#set up a basketball hoop by the trash

[justhellacesome]

Now in regards to lighting, something Ive stumbled upon some time ago and honestly forgot about,

You have to take advantage of ur out of sight and out of mind mindset.

One of the this is lighting. Overhead lights lets you see EVERYTHING in ur room. The things that needs cleaning the thing you haven't finished and things you wanna do. This will obviously overwhelm you and just give you a headache, overstimulate leading to you to procrastinate. (I literally have to buy shaded glasses because my classroom has such bright lights i cant look at my professors at all.) Th

However, lets say you have a lamp, you turn it on and all you can now see is your desk, your schoolwork or your project and everything else is faded out. Out of sight and out of mind. And now you dont feel so overstimulated.

But this can also bite you in the ass too, cuz places that are not lit well and you have most likely ignored, will turn into a mess, so make sure to light up places that needs it, like the kitchen storage and such. Places thats needs to be kept cleaned.

(This is also curious however if eating at the table with a nice candle light would help with giving you reason to eat and something to look forward to that make eating fun. Ive heardnit somewher before but i think your Pre K adhd brain would like it.)

Just take lighting as something like a spotlight, adjust it and make it focus somewhere. Dont do overhead light if not necessary and you afford to, cuz you will just be left with an overall mess you wont be able to finish.

(I can say that from personal experience)

Pretty much just distract the kid so you can take over and do your work.

[aroaceleovaldez]

I think one of the problems with the HoO characterizations is Rick kind of forgot to give half the cast hobbies and general interests, and maybe like people they know outside of their families and outside of camp, or if he did remember to it rarely gets brought up for most of them, or in the special case of Annabeth - she randomly develops a hobby in weaving for exactly one scene and then never again. Apparently she just knew how to do that, even though it is a skill she has literally never used before nor uses again.

The best examples I can give of this are comparing/contrasting the examples of when we do actually get this with the lack-thereof: Hazel and Frank are good examples. Hazel has hobbies and interests generally unrelated to all her demigod stuff (horses and art) and we see this repeatedly discussed and brought up. She also knows and interacts with people outside of the necessities of her quest/Camp Jupiter or her family - Sammy was her best friend at school and they hung out and stuff! Meanwhile, Frank, as far as we know, doesn’t know anybody outside of his family even though he presumably went to school before Camp Jupiter? His hobby is... archery? That’s the only thing he ever really shows interest in but at the same time it only rarely gets brought up except for him using a bow as his main weapon and the like two instances of noting that Frank had hoped he was an Apollo kid for a little bit. The closest other detail we get to Frank having any other kind of hobby/interest is him mentioning off-hand that he used to play Mythomagic.

Piper and Leo - We can presume that Piper knew Shel before moving to Oklahoma, because Piper used to visit her grandpa often and as far as we know that’s also where Shel lives. But we never see Piper ever mention knowing anyone else in her grandfather’s community. Heck, when she’s introduced we’re basically outright told that she doesn’t interact much at all with any of her classmates outside of necessity, and we don’t even have any confirmation that before Hera’s mind-meddling that she even acknowledged Leo’s existence. Also, Piper has like, exactly zero hobbies. We do not know what Piper does in her free time or what she likes (except vaguely that she has surfed before), only really what she dislikes. Leo at least does have some kind of excuse for not really knowing anybody, and an explicit explanation about why that is the case and how he feels about it. Leo also has a repeatedly referenced interest/hobby in mechanics that’s very core to his character.

Percy and Annabeth? Pre-HoO, they both have plenty of interests and know people outside their general circles! Percy knows kids at school. Annabeth’s general outer social circle is Camp Half-Blood, because she grew up there, but she clearly knows people at camp. She’s also super into architecture! And Percy does a ton of stuff in his free time - he skateboards! He plays basketball! He has two pets he takes care of (Blackjack and Mrs. O’Leary)! Post-HoO he’s on a swim team! But during HoO? Percy’s hobbies just kind of disappear, besides “oh yeah he uh. Does water stuff.” There’s no acknowledgement of like, “Yeah Percy sets up a little basketball hoop on the back of his door on the Argo 2 and shoots trash at it.” Literally anything! And yeah, Annabeth’s architecture interest is somewhat acknowledged, but also like, not really? We at least get some kind of “Yeah, in her spare time she’s usually on her laptop working on stuff” but we also barely get any instances of Annabeth thinking about her friends at camp except for like, Tartarus.

For Jason it at least kind of works because a.) he has amnesia and it’s implied he doesn’t really have close friends at Camp Jupiter besides Reyna, so it figures he only ever really references random other legionaries like, twice. and b.) there is also the heavily implication that Jason doesn’t have hobbies, because his entire life was so focused around his training at Camp Jupiter. This works less with Reyna, but she also kind of has an excuse for not knowing people besides like, her sister and Jason, given she ran away when she was young, Circe’s island was destroyed, and she could have only been at Camp Jupiter for like 3 years maximum at that point. And she’s not exactly the most social character. We also don’t get much indication of her hobbies, besides she also likes horses and it’s heavily implied she likes nature/gardens? Presumably, given we get like, one note of that in HoO, maybe two if you count her living on Circe’s island, and then like one more nod to that in TOA. And we only get her POV chapters in BoO anyways so again, she has some excuses. Coach Hedge also is incredibly bland besides maybe him having a hobby in sports, and... violence? Which definitely does not count. And him lacking any POV chapters doesn’t really help.

I think this is why Nico continually feels like such a strong character, simply because we know what he does in his spare time. We know he knows people outside of the camps (most of those people are gods or ghosts, but he at least knows people) and technically you could argue him knowing about Camp Jupiter between BoTL and TLO counts too. He even references his old neighbor at one point. Obviously, he’s very into Mythomagic, and that comes up a lot because it’s his special interest and is usually also relevant to their quests. He travels a lot, and apparently used to when he was younger as well. We also learn he used to have a special interest about pirates and that apparently may have played into his crush on Percy. Like, all that is so simple and minor but it makes such a difference for how Nico feels as a character. Most of Nico’s stuff though is established in the first series, which definitely helps because the first series was pretty good about giving characters hobbies and maybe some people they know - Annabeth, Percy, and Nico we’ve already covered, but also like, Grover knows other satyrs and is usually practicing music and also we know what foods he likes. Thalia is very into punk culture and music. We know she particularly likes Green Day. We know she knew the Hunters of Artemis before the events of TTC. Rachel's whole thing is that she’s super into art and she has a bunch of connections through her rich family, and she’s basically Percy’s only mortal friend. They have lives!

