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aellynera · 3 years

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The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder.

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday.

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor.

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.”

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing.

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves.

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

Text

Day Six - Quiet Hours

AN: I have been looking forward to this day all week, and I’m so excited to see what everyone’s done for this! I absolutely love College AUs, and would love to do more of them! Thank you @spideychelleweek for getting this all together for us!

Prompt: College AU

Here is about 4k (oops i went overboard) of fluff, college, humor, and a teensy bit of angst

“Karen, I think I’m in love.”

Peter almost couldn’t believe it.

No, he really couldn’t believe it.

She’d actually said yes.

She— girl-of-his-freakin’-dreams Michelle Jones— said yes.

Yes to a date with him.

He honestly doesn’t know how it happened, how she was able to decipher the fact that he was asking her to coffee from whatever that jumbled, painfully awkward mess was that came out of his mouth when he’d asked. And he’s not sure exactly how many times he’d said the words “cup of coffee,” in the span of a minute, but if he had to make a guess, it’d probably have been in the low-thousands.

They’d agreed to Friday at 3:30 at one of those cute coffee shops just outside of the campus.

Two days from now.

Alone.

On an actual date.

He briefly contemplates pinching himself; this has to be some kind of a dream. The polar opposite of whatever a nightmare was. He feels lighter than air as he swings from building to building, the smile under his mask threatening to burn through the fabric.

God, what a day.

He’d only just met Michelle this semester. He remembers briefly seeing her on moving day, both of her parents helping her move into the room next to his. Her father had been grumbling about the idea of a co-ed dorm, her mother playfully smacking him on the arm as she chided him about the progressing times.

And though they were neighbors, Peter only got to know her through their shared Psych 100 course. He’d nearly burst into the classroom on day one, having less than a minute to spare as he scrambled to the closest seat he could find.

He would not be late on the first day again. No, sir.

He was starting this year off right.

The girl next to him— Michelle— had thrown him a fleeting side-eye glance, though not actually looking up from sketching all over the syllabus the professor had just handed out.

Peter wished, hoped, prayed to God that she couldn’t hear him breathing like he’d just run up four flights of stairs.

(Which he had.)

He’d fumbled, the awkward energy radiating through his bones as Dr. Cabot called his name during attendance for the second time— the first he’d missed because he was too busy staring at the doodles on Michelle’s paper. The girl had snorted at his near-incoherent bumbling, disguising the huff of amused air under her hand, biting back the smirk.

The shade of red on his face almost matched the pen on her desk, his stomach erupting in butterflies at the toothy grin that flashes across her features at the speed of light, almost missing it entirely.

Okay, maybe the embarrassment wasn’t so bad.

And it seemed to go like that the rest of the fifty-minutes; him finding himself unable to take his attention away from the girl next to him, even when his eyes are trained right on Dr. Cabot as she reads the most-likely plagiarized section that’s totally ripped from other professors’ syllabi, Academic Dishonesty.

Ever since that day, it was safe to say that Peter was smitten. Embarrassingly so. He had to contain every ounce of enthusiasm that threatened to explode from his body when he’d been paired with her for the first project of the semester.

“Okay, so I figured one of us can talk about Vygotsky and the other can have Piaget. Sound good?”

Though he was making direct eye contact, listening as intently as he could, none of Michelle’s words registered, Peter way too caught up in how freaking enchanting she looked, back-lit by the hues of orange and gold provided by the early-evening sun.

Maybe working on the quad had been a mistake.

“Yo. Parker.”

Oh, great. And now he’s been caught staring. Now she knows he’s a certified, grade-A creep.

And just like that, he’s snapped right out of his daydream. “Oh! Uhm— Uh…” He stammers, mouth hanging open as he tries to figure what the hell to say, feeling himself shrink back at her expectant stare. “Wha—What?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck.

She turns her head, eyeing him from the side, brow quirked. “I asked you if that sounded good.”

“If what sounded good?”

“If one of us talked about Vygotsky and the other talked about Piaget.” There was only a hint of exasperation to her tone, something which Peter’s pretty damn thankful for. “Theory of cognitive development? You know? The project we’re supposed to be working on?”

Though, he knew she was probably way more annoyed than she let on.

And he couldn’t really blame her.

There wasn’t really anything in either psychologists’ theories about the staring at pretty girls in the sunlight stage of life.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods thoroughly. “Yeah. Of course. That sounds great.”

“Are you good?”

He wonders if his skin looks as hot as it feels. “Uh, yeahyeahyeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

Judging by the look on her face, she can see right through that bullshit. But thankfully, she doesn’t press, either completely uninterested or just unable to find it in her to even bother.

It takes a month... or two... or three, but he finally gets the guts to actually do something about his feelings when he sees her studying in the library one day, her nose buried in the pages of the textbook she’s poring over.

The library’s normally about a thousand degrees, give or take, but today it seems especially balmy as he rocks back and forth on his heels, hands wringing together as he tries to come up with any kind of coherent sentence that isn’t this inane mumbling he’s currently doing. It only takes about another three seconds of panic before he mucks up just enough courage to ask her if she’d want to get coffee sometime.

And, for whatever reason, one that is beyond him entirely, she says yes, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she stares back down at the convoluted words littering the pages.

Honest to God, he feels like he could sing every octave of Beyonce’s Love on Top at this point. With choreography.

Patrol goes on without a hitch that evening, Peter having successfully stopped a poorly thought out break-in before it even happened, the criminals actually trying to use a crowbar in this day and age to open the backdoor of some guy’s place. A few thwip-thwips here and there, some well-timed kicks and punches, and boom. Taken care of.

Easy-peasy.

Oh, he’d also helped a little boy get his balloon back after it had floated away.

And he’d prevented a shoplifter from implementing their five-finger-discount on a set of particularly expensive purses outside of one of those designer shops.

An actual car thief— he had made sure to check this time, not wanting a repeat of his early Spider-Man days— thought he was being especially sneaky before he found himself webbed to the side of the parking garage.

Overall, it’s been a pretty successful night.

And Peter can 100% account that to this new, magical, walking-on-air, invincible feeling that’s flowing through his veins, radiating from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes. The evening sun bleeds into night as he flips through the air, whooping and hollering with each leap and bound, the lights of the city twinkling around him. Maybe he throws in a few more aerial tricks and spins as he swings by a crowd, his smile growing exponentially when a chorus of cheers eggs him on.

This happy-go-lucky feeling carries him all the way back to campus, and his stomach does almost the same acrobatics that he’d done seconds before when he sees MJ exiting the library, eyes glued to her phone as she walks through the quad. He knows if he makes it back in time, he might get the chance to see her— talk to her again, for just a little bit, to catch her as she’s going into her room.

McClain Hall isn’t that far from where he’s perched on the Student Union Building, just on the northern edge of campus, the slightest bit separated from the surrounding dormitories. His own room is on along the outside perimeter, perfect for when he needs to sneak back in from a night of vigilante justice. It’s definitely a step up from Freshman year, that’s for sure.

Plus, McClain has suite style rooms, so he gets his own bathroom now, which is pretty sweet.

He lands perfectly above his window, internally fist-pumping as it slides open easily. There had been a few too many times where past-Peter had forgotten to unlock the dang thing before leaving, resulting in a very awkward, “Hey, RA, can you unlock my dorm for me? I forgot my keys in there. And yes, I also forgot… my… clothes… too…”

Since then, he’s been a lot more careful, both carrying a spare key in his utility belt, and leaving the window unlocked at all times.

He climbs in, the dark surrounding him as he lands silently, pulling his mask off and throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room without a second thought.

Though something seems… off.

Almost instantly, he’s hit with the faint smell of perfume lingering on the air, and he briefly wonders if Ned and Betty had been here. He glances around, eyes adjusting to the light, seeing his grey sheets replaced with a deep navy.

Oh, God.

Oh, good God.

He’s such an idiot.

This isn’t his room.

Shitshitshitshitshitshit SHIT.

He doesn’t have any time to process the utter terror that starts to pulse through him, the hairs on his arms standing ramrod straight as the jingling of keys and as a soft voice is heard on the other side of the door.

In a moment of panic, he debates on whether or not he should just web the doorknob, thinking it could buy him some time. But he takes a millisecond too long trying to decide. The lock turns, and he ends up hurling himself behind the de-lofted bed as the door opens, effectively trapping himself between the wall and the wooden frame.

How he hadn’t noticed the difference in how the room was arranged when he’d first come in, he had no idea.

Never, ever, under any circumstances, was he to Spider-Man while distracted, he decides right then and there.

“—studying in the library all day. Felicia’s gone on some sisterhood trip, or whatever.” Michelle’s phone is tucked into her neck as she kicks the door shut with her foot, bypassing the main light switch and electing for the much more muted tones of her desk lamp and fairy lights.

Peter’s lungs seem to be collapsing second by second, and he briefly wonders if it’s possible that he could be having some kind of heart attack. He can see her slightly through the thin gap between the mattress and the bed frame, his stomach lurching into his chest at the sight of her.

Ohgodohgodohgod.

“Yeah… Yeah… Mhmm… Yeah, classes are fine… just three or four big midterms next week, and one of them’s a project.” She drops her backpack on the chair, her back to the intruder in her room as she puts her books back on her desk. “Yeah… Uh-huh…. Yeah…” Her tone is monotonous in response to the cheery voice on the other line, her own droning the same automated reply every few beats. “Uh, yeah. Peter’s fine… I guess?”

Instantly, the sound of his own name in a conversation that he’s not a part of in any way and kind of has no business hearing piques his interest.

There’s a hint of hesitation to her tone as she continues, as if she’s not completely sure she’s willing to divulge any more sensitive information. “I mean… I’m kind of… getting coffee with him… like a date, I think.” She pauses, holding the phone away from her ear at the excited rambling on the other end.

She thinks??

“Mom, oh my God, please stop...:” She lets out an melodramatic groan, running a hand over her face in exasperation. “I’ve told you before, I didn’t think he was interested, geez. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

She talks to her mom about me??

His insides are a mish-mosh of this weird concoction consisting of utter horror-panic and pure unadulterated elation. It’s ultimately a very confusing feeling, and he’s not sure if he’s going to end up barfing all over her carpet out of fear or happiness. If his mask was still on he’s about 105% sure Karen would have already called an ambulance for him.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay… Listen, I’m gonna get ready for bed, take a shower. I’ll talk to you more about this later, I promise… Bye, Mom…. Yeah…. Love you, too.”

If at all possible, his anxiety seems to spike as she hangs up the phone.

MJ rolls her shoulders once, shaking her hands out as she releases a relieved sigh.

He had to get the hell out of there.

Unseen.

And alive.

His chance finally comes when she steps into her bathroom, and he waits for the sweet, wonderful, holy sound of that door clicking shut. He holds his breath, listening for any movement on the other side of the door. He’s able to pick up on her faint shuffling as she (presumably) changes out of her clothes and into nothi—

He immediately decides that he absolutely cannot think about that right now. Very dangerous territory.

When he’s sure that the coast is clear, he makes a break for it, snatching up his discarded mask as he leaps for the window.

But perhaps it would have been a better idea to listen if the shower had been turned on yet.

Before he can even get a foot on the windowsill, the bathroom door opens again, revealing his potential inamorata in nothing but a dark burgundy bathrobe. His eyes are immediately drawn to every patch of skin visible; her neck, her collarbones, her unfairly long legs.

He’s not sure who screams louder.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?!”

A fair question.

What the fuck is he doing in her room?

“I’M SORRY—”

“—JESUS CHRIST—”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR— I THOUGHT YOU WERE IN THE SHOWER—”

“—SO YOU SNUCK INTO MY ROOM?”

“NO! GOD NO—”

“—HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN HERE?!”

Peter tries to lower his volume, hoping that she’ll follow suit. “Like maybe five minutes!”

“OH MY GOD—”

“I didn’t mean to— God— AH! I’m so sorry, MJ!”

She stops yelling, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“How did you even get in here?! Did you seriously climb all the way—” She immediately cuts herself off, her eyes flicking to the window before giving him a quick once over that makes him feel at least fifty-times more hot under the collar than he already was. It was a wonder the suit wasn’t burnt to a crisp at this point.

He can practically see the dots as they connect in her head.

Michelle considers herself to be more perceptive than most people, which is why she’s known all along that something was up with this Parker dude. By their third or fourth week of knowing each other, she’d come to the deduction that this boy was either a crime fighting vigilante or a serial killer. Really, could have been either one. She was just glad to have at least something confirmed.

Though she would have preferred it to not be from Spider-Man himself sneaking into her room at midnight when she’s wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

“It’s not what it looks like!!” Peter immediately tries to derail her train of thought, hands held out in defense. “It’s uh— not mine.” He stares blankly at her, his expression wide in sheer terror as he scrambles for an answer. “Yeah.” He trails off, his eyes momentarily drawn the the trail of skin from her neck down to the valley between her—

No. No no no. Stop that.

