him, hovering, but he tried to focus on the goal: sleep. When he made it to the landing he walked as quickly as he could to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. 2D walked in not seconds later and idled in the middle of the room.

“Well, do whatever you wan’, I’m sleepin,” Murdoc mumbled, falling face first into the bed. The pillow 2D had been sleeping on was right under his nose, and he inhaled the faint smell of butterscotch and weed that clung to the singer. Speaking of, Murdoc felt the bed dip and 2D make himself comfortable, not laying down but sitting up against the headboard.

“Have a good sleep Muds,” he said, but Murdoc was already half conscious. His last thought was that he should probably tell 2D to empty the puke bucket he’d left beside the bed, but sleep claimed him before he could get a word out.

#tw violence #tw car accident #tw drugs and alcohol #tw suicide #2doc #niccalpot #fanfiction #takemetochurchfic

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writingthingsisdifficult · 8 years ago

Text

Half a noodle - the teaspoon girl pt 4

A witch turns Y/N into a teaspoon sized woman, and Sam and Dean has to make sure she doesn’t get squashed – and find a cure.

Word count: 3453

Have another part – this one is a bit longer than the others. Hopefully part five isn’t too far away (I’m sorry – I’m a slow writer).

Also, thanks for the idea, @mrswhozeewhatsis :D Not quite what you had in mind, perhaps, but...

Please let me know what you think – and remember that I’m not English. Also let me know if you want on – or off – my tag list.

From part three:

“Fuckin’ Barbie,” she muttered, but she picked up a few garments anyway. Her old clothes were so dirty she couldn’t wear them anymore – the stench was becoming unbearable.

“Turn around,” she instructed, waving her arms in Sam’s direction. He chuckled, but did as she asked. After pulling her filthy shirt over her head, she retched again and trembled violently. “Ugh, I smell like The Bog of Eternal Stench! Oh my god, what’s this? Seriously, Sam?” She’d picked up a sweater with a white and purple unicorn printed on the front.

“Sorry. As I said, limited choice. Wasn’t exactly a huge store. But the lady behind the counter was certain that ‘my daughter would be delighted’,” he replied, fighting to keep his voice straight.

When Y/N didn’t say anything else, he took the chance on turning around again. She’d donned the unicorn sweater, and was admiring herself in the reflection on his phone. If he ignored the matted hair and grimy clumps of whatever on her face, she looked adorable.

“There was more in the bag too,” he said, clearing his throat and swallowing the snort that was building in his chest. Lifting up the heap of clothes, he revealed a small pile of plastic that scattered over the table: a small glass, a set of cutlery, and an ornate hairbrush.

Dean howled with laughter, no longer able to keep it in.

Ignoring him, Y/N examined the items. Sure, they were plastic, but at least she didn’t have to drink out of her hands.

“I’ve got one last surprise,” Sam said, pulling a small packet out of his pocket. “I figured you didn’t want to go around unarmed, so I got this made for you.”

Y/N tore off the paper to reveal a sword fashioned from what looked like a needle.

“It’s silver. Probably won’t do much damage, but -”

“It’s perfect. Thank you!” Y/N hugged him around the wrist.

“I was thinking,” Dean said with a weird expression after he’d calmed down enough o speak.

“Never a good thing,” Sam muttered just loud enough for Y/N to hear, and she burst out giggling.

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. This,” he held up a small box, “is probably big enough for you to sleep in. Just tuck in a bit of… I don’t know, a wash cloth or something to make a mattress.”

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” Y/N replied. She recognised it as the gift box she’d used to wrap the book she’d given Sam for his birthday, and a small part of her was ecstatic to sleep in something belonging to him. Another part flailed a bit when she realised he’d kept the box.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed with an awkward cough. “Just gotta empty out all the shit I keep in it.” He grabbed the box and practically leapt over to his bag and turned it upside down.

Dean being Dean snickered and stretched his neck to see, but Sam shielded the contents with his body.

“Ooh… What’cha keepin’ in there, Sammy?” Dean sang.

“Just… stuff,” Sam said, trying to keep his cool, but he felt heat creeping across his face. He had filled the box with small trinkets and mementos; a pressed flower and a crumpled paper with addresses to interesting shops, the polaroid that he’d taken of Y/N that sunny day in the park, a couple of ticket stubs from the case with the theatre – she’d been so excited to finally see Shakespeare on stage, even if that particular stage had turned out to be haunted, the sea shell that glinted when he turned it against the light – he had plans for that sea shell, and Dean was not going to spoil them, and finally: the friendship bracelets Y/N had braided when she was sick and stuck in the motel while Sam and Dean finished the job. They were just made for fun, and he suspected she’d wanted to throw them away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Let me see,” Dean continued, but Sam zipped up the bag too fast.

