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seelestia · 2 years ago

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pssst hey your cool(?) virtual cousin here. would u like to visit my virtual house this weekend my husband will be cooking his signature slow-cooked bamboo shoot dish oh and also bring ur detective bf too, i'd like to interrogate talk 🙂nicely🙃 to him - yknow just some family bonding time <3 /j

pffffft i'm imagining poor zhongli having to take care of two hu taos sldkslkdls he's going to grow some white hairs lmao

childe helps him out to create a youtube channel and sends him scripts for zhongli to read.... some lines sounds a little questionable for an audiobook but what does he know, maybe it's just how young ppl these days talk? some kinda slang he doesn't really understand? but why do they all sound so romantic???

meanwhile childe cackles as he watches zhongli's latest asmr video goes trending and people are having a mental breakdown over his clueless friend's voice saying "welcome home, would you like to have a bath first, or dinner, or perhaps... a kiss?" slfjslkskdsl

hmmm i see i see *notes down on clipboard*

hhhhhhh yes i saw that trailer last night with my brother and i was like 'hmmm ok al haitham kinda cool' while he was all 'wow dehya girlboss badass'...

i'm pretty sure they have a bot (or some kind of automation?) for monitoring the blogs :/ yeah i heard about that too hence the usual 'no spam liking!' rule on most blogs... but like, how many likes are counted as spam?? and within how many seconds?? ah well... i think i've moved for good anyway, tumblr can do whatever as long as my new blog is safe lol

me: m-mono anemo? / hyv: mono anemo :)

(pls hyv mercy i don't have any vayuda turquoise gems anymore xiao and jean and kazuha ate all of it-)

hskdjskdks probably... oh well i guess i'll just settle with seeing him from time to time on the rare times my brother kindly graces my noob acc with his fully built teams... one day, diluc will come home. that day might not be today. but one day....

LOL IKR shameless behavior i swear /lh and thank you!!! may all zhongli wanters be zhongli havers!!! i am crossing my fingers for everyone who pulls for the ceo of geo himself!!! hmmmm maybe i should try the 'apply element to character to increase the probability of the gacha' approach hshdjhd zhongli come home the power of money compels you

ah ok that's good! gotta eat your meals when you're still growing!! hehe zhongli wouldn't need to worry i always eat my meals altho i only have them twice per day - but i'd like to think that he'd watch contentedly as i happily nom on things tho he will probably give me a disapproving frown when he sees that i'm holding my chopsticks incorrectly oops

how dare you put the question next to the cool because i can vouch that it is the absolute truth. (/lh) i can visit but i must warn you that heizou said he is very much looking forward to it i am concerned. will our family bonding time become a heated debate... i'll go make some tea when that happens.

zhongli and constantly being surrounded by gen z's in modern au gives me life, and then we have venti who has perfectly integrated into the said generation without fail 🚶 oh, zhongli, the way you can put us all to sleep with just a few words <//3 (maleficent's spinning wheel could never fkekkdkfks) and childe definitely promised him a box of imported limited tea for it JFKWKKDS

v3.0 hype, aaaaa !! i didn't get to watch the livestream in real time, but i heard it crashed for a bit??? 2.8 flashbacks it feels like yesterday when people were fawning over inazuma's release and thinking that miko was the electro archon fwjfksjedk. sumeru just arrived, but it made me more excited for fontaine now because i just know i'm going to vibe with the city !! and it makes me think of a historical au with nobleman!ayato *COUGH*

and you're not just going to get diluc too !! tighnari and albedo will be added to the standard banner soon, so that's some new varieties to lose our 50/50 to ;D

mono anemo until there is a commission titled emergency and it's an eye of the storm FWSKDKS PHYSICAL XIAO, LET'S GO. (/j)

i usually have kokomi to heal heizou or klee when they take damage, but having zhongli will definitely and significantly increase the survivability of the team !! >:) my hp artifacts that i saved for yelan are waiting for you, grandpa. (/lh)

i shall need all the calcium and protein !! but the pride i feel knowing i'm the same height as xiao SENDS ME EVERY TIME. indeed, you are the super cool virtual cousin who has me on a leash and i thank you deeply for that, rin, nyehehe <3

p/s: your dynamic with zhongli reminds me of the down bad enthusiastic talker + the listener who sips tea who admires said talker fjwkdkkas

#i hope your day has been good rin !!#i'm eating a full meal aka some fried rice as we speak fjekdksjdk #ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

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Dying In The Batboys Arms

reqs: "do you write dark stuff like the boys reaction to the reader dying??? i love your blog btw!" & "Hi could I get some a n g s t"

sooo i'm terrible at angst or anything involving sadness because i ~fall apart~ and give up but for you two i tried my best haha and went for a HC cuz it's easier right? anyways hope you enjoy i cried like twice while writing this but i'm a weak bitch so i had to end them all decently to sleep alright tonight oops

Damian Wayne:

- damian would never let you die, so this would have to be you fulfilling some kind of deal or something unavoidable like yeeting into the speed force or something

- rushing to his embrace one last time and throwing your arms around him

- feeling him shake in your embrace as he whispers "please don't go beloved" and "ill never forget you" reducing you to tears as well

- your last kiss is salty and desprate, like he's trying to remember every moment, every feeling of you

- telling him it's not his fault and that he'll need to move on, but he's too busy promising to find you and save you even if there truly is no hope

- when you leave his eyes are the last thing you see, they were always your favorite and after years of looking at them it felt fitting they'd be the last earthly thing you saw

- as soon as you're gone damian isn't leaving the spot for weeks

- he's basically camped out, hair grown out, cheeks permanently stained as everytime he thinks of you he's crying again- making up for all the tears he held in his whole life

- jon is the only person he'll speak to, and even in that his words are softer than they'd ever been, damian would be to broken to hold his regular facade

- eventually jon coaxes him to return, seeing your belongings unmoved for months

- he'd almost undeniably quit robin, taking up a nickname you called him or wearing a suit in your favorite color, his only driving force after losing you will be the hope you had in him, he tells himself that even in death you're still watching over him forever... it may bit be true but it's the only thing that gives him a reason to keep living and not try to join you

Tim Drake:

- coughing up blood you'd search frantically for tim until he was at your side, crying uncontrollably as he tried to push away your hair matted with blood

- "hey timbers i don't think i'm gonna make it outta this one" you whispered, your hand reaching up to caress tim's cheek, wiping away the tears

- "no, stay with me help is coming i'm right here!" he'd scream spamming the 911 button on his suit as you shook your head "i might be dying but i'm not stupid" his eyes softened at the light smile that traced the lips he loved to kiss

- pulling him down to whisper everything you needed to say all he'd be able to get out it "i can't keep going if you leave me"

- squeezing his hand with every last ounce of strength you reminded him "it's not goodbye timmy it's a see you later, right?" with a soft nod he looked at you, eyes still brimming with tears

- "i've always been so proud of you timbers, don't stop now. see you later okay? i love you" the last words were strangled, but you had to give him something to hang on to as you let go, fading into the pain

- "see you soon y/n l/n ill love you always" were the last words to grace your ears, fading into a dull white noise as you slipped into peaceful bliss, tim's fsvorite soft smile permanent on your lips

- his family found him clutching your limp body, rocking back and forth promising to make you proud, repeated pushing your hair behind your ears because he knows you hate having hair fall in your face

- the strangled noises leaving his families throats as they realized what happened didn't help, neither did dick falling to the ground next to him, and steph bawling into jason's chest. duke had softly grabbed damians hand, both staring at the sky praying to whom ever was listening while bruce pulled tim up and into an embrace

- carefully the family left, one member- and a huge piece of their heart missing. broken at the scene.

- tim threw himself into work, determined to make you proud- but his family would catch him sitting in front of the small, supposedly secret, shrine he'd made in his closet for you, if damian presses his ear to his closet wall he could hear tim softly telling you about his day and what he did that would make you laugh

- months later he seemed calmer, no one could figure it out until dick took the time to ask. tim didn't say much but he held up his left hand ring finger and in a writing dick hadn't seen in months, the perfectly messy scribbles tattooed on his hand said "see you later timmy"

Jason Todd:

- seeing you minutes from death would send jason into shock, unable to move other than sinking to his knees next to you as you groaned with pain

- "at least hold me while a go jaybird" you mumbled through the blood trying to fill your throat. quickly he'd wrap his arms around you

- jason's embrace was comforting as always, you tried to memorize the way the scars landed on your abdomen and his calloused hands tentatively held you like you could break at any wrong move- i guess he was right this time

- "just hold on babe" jason was never good with words was he? with the last ounces of strength you cupped his cheek, bringing his head down to yours "stop talking and kiss me one last time" you whispered

- jason's hands fell to their usual position, one keeping you upright by holding your lower back, his rough hands creating perfect friction with your smooth skin, his other secured to the back of your head, lightly tugging on loose strands of your hair, it was like a puzzle piece fitting together, you melded perfectly to his lips

- the kiss was slow and loving, taking a moment you deepened it just to burn the memory of his passion into your brain before returning back to his loving and slow kisses

- you realized you were crying into the kiss when his rough finger swiped away tears, his lips never leaving yours