She fixes him with a calculating stare, eyes narrowing as she quirks a doubtful brow. “Then who’s is it?”

His scoff is nothing if not a little over-the-top, his expression scrunching slightly as if the answer’s obvious. “Spider-Man’s.”

Her only response is a slow, deliberate blink.

“Who I am definitely not. I just make the suits,” Peter quickly spits out, and he starts to shrink back the longer her eyes are on him. “Just… Just test driving... the new model… Because I’m his suit… crafter… guy....”

He’s met with another blink. “Are you done?” She asks.

There really was no way out of this.

Peter sighs dejectedly. “Yeah…”

“Tell me something, Parker.” Her tone is a bit too casual for comfort. “Do I look stupid?”

“No! God, no!” He groans, running a tense hand through his hair. “You’re like the smartest person I’ve ever met! Just…” He brings his volume down even more, though he doesn’t seem to know what to say, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to form a coherent sentence.

He decides that there’s really nothing he can say, nothing that can convince her that he’s not a superhero.

A sharp exhale escapes him as he finally looks up at her, eyes pleading. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“What? That Spider-Man’s a creep who sneaks into girl’s dorms?”

“No!!” Peter shouts, voice cracking. “I mean, I don’t sneak into—Ugh! That’s not what I— God, I meant don’t tell anyone that I’m—” His mouth snaps shut, lips pressed together as he lets out a sharp exhale. He glances right and left, voice now barely above a whisper. “Spider-Man.”

She’d almost be amused if it weren’t for the way her ears and skin burned in embarrassment at being caught in just a bathrobe by the cute boy she likes. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

He seems to notice her discomfort. “Michelle, I’m so sorry, I—” And it’s then that he starts rambling. “And I just got so excited about our date and I just wasn’t thinking clearly… like at all, and I usually sneak back into my room after patrol and since we’re neighbors and everything I guess I just got confused, which doesn’t usually happen, I promise this has never happened, and then I didn’t know what to do and all of a sudden you’re in here and I’m hiding behind your bed and— “ He takes a deep breath, hanging his head in shame. “God, I’m such an idiot!”

There’s a sharp knocking on the door; Peter nearly jumps out of his skin, and MJ seems just as jarred.

“RA on duty,” A firm voice calls from the other side of the door. “It’s quiet hours.”

“I should— I should, uh…” Peter stumbles over his words, unable to take his eyes off of the girl in front of him. “I should go back… to my room.”

“Oh, uhm— Yeah.” MJ nods awkwardly. She gestures to the door, eyebrows raising in question.

Peter shakes his head, breathing out a shaky chuckle. “Oh, no… I’ll just go back the way I came.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder before planting his hands on his hips, giving a firm nod.

It really stings how she doesn’t even look at him as she mumbles out another near-silent, “Yeah.”

And he leaves without another word.

Man, he knew that Parker luck was something that had plagued his family for years and years, but he hadn’t expected it to hit so hard all at once. It had been quite a while since he’d fucked up that badly, so he thought he was in the clear. Maybe that had been his first mistake of many. Maybe he shouldn’t have let his guard down.

A pit forms in his stomach, twisting and pulling in a vice-like grip as he returns to his own room.

And now, the girl-of-his-dreams Michelle Jones, because he had been so lost in his own thoughts, because of his complete lapse in basic attention, probably wanted nothing to do with him. He knew he didn’t need to ask if their date was still on, and truthfully, he couldn’t really blame her, given that he’d invaded her personal space and embarrassed her. No, he didn’t expect her to want anything to do with him now. Especially not after the way she’d yelled at him.

There’s been plenty of times that Peter’s fucked up, almost too many to count. But this… This was up there.

He doesn’t hear from her the next day, nor the day after, only seeing her when she comes to Psychology class that Friday. He can’t even bring himself to actually look at her when she sits in her usual spot next to him.

He mopes about the rest of the day, knowing full well that it’s his own stupid fault. Ned points this out, though he tries to remain sympathetic as he agrees that yes, Peter’s an absolute dumbass sometimes.

But Ned also suggests actually talking to MJ about all this.

Peter immediately shoots that down.

Instead, he decides to do the rest of his moping at the campus Starbucks, cheek resting against his hand as he reads the same sentence about the zone of proximal development over and over, his vanilla latte completely forgotten in all of his sulking.

“Why the long face?”

Her voice startles him out of his brooding state, and he immediately looks up, heart thumping in his ears as his eyes land on one Michelle Jones, two coffees in either hand.

“Uh—” Peter’s response isn’t his smoothest. He blinks in surprise, briefly wondering if he might be dreaming. “I—” His voice cuts off, finding that he can only stare up at her with this dopey, blank expression.

“What? You thought I forgot?” She lifts her index finger from the side of one of the cups, pointing to her watch. “It’s 3:30. I’m right on time.”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, though she still seems to wait for his invitation to sit, the faintest hint of insecurity behind her eyes.

Finally, Peter smiles back up at her, a breathless, shy chuckle escaping him. Her smirk turns into a full grin, and she pulls the chair out with her foot, setting both cups of coffee down as she sits.

“I gotta say,” Peter starts, eyebrows pulled together in happy confusion. “I’m kinda surprised you still wanted to… get coffee with me. After… After, well, you know… I’m so, so sorry about that. Again.”

Michelle pushes one of the cups to him, taking a thoughtful sip from her own. “Eh, it’s fine.”

“Really?” Peter asks, pitched raised in minor disbelief. “I mean,” He pauses, huffing in amusement and slight embarrassment at his previous actions. “I’m kind of a dumbass.”

She shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes as she glances up from behind the cup. “Yeah,” She agrees readily after a moment’s contemplation. “You are.”

They both laugh quietly.

No argument there.

“But… I’ve been thinking about it.” She puts her cup down, bracing both elbows on the table as she leans forward slightly, her voice incredibly nonchalant. “I think I kinda have a thing for dumbasses.”

“Oh? Really?” He breathes, butterflies in his stomach erupting.

“Uh-huh.” MJ nods, eyes squinting as she fixes him with another sly smirk. “Especially ones that look that good in a skin-tight onesie.”

Peter’s sure his face could blend in with said onesie if he was actually wearing it, and he nearly chokes on his new latte.

She tries to hide the snort that comes out of her, but fails miserably.

“Well, don’t worry,” Peter lets out another, slightly less nervous, laugh, firing finger guns at the girl across from him, attempting a not-so-smooth wink. “There’s way more dumbassery where that came from.”

Her lips press together in a thin, yet incredibly cute smile that makes Peter’s heart soar, a welcome warmth washing over his body. “Good,” She says through a quiet laugh, shaking her head at him as she takes another sip from her coffee.

Yup, he’s definitely in love.

#spideychelleweek2k19 #spideychelle #petermj #peter parker #michelle jones #fic #peter parker x michelle jones #college au #i hope you liked it!!#i had so much fun writing it #i want to write more!!

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latestageyouth · 5 years

Text

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 2 - #Pattonisleftoutonceagain

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, mention of human taxidermy (just one sentence), grave-robbing (no active grave robbing), swearing, dogs, mentions of death but no one actually dies

summary: Just the boyos bonding in an old haunted church (I am sorry Patton stans Patton just would not allow of This Behavior™)

author’s note: uploaded another one! yay! the trigger warnings on this one are wild, I didn’t even realize that haha. Anyways, enjoy!

There was something wet on his face. Virgil scrunched up his eyebrows. The wet seemed to move, it felt kind of harsh on his skin. It was shaped...like a tongue. Virgil shot up, eyes wide. He looked at the spot next to him on the couch, staring at the golden retriever who was still trying to lick him. He moved away from the couch.

He heard someone chuckle behind him, "Good morning, Sunshine," he turned around to be faced with Roman, who was eating eggs at the table.

Virgil opened his mouth to say something, but found himself stuck, as if there was a hand around his throat, but inside.

"Rise and shine," Roman took another bite of his eggs.

Virgil scrambled for his phone. Uncle Emile is gonna kill him. Sure enough, there were 23 messages and missed calls in total. He was soon typing out a response: 'Hey, Em, I'm okay, sorry I scared you, I fell asleep.'

He looked at the smudged number on his forearm and decided to save it. He also texted this number 'Remus? Where did u go? u still in the house?'

He got the response almost immediately. 'no we went to starbucks lmao'

'so u finally woke up lolololololol'

He also sent a picture of Virgil sleeping on the couch.

'so,,,bootiful,,,,,,,so,,puree'

'lmao'

Virgil huffed and began typing: 'ok, I get it, stop spamming me. Also, bring me a caramel latte would u??'

'k'

Virgil looked at the time, 7:23 shining on the screen. He opened Notes, typing out a question for Roman: 'is that ur dog?'

He turned the screen to face Roman, who looked at it and then at the dog eating from his bowl, "Yeah, her name's Princess Stain The Sixth" before Virgil could ask him what the fuck, Roman continued, "Remus named her, we just call her Princess."

Oh, that explains it. Virgil nodded. There was a long silence between the two of them, Virgil looking at Princess while Roman ate his eggs.

"So...you're mute?" at last Roman looked up at the other. Virgil contemplated the answer. He didn't want to explain his condition and answer Roman's questions, and there was not much of a chance that he will ever speak around him. He nodded.

"Ah, sorry about yesterday, there aren't any mute or deaf students in our school. I know that's not an excuse, but still," he took the plate and put it in the sink, "Though I do have one question..." Virgil raised his eyebrows, "Why do you hang out with Remus?"

Virgil began typing, well, actually deleting more than typing: 'I mean, yeah he can be a bit extra, but he's not that bad when you tune out most of the things he says.'

Roman quirked an eyebrow, "'A little bit extra'? I'm sorry, are we talking about the same person? He listed off more gory and effective ways to kill the main characters while we watched the movie. One of which included a detailed process of human taxidermy."

'Okay, he can be really fucking disgusting when he wants, but at least he's not a boring prude.'

Roman shook his head, "Try living with him, after a week you would be crying tears of happiness if he stopped talking."

Virgil stared at him.

"R-right, sorry."

Both looked at the front door as it practically flew open, "Hi bitches! Dee already went to school, but I just couldn't leave you here," Remus walked over to Virgil and handed him a Starbucks cup. He took a sip and scrunched up his face. Pure black coffee, "Oops, sorry, must've gotten them mixed up."

How can you even drink that? Virgil questioned. He wanted an answer to that, but the Latte was more important.

"Okay, so we have a few minutes before the school bell rings, do you need anything?" Roman looked at the clock hanging above the fridge, then at the other two. Virgil shrugged, there wasn't anything he could take. Remus went to his room for his backpack. Virgil got out his phone again, seeing there was 1 unread message from his uncle: 'Alrighty, just make sure that it will not happen again :) love you too, meet me at school <3' Virgil smiled a little at that.

"Okay, that's everything, let's go!" Remus was already out the door, and Virgil ran to catch up to him, Roman just stayed behind them.

They were walking too fast, so Virgil couldn't type without it looking like a bunch of gibberish. Instead, Virgil settled into listening to Remus ramble on and on about that one cute boy in Starbucks with a broken nose, how Damon got almost bit by Princess again, about what time he wants to spray the graffiti in the boy's bathroom...wait what? Virgil tried to forget about the last part. He didn't want to get in trouble on his second day, this school will be different. He's gonna be a good student...well, at least a mediocre one. Yeah, mediocre is good, none of this graffiti business. He hopes Remus won't be offended. It was nice having a friend. Were they even friends? Virgil felt a nudge on his shoulder.

"Dude, you gucci?" Virgil nodded, "So yeah, as I was saying, deodorant doesn't taste that bad."

They departed while going to their lockers. None of their lockers were close to one another, which Virgil thought was a shame, but at least Remus isn't sure which is his. He wouldn't want to open it one day only to find it filled with dead possums or whatever Remus would think of. He caught the sight of Damon talking with one of the girls in his English class. When Damon finally noticed Virgil looking at him, he wasted no time approaching him, ignoring the girl, who eventually scoffed and walked away.

"So, the sleeping beauty finally woke up, huh?" Virgil gave him an unamused look, nudging his head against the direction of the girl. Damon looked back at her, "Oh, Bailey? Don't worry about her, just gossiping," he waved his hand dismissively.

"What are we talking about?" Remus said as he leaned against Virgil's locker.

"Okay, you didn't hear it from me, but Remy was caught fucking with Nate under the social studies hallway's staircase. Again. But, like, I dunno, it's just a rumour after all..." Deceit exaggerated his hand movements for a more dramatic effect.

"Okay, we all know the last part is bullshit. Of course he would get caught, he's such an amateur," they both looked between the three, their eyes landing on Virgil, "...You don't know who Remy is, do you?" Virgil shook his head.

"Remy is the school's professional slacker. He spends all of his nights at concerts and parties, then drinks coffee to try to stay awake, which doesn't work most of the time anyway, so he sleeps a lot in class. If you offer to buy him Starbucks he will do anything for you. He's also a major slut, a cheater. He's utterly disgusting. Don't ever talk to him," the longer Damon talked the more intense his death glare got, but although it was aimed at Virgil, it wasn't aimed at Virgil.