If you put a protagonist in a room and told them to occupy themselves, you should have an answer for what they do. They should be able to name one person outside their immediate social circle who they are generally friendly with or vaguely know, unless they have a specific reason for that to not be the case. HoO crew needs to occupy their time by themselves, no weaponry, for twenty minutes? Hazel could be drawing, Nico could be organizing his cards, Leo could be tinkering, Annabeth could be working on her laptop, Percy could be trying out little skateboard tricks. Jason, Piper, Frank, and Reyna? What would they be doing?

TOA does actually answer that question for Jason, at least, because we learn that Jason makes tiny dioramas! That’s adorable! Why doesn’t he do that in HoO?! TOA also gives us more depth to Will Solace besides “He’s a medic and does medic things” with telling us that he’s into Star Wars. Like, that’s actually so much information to work with! Thank you! And then we also find out in TOA that Nico’s also kinda into art! We still don’t get anything new for Piper, Frank, or Reyna - besides again one more potential implication that Reyna thinks plants are Pretty Okay, and that nature is Mildly Alright. Like, not even “maybe she keeps a houseplant” territory, all we have is “if she had the option, she might be interested in visiting a flower garden.” But honestly TOA at least gives us something for most of the characters we see. Like at least one thing. Most of the rest of the writing is a mess but at least the characters are mildly interesting.

Anyways, give your characters hobbies, it’s good for them.

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 9

Hello!! We find out the name of Eddie’s roadie that spotted the problem at the bar in Part 6. We delve into Steve’s problems a bit. And we meet Steve’s badass lawyer.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8

***

Steve woke up at 6am like he always did. He knew that he wouldn’t be hearing from any of the Corroded Coffin boys until later in the morning but he was anxious to be doing something, anything. So he messaged Lucas that he was going to go for a run and hopped into the shower.

He was pleasantly surprised to see the man dressed for running in shorts and a tank top. Steve nodded appreciatively.

“Just a heads up,” he said, setting his smart watch for the run, “I’ve had a really anxious last couple of days and I tend to run harder to combat that.”

Lucas half shrugged. “I’m game for whatever you’ve got, man. I assure you.”

Steve laughed and started stretching. Lucas did the same and once they were fully stretched, they started off. Steve began slow and ramped up, faster and faster until they had hit a full on sprint.

They arrived back at the house, panting and sweating up a storm.

“Damn,” Lucas huffed, hands on his knees and head hung between his shoulders. “You weren’t kidding about that run. Shit.”

Steve laughed. “I haven’t had someone keep up with me before.”

Lucas stood up and put his hands on his back. “I used to play basketball in high school and college. Until I hurt my knee pretty bad.”

“Made it so you were unable to play?” Steve asked, leading them into the house for water and the AC.

“Actually,” Lucas said, taking the water bottle from Steve, “I fully recovered, but it was the team that had moved on. That’s when I realized it would be the same if I got in the NBA. I’d be traded around like a bad birthday present instead being treated like a person and went fuck that shit.”

Steve nodded and hopped up on the counter. “I used to play sports before I got into the whole singing thing. Originally my dad had me playing three sports to triple my chances of making money off of me. And then realized that he could make more with me as a pop star.”

He opened his bottle of water and took a long drink.

Lucas chugged his all in one gulp before tossing it in the trash. “What sports did you play?”

“Basketball,” Steve said, cocking his head to the side and held out his hand, point to Lucas, “like you. Let’s see...baseball and swimming. Did a couple others like boxing and wrestling in PE, but nothing worth writing home about. But yeah. I made captain of the basketball team and co-captain of the swim. I enjoyed them well enough. But singing, man? That’s it for me. I love it.”

“But you kept it with the sports after you made it big?” Lucas asked.

“Sure,” Steve murmured. “Most hotels have swimming pools and you can always find a place with a couple of hoops for a game or two.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Three fourths of The Kings played on the basketball team in high school, only Jonathan didn’t.”

“My sister was a big fan of The Kings when she was in high school,” Lucas said, leaning against the counter next to Steve and crossing her arms. “Billy was her favorite until she found out he was racist asshole.”

Steve grimaced. “Yeah, that was a PR nightmare, let me tell you.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine,” Lucas agreed. “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m meeting with a top contract lawyer to get my label off my ass,” Steve said, throwing his bottle in the trash can and making it. Lucas raised an impressed eyebrow. “My label is pissed that once this album is done and I go on tour, that’s it. I’m done with them.”

“This the same label that hired security to spy on you?” Lucas asked.

“That’s them,” Steve groused. “My manager made sure the terms were air tight in our favor but they’re trying to wiggle out of it.”

“Bastards.”

Steve shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“What’s the lawyer’s name?” Lucas asked with a tilt of his head.

Steve frowned. “Actually, I don’t recall.” He got up and went to the cork board next to fridge and began scanning for the business card. “Ah ha!” He plucked the card off the board and walked back to Lucas and handed him the card.

“Gillibrand, Farnsworth, and Hayward, Associates at Law,” Steve said. “I’m meeting with Erica Hayward.”

“Yeah...” Lucas said, drawing out the word. “I hope you’re looking for a scorched earth approach to this record label.”

Steve shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed. Why? Do you know them or something?”

Lucas winced. “I’d better. Erica Hayward is my little sister.”

*

Steve was relieved when Eddie called from the airport.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve said softly. “Everyone make it out all right?”

“Everything is fine beautiful,” Eddie said. “Chrissy is a certified genius. We actually have two tour buses, one that we keep stored in Evansville in case this one breaks down. So she had the bus haul ass down to Austin and we played a little bit of shell game with Creel’s goons.”

Steve laughed. “That’s fantastic! I was so worried about it, I was about to recommend my security company to you.”

“I thought you were notorious for blowing off your security detail,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve walked out to the swimming pool and sat down on one of the loungers, “Used to. Back when they were spies for my parents and the record label. Got my own company now. They’ve been pretty good so far. Robin wanted someone to watch my back as I drove to LA.”

“And they passed muster, then?” Eddie asked with a fond smile.

“Yeah,” Steve said, laying back on the lounger. “They’re from Indiana, too and not Caifornia but they do have locations all around the country, LA included, of course.”

“Of course,” Eddie said. “But you don’t have to worry on that front, Stevie. My roadies double as security. Trust me when I say no one messes with us when they’re nearby.”

“Okay, Eds,” Steve said. “I hate how Creel tried to come after you guys. You especially.”

“I’ll just sic Mike on him,” Eddie said with laugh. “That bastard is so surly that I’ve seen him stare down a biker gang and win.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. “He built like a tank or something?”

Eddie laughed again. “No, baby. Mike Wheeler is most definitely not built like a tank.”