- pulling apart to breath and cough jason clung to you "please hold on please" you gave him a sad smile "it's okay jaybird i'm last where the pain hurts that means it's coming soon" you whispered, your hand still on his cheek, feeling the light stubble you always thought was so sexy

- "i love you jason todd, but i've never lied to you and i'm not starting now, this is goodbye babe" you told him bluntly, his face contorting as he pulled you back into his chest "no no no no" were the only words he could think of "i love you jay, it's okay baby" you pulled his lips back to yours until you felt the pain incoming

- "i don't think i've got much longer. hold me?" you looked up to jason who was pushing away tears

- "always" he replied, clutching you to his heaving chest as you snuggled into his embrace, you were sad this would be the last time you got to feel his heartbeat and chest rise and fall, you loved the feeling and knew you'd never forget it, even in death

- "y/n? babe? no" jason realized you were gone, and he lost it, screaming at the universe for taking the one good thing, crying like he promised he'd never, and punching almost everything within a 5 foot range

- his family found him bloody and broken, clutching your lifeless body as he tried to wrap him mind around what happened, he might never get better, the memory of your loss burned too deep and scarred too hard, but if he truly understood your love for him he'd use that love he had for you to drive it towards good, fighting for whatever you believed in most as an homage to you, hoping that when he next saw you he'd get to remember the feeling of you throwing your arms around him like you always did when he did something you were proud of, that desire was the only thing keeping him going

Dick Grayson:

- imagine an impending death with dick grayson, maybe it's a medical diagnosis and hope has run out, or a known death date, whatever it maybe- i think only dick would be a character strong enough to stay by your side through it all

- when it just became too hard to go on you and dock both knew what was coming

- he took weeks off nightwing duties, traveling the world and falling deeper in love, eloping somewhere deep in europe to solidify your love eternally no matter where either of you were

- the day it was finally time you were wrapped up in his clothes, your favorite hoodie and sweatpants that smelled of the warm vanilla toasted marshmallow smell you fell in love with

- you'd catch dick swiping away rogue tears all day, trying to make the most of your time together

- as the final hour ticked down you both let everything off your chests, not that there was really anything left

- nestling himself one the crook of your shoulder you inhaled the warm comfortable scent, willing yourself to never forget it when he whispered "i'm not ready to let you go yet" and it broke the both of you, sobbing into each other's shoulders as time stopped

- feeling death begin creeping in you were curled up in dick's embracing, having said your goodbyes to loved ones, damian especially heart broken he was clutching one of your sweatshirts, one day he'd grow out of it but you assumed by then he'd be over the loss

- "does- do you hurt?" dick asked softly as you soaked in his embrace, feeling his tears roll down your touching cheeks

- "it's not scary when you're here dickie" you whispered, pulling his lips in for one last kiss, as you began drifting away you shifted to rest on his collar bone, inhaling the vanilla scent that had been your rock for years, you were glad it would be the last thing you remembered, the best sendoff you could ask for

- dick watched you exhale your last breath peacefully, part of him was glad your pain was over, but that didn't stop the sobs from escaping

- damian crept in, still clinging to your sweatshirt, hopping up into dick's lap, nestled between you and dick, he'd only done it a couple times but he needed it almost as much as dick this time

- and the two held you together, more family members came and went but damian and dick held your vigil, together they helped each other get up and live, falling into a routine of sitting in the same position, your sweatshirt held in their lap, occasionally they'd raise it and take a trip down memory lane with your familiar smell still lingering on the sweatshirt, and that was all they had of you, but now they had each other. and that would have to do until they saw you again

#tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #batboys #batfam #batfam headcanons #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #dc angst #tim drake angst #damian wayne angst #jason todd angst #dick grayson angst #dc fluff #batfamily

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rosie-moons · 3 years ago

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Beauty and the Beast 1 {} Tale as Old as Time || myg

~Pairing: worstboyfriendever!yoongi x travelenthusiast!reader

~Genre: Angst with a sprinkle of fluff

~Word Count: 3.4k

~Warnings: yoongi being the worst boyfriend 😥😥😥, reader crying 😔😔😔, very cliche scenes, a breakup (not the major part though), yoongi crying 😢😢😢, yoongi cheating on reader (YOONGI I SWORE IF YOU HURT OUR OC LIKE THIS I WOULD PUNCH YOU TILL YOU BLEED but you’re saved for the sake of this story 😡😡😡), reader being too forgiving, swearing

~A/N: well. i just had to give you guys angst after dp, didn't i? i know yoongi's stupid in here but pls don't get mad at him bc he's my bb and i love him too much 🥺. also HOMOPHOBES STAY AWAY, CHOHEE AND NARI ARE MY BABES AND I'LL PROTECT THEM NO MATTER WHAT!

~''~

In your relationship, Yoongi had always been the beast.

Missing dates, drinking at the bar and getting wasted almost every night, overall just fucking around… it was common sense that this was what boyfriends were supposed to do, right?

“Right.” was what you always thought- that boys were uncaring and stupid and undeserving of any love.

Well, any love except for yours.

Somehow, Yoongi always thought that you didn't deserve him, that you were the ugly, cold-hearted beast, that you were supposed to love him without anything in return.

And you always thought he was right; forgiving him after his sobbing apologies again and again, taking care of him after drunken nights again and again, convincing yourself that he really did love you again and again- until you decided this couldn’t go on.

No, you had a life outside of Yoongi.

You had dreams.

You had friends, a good social life, a whole group of boys who’d give you the universe if it meant you could be with them.

Why did you choose Yoongi though?

Why not any of those boys, some of whom were more attractive, more caring, treated you better?

~’’~

“Soulmates,” your best friend Nari huffed, turning her head to look at you. You were having a long-anticipated spa night together, cool cucumber slices resting on your tired eyes and some sort of coconut scented oatmeal mush plastered over your face. “You gotta stop believing in that shit, Y/N.”

You sighed.

“I’m trying, okay? It’s just that… I think… I think believing that one day someone will love you for eternity is better than living every day in heartache. At least it gives you hope, a reason to smile, I guess. Don’t you think so too?”

Nari paused for a minute, nodding subtly as she chowed on a cucumber slice. “Now that I think about it, I guess you’re right…”

You smiled, proud that you’d convinced her.

“...but nah, I still think you should face reality more than your imagination, you really have your head up in the clouds too much. All those fairytales- you know why they’re called fairytales and not realistic tales or something? Because they’re just to lull kids to sleep, all that perfect romance doesn’t exist,” her expression softened. “Hey, I really didn't mean to upset you... I was just- are you thinking about him again?”

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to stop the overflow of tears threatening to spill out. “I… no, I’m not. I just… I don’t…”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s alright…” She immediately scrambled off her massage chair, coming over to yours and pulling you into her arms. “He’s a stupid fucker who doesn’t deserve you. There’s so many good guys who’ll die to be with you, Y/N, I’m sure even Seventeen’s Mingyu would date you if you gave him a chance. Really!”

You sniffled, burying your face in your friend’s chest. “Not everyone’s obsessed with Seventeen like you, Nari.”

“Well,” She hmph’ed. “Are there any K-pop groups you like, then?”

“No.”

“How about TXT? Enhypen? Astro? You like none of them?”

“Enhypen’s okay, I guess…”

“There we go! Okay, okay, who’s your favorite member?”

“The one with the really nice smile.”

“All of them have nice smiles, Y/N. Do you know his name?”

“Uh… Sun-something. I think his last name is Kim.”

“Sunoo? You like Sunoo? OMG! OMG! MY BEST FRIEND LIKES SUNOO!” Nari jumps off the massage chair, making “whoop whoop” noises as she dances across the spa room.

A beautiful raven-haired spa attendant creaks open the door, stepping in. “Hello, ladies. I hope you’re enjoying your evening. I just heard… something, and was wondering if you’re doing okay.”

Nari freezes with her left foot still in the air, arms bent in an awkward position. She coughs, blushing as she scrambled to a standing position. “Yes, um, we’re doing fine. Thank you, er…” Her eyes flicker down to the attendant’s nametag, “Chohee ♥” scribbled in pretty cursive handwriting. “...Chohee.”

You flashed your signature wide smile, giving her a thumbs up. “Yep! Nari just gets excited easily, everything’s okay!”

She smiles back, pretty pink lips devoid of any lip gloss or lipstick. “Alright, then. Call me if you need anything!”

“Wait!” Nari calls after her as she proceeds to shut the door. “How are we supposed to call you if we don’t have your number?”

Chohee laughs awkwardly. “Oh… haha… I meant, like, physically call me, not, like, with a phone… haha… but… I mean… like...” She takes a page from the tiny notebook in her pocket, writing something on it. She hands it over to Nari. “Here’s my number, just don’t… spam me… or anything… um…” She clears her throat. “I hope we can… be… friends… or… something…”

Nari smiles shyly, accepting the paper. “Yeah… thanks, Chohee. Um, it was great meeting you…”

They giggle dumbly together before a shrill “CHOHEE! WE HAVE CUSTOMERS WAITING, YOU KNOW!” interrupts the glassy moment. Chohee immediately jumps back into professionalism, clearing her throat. “Sorry, uh… Nari…? Was that it?”

Nari nods.