“No.” He took a deep breath before turning back around. “Here, you can use this as a blanket if you want.” He dropped a piece of patterned fabric on the table.

It was a silk handkerchief he’d used once, when they had had to pose as snotty, rich people for a case.

Blinking a couple of times, Y/N smiled up at him. “Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be great.” She picked it up and rubbed her face on it. It was so soft, and still smelled faintly of that cologne Sam used when they had to dress up. Yeah, it would work fine, though when she thought about it, she realised that she might not get much sleep after all.

“Gonna put the box, sorry, bed on the bedside table for you,” Dean said. “So you feel safer at night.”

Not quite knowing how to respond, Y/N put up and exaggerated look of awe. “So you do know how to be sweet?”

Dean scoffed. “Sometimes. When the situation calls for it. Shut up.” He pretended to be annoyed, but the smile never left his face, and it warmed Y/N’s heart.

“Right, now that that’s done,” Sam interrupted, “maybe you want to… uh, take a bath? I mean, you do kinda stink. Bad!”

“Thought you’d never bring it up,” Dean laughed, pinching his nose and scrunching his face up.

Ignoring Dean again, Y/N lit up. “Yes! But… how? I’m too small to use the shower.”

Sam winked and shuffled over to the small kitchenette corner. “Don’t worry. I had an idea while driving back from the shop.” Grabbing a soup bowl and a handful of matchboxes, he returned to pick up Y/N, who willingly let him carry her to the bathroom.

There he set up a makeshift tub for her, filling the bowl with hot water before adding a couple of drops of shower gel, stirring it with his finger to make bubbles. Then he stuck the matchboxes together like a ladder. To top it off, he cut up a clean washcloth to make a towel. “Voila.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem. Just holler if you need anything.” He smiled and left her alone, but he also left the door slightly ajar so he could hear her.

Just after she’d lowered herself into the water, Dean poked his head through the door. “I’m gonna get dinner. What’cha want?”

“Where you goin’? The diner up at the – ? OK, I’ll have a cheeseburger,” Y/N replied with a thoughtful look when Dean nodded.

“Yeah, me too.” Sam’s voice was muted through the wall.

Y/N grinned. “And beer!” she added enthusiastically.

Sam appeared behind his brother. “Um, I think…” he began, “when you’re so little… You’ll get alcohol poisoning.”

Pouting, she slid down in the water, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. Bring me a coke.” When Dean was out of the door, she muttered: “Can’t wait to be big again.”

Sam gave her a smile filled with sympathy. “I’m sure we’ll get you back in no time. With Dean’s creativity and my research, combined with your intelligence, you’ll get back to your beer before you know it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” With that he left her alone again.

It would be impossible to keep eye contact after this. Y/N swore to herself and tried again just for good measure. No chance. The wall was too steep, too smooth to scale. She had no other options.

“Sam!” she called as loudly as she could. “A little help, please?”

It didn’t take long for the bathroom door to open fully and Sam’s hairy head to poke through. When he couldn’t see her, he stepped all the way into the room. “Y/N?”

“Down here,” she replied, trying hard to restrain the burning embarrassment. Sam had seen her naked before, she told herself, well, parts of her anyway. In life or death situations. Never like this. Okay, so maybe the embarrassment wasn’t totally uncalled for.

Sam bent over the sink, but quickly drew back when he realised she had no clothes on. Not sure what to do, he tossed her a piece of the cut washcloth. “What happened?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“The bowl slid into the sink.” That was obvious, wasn’t it? Wrapping the cloth around herself and hoisting it like it was a glamorous dress, she made a tiny noise to let him know she was decent. “Help, I’ve fallen and can’t get up?” It was a lame joke for sure, but anything to relieve some of the heavy tension that suddenly filled the room.

“Good one,” Sam chuckled and held out his hand. When he closed it around her, she couldn’t help herself: it was so warm and gentle, the sweet smell so uniquely Sam, that she leaned in, and rubbed her forehead against his hand like a kitten.

He put her down on the edge of the sink, and turned around so she could get dressed, then carried her back into the room, leaving her on the table while he took a shower too.

“AAAH! Shit! Go away! Shitshitshitshit!!!”