"You're only saying that because he broke up with you," Remus smirked.

At that moment, the glare was averted to Remus and Damon looked more offended than angry, "He absolutely did not! I broke up with him. It was his fault that he was drunk and still thought we were together. I didn't even know he was drunk. It's those godforsaken glasses, he never takes them off. Why the hell does he even wear them?" Damon crossed his arms.

"Maybe he doesn't have eyes..."

Virgil squinted his eyes and let out an exaggerated cough. The couple looked up at him.

"Oooh yeah, sorry, we forgot about you," there wasn't anything malicious behind Remus' words, as far as Virgil could tell.

"Anyways," the two diverted their eyes at Damon, who pointed his finger at Virgil, "You have economics, right?" Virgil nodded, "Great, we too," Damon smirked. At the word 'economics' Remus let out a loud and exaggerated groan. Damon just rolled his eyes, "C'mon, economics isn't that bad when you actually put in effort."

Remus put his face in his hands, "I don't wanna put in effort..." he drew out the last word.

"Nevertheless, we should probably get to class," and so, the three began walking down the halls. When they did get to the classroom, Remus and Damon already sat together and shrugged at Virgil. There were two empty seats. One was next to a sleeping guy with a leather jacket whose coffee was tipped over and slowly trickled on his desk. He assumed that was Remy, no thanks, he'd rather sit next to that cafeteria kid from the other day. As soon as he sat down the stranger beamed at him and began talking. Virgil learned his name was Patton, and that Roman had already told him he was mute, so he was sorry. Virgil accepted the apology. There was just something off about him that Virgil couldn't place a finger on. It wasn't the fact that Patton was too cheery and chatty for his own good or the way he always moved his finger, wiggling them around or playing with a pencil, no, Virgil got his fair share of hyperactive friendly kids who make friends with everyone they see. Patton got quiet when the teacher walked in. Almost...too quiet, if that's a thing. Virgil assumes it is. The kid isn't even paying that much attention, much more focused on doodling flowers and cats in his notebook. Virgil decided to ignore it, he wasn't about to stick his nose up some stranger's business. The only interesting moments in the lesson were when Remy woke up and realized he doesn't even have this class, or when one of the other teenagers disrupted the lesson and Mr. Porter got all red in the face. He let out a sigh when the bell rang. As he was getting up a hand wrapped around his shoulders.

"We're thinking about skipping the rest of the day, you comin'?"

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Damon, "Don't act like you actually enjoy school. And before you...type anything, yes, it is only your second day, which means they will most likely let you off with a warning, so even if we get caught, you don't have to worry."

"So, you goin'?" Virgil shook his head. Remus raised his eyebrows, "You sure, emo?" Virgil shook his head again, this time slower.

"Well, skipping it is then," Damon walked out of the class as the other two followed. Virgil didn't complain, but it's not like he could anyways, "Around this time, most of the school hall monitors are at the cafeteria or the classrooms, so we can just walk out. If it's not a bad day that is, but even then it's typically just Oliver, who will let you go if you bribe him. Eight dollars usually does it," they were in the door when they heard a voice behind them and froze.

"Did you think you could just skip without me?"

They turned around to be faced with Roman with crossed arms.

"I mean, yeah, kinda," Remus said.

Roman chuckled, "Just because you are the 'Bad Twin' doesn't mean I am not getting sick of this school. So, how about you let me go with you and I won't tell anyone," he held out his hand. Remus stared at it for a while before spitting on his and shaking Roman's. Really, Roman should know better.

"Deal."

"Great, the twins together. Just what I needed," Damon grumbled, and Virgil couldn't help but nod his head in agreement.

"What do you think you're doing? Also, Roman, how could you?"

"Ah shit, not another one," Damon made an actual physically pained face that that.

"Logan, where's Patton?" Roman looked around.

"In the class, like you all should be," Logan pushed up his glasses.

Remus leaned over to the three, "Let's just keeps walking and pretend we didn't hear him," so, they turned around and walked to the school entrance, ignoring Logan's remarks and shouts as he followed them while the others tried to suppress their giggles, Remus especially. It was about 3 minutes after exiting the school and Logan realized there was no chance he could go back now, gave up, and tagged along. They all talked over where they should go, but Virgil's suggestion of going to the old abandoned church won by a majority vote, which meant that Damon, Remus and Virgil were all for it and Logan and Roman tried to protest but failed. The church was about eight minutes from the school. Neither of them knew why the church was abandoned, or how long it was, but nevertheless, it was pretty cool. Virgil didn't have a lot of time to explore the town, so walking around was refreshing. Well, it would be if it wasn't so damn hot.

"God fucking damn it, how can you walk in a leather jacket in this weather and not sweat?" Damon squinted his eyes at Remus.

"I don't sweat, it's disgusting."

Roman laughed, "So that's disgusting to you? Sweating? Nevermind that, how does that even work? You just don't sweat 'cause you don't want to?" he said with a mocking tone.

Remus gave him a deadpan look, "Yeah. Sweating is disgusting, so I don't do it."

Roman didn't know how to respond to that. Neither did any of them, except for Logan, "Well, there is a condition called anhidrosis, which is a reduced ability or inability to produce sweat. Is it possible that you have that?"

"No, I think I just don't like sweating," Remus shook his head.

"Can we stop talking about sweating and instead focus on the fact that the church is surrounded by a fence?" Damon gestured his hand towards the old church which came into view, "I mean, of course, we can just climb over it, but it has spikes, so..."

"Is there a hole under the fence? Or maybe in it?" Logan pushed his glasses up. Damon looked at him.

"It's iron, try again, sherlock," the group walked closer to the church. Remus was already touching the fence, trying to climb over it while Roman tried to stop him and get him back down. They all looked around when they heard a phone ringing. Logan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He sighed and put the phone to his ear.

"Yes, Patton?" the other four tried to be as quiet as possible, "Ah, no, I am afraid I'm not at school, I..." Logan looked between all of them, settling at Damon who was mouthing 'You're sick', if Virgil guessed correctly, "I got nauseous, so the teachers made me go home," there is a bit of silence, only a muffled quiet voice coming from the phone that neither of them could decipher, "Yes, I would appreciate. I apologize for making you anxious...Yes, of course. See you after school," he ended the call and put the phone back in his back pocket.

"You didn't mute your phone, are you fucking mental?"

"Remus, shut the fuck up, anyways, do any of you see a gate?" after Damon stopped talking Virgil pointed at Logan. The other four looked at him confused. He gestured for Logan to move, then pointed again. The four looked in the said direction, "Oh, there it is. Does anyone know how to pick locks?"

"I do," said two voices at once. Remus and Logan looked at each other, "To be honest, I am not surprised," Logan said.

"To be honest, I am pleasantly surprised. What else can you do with those hands, nerd?"

"Right, well, Remus, I am sure you have a bobby pin in that monstrosity you call hair," Damon scrunched up his nose.

Remus pulled out two bobby pins out of his bun, "You're just jelly of my long shiny locks."

"That greasy thing hasn't been washed in three years, I am not jealous. Trust me."

Remus and Logan walked over to the lock, "Padlocks are easy to picklock, this should only take a couple seconds," Logan takes on of the bobby pins out of Remus' hand and puts it in the lock. They can't really see what the two are doing, but as promised, they hear the padlock open. Remus throws the padlock away and Loga opens the gate. Remus is the first one to run in, walking to the front door. The rest followed and quickly caught up with him.

The church itself had two large towers on either side. It had a stone structure and the left tower was missing a roof on one side. It had long stained glass windows with a pointed arch, some of the lower ones were broken. The right tower and what had remained of the left had a sharply pointed spire with a cross on top.

"I am assuming this is gothic revival church since an original gothic church would be more broken than this."

"Who cares, let's go inside!" Roman was already opening the door. Surprisingly, the door was open. They stepped inside. The inside was massive. It was long with columns on either side. Instead of the ceiling was a ribbed vault, "Holy shit..." Roman's voice echoed through the church. The crunching of the leaves on the floor echoed as well. Everything echoed.

"Remus, if you scream I swear to god..." Damon glared at the said man. Remus just smiled and shrugged. Then he screamed. After everyone was done covering their ears and the echo slowly fainted, the four began yelling at him and Damon pushed him away, to which Remus just laughed.

They explored the church for a while, which involved Remus mostly hanging off the statues and drawing on the walls with pens, Logan taking pictures and analyzing the interior, Roman standing behind the podium and preaching about Beyonce and Damon and Virgil messing with the organ. After that, they went out in the back where the graveyard was.

"I bet the church was closed down because it was haunted. Do you think someone was killed here?"

Damon looked at Remus, "It's an old abandoned church, of course someone was killed here."

"Do you think there are ghosts?" Roman looked back at the angel statue covered in moss that they passed a while ago.

"Ghosts don't exist."

"Of course they do, specs," Roman spat back.

"Is that so? Do you have any physical proof to back up your statement?"

"No, that's kinda the point of ghosts."

"My dudes, I think I just found a grave robbed grave," they turned to look in Remus' direction. The said man was looming over a seemingly empty grave. When they took a closer look at it they noticed that the casket was opened and almost invisible under the dirt that fell back in the hole. The decomposed remains of the women in it looked terrifying, "That's, like, so cool. I wish that were me."

Virgil didn't think it was cool. Actually, he thought it was revolting and unnerving. The thought of him dying and someone just digging up his corpse to look for something to make money with is disturbing. He stepped away from the grave. He didn't feel safe anymore, instead, it was replaced with an eerie feeling that someone was watching them. He needed to get out of here. He pulled out his phone and began typing. He tapped on Roman's shoulder and the shorter man eventually turned around and read the message, 'u wanna go to dennys? i havent eaten anything all day and im starving'

Roman turned to the others, "Hey, wanna go to Dennys? I am starting to feel kinda hungry."

"Glad you mentioned it, my stomach acids are literally starting to eat me up from the inside," Remus turned around to face the other two.

"Yeah, sure."

"That is satisfactory."

#when you walk away (nothing more to say)#sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sanders sides #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #analodemus #slow burn #the slowest burn

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dungeonsanddragonsfifthedition · 6 years

Text

tazchat: double whammy

okay so i’ve been havin computer troubles lately and i wanted to make sure the readmore works so i had to wait to upload these, right. but. anyway. if you know me irl and you see this you are legally allowed to kill me.

i’m almost done with the bank episode, but. y’all. there’s two whole episodes before that. we’re just now getting to the really good shit. but the shit that came before? also fucking good. here’s that.

and now, what about two of you have been waiting for: Welcome Back To Bee’s Journey To Self-Acceptance Re: Their Deep Attachment And Sense Of Relation To Travis McElroy’s Self-Insert DND OC