“Yeah. Nari. Um, I have to go…”

“Oh, we shouldn’t be interrupting your work, should we?” She laughs. “Thanks for… uh… everything…”

“No problem.” They giggle again. “I really have to get going though… Bye.”

“Bye, Chohee.”

“CHOHEE SEO! IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE NOW YOU’RE FIRED! DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Chohee’s eyes widen. “Oop, gotta go. Bye!” She runs off, Nari yelling one last “BYE!” as she waves.

When she finally closes the door and meets your eyes, she’s practically jumping up and down, heated cheeks glowing a fiery red.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Now do you believe in fairytale love?”

She coughs, picking at a scratchy stud on her arm. “I… no… I mean… maybe…”

You clap your hands once, grinning as you watch your friend’s face burn hotter. “Well, would you look at that! For once, I’m not the one that’s crazily in love and stupidly giddy!”

“Stop, Y/N!” She whines, playfully hitting your arm. “And plus, um, our face masks are hardening. It’s time to wash them off. I’m going to the bathroom. Um. Bye!”

And she’s taking off towards the bathroom, the sound of running water jolting you from your thoughts about… him.

Yoongi.

You bite your lip, wondering how pathetic you could possibly be. He doesn’t love you. He probably has a girlfriend and is about to get engaged. He probably doesn’t even remember you.

You look up at the blinding white ceiling, the soothing forest sounds playing from the speaker you forgot about now your only source of comfort.

Because the last two were “probably”’s, but the first one was a fact- Yoongi didn’t love you, and he never did.

~’’~

“For the last time, Nari, I’m 100% sure she likes you back. Just text her, tell her to meet up with you, confess at some cute caf-”

“No, Y/N! You don’t get it, I’m, like, really, really sure she likes the coffee shop server we met the other day, they were practically making out and- oh god, don’t even remind me about the lovey dovey googly eyes!” Nari stomps her foot childishly as you sigh for the upteenth time.

“Nari, just-” Your eyes widen, a brilliant yet sneaky-ish idea popping into your head. “Actually, it’s okay if you don’t want to just yet. I advise you to go take a shower though, wouldn’t want to be stinky, right?”

“But I’m not going anywhere special-”

“HAHAHAHAHA it doesn’t matter HAHAHAHA just go, go take a shower, go go go right now!”

“You’re acting weird…”

“HAHAHAHA am I now?”

“Um. Yeah. Alright. I’ll go shower. Bye.”

“BYE!”

“You’re being very enthusiastic.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah… bye though.”

It was an ordinary Saturday morning with Nari lounging at your place, complaining that Chohee wasn’t paying attention to her. So you’d tried to convince her to confess- which didn’t work, by the way.

Anyway, with Nari now in the shower and screaming along to “Chandelier” by Sia, you were ready to launch your plan into action.

Swiping her phone off the counter, you typed in the password (which she’d told you, as you told her yours as well) as fast as your glittery fake nailed thumbs could manage, plastic click-clacking against the oil-smudged screen. Nari had a habit of never washing her hands before texting, even after some good ol’ cheetos or fried chicken.

You click on the Textalk app and swipe down until you find Chohee’s contact (written “Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑").

10:42 am

Nari Lee said: hey chohee :) u there? Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: nari Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: r u ok Nari Lee said: of course im ok :D Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: O-o hmm but u never use emoticons Nari Lee said: oh i just found out that i like them haha

10:43 am

Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: *raises eyebrow* Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: ok yeah im here, wassup? Nari Lee said: so… i was just wondering if ur free today for lunch, i have something to say to u Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: oh yeah ofc! where?

10:44 am

Nari Lee said: um how about magnolia cafe? @12? Chohee baby ♥❦✶⭑ said: awesome! ill be there <3 Nari Lee said: sweet!

~’’~

“So…” You say, casually sliding into Nari’s room. She’s in a fluffy white bathrobe, brushing her hair and singing to herself. “What do you say for lunch at the Magnolia Cafe today?”

She shrugs. “Why not? I just showered, anyway.”

You smirk evilly. “Great! Make sure to put on some makeup and wear something nice.”

“Got it!”

~’’~

“Y/N!” Nari whisper-yells to you. “What in the name of my fuckin’ soggy underwear is Chohee doing here?!”

You hum, unbothered, as you skim over the menu. “How should I know? Anyway, I’m going to order some brunch. How about you?”

“Y/N! Ugh, shut the fuck up, I’m having a life threatening crisis right now! And why is she looking at me? And waving?”

You just smirk, shrugging. “Oops, gotta use the toilet. Bye!” You then dash off towards an empty table right behind theirs, wanting to laugh like a commando mad scientist. Your plan was done, and now it’s just time to see if it works.

Chohee walks over to Nari, and you see her visibly gulp. “Hey, Nari! You said there was something important you wanted to say to me?”

“Uh… I don’t… no? I don’t have anything to say?”

“Oh? Ah, I see. You’re making it suspenseful. Haha, I think I’ve had enough suspense. Spill!”

“Um… I like omelets?”

“What?”

“I… I like plants?”

“Excuse me?”

“Uh, I like you- WHAT AM I SAYING?!” Nari’s hand flies up to cover her mouth. Chohee furrows her brows.

“You… like me? Like, like like me? As more than a friend?”

“I-”

Chohee leans over the table and kisses her full on the lips, the sight so endearing you chuck out your phone and snap 18 photos. When they separate, Chohee’s grinning, Nari’s face a dark crimson and her bottom lip trembling. She touches it.

“You… kissed… me…”

“Mhm.”

“So does that mean-”

“I’d love to go out with you, Nari.”

And they’re giggling again.

~’’~

“HAVE A SAFE TRIP!!” Nari and Chohee call after you for the 26th time, waving like maniacs. You smile.

“I WILL!”

This was going to be the most exciting 2 weeks of your lifetime- you were going to Italy.

Italy.

~’’~

The small coffee shop is cute, light Italian jazz music playing in the background. The wooden walls are adorned with pictures of the owner’s family, the sweet smell of coffee beans drifting in the air.

To put it simply, it’s perfect.

Perfect for an exhausted coffee lover like you.

“A latte, please-” You pause when the server furrows his brow.

“You… eh… wan’ coffee wit’ milk, no? Not jus’ milk?”

“I mean, um…” You immediately pull up your phone and type into Google Translate. “... caffe latte.”

He nods. “Non c’e problema!” And a minute later, your latte is in your hands, the delicious smell wafting up your nostrils.

You sit down on a cushioned seat, marveling at the decorations and how cozy and warm it makes you feel. Taking a sip of your drink, you smile.

The moment is peaceful and happy, the chatter of the other customers fading in your ears as you just smile. No one to interrupt your daydreaming, no one to come over and call your name-

“Y/N?”

Your eyes shoot up, a familiar pair of cat-like ones staring at you. His hair is black as night, swept carelessly against his perfect forehead. His cute pink lips are jutted out in a tiny pout, pale moonlight skin practically shining. He’s ethereal, and hasn’t changed one bit.

“Y/N?” He says again, tilting his head slightly.

“O-oh. Um. Hey, Y-Yoongi, um, didn’t expect to see you here…” You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your head.

He laughs too, sitting down in the seat opposite yours with a black espresso in his hands. “Yeah, I found a job here. You?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Cool.”

You stare at each other, having nothing to say. It’s like you want to stretch this moment out forever, stretch it until it erases all the horrible things he said and did to you.

He speaks again. “How long has it been?”

“What?”

He closes his eyes, clasping the mug between his hands tightly. “How-how long has it been- since I last saw you?”

You look down at your lap. “2 years.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Your eyes start to wet, a lone tear slipping past your eyelids. There was no barrier now, more droplets following the first one’s lead and cascading down your cheek. “Stop.”

He doesn’t stop, instead choosing to nab at your heartstrings with more words. “I’m so sorry, I only realized how bad I fucked up when you left… I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N, I thought about you every fucking day-”

“Stop it now-”

“And I realized that I love you more than anything, that you were the treasure I held onto without even knowing I valued you that much. Why do you think I chose to come to Italy? Because I knew it was always your dream to visit here, and I hoped I would run into you somehow. I lived like that, in heartbreak and hope and desperate love and whatever the fuck else every single day, just praying you’d forgive me, praying that you’d come here and tell me that you still love me-”

“Yoongi.” You stand up, slamming the table. Your chest is heaving, breathing heavily as you try to take in everything that he said. “Stop. It. Stop saying sorry. “Sorry.” So what? Sorry won’t help anything, I don’t love you and we are over. In fact, there is not even a “we” anymore. You are you and I am me, completely separate, all ties cut, whatever you want to call it.”

“Y/N-” Yoongi’s voice is desperate, those forlorn eyes swimming with melancholy. You cut him off.

“Shut up, Yoongi!” His lip trembles, looking up at you. You feel a pang of guilt, but throw it away along with all your other feelings. Everyone at the coffee shop is looking at you two, the server mumbling something.

You don’t care.

No, you don’t care about anything.

Not about how much you missed him, how much your heart ached, how much you wanted to just fling yourself into his arms and kiss him- convinced he was a changed man.

Not about how he was pleading you right now, fat droplets rolling down his blanched cheeks as he whispered “I love you”’s over and over again.