Steve sat up in a flash and scrambled to get to his photos on his phone. “Is this him?”

“Why do you have a picture of my roadie on your phone?” Eddie asked, genuinely confused.

“You remember Nancy?” Steve asked. “The ex currently dating my former bandmate Jonanthan Byers.”

“Sure,” Eddie said. “From the Indie Dolls, right?”

Steve hummed in agreement.

“Rumor was,” Eddie continued, “that she didn’t even wait for the bed to get cold before she shacked up with Byers.”

Steve scoffed. “Bitch didn’t even wait for that. She full on cheated on me with Jonathan.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Mike Wheeler is Nancy Wheeler’s little brother.”

“Fuck.” It was quiet on the line for a moment. “Really?”

“Small world,” Steve said. “He doesn’t like me much, but if he’s your guard dog, I’ll sleep soundly knowing he’s got your back.”

“And I’m glad you’ve got someone watching your back too, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.

Steve looked at his watch and sighed. “I’ve got let you go. I’ve got to get ready for my appointment. Fly safe.”

“Will do, sweet thing,” Eddie said and hung up.

Steve stared at his phone for a moment before he got up and went back in the house.

*

Max was waiting by a black sedan when Steve walked out of his house an hour later. He paused briefly at the bottom step and blinked at the sight. He then shrugged and half jogged to the car.

“Steve,” Max greeted. “We’ll be picking Robin Buckley up and then to your appointment. Lucas gave me the run down of the office and I know where all the exits are.”

Steve nodded and got into the backseat of the car. Max hopped into in the passenger seat. Steve could barely make out the driver.

They got to Robin’s house and she just bounded into the car without missing a beat. She slid into the middle so she could sit next to Steve.

“Now,” Max began once they were both settled, “Steve is my main priority, however I will do whatever it takes to keep you both safe.”

“Roger that!” Robin said with a jaunty salute.

They pulled up in front of a large office building with the names Gillibrand, Farnsworth, and Hayward in neat black letters on the bronze plaque next to the main doors.

Max followed close behind as Robin and Steve walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Steve Harrington to see Erica Hayward at 2pm?” Steve said smoothly.

The receptionist typed something on her screen and nodded. “Fifth floor, suite five hundred. Speak to her PA and he’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” Steve said and tapped the front desk twice.

They walked to the elevator.

Everything about the place screamed opulence and elegance. They exited the elevator and this floor was even more elegant than the ground floor. It was all white marble and brass fittings.

Steve squirmed a little. It reminded him a little much of the home he grew up in. Fancy and faceless.

Robin took his hand and gently pulled him down the hallway to suite 500. She opened the glass door and led the way to the PA’s desk. The office was black marble and mahogany. Steve started tapping his finger against the side of his thigh nervously.

“Two o’clock appointment,” Robin said, “for Steve Harrington.”

The PA nodded. “She’ll be with you in a moment. Her last appointment ran late.”

Steve sat down, but both Robin and Max stood.

“I should have scoped out the place first,” Robin whispered mournfully. “I forgot lawyers like to be intimidating.”

Steve squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Robs.”

Max cocked her head thoughtfully. “Janice mentioned something about you not being comfortable around opulence and extravagance. I’ve seen her history write-up of you, it’s a little thin on why.”

Robin and Steve shared a glance.

“That’s a story you guys might get if you continue to be awesome,” Robin said. “But it’s way too early for that shit.”

Max frowned. “It really is better to tell your security about all your pitfalls and fears because if you’re afraid of spiders and freak out, our reaction might be a tad elevated for the scenario if you get me.”

Steve made a finger gun and mimicked the sound of gun going off.

“Right in one, pretty boy.”

Robin chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“It’s okay, Robs,” Steve said. “She’s right they need to know.”

Robin threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, I’ll send the file over to Janice.”

Max’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “A file?!”

Steve nodded.  

“Erica’s ready for you,” the PA interrupted.

Steve got up and followed Robin into the office, Max following close behind.

They got into the office and there was the most gorgeous black woman sitting behind a desk that matched the outer office.

She stood up to shake Robin and Steve’s hand before squealing and hugging Max.

“Max!” Erica said. “When is that loggerheaded brother of mine going to put a ring on that finger?”

Max laughed, hugging her back. “The last time he brought it up, I threatened to take out both of his knee caps.”

Erica stepped back and looked at Max appreciatively. “Fair. Speaking of Lucas, why isn’t he here instead of you?”

Max winced. “He was going to.” Erica raised a skeptical eyebrow. “No, really he was. But one of our clients had a break in last night so he was taking care of that until the early hours of the morning. Then he ran with Steve this morning, followed by the debriefing with Janice after about the break in. He barely got to bed an hour before this appointment.”

Steve raised an appreciative eyebrow. 

Erica grimaced. “Ouch. Okay, he’s forgiven this time.” She turned to Steve and Robin. “Please sit. Tell me more about your case.”

Steve sat down and fiddled with the hem of his button down shirt. “This place is very intimidating.”

Erica smiled like a shark. “It’s meant to be.”

Steve shrugged. “If you hadn’t been so highly recommended,” he waved at Max, “and the sister of one of my security detail, I wouldn’t have even walked in. I would have found myself a different lawyer.”

“And you probably would have lost your case,” Erica said returning his shrug.

“Maybe,” Steve said. “But if I don’t feel comfortable with you as a lawyer, how can I trust you to handle my case the way I want it handled?”

Erica frowned appreciatively and nodded. “That’s fair, I suppose. But you have to understand, every single one of the partners at this firm is a black woman that had to claw her way to the top of the food chain. Dismissed, discredited, and disrespected,” she explained, moving to sit down at her desk.

“Patrica Farnsworth is the top attorney in trademarks and copyright law in LA, but because she’s a black woman, she was passed over time and time again for mediocre white men. Ophelia Gillibrand is the top lawyer in town for fair use and transformative works. She even volunteers part of her time to archives for fan fiction. But just like Patrica, overlooked and under paid.”

She sighed. “We are only respected because of how this place looks and is run. But I don’t doubt we’ve lost good clients because of it, too. It’s double-edged sword, but one we have to carry.”

Steve nodded. “You’ve convinced me,” he said with a cheeky smile. “So let me fill you in.”

As Max watched she suddenly knew why they needed to send over a file about Steve’s hangups. Because holy fuck was that some pretty heavy shit he was telling Erica.

Once they were done, Erica rubbed her hands together. “I love cases like these. They’re usually very quick and very brutal. Plus, I think with a couple of days of digging I can get the whole fucking contract thrown out and you can start writing whatever the fuck you want by the end of the week.”

Robin and Steve shared a surprised glance.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked.