—“i wish i had pictures but at least i have my memorieeeees” —LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH —i love weird all yankovic’s song paradoxes —magnus calling the boys “fellas” and “boys” all the time is a speech quirk i forgot about. he addresses them as a group more than the other two and. hm. —you know what else i forgot about magnus? he values honesty to a point he doesn’t always live up to? but when he does... boy HOWDY. this whole roswell exchange is SO in-character and i love it. —aaand (this is a magnus monologue!!! listen. listen) he is All About People even if he isn’t necessarily great with them? he knows that nobody’ll survive past 12 but he won’t let them die in the collapse/fire —wait. oh my god. that’s why! i guess! because that’s what happened in RR. fuck? it’s salt shaker level implication, if intentional, and i love it. —chekov’s bush —“oh, the labor—“ / [magnus starts digging with his hands] / “i cast healing word on taako” PEAK THB DYNAMIC —“i put the bomb in a DIFFERENT POCKET than steven” —ALPHABET PUZZLE —oh my god they just blow up the room GRIFFIN: how do you feel? you’ve died three times. it hasn’t been great. TRAVIS: this is how magnus would live his life anyways? he’s emboldened by being able to fuck up CLINT: merle’s not a fan JUSTIN: Just Another Day At The Office, Babey. but he’s fuckin disoriented. —just highlighting that bit which has been highlighted so many times before because it’s so good because we stack up: Oh That’s Why Magnus Made The Chalice, merle death irony, and Justin Predicts The Stolen Century —A L P H A B E T P U Z Z L E —fuckin love the implication that this mine intentionally hired one person for every letter of the alphabet —DISARM / OPEN —“you guys are adorable right now :D” —I’m Gonna Call It Good Ice —token arc elevator —The Bugs Appreciate His Folksy Charm —magnus is exactly that one andy samberg snl skit about that Actor Who I Won’t Name Because He Committed A Literal Hate Crime talking to animals. —Another Fine Miller™️ Product —Merle Fucks Up His Nature Check And Clint Fucks Up Justin’s Mic —[merle solves the whole issue] / TAAKO: another great adventure, magnus. —every time they say umbrella on this show i am reminded that i apparently say umbrella wrong, but, look, they say it the same way!!! —also the imagery of merle just whistlin as magnus and taako hide under their shield/umbrella is so cuts —♪ To Heaven We’re Going On A Trip Together ♪ —CHRIS ISAAK —“dad , i don’t give two shits” —three bubbles —Teef —Oh Worm? —all of you hold hands [...] and you are dead. —Oops-A-Doodle! —oh my god it’s the diamond episode —“i have 24 hours, i don’t know if i can learn to play jock jams on piano” —“oh, i remember you, little ren!” lyin ass but it’s cute —“so the cooking show is on ...Hiatus” —Help Yourself Cast Yourself Into Magic Legend —the ash character voice is really familiar and i can’t place from where? i think it’s the john voice —HELL YEAH IT’LL BE COVERED IN THE SEMINAR —“my lawyers have told me that if there is no tomorrow this payment is null and void” —“that’s a one perception” / “EVERYTHING’S COOL, DON’T EVEN WORRY BOUT IT.” —I DON’T KNOW YOU FROM JAKE! —oh fuck there IS a zone of truth in this arc. —Istus? Maybe Christmas? Biscuits? —clint thought bjork was pronounced bork —“listen skipping niceties is our spe-ci-ality.” —“did you use cold butter or just stick with room temp?” / “mostly just scone magic!” / “not the baking convo i was hoping for, but.” —TURN RIGHT. TURNRIGHT. Tuuuurn Riiiiight. —“it’s my prophecy. i earned it. through lying.” —black opal. fuck off griffin. —“an ocean of tar [...] a world covered in ash.” / THERE IS ALWAYS A THIRD OPTION which none of the dumbasses on this show could figure out beforehand because plot —i burp and small prophecy comes out. —wait no i wanna talk about like. lup and lucretia are both very smart women who are extremely myopic but like. what if we had both. you dumb ass motherfuckers. i love you. —“tell em it’s a bank holiday. hug day?” / “it IS hug day.” —magnus nerds out over the architecture in spite of disaster. hell yes —MERLE ABOUT TO MAKE HIS FIRST RELIGION CHECK — comin up on junebug! i just remembered —“can’t call up istus, like new phone who dis” —Fantasy Shorts —magnus chasing a rag like a kid chasing a butterfly is SO GOOD —clint wants to play doctor strange so bad. @mcu recast now —“is it alive?” / “it’s a skeleton.” / “yeah, but it’s dnd.” —caleb cleveland teen cop —“SKELETONS CAN MOVE IN THIS GAME, JUSTIN!” / “so can rugs, travis, watch aladdin.” —“...it’s seventh level necromancy.” —the ONE TIME griffin gives a shit about casting time is when clint tries to necromance asdhfjkll —“are you about to make a joke about the song luca?” / “...no.” —“it can be upsetting to see a Living Skeleton Man!” —“what loop? what are you talking about?” me when people first proposed the twin theory —Griffin Wants Magnus To Take The Chalice So Bad And I Love It

libra season

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asflowersfade · 7 years

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Scribble-Doodle: Armed and Dangerous

Teen Lightwoods. Mushy stuff, lotsa love. Did I mention mush? Mush and fluff!

Broken jaw. Broken wrist. Black and blue all over. Ow. Stupid.

Girl, you really did it this time, Isabelle groans silently as she tries to ignore all the aches and pains in her bruised and battered body. Not even iratzes could heal all of her injuries at once. Broken bones first, the medic said.

And all that just because she wanted to have fun at a Downworlder rave. Shadowhunters welcome, just without weapons. And she was stupid, stupid, stupid enough to actually follow the rules for once because she didn’t want to cause trouble. She just wanted to have fun. Next time, she’ll put on armored underwear, at least!

The door of her bedroom opens without knocking - Alec and Jace, of course. They - all of them! - really need to learn how to knock now that they’re of an age when barging in on someone unannounced might lead to rather embarrassing situations. And not just of the sexual nature. Embarrassing situations like this one, for example.

“Wow, Iz! Is that a map of New York on your back?” Jace comments on her beaten state. “Because that blue spot around your kidneys sure looks like Manhattan!”

“Oh, shut up!” she snaps, annoyed. She’s tired, hurt - and stuck in that stupid t-shirt that caught around her ears and she just can’t lift her arms any higher.

“Here, let me,” Alec says softly and hurries over to help her pull the t-shirt down.

Muttering a thanks - her words are still a bit slurred because of that damn broken jaw! - Izzy blushes a little. She feels so awkward. And not because her brothers caught her in her undies; they are all soldiers, they’ve seen each other naked - and more often than not covered in bodily fluids - more times than she cares to count. She feels awkward because she let two dumb weres pummel her black and blue. She’ll never live it down.

“So,” Jace starts, stepping forward with something in his hands, a box, neatly wrapped, “we heard about what happened--”

“I get it! I was an idiot!” Izzy cuts him off, pulling the hem of her t-shirt down sharply and jerking away from Alec. “I didn’t mind my business, I waded into a fight unarmed and I got my ass handed to me. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch those two jerks hurt that girl,” she insists, lifting her chin defiantly - which she immediately regrets because her jaw starts hurting again!

Alec takes a step back and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, Iz! Nobody’s saying otherwise!”

She looks from one to another and sees that they mean it. There’s no mocking glee in their faces, only concern. It takes the wind out of her righteous anger and she slumps. Sighing, she carefully sits down on the edge of her bed. She’s only sixteen but right now, she feels eighty.

“Well, it was stupid,” Isabelle mutters. “I left all my blades at home because it was a ‘no weapons’ event. I forgot that ‘no weapons’ didn’t mean no claws or lycanthropy, obviously. Next time, I’m taking a knife with me, even if I have to hide it in my butt crack!”

Alec chokes, wide-eyed and horrified at the prospect.

Jace grins. “Ha! I would love to see that. But,” he adds and steps forward once again, “it’s actually why we are here. This” --he lifts the box-- “was supposed to be a birthday present from us but considering what happened last night, Alec and I, we thought we better give it to you now, before someone knocks your teeth out and you turn all ugly.”

Alec elbows him in the ribs. He grabs the box from Jace’s hands, then he turns to Izzy and with a soft smile, he hands her the box. “Happy early birthday.”

Isabelle stares at them in surprise. Slowly, she accepts the box and carefully unwraps it. When she lifts the lid, she gasps. On a bed of red velvet, a bracelet is lying, a beautiful silvery thing in the shape of a snake. Carefully, she takes it out, then sets the box aside.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

“And cool, too!” Jace adds, almost bouncing on his toes. “Try it on - and use your right arm!”

Isabelle complies. And her eyes widen because the thing feels alive.

“Right,” Jace says, “and now focus on it and think ‘whip’ - and don’t freak out!”

Once again, Izzy complies - and when the jewelry starts moving, slithering down her wrist and into her hand, turning from a silvery snake into a silvery whip, she gasps and jumps to her feet.

“Didn’t I say it was cool?” Jace grins.

Smiling, Alec explains. “It’s made from electrum. It can turn into a whip or a staff--”

“Or it can simply be a really cool piece of jewelry!” Jace jumps in.

“--that depends on what you want it to be,” Alec finishes not paying attention to his parabatai.

Enchanted, Izzy lets the whip dance on the floor, swinging it from side to side, causing it to undulate like a real snake. Then she jerks her wrist, thinking “staff”, and the whip turns into a very long stick with a snake head at the end - and she knocks over her bedside lamp with it, shattering it.

“Oops!” she utters but she’s grinning widely, not caring about the broken lamp or her hurting jaw. Because this is way too--

“Cool, huh?” Jace explodes, excitedly.

“Say ‘cool’ one more time and I swear I’ll strangle you!” Alec warns, irritated.

But Jace’s right, it really is cool. Amazing. Beautiful. And certainly expensive.

Izzy looks at them. “Guys, this must’ve cost a fortune,” she whispers, touched. She knows very well just how much electrum costs, how precious it is.

Jace shrugs nonchalantly, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it. Sure, for the foreseeable future, we’ll live on nothing but stale bread and water, but--”

Alec slaps him upside the head, glaring. Then he turns to Izzy. “Don’t listen to him. Yeah, it wasn’t cheap but, Izzy, nothing is more important to us than your safety. If you had it on you last night, the whole situation might’ve gone down differently.”

Izzy looks down at her new weapon and turns it from a staff into a whip and back into a bracelet with nothing but a thought. And then she blinks hard because this was so nice of them!

And so she throws herself at them and pulls them both into a big hug, damn her aching body. She loves them with all her heart!

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice thick. “Thank you so much.”

They hug her back and Jace even kisses the top of her head, the softie. “You’re welcome. We’re just glad you’re okay, Izzy,” he whispers. “You really gave us a scare there.”

“Sorry,” she whispers back.

“Yeah,” Alec says, patting her on the back, “just don’t do it again, deal?”

Grinning into his shoulder, Izzy replies softly, “Deal.”

#scribbledoodle #isabelle lightwood #alec lightwood #jace herondale #parabatai #my fics #my shadowhunters fics #my lightwood fics

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otteron-the-sun · 7 years

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[5] Two side of a coin

State : In progress Characters : Moobin x Rocky x OC (Mee Joo) Genre : fluff / a bit of angst (it’s starting guys) Featured : Poly!Rockbin and College!AU Summary : Being a college student seems to be easier for your love life, little did I know that a bet between two guys won’t make everything goes so smoothly after all. Word count : 2,300+ Side note : Ok, I love this chapter, I loved writing it, and it’s finally starting to have a bit of sense (also I write more than the first chapters oops), but yeah, I hope you’ll like it as much as I do ♥