Not about how the coffee shop server was hurriedly jogging towards you, incomprehensible Italian filling the air.

This was supposed to be a safe place.

The sweet scent and lulling conversations you fell in love with just moments ago, replaced with bitter words and the sound of tears.

You don't care.

Why are you crying, then? Why are those salty droplets cascading down your face? Why are you fighting so hard between your heart and your brain, trying to decide which to listen to?

Should you take him back, act like nothing has happened like your heart tells you to? Or should you give him the ignorance he deserves, leave the coffee shop and try to forget about this whole catastrophe like your brain says?

"Do you love him? Yes, you do. So choose me, your heart."

"Choose me, Y/N, your brain. I'm telling you to be rational."

You shut your heart out, brain taking over control. Yoongi deserves this. This of indifference, apatheticness, maybe even hatred.

“I don't love you, Yoongi.”

And you were out.

~''~

That night in your hotel room, you cry and cry and cry until the familiar “ding a ling ding a ling ding a ling ding dong” of a Textalk video call wakes you up from your thoughts.

You pick up, wiping all your tears until there is no trace of them left. “H-hey, Nari,” You hiccuped.

“Y/N, what is going on?” Nari’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries to read your face. “It’s the first day of your dream vacation and you’re crying? Tell me what happened, please.”

“Yeah, you don’t look too good…” Chohee chimes in, sticking her head into the screen. “Don’t tell me you were robbed or something? Oh, no. No no no no. Please let it not be that.”

You smile halfheartedly, trying to change the subject. “Hey, Chohee. Staying the night?”

She nods, concern still painted over her face. “Mhm. But that’s not important, can you please just tell us what happened? It’s okay if it’s something small or stupid, we’re your friends and we’ll be here for you no matter what. We’re just… really concerned, and-”

“Yoongi.” Nari says suddenly, eyes wide.

“W-what? Y-Yoongi? What- what about him? I-I mean, I d-didn’t run into him, I-I’m just a-asking…” Your eyes are wider than cantaloupes, praying she wasn’t some psychic and had mystical powers or whatever.

She sits up from her previous lying-on-her-stomach position abruptly, looking at your stunned state. “Yoongi… do you remember he said he always wanted to visit Italy? He… was he there? Did you run into him?”

You are unable to speak, stuttering as your lip trembles. “Y-yes.”

Chohee and Nari both scream.

“THE WHAT?!”

“YOU RAN INTO YOONGI?!”

“Guys!” You yell, trying to somewhat calm them down (although you needed calming down yourself, too). “Stop! It wasn’t much, okay? Just- just some… talking, and then I left! That’s all!”

They look at each other, not sure whether to believe your explanation or not. Chohee opens her mouth a few times, as though pondering if she should speak or not- and no words come out.

“Really!” You exclaim, trying to convince them. You throw your hands up into the air for exaggeration, trying your hardest to look like you’re telling the truth. “We were like, um, best friends! Like nothing happened! And the coffee server didn’t come and shoo us out! He didn’t! And Yoongi didn’t cry or apologize or anything!”

Nari sighs. “Look, Y/N. I’m only saying I believe you because if I don’t you’ll bug me forever. But seriously, as your best friends, Chohee and I hereby promise to smack Yoongi in the face and shove skunk poop up his pretty nose. Right?” she looks at Chohee expectantly.

Chohee nods. “Yep. And don’t forget about the eating facial cream and drowning in turnip juice part. Y/N, I don’t care who it is, but if they dare to hurt you I will not hesitate to knock their teeth out.”

“If they even dare to insult you in any way, I’ll help Chohee knock their teeth out. I'll do most of the work, obviously, since... actually…” Nari pauses, biting her lip as she thinks. “Maybe, if it’s Mingyu that insults you, I’ll let him go…”

Chohee smacks her arm, rolling her eyes as Nari yelling a loud “what was that for?”. “For heaven’s sake, Nari! That totally ruined the moment.”

Nari shrugs, shooting Chohee a glare. “What, are we shooting a drama or something?”

You smile, looking down into your lap as your two friends bicker and give each other friendly smacks.

Maybe, just maybe, this world wasn’t unfair to you after all- you found happiness outside of Yoongi and the world of romance.

Maybe.

~''~

Okay. I did okay with the ending, right???? I did okay with the plot, right???? I didn't make Yoongi too horrible, right????

Right.

Okay.

Welp, anyway, remember to check my blog for updates on when part 2 is coming!

-*+ Rose +*-

#yoongi angst #yoongi series #yoongi x you #batb yoongi #bts angst #bts series #bts x you #sniffle sniffle my bbs

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whyarewecalledtheshipname · 3 years ago

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soriku little mermaid thread part 4

(Part 3)

Part 4: Under a Watchful Eye

So right after Triton shatters Eric’s statue (rip) comes Ursula’s temptation. In the form of her pet eels lol: “We represent someone who can help you.”

“Someone who can make all your dreams come true.”

“Just imagine—you and your prince—together forever.”

Now how does Ursula already know to manipulate Ariel through Eric, without ever having met her? Because Ursula has been watching Ariel this whole time! Cool! Amazing. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Since the beginning of the movie. Ursula was watching Ariel to find a way to get to Triton. She’s after his crown, his power. Ursula isn’t after Ariel herself.

Kinda makes me think about MoM possibly having been watching Riku for who knows how the fuck long (*cough* the eye in all of Riku's blades until now), and manipulating/molding Riku to his will through Sora, as part of MoM’s plan against a bigger target: Darkness. Am I saying MoM is Ursula in this parallel? Yes. lol

Anyway, Ariel refuses to turn to Ursula for help at first, but the eels kinda shove the shattered remains of Eric’s statue—his broken face—in Ariel’s face, and she gives in.

I’ve said this before in some older post but, while this lines up well with Kh1 Riku and Maleficent, I gotta ask: might Riku be tempted once more? And by who? Oop

“Come in, my child. We mustn’t lurk in doorways. It’s rude. One might question your upbringing.”

A segway into more royal/god riku spam bc, Ariel literally gives up her home, her family, her voice, her status—her life as she knows it—to be reborn as a human. Delicious.

The spell. Ursula will turn Ariel into a human for three days (I wonder if that could ever come up in-game). For the spell to be permanent, Eric and Ariel have to share True Love’s Kiss before the sun sets on the third day. If they don’t, Ariel will turn back into a mermaid, and “belong” to Ursula.

The only thing Ursula asks for as payment, is Ariel’s voice.

Now the voice thing gets me looking every which way because—after a bunch of bs scribbling, I’ve semi come to equate Ariel’s lost voice with Sora’s lost memories, specifically his lost memory of Riku's sacrifice. Ya, it took me a minute because, well, Ariel is Riku. So I kept trying to think of what Riku could be made to give up in the future, for the sake of the parallel. After all, Ariel losing her voice is kinda the whole reason the plot happens the way it does.

But for now, I equate Ariel’s voice to Sora’s memories because, it’s the key thing that is the root of Eric’s and Sora’s confusion, regarding their true love. More on that later ig.

Ursula takes Ariel’s voice, and traps it. In a necklace. A necklace Ursula has been wearing this whole time.

Man, I hope we address the necklaces in riku game.

Ariel proceeds to like. Literally be reborn. She becomes like an egg/embryo thing and everything.

Riku?? Uh?????

(Part 5)

#the little mermaid #soriku #the little mermaid thread #little mermaid part 4 #riku's stalker lmao #riku's rebirth #com istg #three days #a time limit perhaps???#a week???

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hurtsprincess · 4 years ago

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Another day, another tag - @loveyouhomex asked me to do this playlist tag and now, two days late, I will of course do it because aaaah, I love talking about music! So thank you for tagging me again, dear, much appreciated ☺️

It goes like this:

put your favorite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs then tag ten people!

(I’m using my Best-of-2020-playlist for this one)

Sally’s Song - Amy Lee

Gangsta’s Paradise - 2WEI (... these guys do epic orchestra-film-music-kind-of remixes of famous songs and they’re really, really good! I know a few songs by them and they all make you feel so epic and heroic, haha)

Hi-Lo (Synthesis live) - Evanescence

Running All Night - Zayde Wølf

Lacrymosa (Synthesis live) - Evanescence (...okay, this one is probably one of my most-played songs of last year. I mean - one of my favourite bands playing one of my favourite songs with full orchestra? I’m SO here for that! 😍 I had the pleasure to see this project live back in 2018 and last year, I fell for the whole live-recorded album again - and especially vor Lacrymosa, which holds a special place in my heart ❤️)

The Time of Axe and Sword is Now - Sonya Belousova, Giona Ostinelli, Declan De Barra & Lindsay Deutsch (...this one is from the soundtrack of Netflix’ “The Witcher” series, which I have never watched, but I love the soundtrack of it. It inspires me so much for writing! This piece here is played when a city falls and the reigning family can only escape captivity by taking poison... I think you can really feel their desperation and these doomsday-vibes in the song, it’s so, so intense...)