“They blackmailed Steve into the contract,” Erica sneered, “holding his past over his head. That’s illegal. And if I’m right, and I usually am, I can get criminal charges brought up against your parents and the label.”

Steve blinked. “Lucas said you would take a scorched earth approach.”

Erica cocked her head smugly. “It’s what I do.”

“Then have at it,” Robin said gleefully. “Carte blanche, money is no object. Have at thee.”

Steve nodded. “Agreed. Take these assholes to school.”

“With pleasure.”

***

Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

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[sarnai4]

Amusement Parks

I am a major fan of amusement parks (Cedar Point specifically) and started wondering what it would be like if the RTTE crew went on a group trip there. So, here's a set of headcanons for how this would do.

Gotta talk about the rollercoasters. Fishlegs is probably not getting on most of them, but I bet Dagur convinces him to try out one loop coaster and the blond is surprised by how much fun it is (it'll be like their time hanging out with their Gronckles). Hiccup is on them, but he's also looking at the engineering aspect and considering how he could build a better one. Snotlout is screaming his lungs out, but he's loving every second of it too. At some point, either the twins and/or Dagur are teasing him about probably not being tall enough to get on some of the rides. (If they're ever right, he will never near the end of it) Mala is too proper to scream on rollercoasters, so she's just smiling. Dagur's laughing the whole time. Ruff and Tuff keep trying to make the other one scream by also fighting on the rides. Astrid loves the adrenaline and Throk would let out a cheer, but he's not sure if that's proper or not. After a few times, he might. Heather and Minden ride coasters like normal people. Lastly, Stoick and Gobber just plain aren't fitting. Sorry guys.

For the carnival games, There's a competition going on. You have Dagur, Astrid, Snotlout, and Throk trying to see who can get the most toys for their S.O.'s (even though Ruffnut is definitely still not Throk's girlfriend). Hiccup really doesn't care about getting a toy, but he knows there's no point in trying to have Astrid not be competitive. Minden also doesn't want a toy, but she likes seeing how excited Snotlout is to get her some. Ruffnut and Mala are sorta competing too and betting on who's going to win because 1. the twin still wants toys and 2. Mala can't let her trash talking go without any of it being dished back out to her. She's just classy with how she does it. Gobber's playing too because he wants to show the youngins how the pros do it. The last time Stoick played, he broke the whack-a-mole and had to pay for repairs, so he's picking who to root for.

Fishlegs is mostly enjoying all the foods and has had 3rd breakfast, 5th lunch, and nth dinner by the time the park closes for the night. The twins normally join him to get filled up on garlic parmesan fries...then feel really sick on the rides. I can see Stoick enjoying the turkey legs in particular.

Cedar Point also has an arcade area because it doesn't know how to be anything other than amazing. Fishlegs is probably here more than with the rides. The others trickle in after they've ridden a lot of the coasters. The twins are on air hockey and intentionally aiming the puck at each other's fingers. This is also why none of the others will play against them. Everyone takes turns on the games, but the competitive side has to return, so this is also a competition. Snotlout actively spends his time sabotaging Dagur on all of the games (he will even block the basketball on those hoop games). In his defense, this is payback. You'll see why in a few moments.

For the other rides, Fishlegs and Heather are on the Ferris wheel. Snotlout and Minden are too, but Dagur has found these little bean bags to test out his aim by seeing if he can still bop Snotlout with them. The mood is very killed with Minden, but she also thinks it's funny. And now you know why Snotlout is cheating later on. Astrid is convinced the non rollercoaster rides don't count, but Hiccup gets on some. The big guys still can't ride unfortunately.

When it comes to the shows, they're all enjoying them and the twins try to have the audience start the wave or some type of chant. (At least one of their attempts works). Heather especially likes the live music. She might even be one of the singers who's going to perform later. For the characters that employees are dressed up as, the twins are amazed. This might lead to Throk seeing if they have a position open for him since it would make Ruffnut happy. Hopefully it won't happen because Dagur keeps trying to have the poor individuals break character by tormenting them. Mala and Hiccup get him to stop eventually, but he's still making faces at the workers behind their backs.

Last but not least, the waterpark. The thrill seekers of the group are on the slides and the twins are also having fun at the kiddie section with the dragon head. Admittedly, the reptile caught Hiccup's eye too. After enjoying the slides, Heather joins Fishlegs in the calmer water with the inner tubes. Stoick acts like he thinks the slides are silly, but Gobber gets him to try them since he seems to be having such a great time. If anyone looks at Mala or Minden for too long, they're getting hit or glared at, respectively, by their boys (Throk included for Mala. Only her hubby can make googly eyes at her).

After all this, I think they'd consider their vacation a very nice one

[briamichellewrites]

38

Brad was home with Brian during a break from filming. Brian had left the house after learning that they were going to have a discussion. He did not want to be involved if they were going to start fighting. Mike admitted that he got drunk and kissed Dave. What did that mean? Did they sleep together? No, because they were drunk. He did spend the night but he slept in a different bed. Then they both cheated. Yeah, they did.

They both agreed not to get married. When Brian got home, he was told what they decided. He was relieved! What did he want to say? They promised to listen to him without judgment. For the past year, he had been angry with them and they wanted to know why. Because they were being childish! He was so tired of being the parent and he was tired of false apologies.

He was going to give them an ultimatum that either they stopped fighting or he would be done with them forever. Well, not forever but until they got their shit together. He didn’t want them to get married because they were too immature. They thought about that. He was right. What could they do to help him? Be the fathers he needed without putting him in the middle. They could do that. Good. Did he have fun in New York? Yes, he did.

Secretly, he and Matt had kissed when nobody was looking. They had talked about dating, though he was worried about telling his father. Even though Brian didn’t think it would be a big deal, he respected his need to wait until he was ready.

One Saturday afternoon, he and Mark Wahlberg got into a basketball game at the hotel. That was a lot of fun. They went back and forth throwing the ball in the hoop and trash-talking each other. They were boys being boys. Brian was an inch taller, so he was using that to his advantage. Brad came over to the sidelines after noticing them and asked what they were doing.

“Marky Mark is being a sore loser.”

“Come on. You cheated.”

“This isn’t Boston.”

Brad laughed. He had a point. Brian was not very good at basketball. It didn’t matter because he was having fun. Mark was better. After a while, they were both tired so they called it quits. Brian had gotten rid of his excess energy and was hungry. He used the bottom of his tank top to wipe the sweat from his face. While on set, he had fun talking with the cast. Jack Nicholson surprised him by being a nice guy.