Y/N’s frantic voice startled Sam and he skidded out of the bathroom to see what was wrong. Imagining all the horrible things that could go wrong, he almost sprinted over to the small table, clutching a towel around his waist and soapy hair flopping in every direction, ready to rescue Y/N from danger, only to find her standing over a dark lump with hairy legs that now curled inwards on the dead body. Her needle-sword had pierced right through the lump.

“Spider,” she said with a shrug, not taking her eyes from her slain foe. “Never thought much about them before, but now…” She shuddered and pulled her sword from the creature. The spider’s legs twitched, but fortunately it remained dead.

Sam let out a sigh of relief, happy that there was no real danger, making Y/N look up. She squeaked and turned bright red, before looking away very pointedly. “Y-you go back and, uh, finish your shower. I’ll just… stay here and…” Her voice dwindled into an incoherent mumble, and she refused to look up until she heard the bathroom door close again.

Shortly after, he came back, this time fully dressed, wet hair clinging to his cheekbones. His stomach growled and Y/N’s answered in kind, and they grinned at each other when the roar from the Impala’s engine filled the room.

The door slammed when Dean kicked it closed, his hands full of food. “Sorry, no burger. Italian night at the diner tonight.”

Y/N clapped her hands and squealed. “Pasta! My favourite!”

“Only the best for our little doll princess,” Dean said, nodding to the bright pink sweater she wore. It was adorned with a glittering crown over her chest.

Y/N was too busy sniffing the food to reply, but soon her face fell. “You only bought two…”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I figured you only eat like half a noodle anyway, so…” He cut off a piece of one of the plastic lids and rounded it a bit. Then, after emptying the contents of the boxes onto plates, he turned one of them upside down and put Y/N’s new plate on it.

She sat down on an upturned spoon, and watched as he meticulously cut a spaghetti noodle into pieces and added a drop of meat sauce.

The food was delicious, but it felt like an oddly insufficient meal. She wanted more, but was full after just one small noodle.

After dinner, Dean went out, claiming he was going to check out the local library, and Sam brought out his laptop. Y/N perched in Sam’s pocket, hoping she could at least contribute a little. Maybe pick up some small detail he missed, or just provide some company.

Not even thirty minutes later, Dean came back, hauling himself through the door, looking dispirited and more than a little irritated. “This damn tiny town doesn’t even have a library,” he answered to Sam’s unspoken question. “Or a bar… This place sucks. Gimme a beer. ”

The next morning was a slow one. The research had brought nothing, and the sun burning through the window made them all drowsy. By midday even Sam had stopped looking for a cure, and started mindlessly scrolling through the internet instead.

Suddenly, he grinned and stretched his back. “Dean!” Sam lifted his laptop and waved it around while he spoke.

Peeking around the door, Dean grinned with his toothbrush still in his mouth. “Yo!”

“Found us a new case,” Sam began, showing the screen to his brother and Y/N. “At least I think it’s our kinda weird. By the sound of it, I’m thinking poltergeists. It’s not too far away – AND they have a public library. Looks like it’s not too small either. Whaddaya say, huh?”

Y/N stretched and rolled her shoulders, trying to pull the itch out of her skin. The doll clothes weren’t nearly as comfortable as her own. “I’m game. Anything’s better than sitting cooped up in here. We might as well do something useful while we search for a cure.” She gestured to herself and didn’t mention that the thought of riding in Sam’s pocket again went straight to her gut and made her feel intoxicated.

Sam nodded in agreement, making no show of his excitement over being so close to Y/N again, even though she was still small enough to fit snugly in the palm of his hand.

“Alright. You two finish packing, I’ll bring up the car,” Dean said, wiping his face with a towel. He snatched the car keys from the table and almost skipped out the door.

“Hey!” Sam yelled after him, “I’m not doing all the work – you’re a slob on the road, Dean, I’m not packing your gross shit all alone – no offence, Y/N,” he added after a small pause.

“None taken,” she replied, but the heavy stone that settled in her stomach said otherwise. Or, she thought to herself as she collected her own, tiny belongings and threw them on her bed-box, it was more of a pebble really.

“Y/N? You okay?” Dean asked when he got back and found her fiddling the velcro on the Barbie duffle bag.

“Mhm…” she hummed, summoning her best neutral face. “Just eager to get on the road and leave this godforsaken town behind.” She handed him the bag and muttered under her breath: “Fucking witches.”

If Dean heard it, he didn’t comment on it.