Burroughs & Bukowski - Empathy Test

Endlessly - Muse (...nope, no joke 😅 subtile reminder that I got a certain FF to finish, I guess? By the way, for anyone who’s interested, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that one - I will pick up writing on the second chapter again as soon as I finished another project that I first really, really need to bring to an end now... *cough* it’s a novel. I’m writing a book *cough cough*)

Surrender (Acoustic) - IAMX (Beautiful. Haunting. Intense. Love it! Who of you has watched “How to get away with murder”? It’s in the soundtrack in the non-acoustic version, as well as much other stuff by IAMX. That’s also how I discovered him, haha)

Flugmodus - Clueso (... for the German-speakers among you - “Schwarze Wolken, eisblauer Swimmingpool, ich hör deiner Stimme zu... und es ist alles okay, alles gut, Augen zu, Flugmodus an - Baby, ich bin gleich da...” - how can you not automatically relax at this chorus?! ❤️)

So, that’s it! I’m sorry for writing so much, oops - again, I just love talking about music. I could have easily explained the whole 200 songs of my playlist to you, without a problem haha. And because I don’t know ten people here to tag neither, I’m just gonna leave this open - whoever wants to... feel free to spam me with your music! 😌❤️

#tag

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22ratonthestreet · 4 years ago

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APPARENTLY if I send a heart emoji everything after that gets CUT OFF because the bit about not wanting to spam Michael Feelings was only like the FIRST FOURTH of my ask so. I'm annoyed. Anyway I WOULD like to see more of Michael Making His Existence Everyone Else's Problem (I'm glad he's having fun) and more of him being a complete mess with Gerry because as delightful as him getting everyone else off balance is, he deserves to be a little off balance himself. Good for him Gerry thinks its cute

r.i.p. technical difficulties and similarly r.i.p. michael, the spiral makes people’s lives A Whole Trip and while michael loves to hold coins in his mouth so he can pretend to cough them up later while a bystander is watching just to have them thinking about it for the rest of their day, he's absolutely about to get smacked with sincerity like he's never seen but oop ;0 that's gonna have to wait until chapter updates

meanwhile michael being a problem? oh he Is A Problem. he figures out he has neighbors and is like how can i SLIGHTLY inconvenience them? he starts blasting static noise in his apartment. you TRY reporting that to a landlord, what are you gonna describe it as??? the silence is a BIT too TEXTURED?? no. you’re going to slowly go insane listening to it and being unable to tell what it is. michael buys a giant stereo set just for this (Lukas bank card of course), this boy is a BASTARD

he's going to hide put up false advertisements on bus stops for really normal things like garage repair or something, and then wait for people to call him, and then he’ll pretend like he’s actually discussing a deal with them until slowly derailing it into utter nonsense, see how long they can last before hanging up

catch Jude sleeping and draw a mustache onto the tattoo of that guy on her back. how’s she gonna find out??? she wont. r.i.p.

Godspeed op, <3 that’s some hcs about his terrible behavior pre-gerry for SURE

#tma #michael shelley #plantsman's fable #nightshift's story #ask #22ratonthestreet

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latestageyouth · 5 years ago

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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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sweetpxsin · 6 years ago

Text

Stray Kids As Fanboys

Request: @sy-zygy-zacker

Member: Strays Kids

Plot: Can I please have a Stray Kids scenarios where the roles are switched and you’re an idol while the members are your fanboys?

Genre: fluff

Note: should I make another one where they’re idols yet a fan of you and is your significant other? Also I made them friends in this dog if they’re mentioned in each other’s that’s why

[ Masterlist ]

[ C H A N ]

•Sorry did you hear something?

•oh wait that was Chan already arranging a cover of your newest song

•this boy is a dedicated coverist and some day hopes you’ll notice one of them

•and when you do he will actually die no lie

•other fans will probably demand a collab tbh

•but he’s also a really soft stan, that stays up just to watch your lives

•like sleep who? My ulti is calling me

•would rather go to a fan meeting and have a casual conversation with you

•but still would get lit at a concert if he had the chance to go

•gets flustered and soft when other fans ship him with you or say how they believe he has the talent to collab with you

•if he goes live on Instagram he can go on and on about how much admires you and your talent

•probably also as your music playing has background music 25/8

[ W O O J I N ]

•a real chill and lowkey fan that everyone can get along with

•and is also that one fan you can’t tell is a fan until you look into his phone

•or hear him singing one of your songs

•but he’ll post him singing one of your songs ever once and while on his instagram

•isn’t really keen on collecting albums only the ones he really likes

•and he keeps them safe and sound far from the little monsters *cough* maknae line *cough*

•probably also is the type to get decent seats at the concert like not VIP but also not the far way seats

•truly admires your talent and is probably the main reason why he stans

•but also cause he’s a whole ass hoe for you but you didn't hear that from me

•like not to be nsfw but just cause he’s a lowkey stan doesn’t mean he doesn’t rant about how much he wants to hold your hand and cuddle with you

•and if he does feel like going to a fan meet he’s totally the soft most sweetest stan

[ M I N H O ]

•I don’t know what it is about him that makes me believe he’d end up being your backup dancer (note the sarcasm)

•like he went from being a bts back up dancer to being one of your backup dancers

•and even though he tries not to show it half of the time he got heart eyes for you

•but it never gets weird because you both know how to joke around

•and mostly because you can count on walking in on him dancing’s to your dances but crackhead ver.

•uwu’s everytime you give him a signed album or when you want to take a picture with him for your instagram

•Literally that one fan everyone wishes they could be

•probably posts some shit like “Dreaming to take a pic with your fav, can’t relate”

•he doesn’t even need tickets to your concerts dafuq

•might visit you during fansigns because he missed you

•d*spatch is also ultimately confused with his relation with you

[ C H A N G B I N ]

•super soft stan but will have absolutely no problem clowning on some of your wardrobe decisions

•probably calls you dumb but only cause he loves you

•occasionally has soft hours for you

•and when he does he goes off sis, like a whole as spam story with paragraphs about how much he adores you

•”I am: devastated they’re so cute” to “why do I stan an idiot”

•is super shy and awkward during fan meets and might just use his aegyo voice on accident

•blushes so hard when you hold his hand

•and can barely answer your questions he’s so captivated

•still claims he’s a hard stan

•is also probably that one stan that performs your songs with a hairbrush in his bedroom or bathroom

•also isn’t too crazy about merch so if he really wants an album he’s gonna buy it

•otherwise he’s really saving for those VIP tickets bro

[ H Y U N J I N ]

•another pretty chill fan but it’s a bit more obvious that he’s a fan

•only because all his friends know he’s basically in love you

•one mention of your name, or look at you and he’s a shy boi uwu

•will probably get caught staring at you during a concert or fan meet with just a huge smile on his face

•and if you ask if he’s shy during a fan meet because he’s not saying anything, and make eye contact with him, he will look away shyly and freeze (y’all know how jinyoung caught his fanboy stare yeah like that)

•his friends laugh at his “misery” which is basically him uwuing at how soft, talented, rude, etc, you are

•tries to hoe around but somehow always gets pulled back to you for being his ulti

•but that’s okay because he’s the absolute softest for you

•hides his stack of merch in his closet because he doesn’t want to admit he has a problem

•probably knows all your dances and if theres back up dancers he’s gonna learn they’re part

•cause you never know man life might just be fair

•lowkey dreams of dancing next to you one day

[ J I S U N G ]

•that one fan that yells at everyone to shut up when you have a comeback

•will actually scream, cry and go through a rollercoaster of emotion only to tweet “my wig is snatched”

•it’s hard to tell if he’s a soft stan or a hard stan

•but you’re the reason for his lack of sleep, sudden drop in grades and poorness

•that one fan that’s scream crying the lyrics during a concert

•and will probably act like nothing happened afterwards

•usually the one fan screaming in your comment section

•but then tries to act cool and chic during a fan sign but is just shy

•even though he’s a lot softer for you than he’d like to admit

•dies a little in happiness when you touch his hand and won’t wash it till Chan forces him oops won’t wash it till Chan forces him oops

•probably owns more than just your official merch

•that one fan that will literally throw money at your management

•if he’s home alone you can bet he’s jamming out to your songs probably breaking his back

[ F E L I X ]

•he’s the one that makes meme/crack videos of you

•it’s his job to catch every one of your meme faces

•but that’s the reason why he stans and loves you even more

•besides the fact he could totally go on about why he loves, stans and appreciates your goofy ass he really likes your music

•and is probably that one fan that captions his instagram story with “don’t touch me” over a picture of him staring off into the distance when you have a comeback

•he’s not really afraid to admit that you inspire him and that he’s totally in love with you

•if he ever had the chance to go to a fan meet he’d be super soft and smiley the whole time

•probably might even give you a small plushie that has one of your meme faces on it

•giggles like a little school girl if you hold his hand

OH or if you mention how much you love his freckles uwu

•either way you’re both whipped for each other after it

[ S E U N G M I N ]

•makes it a know fact that he knows all your songs, eras and dances

•that one bis that will correct fans and starts it with an “actually…”

•really though he’s a soft stan that’s just trying to make covers for his fave

•but if a hater tries some shit he’ll cut a bitch

•still a really cute and shy fan tho

•he gets really excited when he meets other fans of you

•doesn’t wanna admit he probably fanboys more than he’d like to

•stutters when he sees you during a fan meet because wow your so kind and funny

•is a little too shy to have soft hours on his instagram story but when he does it’s the purest most fluffiest

•probably owns all of your albums digitally and physically

•and super proud about it but literally no one is allowed to touch them

•not even woojin

[ J E O N G I N ]

•the softest stan everyone wishes they are

•is the type of fan to post a fan picture of you on his story admiring how pretty/handsome and soft you are uwu

•and probably gets shipped with you because of it

•isn’t really that crazy for merch but might treat himself with an album or two

•if he ever got the chance to go to a fan meet he’d probably get you a cute little plushie in hopes you can keep it

•also gets really shy and can't stop smiling because he can’t believe he’s meeting his fave

•is a caring little bean and will ask if you ate or rested well •you might as well just be whipped because he’s just so cute

•might post small covers of your songs on his social

•if he’s at a concert all he’s either hyped asf or admiring you

•honestly the purest stan you could ask for

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theprodigypenguin · 6 years ago

Note

Aaaaahhhhh I found your blog only like an hour ago but can I say very quickly that.... I love you!💛 lol your jokes!!!? and collection of awesome posts and just sorry (not sorry) for spamming your notes, oops but you post about all the awesome ships here and I should really get off tumblr but I can'ttttt😭😭 and also I saw you mentioning jeddy and jegulus fic that you're currently writing and ummm where could I find your posted fanfic? if I was very interested *cough*desperate for your content??