Previous part

For the last two weeks, after the first date, a question occurred my mind,every single day. Since Rocky me took me to the first date, plan everything for the afternoon, shouldn’t it be my turn to take care of the planning of the next date? I didn’t really know what I should do in this case, because of how little the number of date I had was. Almost every day I hesitated to send a text to Rocky, asking if I should plan the date to a date that was good for him. But I didn’t, because it was a bit awkward to ask him like that. Even though “awkward” was a thing I do quite a lot with him. It was a normal Tuesday morning, in class, just on the same table as my best friend. It wasn’t the best part of the year, having our end of the semester finals and trying to sort out our life in general. It was the kind of days where we were only running thanks to coffee, and no one would be really surprised if we learned that some of us are more on drugs to keep going at this period of the year. Like, yeah, almost relatable dude. For once, though, I was keeping up with this time way better than the past years, I wasn’t asleep in the first hours of morning, and Shin-Ae asleep the afternoon. We just seemed to be fine, just drinking three coffee per day. And to add to our joy, the morning helped us to learn the fact that our afternoon classes were cancelled this very morning, since our teacher was sick. How things could be better today, honestly. Just the mere thought of having an afternoon off to go home and study a bit more for the finals was a thing I could’ve only dreamed of before. To be honest, the past years, I would have taken this free afternoon to go have some times with friends around the town. Like grabbing a coffee with a few friends of my class or things like that. But no. Not anymore. The end of the morning went on like usual, with a few students sleeping on the last row, some others doodling in their notebook rather than listening to the class, and some others nodding and taking notes. And to be realistic, Shin-Ae was the doodler one, and I was the annoying little nodder by her side. She knew that, if I was taking notes in a class, she could do whatever she wanted and ask for it after, like we always did, one for the other. Never one of us were actually using the other to take all the notes to do nothing in class, but it was more like an exchange of information. Lunch break came pretty fast, allowing us to either go home and eat our own food, with proper balance of things, or staying at the cafeteria, with a quite questioning menu and dishes. And with that way of thinking, the choice was quickly made for everyone. It wasn’t that bad, it’s just that, some dishes we had at the cafeteria in the past years were particularly questionable. Not to be mean either, but seriously, who thought that some of them were a good idea? Walking down the way to go back to my apartment, with Shin-Ae by my side for once. The walk was pretty silent, both on our phone. Not the awkward and embarrassing silence I could usually create, but more like a comfortable silence. Nothing needed to be said out loud. And if anything to say came in our mind, we probably pushed it in the back of our head to talk about it while eating. During the time I was cooking something, I realized that I wasn’t really used to have two people to feed and not only myself. Jeez, I should ask people to come over more often than that or I’ll end really lonely someday. Maybe. Yeah, probably. And while I was busying myself in the kitchen, Shin-Ae was just chilling on my couch, both of our phones in hand, probably having some fun talking to people as me. Couldn’t blame her honestly. At least, I couldn’t, until she let out a little whimper, before shouting to me, without even moving. “ GUESS WHO IS INVITED TO WATCH MOONBIN AND ROCKY DANCE THIS AFTERNOON!” I sighed heavily, coming back to the coffee table to put down the tray with our plates and everything to eat, before quirking an eyebrow. “Wow, tell me, great friend, who’s the idiot that is going to hang out with my two future husbands this afternoon? To know who I have to defeat, of course.” If she couldn’t hear my sarcasm, I’ll probably gave up on her. I didn’t really care about who was the lucky girl who had a chance to hang out with them. And watch them dance. Absolutely not jealous. At all. “It’s you, you stupid, they both asked you to come when I told them we didn’t have class. Oh, and I accepted for you. I know, I’m fantastic, you’re welcome.” oh. OH. OH JEEZ. How to feel really stupid in one lesson. At this point, I didn’t even know if I should be thankful to her because she did all that, but at the same time, it meant that I’ll be just with two of my frickin’ crushes, at the same time. Watching them dance, appreciating all heavenly good they look. It also meant not studying, but that’s a thing I could do at night, instead of sleeping. Alright. Not panicking. Not freaking out. Everything is going to work ok. “Oh. Okay, thank you for planning my afternoon then. I guess you’re just gonna spend some time with my baby best friend instead of studying the new chapter with me then.” Yeah, my whole point here is to keep a cool façade in front of her. She just smirked, adding the fact that she’ll take responsibility if we fail at this chapter. Wow, so nice. SO. NICE. Only an hour after, I ended up in front of the practice room of the dancing student. I wasn’t only panicking, I was really questioning my motives of coming to them to watch them. But obviously, since Shin-Ae told them, as me, that I’ll be there, I couldn’t just cancel, in less than an hour. It wouldn’t have been really serious to do that this way. So here I was, standing like a statue. For the thousandth time, I rearranged my flannel on my shoulder, asking myself if it was alright, before doing my ponytail again to be sure it was perfect. And then, my flannel again. For once, I wasn’t wearing any high-waisted pants, just some black leggings with a white crop top under my red flannel, and some converse. Such a casual, cute, and a bit sexy outfit. Why was I wearing that?! OH. MY. GOD. I was really close to facepalming myself now. Deciding to leave my terror aside, I knocked two time on the wooden door, waiting for an answer while I was switching from a feet to the other. But instead of just a “yeah”, or a “come in”, the door swung open quickly just in front of me, making me jump. Sometimes I tend to forgot how lively and dynamic Rocky is, especially when it’s about spending some time together. And just behind, I can’t see Moonbin, stretching carefully. At the same time as I try to not drool on the floor just at this sight. Oops. Without hesitation, Rocky pulled me in the room, always so excited to talk, asking how I have been during the last two weeks, when we couldn’t see each other a lot because of school. Meanwhile we were both talking excitedly about the two weeks, Binnie was there, left aside, knowing the two stories since he never stopped talking to one or the other during the two weeks. Except the beginning, which was, not really surprisingly, awkward. After I just sat in the back to watch them dance, everything seemed a lot more relaxed, the both them in their environment. It was their world, I couldn’t deny that. And it was really beautiful, just watching them be. They’re having fun, enjoying the company of the other, and I wasn’t too much in here. The mood was so light and so nice. Suddenly, Binnie stopped dancing to turn around and look at me. Even if he could see me in the mirror in front of us, but anyway. A sly smirk appeared on his face and he extend a hand to me. “SanHa told me you are a good dancer, and even if you were quite great at the party, I want to really see it. Please?” And then again, he switched to his puppycat smile. How could I resist to that? And in all honesty, I knew SanHa must’ve dropped the hint before, that’s why my outfit was practical enough to dance with them. Even if I’d take a sweatpants over a legging anytime. But yeah, less cute. I got up and walked over to them, poking Moonbin’s nose, smiling softly “This kind of smile is cheating Binnie”. I stuck out my tongue to him before a little giggle, without seeing how flustered it got him. I stretched a bit, just testing a little my now-low flexibility. Rocky jogged to the stereo, choosing a song on his phone to see how I’ll dance to that. Especially when I hear one of my favorite song blast through the speaker. Well, I’m kind of happy that he’ll remember me telling about this song when we were at the coffee shop, the first time. I started to move, slowly first but gaining confidence quickly, getting a bit faster. I had to admit that I was kinda shy to show them in the first place, but I forgot their presence to dance freely on the beat of the song that I liked way too much. I closed my eyes and that was the mistake I made… Eyes closed, I couldn’t see the look on their face. Rocky, smiling widely and clutching his chest at the feeling of his heart beating faster. Or Moonbin, smiling softly at my figure, growing fonder of me at each step I took. But at the second the song stopped and I opened my eyes again, I just saw two smiles, and an excited puppy Rocky who jogged to me, before jumping up and down with my hands in his. “It was so great Mee ! You should dance with us more ! Pleaaaase !” I just patted his shoulder, with a laugh. I removed my flannel to tie it around my hips, adding my hands on each sides, daring them to dance with me for the rest of the afternoon. And they took the challenge really seriously. As I walked home, Rocky by my side, I just couldn’t stop smiling, all happy of the time spent together. And like the last date, he slowly took my hand, intertwining our fingers, in a way that my heart skipped a beat before going twice his normal speed. If only he knew how this little kind of actions made my heart flutter, and my cheeks heat up. If only he knew the way he make me feel. But as we made our way to the front door of my apartment, finally letting one of them enter more than the hall of the building, I thought that, maybe he knew. And the only reason he kept doing it, was because he felt the same way about it. Wow, hold your horses and think about it just a second. We are talking about the popular Rocky, the crush of half the girl of this campus. Not even talking about the other girls on the rest of the country. How Rocky, the popular, kind, sweet, super handsome could like me? Well, he’s holding my hand but that’s not really something big, is it? Before going any further in my thoughts, he poked my cheek, in front of my door. “So, Mee, it was kind of our third date.. I walked you home and all..” “Yes, I think I was pretty aware about all that.” “Is it the time where I can kiss you goodbye and ask you to be my girlfriend at the same time?” Everything froze, my breath got caught up in my throat, will my eyes were widening. And I made the shyest nod I ever did, lips slightly ajar before he caught them with his. With a hand on my cheek, and on of mine on his chest, all of this was so softly executed. So natural but so new, we both had closed our eyes the second our lips met. Nothing in it was random or amateur. The shyness slowly disappearing on both side, his second hand find my waist to pull me carefully closer. And when the kiss was broken by his smile, I just became aware of the lack of air in my lungs. All my question were erased from my head, and I felt so light. “Will you be my girlfriend then?” “Honestly Rocky, do you really need an answer for that?” “No, but I want to hear it..” I whispered a little “yes”, before leaving a little peck on his lips. And a big smile came across his face, holding me close for a few minutes, in silence. Just enjoying to be this close with each other. Eventually, he let me go, letting me go back home, to finally take a shower and start studying before eating to continue even after dinner. That was my plan before seeing a few texts on my phone.

[18:46] Rocky : Binnie, I won the bet, she is my girlfriend. I’m sorry you lost ㅋㅋㅋ

And everything fell apart. I was just a bet then. How surprising.

Next part >

#moonbin #rocky #rockbin #moonrock #poly!moonrock #poly!rockbin #kpop #fanfic #astro #astro fanfic #astro fluff #astro college #rocky fluff #moonbin fluff #fluff

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bibliosexxual · 8 years

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accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?” me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic” boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

“No. I wasn’t finished,” Stiles says. “We also ate lunch together last Monday. I forgot to bring my lunch, so I was just eating a bag of chips from the vending machine and he offered me half his tuna sandwich.”

It had been one of the nicest office lunch breaks he’d ever had, actually. Stiles was sitting on the low brick wall at the edge of the picnic area, and to his surprise, Derek sat down there, too, in his probably-thousand-dollar suit, while Stiles gaped at him a little for doing it.

Derek had then continued to sit there even after giving away the sandwich. It had been clear from the way he kept glancing at Stiles that he didn’t know what to say but he wanted to say something, so Stiles had prompted, “Got any weekend plans?” and Derek had said he didn’t have any, so Stiles had rambled for a while about his weekend plans, which involved going down to San Francisco for the weekend for a Bastille concert. Derek sat there and listened attentively the whole time, which, in Stiles’ experience, not many people would do. He also said he didn’t know who Bastille was. That was a little surprising, but then again, Stiles supposed Derek didn’t have a lot of time to absorb pop culture, what with running the foundation and owning a dog and all.

He’d obviously had a bit of time at that moment, though, so Stiles had pulled out his phone and played Derek some of their songs, and Derek had nodded his head subtly to the beat and smiled a little and instantly made Stiles’ crush on him a whole lot more intense.

“And that’s it,” he concludes now. “So do you think he’s into me at all?“

"How should I know? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Stiles mutters, thinking about all the times she’s guessed ahead of time what he was going to get her for her birthday and all the times she’s taken one look at him and known with an uncanny certainty that he’s just gotten laid or, more commonly, that he’s just spent the whole night playing video games and ignoring life’s responsibilities.

Now Lydia sighs. “Look, all I know is, office romances are tricky. Even if he is interested, he’d probably feel like he can’t ask you out because of the power dynamic. You’ll have to make the first move.”

“Yeah, right,” Stiles snorts.

Lydia raises her eyebrows like, I thought so. “Stiles…” she says, “as your friend who’s concerned for your happiness, I’m going to ask you something: Have you gone on a single date in the last month? The last six months?”

Stiles resists the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze. She could be a world-class interrogator if she ever wanted a career change. “Okay, but… I’ve been busy, okay? It has nothing to do with Der— Mr. Hale. As if. That’s ridiculous. Totally ludicrous.”

“I see,” Lydia says, unimpressed.

The next thing he knows, she’s installing a dating app on his phone and filling in a profile that’s a hundred times more charming and put-together than anything Stiles could’ve come up with on his own and finagling a promise out of him that he’ll at least give it a decent try.

Stiles gives his word, but privately he wonders if he can keep it.

It was actually Derek who inspired Stiles to apply to work at the Howls for Change Foundation to begin with. The local newspaper interviewed him a couple of years ago about the foundation, back when it was just starting up. Stiles had been just skimming, not planning to sit down and read the paper for half an hour, but that’s just what he ended up doing, drawn in by Derek’s interview—his enthusiasm and love for wolves, his eloquence in replying to the journalist’s questions, the accompanying picture of him… He was in jogging clothes, crouched on a trail out in the woods somewhere and hugging his German Shepherd while flashing the camera a rare, genuine smile so bright it made Stiles feel warm all over, and yeah, Stiles applied to this job about 75% because he loved wildlife conservation and about 25% because he wanted to see Derek Hale smile like that again, and possibly be the one to make him do it.

The feeling has only gotten stronger since then.

Derek likes to act like he’s just one of the employees, even though he’s not only the boss but also the organization’s founder. He has his own corner office, but he mainly just uses it for meeting with local policymakers and other bigwigs. The rest of the time, he has a cubicle where he plugs away on his laptop or just sits contemplatively, eating an apple or listening to music on an old CD player he keeps in the top drawer. He eats lunch outside in the picnic area with his employees, too, when it’s nice out. He brings bag lunches from home, which Stiles finds oddly charming.

Still, Stiles can see Derek is set apart. No matter how much he acts like he’s just an employee, no one ever forgets he’s the boss. When he walks into the break room, a hush always falls, and if they were talking about something gossipy or off-color before he walked in, they always hastily change the subject to something more workplace-appropriate and bland, like the weather or what’s for lunch, and Derek nods politely at them, gets his coffee, and leaves without a word. Stiles thinks he looks kind of lonely. He always comes off as hardworking and unpretentious, but he also doesn’t seem that fond of small talk or smiling, and it clearly makes a lot of people feel awkward around him.

For all the great work Derek is doing in the conservation world, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends.

Even so, the thought of Stiles asking him out and Derek actually saying yes… Well. It’s laughable, really.

So Lydia says, “Promise me you’ll at least try the app?” and Stiles says he will.

Two weeks and several mediocre first dates later, Stiles is sitting in a budget meeting at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, poking at his phone under the table. He doesn’t make any attempt to stay on task first; whenever Greenberg starts talking in these meetings, like clockwork Stiles always gets this unbearable itch to look at his phone or pick at his nails or even just stare blankly out the window, anything but listen to him.

He deletes a dozen spam emails and replies to a couple punny texts from Scott from last night before he finally, reluctantly thumbs over to his unread messages on the dating app. By this point he’s not very optimistic. Turns out he was right to be, because someone has sent him an unsolicited dick pic.

Instinctively he sinks down a little lower in his seat. It turns out to be an unnecessary precaution, though. One glance around confirms it: the woman to his left is absorbed in doodling Power Rangers on her notepad, and the man to his right is gazing straight ahead into space, so zoned out he’s practically comatose.

Stiles looks back down at his phone.

It’s a nice dick pic, objectively. Very artistic, very tasteful. The guy, whose head is cropped out of the photo, is sprawled on his back on a turquoise sheet, soft sunlight falling on his naked torso, one long-fingered hand curled lazily around his erection. A+ for aesthetics.

Still, Stiles did not wake up this morning after only three hours of sleep (what can he say, he got distracted by Wikipedia again) just so he could see a complete stranger’s junk.

The sad thing is, this isn’t even the first time this has happened, or the third, or the fifth… Would it kill these guys to say hello first?