His character was terrifying! He had to admit he was scared of him. That just meant he played the part extremely well. Brad could tell he was enjoying himself. He had a genuine smile on his face. With everything going on at home, it was wonderful to see. He was going to stay in LA while he went to Boston to continue filming because he needed to continue working on his album with Mike and Brad. Mike was excited about having him stay with him.

Just like a child going from one parent to the other. They would give him the choice of who he wanted to live with or if he wanted to live by himself. He was a legal adult and could live by himself. They would help him pay for an apartment or even a starter home. When they brought that idea up to him, he did think the house was a little too small for them.

Did he want to move out? Yeah, he did. Okay. He wanted to be like every other teenager his age. That meant having his own place. They understood that completely. As long as he visited them. Oh, yeah. Did he want a house with a basketball hoop? Hell no. Brad laughed. Who won that game? He thought that Mark did, though they weren’t keeping score. Brad laughed before telling Mike about their basketball game. He laughed.

“I should see if I have any New Kids On The Block cds you can give to him as a joke.”

“Why would he want that?”

“His brother, Donnie was in the New Kids.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t know if they were as big as the Backstreet Boys, though.”

Mike was more interested in N Sync than the Backstreet Boys. He jokingly called him a traitor. They laughed. After hanging out for a while, he went back upstairs to his room. He and Matt were texting back and forth about the situation at home and he wanted to update him. They both thought the talk had gone a lot better than expected!

They're not getting married. I think Mike is going to move out. They are going to help me find a house, so I can have my own place. Thanks for listening to me. – Brian

You’re welcome. I will be here for you. Let me know if you’re coming to Boston. – Matt

He replied he wasn’t because he was going to be spending time with his stepfather working on his album. But he would see him when he was back in LA. Maybe he would have a new house to show him! He would be excited to see it! They both signed off with I love you. Mike came up and knocked on the door. He sat on his bed as he walked in. What he wanted to tell him was how proud he was of him. Both he and his father thought so.

He told them exactly what they needed to hear. Even though they had broken up, he wasn’t going to move out. How was that going to work? They would be roommates, who lived together but dated other people. They would also help him pay for a house. He sighed and thanked him.

For the past few years, he had been a second father to him and he never showed appreciation for that. He was more than welcome. After standing up, they hugged. No matter what, he would always be welcome to hang out with the band. What was he going to do? Outside of working on the album, he didn’t know though Matt adopted him as his little brother. That meant hanging out with him. As long as he let them know where he was. He would do that. What about Chipotle? That was a given. He laughed. Of course.

When they were done talking, he followed him downstairs because he was needing a cigarette. He thought about Matt and losing his virginity to him. That was something his father and Mike would never find out about. He thought about his lips when he kissed him for the first time and how his body felt. Matt was the guy he had been in love with his entire childhood. He was so adorable and attractive.

The following day, Mike and Dave met up at his place. He had told the band he and Brad broke up. Was he okay? Yeah, he was going to be okay. They were going to continue living together but as roommates. Brian knew about it. They let him get out of his anger and frustration.

It helped a lot! He was going to be spending time with him while Brad went to Boston to continue filming. They both thought it would be good for him to have time with them individually. At Dave’s, they kissed while touching each other. They didn’t have to worry about cheating anymore and could be open. After going up to his room, he closed the door behind them.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

[to-star-lake]

in the early days when you joined bonten as their new advisor, you spent a lot of time with koko; drawing up business plans, managing the books, overseeing construction on new clubs and buildings.

koko had the nicest office of all of the bonten leaders. it was on the top floor of a highrise in the middle of the shibuya business district. complete with high-end leather and mahogany furniture, and a gorgeous city view.

you'd spent time with each of the bonten executives when you joined and koko was probably your favorite to work with. you found takeomi too serious, kakucho boorish, mochi too macho, the haitani's were exhausting, and sanzu..well..

koko was like you; blunt and efficient with work, a little impatient, maybe a little condescending. you enjoyed your daily work with him in his office. it was always quiet, productive, and his assistants always served the best sencha.

except today.

today when you walked in through the mahogany double doors that led to his office, you were almost decked in the face by a toy rubber basketball.

"he shoots! he scores? no! he misses!" you heard a voice yell, followed by a maniacal cackling.

what...the hell is this? the floor of koko's office, which was normally clean, surgically clean, was littered with teddy bears, squeak toys, board games with their pieces strewn about haphazardly, a jump rope, a putting green, and a trash bin overflowing with crumpled candy wrappers.

the rubber basketball that almost hit your head rolled towards the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on one end of the room and you saw a kiddie basketball hoop attached to one of the shelves. and below that, sanzu, flopped on his stomach on the floor, a different flavored ring pop on each of his fingers.

"koko..i'm really bad at basketball," he grumbled, picking himself up and walked over to koko's desk, slamming his hands down on the surface, the sudden gust of wind almost blowing the stack of papers in front of koko away.

"oh no, well, why don't you go try the putt putt?" koko sighed, not even looking up from his work, waving his hand in the air like he was shooing away a fly. "ah, y/n! finally, someone sane. please, get over here, i need you to look at something," koko waved you over when he noticed you standing in the doorway.

you made your way across the minefield of toys on the floor and greeted sanzu as he walked past you. "good morning," you smiled cordially.

he sauntered past you, looking down at you through bloodshot, half-shut eyes, his usual sinister smile plastered wide across his face. he'd opened his mouth to say, "good morning, little prin-" but then stepped on a pile of toy soldiers and tripped, tumbling to the floor, his long limbs getting all tangled up in themselves.

"uh... hey, koko?" you took a seat in the armchair beside the desk, setting your laptop down on the tabletop. "what's going on here? where's mikey?"

koko let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "sometimes mikey goes off on his own, and when he does, the rest of us have to take turns...babysitting," he nodded at the gangly man with bubblegum colored hair with a plastic toy putter in his hands. "i pulled the short straw today," he sighed, pushing the large binder of documents he was looking at over to you.

"koko!!"

"jesus, what now?" koko looked up, so annoyed you could almost see the steam coming out his ears.

"there's no balls," sanzu pointed at the putting green on the floor.

"well, who decided to ambush people by pelting them with the balls outside the bathroom last time?"

sanzu stared back at koko blankly.

"ugh, nevermind. could you play with something else? y/n and i have work to do." koko scooted his seat closer to you, and began circling a few line items on the page in front of you. "got this today from the guys over at the club in akasaka. these totals look off to you?"

you glanced over the document, and flipped back a few pages and reviewed the itemized lists also included in the binder. "damn," you said, looking up at koko. "these assholes are skimming."

koko opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sudden loud popping noise. both of you turned to see sanzu on the floor, pulling the heads off of a pile of barbie and ken dolls.

koko raised his hands to his temples, the frown lines between his eyebrows deepening by the second. "jesus christ, this psychotic clown, if he wasn't the number 2 I swear to god-” he muttered under his breath.