This is the cutest question I could have gotten, especially before work, thank you so much for sending it in

My content is posted on my Ao3 account here.

So far I only have one Jeddy fic published, called Moon Sick, but I’m also going to be posting four entirely new Jeddy fics starting April first, because I’m going to be participating in @jeddyfest this year.

My Jegulus is the only multichapter work I have that I’m super invested in. So far there are three chapters, and the fourth one is in the works. None of it is beta-d though, just roughly edited with some rewritten parts. It’s kind of an ambition undertaking on my part, but I REALLY wanted to write it. You can find that Jegulus fic here, but be prepared for some hardcore angst and dark themes.

I also have some sibling centered fics and a Scorbus that I absolutely freaking hate, as well as a handful of Voltron drabbles for Sheith and Jeith.

Thank you so much for sending in an ask, I hope you enjoy my writing as much as you enjoy my shit posts. Have an absolutely wonderful day my friend! And don’t worry your heart about spamming me, I don’t mind at all!

#bullshit amelia rambles #amelia answers asks #jeddy #jegulus #scorbus #amelia writes #writing #fanfiction #Ao3 #james sirius potter #james potter i #regulus black #teddy lupin #Scorpius malfoy #albus severus potter #thank you so much for your ask!#i hope you enjoy reading!

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thedemonconstantine · 2 years ago

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asktinytitanszatara:

Flying the kite was fun, Zach hadn’t flown one in a long time. He practically ran circles around John who was struggling with cardio. Maybe being younger gave him an advantage.

“That was really enjoyable, the kite really did last a long time. Who were you looking at?”

Zatanna once told Zach that John had a wandering eye. He never understood what it meant until today, not that he minded or judged.

“Tea time…that sounds interesting. What type of tea?”

He knew that there were a whole bunch of different teas out there. Afterall he usually had some if Zatanna was making some. Each one had its own taste to it. But going home made sense.

“I can take my own bath, It’s not that hard. Also, I will make sure to wash behind my ears.”

Besides, the last thing he needs is to miss an episode of his favorite show. Also, he might borrow some of Zatanna’s bubble bath solution. It smells super good and relaxing. But he doesn’t want to fall asleep in the tub. Best to stick to regular soap and bubbles.

“So, what comes first me bathing or the tea?”

“Aye well, we’ll see woh Zee-zee’s larder coughs up now ‘n yeh kin pick ‘n choose,” John said after grumbling about kids these days and their penchant for tripping up adults. He carried Zachary from under the arms, plucking the boy off the field to place him back on the pavement. All that running about was giving John a headache.

“Ally-oop! Alrite den let’s go gitcher bicycle ‘n we’ll ‘ead on ‘ome,” He pointed to where they parked and then John would lead the way home. At least part of it was thankfully downslope.

“Wash be’ind yeh ears ‘n in yeh belly but’on, between yeh toesies ‘n yeh bum, alrite lad?” John reminded when they got to the mansion and he’d head into the kitchen whilst Zachary cleaned up.

“Baff first den tea!” He called after going through the condiments to whip up some fried egg and spam sandwiches. A peanut butter and jelly one too, with a bit of Nutella right in the middle.

John opened the tea cabinet and immediately regretted it. Zee had TOO much tea. Earl grey, darjeeling, English breakfast, Tie guanyin, Assam black, Jasmine green, white chrysanthemum…

“Cor fokkin’ Christ, woman! ‘ow many plants didje bloody murder?!”

#hellblazer #john constantine #zachary zatara #the tiny titan #after school

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yaelsstory · 7 years ago

Text

Product Of A Murderer - Chapter 6

I’m sorry for spamming, guys. I’ve been neglecting this Tumblr-blog. For a little while, I’ve been thinking about erasing it as I raised the bar too high for myself, but I got over that. As I’m trying to get it back up to date, I’m posting all the finished chapters at once, so I can post my new chapters at the same moment as I post them at AO3.

So please accept my apologies, I’m doing it to feel more comfortable, so I don’t have to stress out about this :)

Summary: Yaël, a twenty-four years old girl with the powers to control the four elements, lost all her memories after a terrible incident. While trying to get her memories back, she somehow befriends Wade Wilson and Peter Parker. It’s a bumpy road, because after being gone for almost a year, everyone thinks she’s dead and there are many different reactions to her comeback. That …and while struggling to remember her life as it was before, she discovers that she isn’t who she thought she was. Maybe there are a few things she doesn’t want to remember at all… .

Note: This story is the third part of the Sweet Child of Mine-serie. You can read the other parts of this serie on AO3 on my account (Caspinn) or on my friend’s account (kalkoenvsneoklak).

If you want to read more about the story of Peter, Tony and Steve, you should read part one of the series: Being a Stark.

If you’re interested in the story of Natasha Romanoff and James “Bucky” Barnes, I suggest you to read part two of the series: Golden Locks, Silver Arms.

The next day, too, Yaël went to work. She even did some extra hours to please Diego. It rained all day, which sucked for someone who had to work outside. She surely hoped she wouldn’t get a cold again.

A few hours later, she walked back home, looking muddy and completely soaked. Her shoes made squishy noises as she walked into the hallway. Once she opened the door to her apartment, she sprinted into the shower, leaving her clothes on. After that, she hung her clothes to dry, put on a gigantic T-shirt, panties and nothing else.

She laid down on the fluffy rug with her cello and started tuning on the strings. After she fiddled with the instrument for a while, she got up and got a book and a blanket and installed herself in her sofa.

Yaël opened her eyes and stood in the familiar forest once again. Okay, so she fell asleep, oops. She’d surely have a sore neck the next morning from sleeping in the sofa.

“Welcome back.” There he was, the black-haired dude. This time, he had a braid tucking his hair back. It looked kind of awesome, though.

“Cool hair!” Yaël grinned.

“What? Oh…You once did this to me, actually.” He said with a smirk. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Yaël noticed there was no cage this time, she was free to move, probably because she broke it last time. Wait, that’s not logical at all, because it was a dream. But dreams never had any logic, did they? And where were all the other people by the way? Why were they in the last dream but not in this one? Would this guy have something to do with it?

“Why would I braid your hair?” she asked him casually while following. He was walking towards the little house where he walked out a while ago when she dreamt like this.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of a habit to have braids around here. I think my unbraided hair annoyed you.” Here? Where is here? Where were they? Yaël looked around, but all she could see were trees and darkness. As she looked up, she could see the lines of a few towers and turrets from some kind of castle far, far away, like she had seen before in these dreams.

The closer Yaël got to the cottage, the older it started to look, but also well maintained. Someone had taken care of all those flowers around the small building. Someone must’ve painted these shutters a thousand times and someone must’ve spend hours of keeping the ivy, curling up against the walls, in control.

Why could she almost see someone do it?

The man held the rounded door open for her. The light coming from the house looked inviting. Yaël’s mouth fell open as she walked in. The interior looked cozy and warm. There were plaids and rugs everywhere. An open fire warmed up the room and, together with a few candles, lighted it. There were no signs of electricity or modern devices of any kind. The bed was placed behind a big sort of curtain which served as a door and stood open a bit so Yaël could see it.

“I used to live here…” she mumbled to herself. The man, who decided to sit down for a minute while she looked around, stayed silent. “Who lived here with me?” Yaël turned around and saw that black-head eating a pear from the big basket of fruit standing next to the old, comfy-looking chair he was sitting in. So he was kind of stealing her pears now?

The man swallowed a piece of the fruit before he answered. “You lived here with your father a long time ago. A very, very long time ago. His name was-“

“Cem,” she interrupted him, remembering bits and pieces of the story. Cem, her dad, had been a big, muscular man with a grey beard, long, grey hair that was almost always braided and happy wrinkles of laughter under his eyes. His grey hair fitted with his blue eyes, blue because of being able to steer water, like a piece of art.