Stiles screenshots it, then pastes it into a new email to Lydia (he’s been keeping her apprised of his dating app adventures, at her insistence). He captions it with a grumpy, “guess how my morning is going.”

She’s the one who thought this app would be such a great idea in the first place. Maybe now, face-to-face with what Stiles has had to put up with on a daily basis for the past two weeks, she’ll finally admit the whole online dating thing was a bad idea and stop shooting him pitying looks whenever the subject of Derek Hale comes up.

After that, he blocks the dick-pic-sender and puts his phone away. Greenberg is still talking, still meticulously going over lots of hard-to-read charts, and Stiles’ gaze inevitably wanders to fall on Derek instead. Derek, who’s sitting at the head of the table, looking at something on his phone and not even trying to hide it.

Stiles supposes if you’re the founder of the company, you don’t have to pretend to be paying attention while Greenberg talks.

Derek’s phone buzzes in his hand; Stiles can just barely hear it. Derek taps at the screen while lifting his glass of water to his mouth, and then he must read something shocking because he simultaneously spits out his water all over his notes and starts coughing furiously, doubling over like he’s dying, his phone clattering to the table.

Greenberg momentarily stops his monotone speech, hovering like he’s not sure what to do, while pretty much everyone around the table freezes up except for the vice president, Boyd, who’s sitting next to him and never seems even remotely fazed by anything. He pounds Derek heartily on the back a couple times.

It seems to help. After a long half minute, the coughing fit passes. Derek looks up, red-faced, and rasps, “I’m okay.”

Hesitantly, Greenberg starts talking again. Derek straightens his tie and puts his phone away, and Stiles’ fellow employees go back to slumping in their seats with blank, I’m-bored-out-of-my-mind expressions on their faces, and that’s that.

Stiles can’t help wondering what it was Derek saw that got such a reaction out of him. Whatever it was, it’s guaranteed to be more interesting than this meeting.

Ah, well. Stiles will probably never know.

Or so he thinks until about half an hour later, when his phone buzzes with a new email from Derek—the only email he’s ever gotten from Derek, not counting the company-wide newsletters and memos.

It’s a good thing Stiles finishes pouring his coffee before taking a look at it, because otherwise he probably would have scalded the skin of his hand off and spilled coffee all over his shoes and the break room floor in the process.

The subject line reads, “re: guess how my morning is going.”

Stiles freezes.

Blinks.

Closes out of his email app and opens it again.

The email is still there. It’s still titled "re: guess how my morning is going.” Stiles didn’t misread it.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t breathe for a solid five minutes while he lets the mingled surges of horror and adrenaline wash over him. It’s like one of those nightmares he used to have in high school where he’d stand up in class to give a presentation, only to look down and realize he was inexplicably buck-ass naked and everyone was laughing at him.

Finally he sucks in enough air to gasp, "Oh god. I’m dead. I’m so dead.” There’s no one else in the break room, but he still says it. It seems like the kind of momentous occasion that needs stating out loud to the universe.

Then he chugs his entire mug of coffee and speed-walks as casually as possible down the hall. A few people glance at him curiously from their cubicles, probably because he’s blushing so hard he looks like a tomato on the verge of a nervous breakdown, or possibly because no one runs in this office, anywhere, for any reason. Dignity is the name of the game. Stiles has none.

Stiles ignores them all in favor of diving into Lydia’s office and slamming the door shut behind him. He doesn’t care what work she might be doing; this is more important. This is a crisis.

She must get some sense of that from the look on his face, or maybe from the way he’s slumped back against the door and panting, because she doesn’t snap at him or even look that annoyed.

Stiles waves his phone at her and tries, in a rambling and adrenaline-fueled outburst, to explain. He’s not sure how much of it is actually anything bordering on English, but he thinks he ultimately conveys the important bits.

While he talks, Lydia rests her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers, and looks intrigued. “So,” she says when he finally runs out of breath, “what did Derek actually say?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles says, only a little hysterically.

“You didn’t read the email?“

Stiles shakes his head, sheepish. She’s undoubtedly judging him so hard right now, and he knows, okay. He knows.

Lydia lets out one of her trademark "why am I surrounded by incompetence” sighs and holds out her hand for his phone. Stiles meekly hands it over.

Lydia unlocks it without asking him for the passcode, which suggests either that Stiles needs to make his passwords stronger or that they spend entirely too much time together. Then she reads, and Stiles chews on his thumbnail and practices the breathing exercises his therapist taught him.

Lydia hands his phone back after only half a minute, her expression softening to something almost sympathetic. That’s when Stiles truly comprehends how truly, apocalyptically bad this is. Lydia never looks sympathetic.

“Well?” Stiles croaks.

“It just says he’d like you to come see him in his office as soon as you get a chance.”

Stiles has never heard anything so ominous.

“You shouldn’t keep him waiting,” she says gently. “Go get it over with, and while you’re doing that, I’ll write you a glowing recommendation letter.”

A recommendation letter. To take with him when he gets fired. Oh god.

When Stiles edges into Derek’s office, Derek is standing over by the window. He looks stunning as usual, tailored suit perfectly accenting the powerful lines of his body, but his ears are kind of pink. He’s got out a bottle of wine and two glasses on a little trolley table; he must have an important meeting with a big client later today. Stiles will probably never find out about it, though, seeing as he’s about to get fired and all.

“Stiles,” Derek nods.

Stiles would reply, but he’s afraid nothing will come out but an unmanly squeak, so instead he just focuses on perching on the edge of the nearest chair. He’s never actually been in Derek’s office before. It’s very Derek; it reminds him of the woods, lots of earth tones and accents of green. If not for the circumstances, Stiles would probably find it calming. As it is, he’s not sure he would find anything calming right now, except maybe a Xanax.

“Do you know why I called you in here?“ Derek asks.

Oh god, does he have to say it out loud? It’s not like they don’t both know already. Stiles opens his mouth, and no words come out. His mind is one long internal scream. All he can do is clutch the arms of his chair and watch as Derek uncorks the wine and starts pouring it into the first glass with intimidating casualness. He looks like he’s not mad at all. It’s terrifying.

Finally Stiles manages to force the words out. “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”

Derek stops pouring wine into the second glass. “Accidentally?”

“Yes!” Stiles says, latching onto that word like a lifeline. Is it even legal to fire someone for an accident? Well. Probably yes, if it results in somebody’s arm getting lopped off or something, but a dick pic isn’t quite on that level. Stiles hopes so, anyway. “And it wasn’t even my dick!”

Derek puts down the bottle of wine completely. “So… your boyfriend’s…?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you’re saying you sent me porn.”

Stiles groans and drops his head to his hands. He can’t look at Derek right now; he’s already reached maximum mortification levels. “No, I, um, so the thing is, I have Lydia Martin down in my email contacts as ‘Divine Goddess,’ which alphabetically puts her next to you, so I accidentally emailed the dick pic to you when I meant to email it to her, and before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to send explicit materials over the company email and I swear it won’t happen again.” Assuming Stiles ever gets another chance to use his company email, that is, but he’s not going to be the one to point that out.

There’s a long silence, and Stiles risks a peek up through his fingers. Derek is frowning at him, but not like he’s angry. More like he’s confused. “Isn’t Lydia married? To a woman?”

That makes Stiles forget for a moment about being embarrassed. He sits up straight, flailing his hands in a chopping motion. “Whoa, no, it’s definitely not like that. It’s not a flirting thing. We’re just friends, and you’re right, she and Allison are very happily married and I’d never do anything to get between that. Ever. It’s just, she set me up for an online dating profile recently and I kind of hate it because I keep getting dick pics, so that pic you saw was like, like a status update. Like, 'Look how terribly this is going, I hate all of these dudes sending me dick pics because none of them are you'—”

Shit. He bites his tongue so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood, because nope, what the fuck, that was not supposed to be a part of this conversation, and now Derek’s grip on the neck of the wine bottle has gone white-knuckled and he’s just staring at Stiles, all deer-in-the-headlights.

Not for the first time in his life, or even the hundredth, Stiles wishes he had the power to rewind the last ten or so seconds of what just happened and start over. Unfortunately, no such luck.

“Just to clarify, I didn’t mean to imply that I want you to send me a pic of your dick,” Stiles blurts. “I just meant in a, um, a purely romantic sense, no one on that app is as good as… yeah.” Stiles trails off because Derek’s eyes are continuing to widen, and that’s probably not good. “Oh god, I’m making this worse. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

Derek still doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s an interrogation tactic or maybe (probably) he’s just in shock.

Either way, Stiles feels compelled to break the silence. “Are you going to fire me?” he asks tentatively, after what feels like the longest and most awkward minute of his life to date.

Derek finally blinks and relaxes his death-grip on the wine bottle. “I’d be crazy to fire you. You’re one of my best employees.”

“Except for the whole dick pic thing,” Stiles points out, risking a smile, and Derek smiles back. Stiles feels a little of the oh-god-I’m-about-to-get-fired tension leave him, and in its place the usual oh-god-I’m-in-the-presence-of-Derek-Hale tension starts creeping back in. That’s a lot more familiar, and a lot more exciting.

“Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t…” Derek starts, looking away out the window and then nervously meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I didn’t mind the dick pic thing so much. Not when it was from you.”

It’s Stiles’ turn to stare in shock.

Derek spins jerkily on his heel and picks up one of the wine glasses and starts chugging it down, and okay. Maybe Stiles isn’t the only one who’s pretty nervous right now. That thought makes Stiles a whole lot less nervous, and he stands up and moves around the desk while it lasts. Derek turns his head a little. Stiles reaches up and takes the glass away and sets it down on the table.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— It’s not professional—” Derek starts.

“I would send you a picture of my dick if you asked,” Stiles blurts, and it feels like one of the bravest and most romantic things he’s ever said.

“I would send you one, too,” Derek says, blushing furiously.

That basically shreds the last bit of Stiles’ self-control. He grabs Derek’s fancy silk tie and tugs, and, before he can second-guess it, kisses Derek Hale the way he deserves to be kissed, thoroughly and so enthusiastically that Derek ends up sinking back to lean against his desk like his knees just won’t hold him up anymore.

“So, just to clarify,” Stiles pants, resting a hand on Derek’s chest and thrilling that he can do that now, “I’m definitely not fired.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls him back in.

(end)

#my fic #sterek fanfiction #i'm gonna tag this #marauders-mess #since i kinda feel like they prompted me for this one with their message from a few days ago

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yumenosakiacademy · 5 years

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metr0con 2019 friday diary

Cosplayed/breakfast/snack: same as thursday diary

For future me only. preferred that you dont read this, thanks.

Okay so we arrived at like, 10:23 or abt that time so i had some time before my first panel so i just kinda walked around. i dont think anything happened around that time, sorry. my memory of today is a lil bit hazy at parts. but while on the escalator, i looked over at registration n saw creeper print and a yellow crown n the person rly looked like king gavin n i openly Gasped but i couldnt get to them obviously but i was like gjhnsmjgh hh.

then, i went to the yoi panel! uhm.. not much to comment on for this panel, sorry. there was a viktor, yuri, and yurio! i remember there was a personality swap ask and for part of the panel, they all had switched jackets because of a dare.

next was the oh-shc panel! the honey was rly cute n gave a lot of hugs to a lot of the audience members n they were such sute hugs gjhnsm.. like the ones where u semi-leap at a person n hug em w slight movement it was so cute. kyoya said his entire budget book he brought was all for tamaki’s expenses and tamaki proposed to haruhi as a dare but earlier in the panel he was imagining outloud him n haruhi’s wedding gjhnsm

after that, i couldve went to the grav!ity falls panel or the bn-ha one, but since the bn-ha one was in the same room as the previous two, i just decided to stay in my seat for that one. the todoroki n kirishima came in late w starbucks which todoroki says was paid for by endeavor bc he had his dad’s credit card n he actually gave out 2 fake paper credit cards to ppl. aizawa got asked what the dumbest thing he’s gotten asked by one of his students n he said it was “whats your quirk, aizawa?” n todoroki said “it’s not ‘is mayonaise an instrument’? then there was other stuff n they played Sentences and i suggested the scenario “furry convention” after someone suggested todoroki and izuku. ALSO!!! i won the raffle for a bn-ha poster! it was drawn by the uraraka that was one of the panelists n it looks so good ;w; dunno where im gonna put it.. but as my first fanmade print (that’s not my hs wall scroll, which was officially licensed), ill cherish it.