"hey, sanzu?" you called out and sanzu's head jerked up to look at you, his eyes suddenly bright and attentive, like a child amongst the sea of toys on the floor.

"yes, princess?" he called back.

"could you go on a coffee run for us?"

sanzu tilted his head a little, confused. "a coffee...run?"

"yeah...you know, to buy coffee?"

he blinked, still confused.

"to buy...starbucks?"

"ah! you want me to buy you starbucks," he suddenly shot up.

"yes! yes, please, for me and koko, that would be great," you smiled, thinking you were finally getting somewhere with him.

he walked over to the desk. "anything for you, princess. and you can call me haru," he hummed, taking a bright pink ring pop off his finger and sliding it onto your ring finger, and a blue one onto koko's ring finger. "be back in a flash."

he turned to walk out of the office, whistling and not bothering to avoid the toys scattered on the floor, simply stepping on them as he went.

the doors closed behind him and you turned to koko, "now we can get some work done."

"let's hope he takes his time," koko rolled his eyes, sliding the ring pop off his finger, holding onto only the plastic part as gingerly as possible, a disgusted look on his face because he could tell sanzu had definitely licked the candy already.

"is it always like this when mikey's away?"

"sanzu? yeah, pretty much. but mikey tolerates him cus he's been with him longer than any of us, he's his loyal mad dog," koko sighed. "but that bastard's insane. apparently back in the day he got moved back and forth between all of mikey's captains cus nobody could handle him."

"wow. yeah, i guess i can see that," you glanced over at all the toys scattered on the floor. "seems pretty tough for you too."

"oh, i've actually done the best with him," koko scoffed. "last time, he was the haitani brothers' responsibility, they decided to take him to a hostess club. thought it'd be a good distraction for him. crazy maniac decided to pay for all the women there."

"all of them? that's..that's a lot-"

"no, that's not the crazy part. he paid for all the women, and then made them line up against the wall with liquor bottles on top of their heads and he used them for target practice." koko ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "anyway, who knows when he's gonna be back so we should try to get as much done as possible while he's away."

you nodded. the two of you worked dilligently, reviewing the rest of the books collected from bonten's other clubs and businesses in town, making one stack for ones that pass, and one that required additional scrutiny.

after a while, you stretched your arms up over your head, noticing the sun hung high in the sky and glanced at the clock on the wall. it read 12:15.

"i wonder where he is," you said, realizing it'd been almost two and a half hours since he left.

"who knows what that lunatic gets up to," koko sighed, turning the page of the binder he was leafing through.

"i actually could've used some coffee though," you yawned.

"i can have my girls make some sencha-"

just then the doors to his office burst open, and sanzu staggered in, eyes blood red, a blue gift bag in one hand, the other dragging a giant 10-foot teddy bear behind him.

"and suddenly my headache's back," koko muttered and sanzu approached the two of you at the desk.

sanzu dragged the huge teddy bear over and plopped it beside you. "i got this for you, princess."

"hah..um...where'd you get this..giant thing?" you didn't even know where to begin.

"there's a carnival downtown. i got it playing a shooting game," he grinned from ear to ear. koko groaned, knowing sanzu, by 'shooting game' he probably meant he threatened to shoot the person manning the booth if he didn't give him the bear.

"hah..i see, thank you. but why is it missing its eyes?" you asked, looking at the bear's face and noticing the eyeballs had been ripped out, only some tattered threads remained in the sockets.

"they were ugly," sanzu shrugged. "koko, i got you something too," he dropped the gift bag down in front of koko.

"thanks.." koko reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny cross-stitched sweater which could've only been made for an infant. "uh...dude, what is this?"

"it's a sweater for your chihuahua," sanzu explained, yawning and plopping down onto a chair by the desk.

"i don't have a chihuahua?"

"i could've sworn you did," sanzu tilted his head, as though in deep thought. "oh, i guess it's just you that's always yapping. it's amazing y/n puts up with this every day," he laughed, but his tone was filled with hostility.

you saw koko's body tense in your periphery and you quickly spoke up to diffuse the sudden tension. "haru, did you get coffee?"

"coffee? oh! the starbucks. yes, i did."

you stared back at him. "that's great, uh...so where is it?"

"on the corner of harajuku square, by yoyogi station," he smiled.

"what?"

"oh my god," koko groaned, raising his palms to his eyes and rubbing them in circles.

you looked back and forth between koko and sanzu.

koko took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, turning to look at you. "he bought the starbucks."

[junhuiste]

break the code (ex-wip)

pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader

wc: 1900

tags/warning: basketball!soonyoung, college au, slightly suggestive language, cursing

a/n: this was something i started way back in 2017 when i was 15 lol and i tried going back to it and finishing but i just can’t seem to continue it!! but i don’t want it to just sit in my drafts so i’m just going to post the unfinished wip! i might do this with a lot of wips i’ve had collecting dust over the years (and they’re like 99% svt lol); if i ever do find some stroke of inspo to finish it i might but for now enjoy the 1900 words i wrote when i was a sophomore

“But babe, you’ll sit on my side, right?” Soonyoung continued to pester you with countless little questions to which he knew the exact answers to.

You pursed your lips at your boyfriend; mild sorrow and guilt clouded your eyes. In return he pout your favorite pair of plush pillows to kiss, with dull bleakness and dismals fogging his irises. It was hard, really, to resist the pull of a magnet, who was trying every trick in the book to coerce you to sit on his school’s side of the bleachers for the upcoming basketball game on Friday.

Had it been that both of you were just your run-of-the-mill university couple, tachycardia would’ve caused you to blurt out “yes” instantaneously just by being gazed upon by Soonyoung, but alas, the big guy upstairs made it to be so that you technically couldn’t through the rulebook of the sibling code.

A flushed palm extended to your denim-covered thighs, with the utmost desire lacing his fingers.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” His digits creeped towards your inner thigh, getting closer to the actual cherry he wanted on top.

“Soonyoung, no matter how well you do me, I’m still obligated to sit on my side of the bleachers.”

None of Soonyoung’s coercions could persuade you to decide about where to sit. You really would’ve preferred to sit on his side, but with your current situation, none of that was possible. It was a precarious oscillation between blood and water, and neither did you want to drown in with regret for embracing one over another.

“Fine. If you can’t cheer me on–which is a pitiful shame–let me take you out to eat after the game. And we can make out in my car or something so he won’t have to know.” Soonyoung’s gaze no longer held flashes of fervor, but rather a decadent gleam of sheer admiration.