Suddenly, a memory came across Yaël’s mind, which made her flinch her a bit. She suddenly understood what the man meant with a long, long time ago, since her dad had died a long time ago. A very long time ago. Her dad had been coughing for a whole while, and after some time, the phlegm turned into blood. He died of some form of tuberculosis and Yaël stayed behind, alone.

Her mother, Agostina, had never been in the picture. She died when Yaël couldn’t even walk yet. Apperantly, Yaël had a younger sister, Nilla, who stayed in town when her father decided to move out. But why? Why did a young kid like Nilla decided to stay alone in a town? And why did Cem decide to move out of that town?

“You’re frowning, that doesn’t look pretty on you,” the man mumbled nonchalant while still hanging in the chair.

“Do you know why we moved into the forest? I mean like, there’s nobody else living here.” The man stood up and walked around.

“You once told me you were banished from town,” he answered while he fiddled with a plaid hanging against a wall and held his other hand behind his back.

“Why?”

“Because everyone thought you were ‘damaged’-“

“For having these weird powers?” she interrupted him.

“For having no powers at all.”

What?! “That doesn’t make sense, I can steer the four elements!”

He let the plaid go and turned to her, standing with his both hands behind his back. Every move he made, was gracious, like he was royal or something.

“There was a time you didn’t have those powers,” he answered “I even met you when you still had no powers. So the king saw no use in you, and banned you as he was afraid you carried a disease that could infect others. He also wanted to make sure this way that you’d never reproduce. Because how could you have kids if you never came in contact with any men, right? And Cem didn’t want to send you alone in the woods, so he came with you and built this house, all on his own.”

“Then why didn’t my sister come with us?” Yaël felt like she knew the answers to all of her own questions, but she wanted him to tell it to her. She wanted to hear everything, so she was sure she wasn’t imagining stuff, even though he was just a part of her dream.

“Oh, but Nilla was very talented with her power: fire. The king kept her, so she’d work for him. She still does, I guess.”

“Wait, so, if I understand this correctly, I lived in a country where all people could steer the elements?”

“Well, everyone could steer one element, no one actually could do what you do: steering all four of them. Your dad steered water and your sister fire. Your mother had heterochromia, so she was one of the few people who could steer a bit of fire and a bit of air.” What was this town, or land or whatever? There was no place on earth like this one, right? Where there countries filled with people with powers to steer the elements?

“So…where the freaking freck on earth are we? And why can I steer all four elements if nobody else can do that?” The guy smirked at her.

“Oh, my dear, we’re not even on earth… And your second question is a bit harder to explain.” No, that’s impossible, right? Well, at least, that would explain why Yaël still didn’t know half of how earth worked. Like the voting system; it freaked her out.

And she remembered taking the bus for the first time, that was way too complicated for her to understand, with the paying and then following the screen that flickered and kept saying the same stop because apparently it was broken and Yaël somehow had to guess where her stop was and then she didn’t know she had to push the button so she missed her own stop. The bus driver got angry at her for yelling “STOP!” so loudly.

“So I’m like, an alien?”

“There’s no shame in that as I am an alien too. From a different planet, though, but still some sort of alien.”

“Which planet is this?” Yaël asked as she looked through the window. It surely was a planet filled with trees.

“This planet’s called He-“

“YAËL, WAKE UP GIRLIE!” Yaël almost jumped out of bed from getting scared up.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled while rubbing her eyes. Who woke her- Oh, it surely was that freaking Wade again. He was the only one who called her ‘girlie’ and who would wake her up like this. Was he making a habit of waking her up? Yaël stamped towards the door and pulled it open aggressively.

“Wow, good morning, angry German bitch.” Wade cocked an eyebrow as he saw Yaël’s murderous looking face.

“Dude, I was so close from knowing what planet I came from!”

“Oh, sor-“

“Don’t say sorry, you jerk! You couldn’t know! Come in.” she grumbled pissed.

“So, you’re an alien? I told you Fury and X kept something from you.” Wade said while Yaël made a cup of coffee for him. Wade visited her for no specific reason. He knew she only had to work in the afternoon today, so he simply jumped in during the morning.

“Do you think they knew?”

“I don’t know, probably. Why don’t you ask them?” That was a good idea, she should call one of them. “So do you remember what language they speak on your planet?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s a bit complicated. We speak two languages, but in our dialect, we mix those two,” Yaël scratched her head, how could she remember the two/three languages she spoke, but not the name of the planet she came from? “One language is a specific one from our planet itself. The other one is Norwegian.”

“What? Norwegian? That’s a random language…Why would they speak that?”

“I don’t know,” Yaël shrugged.

“Well, count to ten in Norwegian for me!” Yaël laughed, this was so weird, a few hours ago, she didn’t even remember that she had another mother tongue.

“Uhm, let me see… Null, en, to, tre, fire, fem, seks, syv, åtte, ni, ti.” Wade clapped for her way to enthusiastically

“That sounds so crazy! Let me try it!”

Somehow Wade managed to pronounce every word correctly.

“Dude, are you Norwegian yourself or are you an alien too?” Yaël asked with a wide grin.

“Alt bra? Wow, detteermoro!” Wade answered her ‘How are you? Wow, this is fun!’ in fluent Norwegian. How did he even…?

“Wade, stop it, you’re freaking me out.” Yaël muttered. She’d never understand how this guy’s brain works, but it surely was freaking creepy.

“Do you want to go party tonight?” Wade randomly asked. Yaël was eating breakfast and Wade joined her around the table, sipping from his coffee.

“I have to work until seven, but I’m free tomorrow…meh, why not.”

“Good!” the guy grinned. Yaël somehow doubted if partying with Wade would be the most responsible thing to do, but whatever. Having some fun wasn’t a crime, right?

Wade stayed for the rest of the morning. They watched a few episodes of their series and made some arrangements for the night. Yaël quickly ate some soup, shooed Wade away and went to work again. She had to go Mr. and Mrs. Thompson again, so that was great! Would they have made some cookies again? While walking to the old couple’s house, she took her phone.

Wade was right, she should call professor X, maybe he’d know where she came from. She could also wait until she slept again, but she didn’t always dream about the forest, so there was no certainty in getting more info via the dream within this week and she really, really wanted to know it as soon as possible. But Yaël didn’t want to bother or disturb X once again.

On the other hand, Fury wouldn’t pick up the phone and X literally told her she should call him more frequently if something was wrong.

As soon as the beeping stopped and she heard a soft crack from someone picking up the phone, Yaël started speaking because she knew X didn’t always have the habit of starting to speak as he picked up.

“Hi, mister X?”

“Yes. Hello, Yaël.”

“Hi, uhm, I have a new problem.”

“Your apartment got warmed up again, right?”

“Yes, yes, thank you for that!” Oh, wow, she felt like she sounded ungrateful.

“Okay, so what can I help you with?” he asked kindly.

“Uhm, so I dreamt again and, eh, I kind of discovered I’m from another planet. But somehow I remember the languages I speak, but I simply can’t remember the planet itself. So, I was wondering if you knew the name of my planet.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t have that information.”

He had to be kidding her, right? He read her files, he helped her through the tests once she woke up in that hospital-ish place. He must’ve got some info about her birthplace.

I’m afraid you never had the chance to tell mister Furywhere you’re from, or that he never wrote it in your files anyways and I never took the opportunity to dig into your mind for that info, X said in her head. Great, why did she even bother to call that man if she could just ‘think’ to communicate with him. Oh, shit, she never told him she accidentally met Steve in the park.

Oh. Fuck. Yaël, stop thinking.

“That’s okay, Yaël.” He started speaking through the phone again.

“W-why were you in my head and now- heh?” she muttered confusedly.

“Sometimes I too like to test my powers, Yaël. I’m not at all around New York at this time and I wanted to see if I can reach to you there.”

“You obviously can.”

“Yes, but it’s extremely uncomfortable. I’d say I’d come over to help you, but I have a few meetings this week, spread across the country. If I’d reach further I’d be able to help you from afar, but I’m afraid that won’t work out.”

“That’s okay, sir.”

“I’ll come over to do another session as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, sir. There’s no hurry.” At least she didn’t want him to think he’d have to hurry, he was too kind for her.

She felt a bit frustrated after that phone call. Somehow, she had hoped X had answers for her, but he had none. Maybe she should call Fury? Last time, he let his assistant pick up in his place. But there was no harm in trying, right?

*Beep beep* Yaël sighed, why was she even trying?

“Yes?” Fury sounded a bit annoyed, like he was suspecting that she did something stupid again.

Holy shit, he actually picked up the phone.

“Eh, hi, it’s Yaël. I have a question, mister Fury?”

“What is it?” talking to Fury surely wasn’t as pleasant as talking to X. Fury sounded way more…restive. Probably because he didn’t like her anyways.

So Yaël told her about her recently gained memories and asked him about the planet she came from. His answer was clear.

“Are you calling me for this? I don’t have time for things like this, Yaël. Why don’t you call mister Rogers or whoever about that?” And with that, he hung up.

Because you never informed me that I could contact mister freaking Rogers, dick! Yaël thought. But, it wasn’t a bad idea actually! Steve was going to help her if Fury wanted it or not and he could…he could…Oh, fuck it!