Half an hour later they were cruising down the highway. Dean was – as always – happy to be on the road in his beloved car again: humming to the music and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

Sam dozed with his head against the cool window, smiling in his sleep from the warm bundle lying comfortably in his front pocket.

And Y/N, well, she was drunk on Sam’s scent, and had to concentrate hard not to grab him too much through the thin fabric.

“Ugh! It’s hot in here.” Y/N had all reason to complain: the sun was frying through the open window, and the breeze didn’t reach Sam’s pocket at all. She popped her head over the edge and glared at Dean who resembled a laughing Bond villain.

“Sorry,” Sam said and held out his hand for her to climb into. “There’s no air condition in my shirt, unfortunately.” He kept her in his hands for a while, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over her back and constantly checking if she was okay.

Dean slowed down the car. Not by much, but enough that Sam noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“Not sure which exit…” He squinted out over the landscape: everything looked identical for miles, just huge fields of corn and wheat, sometimes interrupted by narrow side roads.

“Hang on, let me get Google maps,” Sam replied and dropped Y/N on his shoulder before fishing the phone out of his jeans. “Um… looks like you take the next left turn …”

Y/N didn’t hear the rest of the conversation: she was surrounded by Sam’s glorious mane, and was having a moment. Several, actually, and looking back she imagined she probably looked like a cat that was too stoned on catnip to move.

When Sam finally moved to lift her down again, she swatted his hand away. “I can see EVERYTHING!” she marvelled, trying to take in every sight at once. From his shoulder she could see the road ahead and the fields outside, and the sky and the clouds and the sun and the birds playing on the air. Even the roadkill.

Using a handful of soft hair as support, she sat down and dangled her legs over the edge. “Holy shit!” Her awe made them chuckle.

“You… um, you wanna stay up there?” Sam turned his face to get a look at her.

“Please,” she nodded back. “If it’s not too annoying.”

“Not at all. Just let me know when you want down.”

With her whispered okay, Dean stole a sideways glance of the two of them. He said nothing, but his previous mischievous expression softened into a gentle smile.

Y/N nearly toppled backwards as her eyes slid shut, but thanks to Sam’s reflexes, she was caught and placed gently back into his pocket. Cuddling against his chest, clutching the shirt fabric in her arms, she soon drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

The sun had already set, leaving the indigo sky littered with tiny, twinkling stars. The air was cool and silent, and nothing could be heard except the steady rumble from the Impala.

“You should get some rest,” Dean murmured, almost not wanting to disturb the peaceful night. “I’m good to drive for a while yet, and you need your energy if we’re gonna find a cure.” He didn’t have to elaborate, just nod at Sam’s pocket.

“Alright.” Sam yawned and leaned against the door, careful not to jostle Y/N too much. “Wake me up when it’s my time.” He gave a weak wave in the direction of the steering wheel and closed his eyes, sleeping within seconds: the warmth and weight in his pocket weirdly calming him down. It had only been a few days, but he knew he would miss having Y/N so close all the time.

Dean didn’t wake Sam until he pulled into the motel parking lot, and after a quick meal (again, fragments of food for Y/N), Sam and Dean leaned back in their seats. It was one of those evenings where time seemed to stand still, and they could forget about their lives for a moment.

Clinking their bottles together, Sam grinned. “Tomorrow’s gonna bring good news,” he said with a sigh. “I just know it.”

After watching Dean take a large gulp from his bottle, Y/N smacked her lips and shot her bottom lip out, whining as pathetically as she possibly could.

“It’s not safe,” Sam said, but there was pity in his eyes.

Dean nodded, then stopped himself. “I have an idea. Gimme the glass,” he said, taking the cap from the coke bottle and filled it with beer. Then he dipped Y/N’s minute glass into it.

“You’re an angel,” Y/N chirped, lighting up from the prospect of drinking something stronger than soda and making grabby hands at the glass. “The nice kind,” she added quickly when Dean gave her the look.

After two small glasses of beer, Y/N had almost forgotten her… challenges, laughing at all of Sam’s horrible jokes and singing along to Dean’s music that he claimed was classics.

Sam couldn’t help but laugh along, she really was a happy and adorable drunk, but he was wary of how fast the alcohol affected her. “I think you’ve had enough,” he said when Y/N had drained her third glass.

“Aw, Sammy, you’re no fun,” she muttered before suddenly getting to her feet and patting the back of his hand. Leaning on his thumb for support, she drew herself up and started climbing his hand. It was harder than she expected, with virtually nothing to hold on to, but she finally got up and wobbled over his knuckles, before sprinting over the hand and almost launching herself at his shirt.