“It’s a done deal, but you better promise me to dunk on him, or be prepared to get dunked on by him. As of right now, however, you owe me some kisses for making me wobble continuously back and forth between your side and his before I go,” you taunted, “come here you little rascal.”

Soonyoung gleamed at you piercingly, yielding you to lean forward against him as a shock of joy sparked up your back. His hand feathered along the back of your thigh, brushing it so longingly, with a tinge of impertinence here and there. You could feel the urgency radiating from him as he struggled to press you even closer to him, as there were no more gaps to be filled. He grasped your chin gingerly, before connecting his lips with yours, wanting to revel in dire coalescence he’d been awaiting upon your arrival.

Soonyoung is the warm bath you dip yourself into after constant exhaustion, the meager yet compelling and needed breeze as the sun beats down you, the red mark that’s actually relieving and boasts “A+” on a hard worked assignment, the last basket shot as the clock dashes away with the snickering seconds, and he is what has you torn on where your loyalty stands, but you can’t thank him enough for that strife.

You pulled away first because getting you two to separate would be a long ass haul, and maybe it was also getting late, just maybe. Your eyes glimpsed at the badgering hands that indicated 11:35 PM, and nothing but a sullen sigh managed to escape your lips.

It wasn’t fair, how time sashayed away, but there were no seconds left to spare to sulk about it, so you caressed the tranquility Soonyoung’s face possessed and left a lingering peck upon it. Knowing him, you’d expected him to grip your waist and pull you down with him into the waters of his joyous yet yearning ways but the coal haired boy enveloped you in an enticing embrace and with his lips hovering slightly above your ear, whispered, “Tell him to get ready.”

“I swear to God, I hate basketball,” your brother exhaled out in utter annoyance, to which you furrowed your brows at.

You always shifted in your seat restlessly, your heart palpitating at an ungodly speed of McQueen, eyes sought frantically to avoid meeting your brother’s, upon the dreaded word of “basketball” ringing in your ears. It wasn’t that you abhorred it, no, not at all; you absolutely appreciated the art of dunking and the pleasing note of swish through the hoop, but just not the people you knew personally who partook in it.

There’s always a Montague and Capulet narrative happening somewhere in the universe, always, and it just so happened that you were struck with the curse by some godforsaken entity of destiny of landing a role in your life as the fresh faced, ever so naive, youngest member of the Capulets–Juliet. And you dreaded the direction your supposed fairytale was headed the first time your boyfriend asked you to watch his basketball game, which oddly enough, was the same one your brother requested you to “bring all your hot friends” to.

As strange as it sounded, it wasn’t your brother’s undeniable libido for your friends that irked you and made you hesitate going to a basketball game, to which you’ve never thought twice about before, but it was the statement of, “God I am going to crush number 10’s ass.”

Number 10. Number fucking 10. Of course, it had to be the player that sweat through blue polyester and nylon, donning number 10 in white on the front and back. It could have been player number 13 or 17, for God’s sake it could have even been a negative number sported on the jersey, yet it all had to align in the cosmos to be player number 10.

You didn’t certainly deem ESP to be something legitimate, but on that day you swore to god your mind fucked you royally in the ass and placed you in Soonyoung’s dorm room the night before. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, nothing but the sight of a teenage boy’s niche, because a lot of basketball players had to have chosen the number 10 for their jersey, right?

The environment malfunctioned instantaneously with the repetition of “I am going to crush number 10’s ass” circling about a short circuit in your mind. From that moment onward, the sight of the jersey was unquestionably more radiant that it could have ever been, with the blinding, white number ten atop Soonyoung’s chair cackling obstreperously at your oh shit moment. Tuning in to your brother slander your university’s rival, Soonyoung’s school, was always such a joy (not) to participate in.

Every “basketball” here and there snagged you by the ear and dragged you to hell and back with it, provoking the cracks of your palm to drench in sweat and legs to quiver more than you had felt around Soonyoung before dating him.

“Yeah I mean it’s not like you’ve worked your entire ass off the past 4 years or so to even set foot on the college court you've been dreaming of since you were 13!” Diverting your brother’s mental debate on his love of the sport, it was a necessity to pluck something else from thin air to talk about, and not your school’s rival when they had games against each other, which was seemingly a bloodbath in their perspective.

Trying to escape your brother’s trash talk of Soonyoung’s team was walking through an eternal, pitch black, underground tunnel, no goddamn escape.

“They only got us last time because of number 10’s foolery. Jesus Christ, the kid better slow down or he’s wasting stamina. Can’t believe he holds the title of captain, like me. I motherfucking swear to God if I have to listen to his loud ass winning chant–” yadah yadah, number 10 this, number 10 that.

You would have dozed off to your brother’s lovely lullaby of scorn towards your boyfriend had it not been for a text…from your boyfriend.

[spoonyoung]

hii hiiiii heyyyy hello bby Hhhii babe i miss youuuuu hi!

[y/n]

i can tell u’re tired :( don’t be

[spoonyoung]

he's going to crush me dang flabbit

y/n

so ur nervous ??? bby it’s just a game istg,,both of you treat it like warfare

[incoming call: spoonyoung]

Shit, what the hell? This bitch, right now? In this economy, at this time?

Inside your chest was a drumline pounding, giving it their all, threatening to burst out and announce to your brother that “Hey, your rival is dating your sister! They’re probably going to fuck later but you don’t know about any of it!”

You would plummet into poignancy if you didn’t pick up his call, because there was no chance you could see him everyday, so honestly fuck that you guys attended different schools, and resorting to calling each other did bring both of you to ease, but not at this goddamn, forsaken time, with one you love phoning you with 17,000 vibrations per second, and the other idiot you were practically forced to love, perched next to you, indignantly gripping the wheel with such force you couldn’t decide which one generated more turbulence within you.

Tensely clutching what was now a scorching piece of metal, you held it up conscientiously to your ear, and forced yourself to breathe out calmly and collectively. Every single mention, tidbit and strand, bob and fragment of Soonyoung that was mentioned around you when you were with your brother grabbed your trachea in its firm hold and forced the wind out of you.

“Hey, Hoshi,” you managed to choke out in a level headed manner.

Hoshi. That was what you and Soonyoung agreed to nickname him if you ever picked up a call from him around your brother or his teammates, but god forbid you were actually allowed to have a life of any sort!

“Babe,” Soonyoung mewled out from the other line, “I actually can’t do this. Don’t tell him, but your brother is really good...of course he is.”