Yaël stomped through the street while slamming on the touch screen of her phone. Wait a bloody minute. Steve’s number wasn’t in her phone… what?! She still didn’t have his number! Suddenly Yaël discovered she walked too far, which didn’t light up her mood.

Yaël had to rake the leaves, the most braindead job the Thompsons could have given her. Well, no, pulling out the weeds like the previous time was most definitely more braindead. Not that she’d ever complain about certain tasks. She’d just put on her headphones and dig into it.

But this time, she needed no music. She could just calm down a bit and think about the situation. Like for instance, if she’d called Steve right after calling Fury, she would have been somewhat more aggressive towards him and afterwards, she’d be sorry about that.

Not that he had never seen her angry before, but still, this situation wasn’t Steve’s fault at all. Guess she just had to be patient about it. With some luck, she’d dream about it that night.

When Yaël was finally finished with raking all the leaves it started pouring rain again. Then the rain turned into hail. Freaking January.

Without even thinking about it, Yaël steered the rain and hail away from her, so it seemed she had some sort of waterproof shield around her. She picked up the leaves and started putting them into big bags. When she looked up, she saw Mrs. Thompson staring at her from her kitchen window, with her mouth fallen open.

Yaël looked up and then it kicked in that her clients didn’t know about her powers at all. What could she do? Yaël panicked and stopped steering the hail. Which caused her getting soaked, but she hoped Mrs. Thompson would think she imagined it. The old woman disappeared behind the window. Yaël should go and get her bag, right? It was time to go. But as she went to get her backpack, someone opened the backdoor.

“Sweet child, come in!” Mrs. Thompson yelled. Yaël looked up confusedly. “Come on, before you get sick!”

Yaël nodded slowly and then took a sprint to the house.

“Here, get a cookie!” Yaël was put in front of an open fire with a trillion blankets wrapped around her. Mr. Thompson was still putting new lumps of firewood into the open fire. Yaël took a cookie from the plate Mrs. Thompson was holding in front of her nose.

“T-thanks,” she said. This wasn’t what she’d thought would happen if she’d use her powers in front of clients.

“So, are you a mutant, too?” Mr. Thompson casually asked while wiping off his hands on his pants. Wow, that question got dropped on her like a bomb. What could she say? Did she have to explain that she was an alien or would that make things go bad?

“Eh, sort of,” she mumbled vaguely.

“We had two grandchildren who were mutants.” Mrs. Thompson happily mentioned. Yaël remembered Mrs. Thompson telling her once that the couple only had one daughter because they couldn’t get any more and that they simply gave up that big-family-dream at some point and gave their daughter and grandchildren all the love they had.

“Well, Scott still is, but many years ago, back in the early nineties, Alex passed away.” She pointed at the pictures of two men, hanging above their open fire. There were many pictures of them, as babies playing on the beach, as kids on a horse mill with their grandmother, as teenagers playing baseball with their grandfather…

Yaël totally didn’t know how to react to that, but it seemed like they didn’t expect her to as they just kept talking. They clearly didn’t need to hear her condolences for something that happened years ago.

“Yup, their parents were always ashamed about the mutant-stuff, though.” Mr. Thompson said. “They always lied, and still lie, about it to everyone. They say they send them to a boarding school for their troubling behavior, but Alex was actually kind of rescued from solitary confinement by this Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, where he was put in for not being able to control his powers. They took him to this school… uh…”

“Xavier’s school for Gifted Youngsters!” Mrs. Thompson helped her husband.

“Yes! And a few years later, Scott started showing his powers as well, which troubled his parents somehow and they called Alex to come and pick up the little one too. He still visits us every now and then and sends us postcards. Lovely young boy.”

Yaël stayed and had dinner with the Thompsons, she felt more welcome than ever. But they had always had the talent for making her feel welcome. They didn’t ask her to show off her powers or anything, they just let her be who she was and accepted her that way. Hopefully Scott knew how lucky he was with grandparents like this.

Mr. and Mrs. Thompson did ask a few questions out of curiosity. Questions like: “So, did you also go to Xavier’s school?” Yaël’s trick was stuffing her mouth with peas so that she’d always have a few seconds before she could answer, because she needed some time to think about it.

She remembered Fury and X discussing the fact that X trained her for a while. That probably happened at his school, right? So she nodded.

“Oh, so then you must know Scotty! He’s a teacher there. Maybe you students called him mister Summers…” Mrs. Thompson chattered happily.

Errr, shit, Yaël was kind of trapped in that one. Quickly she pushed a big spoon of peas into her mouth again. If she went to the school, she must have met Scott there, right? So Yaël nodded again, only to realize that she could’ve put herself into a corner again. Hopefully they didn’t ask her about the course Scott gave or about homework or anything. She surely wished he taught her how to take a bus a while ago.

But luckily, with that Mr. Thompson looked at the clock and told his wife their soap was going to start. So Yaël helped them clean the table and thanked them a thousand times before stepping into the rain again, this time with an umbrella she got from Mrs. Thompson.

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fishdavidson · 7 years ago

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Dream Journal 2017-10-01 (And A Few Days Before That): LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT HOW SCREWED UP MY SLEEP SCHEDULE IS

For the past few days, I’ve been noticeably absent from tumblr. This has been because I have either been not going to sleep, or falling asleep at inopportune times. Please allow me to elaborate on these past few days.

2017-09-28

I had a dream where I was walking through an empty lot next to a church when a man walked up to me and aggressively attempted to bequeath upon me some random acts of charity. Despite loving getting free stuff, I don’t want charity unless I’m actively seeking it out because other people can probably use it more than I can. But before I could tell this guy to go away in a not-nice manner, the dog woke me up with a series of great hacking coughs because she had apparently eaten one of the cat’s hairballs.

2017-09-29

The SNES classic came out this day, and I wanted to be damn sure that I got one. Walmart said they were going to have them out at certain time, but they lied. I ended up staying awake until 3AM in an attempt to get one, napped for three hours, and then went back to Wal-Mart to knock some heads. I successfully acquired the object of my consumerist desire, but the sleep debt I incurred in order to get it is still kicking my butt. I had no dreams this night.

2017-09-30

A reasonable person would probably attempt to sleep a little extra to pay back some of that sleep debt from yesterday. I don’t give two hoots about being reasonable, and attempted to go about my normal routine like nothing was wrong. This was a bad idea, but I was able to wrangle some dream fragments despite needing to sleep several extra hours today:

Composed a sea shanty called “The She-Pirate of the Yellow Sea” which was about a lady pirate captain with fearsome swordfighting abilities. Of course, I forgot all of the words to this song after waking up.

In a closet underneath a set of stairs, I found a half-replied pen pal letter to one of my semi-friends from college. It was written on a stenographer's pad and nailed to the wall of the closet, and I was mortified to see that I hadn’t sent it off yet. That letter should have been sent off two months ago, but uhhh.... oops.

Even though I didn’t remember the words to the pirate song above, my subconscious decided that it was really important to remember this next piece of information. I was helping some people look through some resumes for a potential job opening. One of the applicants named Kaylee, listed her contact phone number as “Output (8**) 8[3|4]3-XX77.″ Despite being an atrocious way to list a phone number, I was able to identify it as being written in an obscure programming language and resolved it to something that actually looks like a proper phone number. I won’t list it here (even though I remember it) because it might be an actual phone number and I don’t want spam bots to do malicious things to the unfortunate soul who owns that number. Also: please never list your phone number like this on a resume if you want to be hired, because it was a pain to decipher.

While floating in the water (either a big lake or an ocean, not entirely sure) in an inflatable pool donut, some curious orange and yellow colored things started coming up from below to bob on the surface. They were called “supernatural peaches” and are sentient peaches with insides made out of orange-colored foam. The peaches were angry and hostile and tried to swarm against me, but I wasn’t scared because they weigh next to nothing and can’t do anything to attack other than brush against me angrily. Related life pro tip: if you grab one out of the water and squeeze really hard, salty peach juice comes out. It’s refreshing, but high in sodium.

2017-10-01

My oldest sister was driving down the highway and ended up running the car off the road and into a drainage area. She had learned that you can take sedans off-roading in specific situations, but had neglected to account for the slope of this particular waterway. The drainage area was equal parts concrete and fertile soil with lush plant growth. A tiny stream of water that was barely ankle deep flowed across the bottom. It was beautiful in a way that’s hard to articulate, but if you painted it, the painting would probably look right at home in an art gallery of landscapes. I traveled to assist my sister with extracting the car from canal, and noticed a suspiciously large culvert behind the car.

Because I have zero qualms about exploring weird places, I went inside and discovered a network of caves that appeared to be occupied by people. Unfortunately, a quick examination of the stuff I found down here led me to realize that this place was actually a secret underground meeting place for Nazis. So I left as fast as my little legs could carry me and “accidentally” backed the car into some of the supports in the mouth of the cave. This caused the whole place to collapse, and the Nazis had no place to organize. Here’s hoping they don’t find another place, because I’ll destroy that one, too, if I hear otherwise.

#dream journal #fishdavidson #fragments #peaches #snes classic #nazi #car #phone #dreams

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cuddlewars · 7 years ago

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Coughs

Im sorry for the johndavekat spam oops

#we88y #sh heegiehhsue sorry yall #i just crave those healthy poly ships

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bibliosexxual · 8 years ago

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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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