Pulling herself up the arm by the sleeve, she giggled quietly as if she was doing something she shouldn’t, missing Sam’s look of utter incredulity.

Dean stared at Sam, and Sam stared at Dean. “Um, Y/N, sweetheart, what are you doing?” Dean asked.

Leaning back to look at him like Spiderman, she failed horribly at winking and snorted loudly. “Shhh…” she whisper-yelled. “I’m climbing Sam, can’t you see? Always wanted to – how can I not, I mean look at ‘im,” she continued, slurring slightly. “Mmm… just… muscles, y’know. And…”

She was interrupted by Sam, who surprisingly had turned the shade of a very ripe beetroot. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” he said, gently lifting her off his arm – she’d reached his elbow, and was trying to scramble over a fold in the fabric without falling down – and put her back on the table, where she promptly plopped down on her butt and groaned.

“Hey! Put me back! I’m trying to… I’m gonna… I wanna…” She grinned widely and blew him a loud kiss.

“You’re drunk,” Sam repeated.

“No, I’m not. You’re drunk. I’m… I’m –“ Shutting up abruptly, her eyes darted around frantically. “Bucket!” she mouthed, and then threw up all over herself.

Part five

Tagging my wonderful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @iamreadinginsecret @barneybrigade @fandomismyspiritanimal @mogaruke @kathaswings @superwholockyooooo @missdestiel67 @blackfandomtrashandproud @wstrumpel @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @saradiamayaf

#supernatural fan fiction #sam x reader #teaspoon girl part 4 #sam winchester #dean winchester #reader insert #fluff #fanfic #spn #writing is hard

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thelioninmybed · 8 years ago

Note

Do you and June think Yreth and Tuluspen have ever interacted with Dagnis? i like the idea of them being momentarily united in their shared distaste for her. Or maybe they'd all get along great???? Who knows! Not me!

Although Dagnis, Tuluspen and Yreth do all exist in the same horrible shared universe (Tuluspen and Dagnis even appear together in the next chapter of You Are Coming Down With Me!), I don’t think we’d actually considered how the three of them get on.

Now we have.

June: I feel like yreth would really appreciate dagnis

Lion: from a safe distance

June: She proves her right about EVERYTHING

Lion: YUP

June: She doesn’t want to be in an enclosed space with her but bigod is she good for someone looking for evidence of feanorion garbness

Lion: Right, the fact they’ve not put her down is PRETTY TELLING

June: fuck ok i’m having an idea

what if dagnis picks up on how much tuluspen hates her and decides to be oblivious about it

Lion: ooooooh

Friendly even!

June: and decides to follow her around like a devoted

weaselthing

Lion: YES

June: ‘we have so much in common’ she growls happily

Lion: god, Dagnis is the actual worst? I love her SO MUCH

June: ‘my master and yours, our lives are so common, hoo yiss’

tuluspen has never felt more defensive of maedhros

Lion: ahahahaaha

(and she is never NOT feeling defensive of Maedhros) (all those tumblr posts about how great he is and how he never did anything wrong ever are all her)

June: (100%)

dagnis leaves her little gifts

the poos were wooing!

Lion: awwwwwww lil’ bits of tasty squirrel for her new bestie

June: owl pellets

terrible poetry

if you’ve never heard ‘you soak my loins like a bitch wolf in heat’ warbled outside your bedroom window

you are missing out

Lion: oh my god I’m swooning

June: tuluspen is beside herself

maedhros shrugs, if he could have done anything about dagnis she would have been dead in the compost heap 150 years ago

Lion: Maedhros this is a hostile working environment you are cultivating

'seduce her back. I don’t know.’

June: 'they’ll be leaving soon’ he says, with a note of hope but not much conviction

listen, if tuluspen could seduce anyone, things would be very different

Lion: Is Tuluspen the least seductive character in all the legendariums? Probably

Dagnis definitely wouldn’t pretend to be Fingon so she wouldn’t be able to get off anyway

June: that log that gollum paddles around? might be slightly less winsome and flirtatious than tuluspen

Lion: But only once the mould started growing on it

June: right, before that it would outcharm her

Lion: Tuluspen’s girlfriend is only with her out of spite 😞

June: i don’t think dagnis and tuluspen ever get physical (i really hope not) but if they did, dagnis would definitely give her the worst orgasms of her life

shameful, terrible, nightmarish orgasms

Lion: They definitely don’t but Tuluspen probably has a horrible sex dream about her

And can handle her even less afterwards

June: okay but about tuluspen’s girlfriend i feel like yreth would be BEYOND amused

tuluspen has never talked this much to yreth, it is all complaining

(shit, yes, imagine tuluspen not being able to make eye contact with dagnis and dagnis knowing IMMEDIATELY)

Lion: Tuluspen talking to her about things that aren’t their duties or part of unhealthy roleplay!