after that i had time to walk! i saw a bunch of id0lish cosplayers! the id0lish7 ones in the dream journey outfits n the 2 trigger members i saw were in similar outfits? i forgot the name for them. anyway! i saw a gentaro n took their pic n they were like “i hav a dice n ramuda somewhere around here.. we’re fl!ng posse” so i wndered around the dealers room n eventually found the dice n ramuda together n took their pic too! thn i kept wanderin n i!! found the king gavin n i was like “are you cosplaying king gavin” n they were like “yea!” n i was!! so happy!!! n they turned to their friend n they were like “see you shouldve stayed in costume! [turns 2 me] they were mad k!ng ryan up until a lil while ago; they changed” but anyway i took their pic n they were talking abt how it feels kinda odd to come to terms w the fact theyre cosplaying minecraft n how they saw a minecraft person earlier n thought abt talking to them but it’s different bc it’s ach!evement hunter so they dont kno the full picture. i saw a corrin w arei button!! which was exciting. also met a nico who said they were gonna b arashi that day but didnt wanna contour but theyre gonna b her tomorrow!! DURING THIS TIME i also saw an adachi body pillow at an artist’s booth n im.. gjhnskm....... i wanted it...... i later found out it was $60 tho so. ;w; i met a sougo n tamaki n i asked if i could take their pic n they said yea, just give em a sec, n the sougo was like “r u cosplayin tsukasa??” n i said yep n they were like do u wanna b in our mv?” n i thought it was a whole event thing n i was like “oh. id hav to check my schedule i might b busy but” n they were talking abt how we (me, the luka next to them, n the kaito next to luka) would just do like steps to the side by following sougos lead n i was confused n repeated myself but the sougo was like “oh, no no it’s right now” n so i did that w them while the tamaki filmed n unfortunately i 4got to ask their instagrams so idk where the vid is but w/e. the sougo told me abt an id0lish meetup at 5 pm, too, out on the docks.

the h!veswap panel was p funny! an eridan n feferi in the audience were also entertaining, esp during the improve games. i remember someone asked lanque “what r ur fashion tips?” n lanque was like “...Dont Bother” n joey was confused by troll stuff n i asked daraya what her fav punk band was n she was like “we only listen to the grubbles. have u heard em?” n i was like “i.. actually havent heard the full album yet so i guess not?” but as im typing this i think i actually have?/ oops. anyway a lot happened but it’s rly hate so im gonna.... move on. im typing this paragraph last bc i 4got to type it lmao.

a ruby and dia complimented my nails! then i saw a doppo!! they were apparently the reo i took a pic of yesterday. they said their jakurai was still getting ready.

i tried to go to the grav!ty falls party but it was just one girl as mabel making the audience do games for prizes that were rly boring like decoding n stuff so i left after abt 15 minutes n went walking again. i had 2 hrs to walk now.

i went downstairs after walkina round the dealers room n there was!! a bloody banquet rei and koga!!! they were so pretty.. i was intimidated kinda but i managed to approach them n we talked abt rei’s rei itabag n koga’s goro itabag n rei said they once spent $150 dollars in rei merch in one sitting on yahoo auctions whoa. they were rly cool tho! we talked for a few minutes. later, i also saw another hypm!c group of MTR + ramuda n took their pics n the ramuda was like “ur sign omg. wait r u tsukasa??” n i said yep n we got excited abt ES n the jakurai told me theres an ES meetup tomorrow at 1 pm!! unfortunately, i hav a panel (2, actually, but i can only choose 1) that is at that time so idk if ill go... esp since it’ll prob only b a few ppl n im not the type of person to make friends anyway, yknow? ....anyway! the hifumi game me a lil clear heart tin w tiny fake yellow flowers n a piece of paper that said: “thank u, prince/princess! -hifumi [doodle of 2 champagne glasses]” n thats.. so cute. i gave them a lollipop in return. little while later, met another jakurai! i think we also talked abt ens-tars!! cant remember a lot of it tho gomen. then a lil while later, i saw the kakeru cosplayer i had heard abt on twitter! they were manning an art booth. i was like “are you cosplaying kakeru?” n they were like “yea!” n i took their pic n i was like “i didnt think id rly find k!npri cosplayers here aa” n the kakeru went “FINALLY i can use one of these!” n handed me a lil kakeru sticker they drew n i was like “his fumb bg pink jacket.. it makes him look like a Shrimp” n we both laughed n they showed me the k!npri stuff on their table n a joji on the other side of their display that looked like he was behind bars bc the display thingy and a jin hanging from one of the bars. they (the kakeru n the person they were with) were like “we kept seeing you walk by w ur sign n we were like ‘i hope they find leo!’” (both days, bc the other person asked if i was tsukasa yesterday) n i showed them my yug!oh card that’s an obscure reference to a tsukasa cg! n i talked to them a lil bit abt ens-tars but i cant remember a lot gahh!! and while i was standing there, a honoka came up and asked for my photo n i was like “ANOTHER ES FAN??” n i talked to them for a sec n forgot to put up my prop for the photo at first gjhnsm but that was cool!! oh, the honoka also asked me if i liked anzu n i was like “she’s super cute in the anime”

after that i tried to go to the fru!ts basket panel but im only 6 eps in the remake anime n they had almost all the characters n i didnt understand a lot of the questions bc i hadnt seen much of the show so.. then after only a few minutes of q+a they started up trivis so i left n just walked around the dealers room. it was during this time that my crown fell off (SECOND DAY IN A ROW) n i searched the whole dealers room but couldnt find it?? ghh..

ANYWAY i found another ramuda w a jakurai n the ramuda liked my sign too n they were like “ur tsukasa!” n i went yep n they saw the buttons ns tuff on my bag n all my keychains n they were like ‘oh, sry” n i was like “no no, it’s okay, u can go thru all the keychains on my backpack i hav A Lot” n i pointed out chiaki as my best boy n mika as my 2nd fav n they said they cosplay hakaze. at some point, i played drops on my flip phone i think bc ramuda was saying smth pertaining to drops?? mayb not. but i played it n jakurai was like “oh god i hav to hear it hre too..” (in-character, i think) n i spotted another ramud in the distand n asked them to wtch my stuff while i took the ramudas pic so i went over n the person next to them had an arashi plush!e n we both squealed (i think. i did tho, Loudly.)

after this i just wandered n i danced on the dance floor! chacha slide, cupid shuffle, n time warp iirc! def time warp tho. also to some 80s song n some guy not in cosplay spun me around nt ried to swing dance we me but he was completely leading it n i didnt kno what to do!! after that i saw a tumblr/con friend while on my way to the yoi panel!!

then the yoi panel was actually p funny! a lot of questions abt yurio’s parents being viktor and yuri and yuri n viktor slowdanced to an edd sheeran song n otabek showed off their muscles (like, flexed their arms in their tank top) n yuri kept dramatically thwipping open their rainbow fan esp in responses to gay asks. at one point, someone asked abt yaois n a mom who was attending w their preteen or teen child was like “whats yaoi?” n the ppl behind her were like “i dont wanna b the one to do this..” n ppl told the mom n the mom to their teen/preteen kid was like “what are u watching? where? is it okay? is it on tv?” n the kid was responding to ehr questions but i couldnt hear them gjhnsm. yurio did a dance to a song n after that, we all danced to cupid shuffle n wobble n then i stopped but others did the time warp too. oh! also i answered a trivia question right (”who’s yuri’s best friend?” “pichit”) and got an utapr! keychain/strap! it’s reiji in a glitter thing. none of the other stuff there aside from some yoi straps was my fandoms so i saw utapr! n went for it.

then the bnh-a pj party! ...uh. the original panelists never showed up so random bn-ha cosplayers (and their non-cn.ha-cosplaying friends) tred to host the panel but everythign was hectic and loud n unfocused n a wreck but i noticed a ramuda n a hifumi i hadnt taken a pic of yet in the corner of the room (there were no chairs) so i eventually got annoyed/bored n went over to ask for a pic but ended up asking to sit w them (i walked over, put my sign down, n went “i said Fuck leo rights n higumi was like “that chara is familiar..” n i said leo from ES n they were like “oh i watched p 1 of that” n i was like “ep 2, this unday. stan ryuseitai”) n i ended up talking to them abt hypm!c n cosplay stuff n i talked a bit abt ens-tars and we all agreed that stella n papillion Slap on the new album. n ramuda said they were cosplaying as a prom!sed neverland haracter tomorrow n recommended it to me n i was like “oh im watching fru!ts basket rn tho” n the hifumi said they were too n the ramuda was like “do u kno the horse one in fru!ts basket? My Horse Boyfriend....” (the game. i think that was the name) so i showed them the hypm!c ask blog where they draw some of the charcaters as horses n the other characters as cowboys n the ramuda showed me the pics that r on their swear jar (photshopped pics of kinako w long legs in stockings+heels) n id0lish memes n it was all chill!! i played drops for them on my phone too. someone came over n went “if u can type w those nails, ur a god[dess]” n i said i could w Only my nails n they said i was like a god[dess] hehe. the higumi said they should make a tumblr n i heard them muttering “should i put 14 on here?” n ramuda went “well i mean, you Are 14-” n i went “ur 14?” n they nodded n i asked the ramuda how old They were n they said 14 n i was like “oh my god.. yallre babies..... gjhnsmk im 18.” n the ramuda crawled back a bit n they were like “18??” n the hifumi was like “u look so young tho whoa! rly?” n i was like “yea i look p young.. ive been compared to a freshman b4..... n yea i graduated like 2 months ago” n the hifumi was like “congratulations :o”

#A LOT MORE COULD HAV BEEN SPOKEN ABT BUT IT'S LATE N I AHV 2 GET UP EARLY OKAY #con diary

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persephoneandpomegranates · 7 years

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flashbacks and old posts

I’m consolidating blogs so here’s some fun posts from when i was a senior in high school / freshman in college.

Sunday, July 22nd, 2012

whenever i go to the library

i always find the most embarrassing books at the very beginning so then i have to walk around with them while i peruse the rest of the library.

so then i end up grabbing up bunch of random, potentially interesting books to use as an awkward shield so no one can see that i have a stack of comic books and paranormal research and whatnot.

but then i have to check them out. even though we have self-serve, which i always choose, the librarian is always sitting right there just watching so no one tries anything sinister like stealing library books. and at some point i run out of normal books to check out and then i’m just like. … oh yeah tarot cards? i forgot i grabbed that book. that’s for my… dog… because he can read and he’s really into learning about new… nevermind.

#awkward , #library, #tarot cards, #embarrassing books

Monday, July 30th, 2013

procrastination is an onion

i like to create multi-layered procrastination.

instead of just putting off my summer homework or my online byu classes by watching tv, i like to create mind numbing projects like organizing my gruesome music or kindle collections, or cleaning my room.

but then i don’t want to do those either.

so then i realize that it’s almost august and camp nanowrimo is nearly upon me.

well, i can’t possibly organize my kindle and music collection with less than 48 hours to figure out plot, characters, and most importantly, how about genre.

but then.

it’s really hard to just do that.

so i have to get some creative inspiration, right?

so that’s how i ended up on neopets.

i swear, they used to have the most amazing writing boards and guilds. but now things just trudge along on the boards because there are less users. and i am all about the speed and instant gratification because hey, facebook.

but because the boards are so slow i find myself trying to feed my neopets in the meantime.

and then i’m like, oh i never got the pack rat avatar! i better start finding a bunch of useless items to put in my safety deposit box…

and now i have to work my way all the back down to my summer homework and byu classes by completing everything else first. because my neurosis says so.

my procrastination is an onion.

so many layers and it makes me cry.

#onion #procrastination #neopets #nanowrimo #camp nanowrimo #layered procrastination #somebody end this miserable cycle please

Tuesday, December 18th, 2012

captain college

this one time, a girl desperately wanted to go to college.

but then she realized that she would have to do college applications and also ask for letters of recommendation.

that’s a lot of work.

so instead she watched tv and lol’d at the internet.

and spent like half an hour wikipedia captain planet because when i ws younger i thought it was freaking bad ass and captain planet was hot. or something.

the power of heart!

but seriously, can i put this on my application? heh.

#college apps #applications #college admissions #captain planet

Thursday, January 24th, 2013

i am not even a good artist.

cute guy was like oh can i borrow your notes?

so i went to get my notes only to find them covered in doodles.

and not cool ones.

doodles of danny phantom.

…in a slightly suggestive v-neck.

well fuck me it can’t get any worse.

so i go to give the folder to said guy.

and i drop the folder.

papers. everywhere.

i am so slick. and by slick, i mean extremely socially inept.

my only hope is that my doodles are so terrible, that he can’t even tell what i drew.

but somehow, the fact that i also wrote DANNY PHANTOM next to the picture, does not make me feel optimistic.

#danny phantom #bad doodles #aww jeez #socially awkward #awkward #i like tags almost as much as i liek turtles.

Sunday, September 15th, 2013

Jesus, Marie

My life is a bunch of rocks.

No but really, I’m freaking out. I’m going to college in like three fucking days and its going to be my last day at this amazing parrot sanctuary I volunteer at tomorrow. All I want to do is sit in a corner and play with those fucking parrots and probably get bit at because I am not the best parrot handler but I’m learning. Beyond the point.

I just feel so unready. All my friends are out there doing that college thing already or they’re like me and have a few days left but they are so ready. They want to meet new people and go to parties and join clubs and hangout with their new roommates. They want to get out and live life like a college student.

And I just don’t.