(Dagnis was howling outside her window for exactly that reason)(it was very sensual howling, she knew the effect it would have) (Maedhros also had a nightmare about Dagnis that night but it was, tbh, still better than his usual nightmares)

June: dagnis lurks up to yreth at some point and is like 'for $100 and your horse i’ll let you white knight at me for your girlfriend’

yreth is conflicted, on the one hand she doesn’t actually feel the need to HELP tuluspen, on the other this would be GREAT role play fodder

Lion: oh no Yreth don’t do it, this is a devil’s bargain

June: on the third hand, dagnis is probably going to eat her horse and she likes her horse

Lion: Right, that’s a v. good point. Obv. the solution is to pay someone else to pretend to be Dagnis (not in horses) and then white knight them

June: who has the free time and performance sense to properly -

Lion: OH NO

'this shall be my greatest challenge as an artist yet’ Maglor says, already rubbing fox dung into his hair

June: maglor 'over involved in everyone else’s life’ feanorion

Lion: (this explains SO MUCH about crooked aim) (he’s HAD PRACTICE)

June: SHIT

-shakes fists above head- MAGLOR

Lion: okay so Maglor - does he bleach his hair or get a wig? On the one hand elves love their hair

on the other, he’s a true artist and his dedication to the craft is unparalleled

June: But verisimilitude, right. He’s gonna bleach his hair and then be stuck with it. Celegorm tells him he’s never looked better

Lion: ❤ Obv. Celegorm is quick to inform him that he wears it better and also Maglor’s roots are showing but whatevs, art is suffering

Maglor, in Dagnis-guise, serenades Tuluspen again that night. The plan is for Yreth to show up and shoo him off in full view of her swooning hatesexbuddy

Unfortunately Maglor cannot bring himself to accurately replicate Dagnis’ actual musical/poetic ability

June: maglor you fuck

Lion: And writes something of unsurpassed beauty that all weep to hear

June: you had one job

Lion: Tuluspen is confused mostly and wants to know why Maglor, dressed as Celegorm, was singing

does…Maglor have a crush on her? Does Celegorm? Is that why he was dressed as him to woo her?

June: oh no, he’s gotten bad intel on which brother she liked

Lion: Celegorm is furious that Maglor is seducing Maedhros’ steward on his behalf, he doesn’t need anyone to do his seducing on his behalf. He’ll go seduce her his own self right now

June: tuluspen is so upset

Lion: I suppose that’s the part where Yreth gets into a fight with Celegorm? Poor Tuluspen did not ask for any of this

June: yreth is so pissed, this is what you get for hiring a feanorion to do ANYTHING. more confirmation bias

Lion: ahahahah. At least 'stealing mah girl’ is an ironclad excuse for punching the most punchable of Feanorians…like the murders weren’t

June: somewhere mid trying to kick celegorm in the shins with a sword celegorm informs her that the most effective way to get rid of dagnis is with a squirt bottle of soapy water

Lion: ahahahaaha Curufin invented squirt bottles specifically for this purpose

June: 'i can make them acid resistant too,’ he says hopefully

Lion: Oh Curufin. If bits of her were burnt and melty she’d just smell worse

June: and she would just get grosser looking, she is not killable. she is the most durable elf

Lion: She’s the physical manifestation of their sins, come to haunt them, one of them suggests while feeling esp. maudlin about the dead three day old badger in his bed

lmao Dagnis survives the sinking of Beleriand and follows Maglor around for all eternity

June: a manifestation? dagnis is a little annoyed to think that anyone could consider a vala ordering her to do anything

Lion: Right, Dagnis follows no will but her own

June: did they miss the part where she made not one but two valar so uncomfortable that they tried to fire her from being an elf?

Lion: The Feanoians are very self centered

June: 'it’s not an elf’ says vana. 'some kind of fisher cat’

'how dare you’ says orome 'some of my best friends are fisher cats’

they settle on bog goblin

#Anonymous #Tuluspen #is so grossed out #Ýreth #is so smug #Dagnis #is a force to be reckoned with #June tells me she is WRITING THIS FIC #and I have never been more excited about anything #Junion

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