I just can’t picture it. Me doing laundry, making my own food, sharing a communal bathroom. I can see myself doing all these things, but it’s like watching a movie montage. It’s not actually me.

I don’t know if I can do this. But dammit I’m not giving up. A teacher told my senior class to look around our classroom and know that while we were all going to college, at least one person would drop out before they graduated. It wasn’t harsh, it was just a fact. The point was that it’s not for everyone and sometimes people learn that too late.

I’m just terrified that person is me.

But you know what? I love school. I love learning. I love procrastinating by organizing all my notes and color coding them when I could actually be studying which would be a lot more useful. I love commiserating with my friends during all nighters or even just glancing at my Facebook and see that twenty other people in that class are on Facebook at that ungodly hour, doing the exact same thing I’m doing- which is regretting that they put off a giant project or a huge midterm.

I am so excited that I’m going to get to grow up and prove to my parents they did a good job raising me, despite my flaws: my laziness, my morning crankiness, the fact that I worry about everything.

I think that’s the problem, that last part. I always worry. My worrying has one level: defcon five. I think about how the supervolcano in Yellowstone could erupt at any moment and kill a gazillion people and also me. A heavy fear that wraps around me and my shaking hands inevitably weaves its way through thoughts like my immeninent demise. But it’s also what I do when I think about the scores on my latest math test might be. There’s no panic gradient with me. Just on or off. And it’s rarely off.

But you know what else I’ve learned about my worrying? Even when it is absolutely warranted, like when I get that math score back-and yep I saw that coming- I hardly flinch. I mean, “Ouch, I am not so good at this calculus thing” goes through my mind, but I accept it and move on ridiculously fast, considering how much worry I put into it.

So that’s what I’m doing now. Taking everything and turning into the apocalypse.

College isn’t going to be what movie montage me expected. It’s going to be me figuring out how to talk to my roommate and still sucking at talking to boys and probably using too much laundry detergent and most definitely awkwardly trying to feed myself at 3am because I’m suddenly starving.

It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be different than anything I’ve ever done before.

But that’s okay. Because I can’t just spend my life sitting in my room wishing I was 16 again and my biggest defcon five worry was never getting my license and ending up like my aunt who’s trapped walking and riding a bike or bus everywhere.

I can’t just stay where I am right now forever. That wouldn’t be living; it would just be existing.

What I’m saying is dammit. My life isn’t just going to be a bunch of boring rocks. It’s going to be a fucking kaleidoscope of experiences.

I’m going to go to a college rager, even though I won’t drink more than two sips of lightweight beer, just because if I don’t go, I’ll always wished I had. And you know what? Maybe I will get drunk and seriously regret it in the morning but at least then I’ll know it’s not for me, rather than just being too afraid to find out.

I’m going to join the pre veterinarian club even though I’ve heard it’s cutthroat and that scares me, I have every right to be there. And I’m definitely joining some nerdy fan clubs. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play D&D.

Who’s going to stop me? Myself?

Not a chance.

#jumbled mess #college #fuck yeah #worries #i can do this #even if i need to take a few xanax #i got this

Sunday, September 15th, 2013

Whew

I feel a lot better now. Like I’m fucking capable of being alive or something.

#post rant #much better

Wednesday, September 25th, 2013

First Week of College

Great first week at UW.

So my life is pretty cool and all my worries about college have been unfounded. That being said, I did shrink some of my cotton shirts in the dryer doing laundry for the first time. Also, the lotion I brought for my legs is something I’m definitely allergic too. Oops. I have two little hives on my legs and both my shins are super itchy. Guess who is buying new lotion tomorrow?

I did almost kill myself in the shower today, though. I went to shave my legs for the first time, but because the shower is just a tiny little rectangle, I had to get creative with my acrobatics. Because I went to a yoga class today, I felt like maybe I could put my leg up on the wall and do a modified wall sit type of thing. So I did that and it seemed like a pretty good idea except for the fact my leg was a little lower than I meant it to be. No problem, I can just hitch my leg up a little higher and then we’re in business.

That’s where my shower took a turn for the worst.

As I was lurching my leg up, I lost a bit of my balance and my back slid down a little. Now I’m stuck. Well, shit.

So I struggle a little more and realize there’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully. But I can hope, so I decide to slide slowly down the wall of the shower until I reach a point where I can adjust myself and stand up.

Of course, showers are fucking slippery when wet.

For a brief moment, I thought I was going to die.

Whooosh. Clunk. Fuck.

So now I’m sitting on the floor of a nasty ass public shower, butt naked of course and feeling sad about myself because that kind of hurt. I missed my head and whatnot so luckily none of my roommates found me bleeding and unconscious and also naked in the shower an hour later, but still. My dignity is bruised.

Anywho, since I’m already sitting on the floor of the gross shower and the five second rule has gone and past, I just decided to wallow in my self pity and shave my legs on the floor.

It actually worked out quite nicely except for the fact I probably have butt herpes now.

#how i almost died in the shower #slippery bathroom #college life #don’t shave your legs like i did #also you can’t get herpes like that but you probably can get something else horrible #can you get herpes in your butt

#newphonewhodis #memoir

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bibliosexxual · 7 years

Photo

Hey guys! I’ve gotten a lot of new followers lately, so I thought I’d do a little summary of what’s been going on my blog so far this year to update you all.

I’ve been unusually prolific, so I’ve got a lot of new Sterek fics up, including some old WIPs I updated this year.

So, without further ado, here’s the masterpost, as of early May 2017. Happy reading!! And let me know if you think a post like this for my older fics would be helpful as well.

EDIT: Almost forgot, I’ve marked the most popular fics with a ❤.

rich!Derek first date drabble (on tumblr) ~1300 words | E

Out of necessity, Derek has fine-tuned a few simple tests for anyone he goes on a first date with.

the kid!fic (on tumblr) ~2300 words | Teen

“Do you think I’m ready for fatherhood?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not freaking out about this. He’s not.

Boyd says flatly, “Stilinski, you’re twenty-one years old. You’re supposed to know how to use a condom by now.“

Stiles’ hand spasms and he accidentally squirts a huge glob of ketchup on his mound of curly fries. Fuck. He has the ideal ketchup-to-curly-fry ratio down to a science, and this is not it. “No, absolutely not what I meant. It’s just. Did you know Derek had a kid?”

❤ stress baking (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ ~1500 words | Gen

From the prompt, “You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?”

❤ the flight to hawaii (drabble on tumblr) ❤ ~900 words | Teen

Jake runs a hand through his sandy blond prince-charming hair and snorts. “Please, this relationship is over when I say it is. Or do you seriously think anyone else is lining up to date you?”

For a moment Stiles is actually speechless, because how has he spent the last three months thinking this guy was attractive? How did he overlook this level of douchebaggery? Some kind of witchcraft, probably.

That’s when the guy in the row ahead of them turns around in his seat, looks Stiles straight in the eye, and says without even one hint that he’s joking, “I would date you.”

❤ the engagement (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ 1595 words | Gen

The whole thing starts with Stiles really, really craving a meatball sub from the place across the street.

❤ the saga of the valentine’s day cucumber (on tumblr) ❤ 616 words | Teen

Drabble based on the prompt,

I JUST SERVED A CUSTOMER AND THEY WERE PURCHASING A CUCUMBER AND THEY WENT

“It’s for Valentine’s Day”

I REPLIED

“You must be lonely?”

THEY REALISED WHAT I MEANT AND NOW I’M SAT WITH A COMPLAINANT FORM IN FRONT OF ME.

❤ the nerd party, AKA the bookstore!AU (on AO3) ❤ ~4400 words | Teen

From the prompt, “We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.” HS!AU in which Derek is crushing hard and Stiles might not be as observant as he thinks he is.

Sterek doctors!AU (on tumblr) ~2000 words | Teen

A ficlet in which Stiles and Derek are coworkers at the hospital, Stiles accidentally (?) becomes Derek’s new roommate, and there is pining. Basically the outcome of my addiction to House, M.D.

you know you’re on my mind (WIP on AO3) 8164 words | Teen

The pen pal AU where Derek lives in California and Stiles lives in Poland. Long-distance pining, whoo!

draw me like one of your french girls (on tumblr: part 1, part 2) 3687 words | Teen

College AU + art student AU + nude modeling AU.

❤ accidentally? (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ 3683 words | Mature

Based on the prompt,

boss: “know why I called you in here?” me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic” boss [stops pouring 2 glasses of wine]: “accidentally?”

yup.

❤ breaking & entering (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ 4161 words | Teen

Based on the prompt, “[burglar gently wakes me] You live like this?" In which Derek Hale deserves nice things (and gets them).

prince in training (on tumblr) ~3000 words | Teen

Based on the prompt, “i grew up not knowing i was royal and now i guess i’m heir to a throne and you’re the guy who’s supposed to be teaching me how to be royal bc i suck at it and oops we made out”

❤ gorgeous beards of BHU (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ 2239 words | Teen

There are a lot of reasons Stiles is pretty sure Erica is his platonic soulmate. Her brilliant innuendos. Her epic dance moves. Her stubborn refusal to back down from things that scare her. The fact that her comic book collection is even bigger than Stiles’. And, of course, her @gorgeousbeards_of_bhu instagram account.

Or,

In which Erica posts a picture of a gorgeous mystery man to her Instagram and Stiles has to know who it is.

the roommate (on tumblr: part 1, part 2) ~1900 words | Teen

In which Stiles and Scott get a terrifying-except-not new roommate thanks to Craigslist.

❤ little spoon (on tumblr: part 1, 2; AO3) ❤ 6455 words | Teen

To save money while attending college in NYC, Stiles and Derek decide to rent one tiny apartment together. With one bed.

the blazing bombardier (on tumblr) 1670 words | Teen

Fluffy summertime meet-cute in which Stiles loves roller coasters and Derek really, really does not.

the valentine’s day showdown (on tumblr) ~4000 words | Teen

So Stiles and Erica have this competitive flirting/wooing thing going. This totally-mutually-agreed-upon-to-be-platonic competitive flirting/wooing thing. Every Valentine’s Day Eve, Erica gets him good, and every Valentine’s Day, Stiles gets her back, thoroughly.

Except this year things don’t go quite according to plan.

❤ on the bus (on AO3) ❤ 13299 words | Mature

HS!AU in which Stiles and Derek ride the bus to school together, and there are bisexual awakenings.

older!derek fic (on tumblr, AO3) ~4000 words | Mature

Stiles likes Derek. Derek thinks he’s too old for Stiles. Meanwhile, Stiles is stubborn (and attractive).

❤ ships passing in the night (on tumblr, AO3) ❤ 1410 words | Teen

Stiles can’t say he blames Derek for quitting. Hell, this is basically the best thing to ever happen to Derek, Stiles knows that, and it’s awesome. They’d talked about their dreams, and Derek had always said he’d love to be a musician. Now his single has climbed to number eight on Billboard’s Hot 100 and his face is at the top of Stiles’ news feed every day for a week, and Stiles wouldn’t take that away from him for anything.

BUT. Just because Derek gets his dream job doesn’t mean he can just—just leave and never contact Stiles again.

Only, that’s exactly what he does.

Or, musician!Derek AU with pining.

not really casual (on tumblr, AO3) 2714 words | Teen

They meet in Biology 101. Stiles is a freshman, and he’s in this class mostly because Scott is pre-vet and Stiles signed up for all the same classes because he has no earthly idea what he wants to do, career-wise. Derek is a junior Spanish lit major taking this because he needs the gen. ed., and he’s terrible. He’s the only person in the class who’s not a freshman. He’s always a few minutes late—that’s how he ended up sitting at the table by the door with Stiles and Scott the first day—and he’s so gloomy, and he always lugs around this backpack full of Pablo Neruda books because he has a Spanish poetry class right before this one, and he takes the neatest, most meticulous class notes Stiles has ever seen. (Stiles, meanwhile, doesn’t take any notes. He takes photos of every slide with his phone as the professor talks and then spends the rest of the time goofing off quietly, doodling dumb stuff on Scott’s arm and working on five different assignments at once on his laptop.)

at the museum (on tumblr) 2452 words | Teen

Of course the first time Stiles sees Derek Hale since high school just has to be on the day he’s finally gotten Lydia from Marketing to agree to go out with him. That’s how the universe works, apparently, always giving Stiles the shittiest luck.

the hunger games AU (WIP on AO3) 7941 words | Teen

Derek shifts on his feet, says, quiet, “You must really care about him.”

“He’s my brother,” Stiles says simply. “And with his asthma, he’s—he wouldn’t have made it fifteen minutes in there. Even assuming he did, he wouldn’t kill anyone. He doesn’t have it in him.”

“And you do?” Derek asks.

Stiles stands a little straighter, looks Derek straight in the eye. “I’ll do what I have to do.” He hopes it comes out sounding more sure than he feels.

Or, in which Stiles takes Scott’s place in the arena.

***

So that’s it for this year… but the year is still young. :)

#fic masterpost #rebe chats #haha i tried to make a pretty graphic #so this would be all official #hope it looks okay

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