Frowning because of Soonyoung’s lack of usual mirth and brimming confidence, you sighed, “If you let it get to you, then your thoughts affect your actions, and you don’t want that to happen right? You’ll be fine...and I’m not just saying this to say something, but you’re really good too, and you can’t let one person bring your entire mood down...even if...you know…”

“Will you at least come with me to my dorm after the game?”

“Oh you know I’ll be doing more than that,” giggling into your phone, trying to sound as enticing as possible, completely engrossed in this very conversation, as it was all the time talking with Soonyoung.

Both of you had a habit of drastically turning your talks from upside downs to those of obvious elation. They were conversations sometimes needed to be kept in the comforting privacy, selfishly not wanting to let anyone else in on the baby i missed you’s and the do you need anything from the boba shop’s and literally you don’t have the right to look this good’s.

Startled by the grunting and hacking oh so wonderfully expired by the total jackass to your left, you contended to the third degree, with the patience that was never really there starting to thin out, “Do you need something?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Soonyoung to call coincidentally at the times you were with—more like right next to—his rival, probably because his

[spooky-z]

Dodgeball

Maribat by @ozmav

This is part of my PACK AU. I decided that I would post one shots about this au and then, when I have more time, I will do a whole fanfic.

You can find parts of this AU here, here, here and here.

This is 1.6K!

They were at lunch. No one wanted to go to the bakery that day for lunch, as Sabine and Tom were busy with a huge order from André Bourgeois for a political event at the hotel.

So, they had arranged to bring food/sweets to lunch together in a forgotten room at school.

Marinette had brought a strawberry charlotte russe (the whole cake); Adrien had made chocolate chip cookies; Kagami arrived with various sweets and drinks that had been sent to her from Japan; Luka came with calissons; Damian set a box of mahmoul on the table; Chloe had baked a salted caramel pie; Max had brought croissants and Kim macarons.

The Kwamis were too happy to see the variety. (Plagg grumbled a little for not having Camembert, but Tikki managed to control him.)

It was a feast. Both for the food and for each other's presence. All eight were resting after eating everything.

Adrien lying on Luka and Chloe's legs; Chloe resting her head on the musician's shoulder while her hands hugged Kagami sideways; Kagami had Kim sitting on the floor between her legs and with his back to her; Damian's legs stretched over Kim's, Marinette in his arms; Max was lying fully on the floor with only his head resting on Marinette's thigh while playing a game on the phone.

It was calm and quiet. Or rather calm and quiet minus Kim. He kept twitching.

Chloe snorts irritably.

"I'll kick you out of the room if you don't keep quiet."

“Let's do something!” He moans. "I ate too much sugar and now I can’t calm down."

Marinette makes a murmur understanding the boy. She also felt energy rush under her skin from too much sugar.

"I think we're all in the same boat." Damian mutters against Marinette's neck.

“How about we play dodgeball?” Adrien says suddenly and sits down to look at everyone. “It will drain the excess energy and we can have fun too.”

"Hmm, I don't know…" Max replies. "Do you have clothes in the locker room?"

"No." Kagami nods negatively. “But that would be no problem. We can get some from Mari-hime's house.”

"Okay." Luka smiles, breaking away from Chloe and standing up. "I think we'll play dodgeball."

xxxx

Francois Dupont was not prepared for a dodgeball match between eight heroes.

Not even Ms. Bustier's class.

All the students had gone to the second floor, the floor that gave access to the classrooms, to give more space for the fierce battle that was taking place in the school yard.

It was easy to recognize the shock, disbelief, and envy on the students' faces each time Marinette Dupain-Cheng deftly deflected a ball that would probably be fatal (and painful) if it hit her.

When Kagami Tsurugi violently kicked a ball coming toward her back to Max, who just used another ball to escape the attack and the school choked on watching it.

They saw Kim Le Chien jump into the basketball hoop to catch a wandering ball and then, hanging upside down, throw the ball with unbelievable force toward Adrien Agreste.

Adrien, who exhibited abnormal flexibility in deflecting the most absurd attacks. Like when he fell to the floor with his legs spread like a ballerina without showing any discomfort with it.

Damian Al-Ghul was vicious. He seemed to be playing to draw blood, no matter if they were his friends in a friendly game. Each time he made his move, the ball bounced off the floor or walls in a loud, dry noise. Students shuddered every time this happened.

The biggest surprise of the audience was to see Chloe Bourgeois and Luka Couffaine in the midst of the carnage. Chloe for being the untouchable princess of Mayor Bourgeois and Luka for being known as a calm and very sweet guy.

But they were very different at the time.

Luka had a manic smile on his face, sliding on the floor like a pro and retaliating with power. Chloe giving no opportunity for the other team to retaliate before falling down by killing with multiple balls in various directions. She was flushed and sweating, but didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Nino shudders when Adrien is the first to be hit. The sound of the ball hitting the model's chest makes the DJ panic and he almost runs to his friend but is prevented by the blonde's amused laugh.

“That was great, Ure!” He makes a move, a kip-up and soon stands, not looking hurt.

"I know." Damian shouts back. “You're getting slow, kitty. I think we're feeding you too much.”

Ms. Bustier's class reacts with surprise upon hearing the nickname.

"Kitty?" Alya mutters.

“Is he getting slow?” Nathaniel chokes.

"Dude, they're feral!" A boy of Ms. Mendeleev's class says excitedly.

“Adrien is so beautiful!” Adrien's fan club sighs.

They watch Marinette eliminate Chloe in a skilled and powerful counterattack. The sound of the ball against Bourgeois's thigh made it clear that Marinette was sparing no effort to eliminate her opponents.

Even if it was her friends.

Someone (a boy) whistles in appreciation.

"This girl is good."

"She's hot." Another (boy) person responds.

Before Lila could say anything disparaging about Marinette, Kagami Tsurugi's blazing gaze stopped in her direction. In their direction.

Kagami was still in the middle of the game when she stopped to look at them. And even being distracted by them, she was still fully capable of deflecting Kim's shots.

“Is it my imagination or is she looking at us?” Boy #1 asks.

“Do you think she could hear what I said?” Boy #2 asks back.

“Impossible, she doesn't—” Kagami raises an eyebrow and they squeak in surprise.

She smiles sarcastically and then turns her attention back to the game as if nothing has happened.

“Holy shit. I think I pissed on my pants.” Boy #2 whispers.

Not just him. Lila could still feel the coldness of that look digging into her skin.

That group was scary.

Alya, on the other hand, was feeling in the twilight zone.

That could not be real. Marinette, who could barely walk on the paved ground without injury, was there, running and jumping, displaying a skill Alya had never seen before.

At least not from Marinette.

"I didn't know Max was so skilled." Ivan says beside her and she was forced to look away from the girl who used to be her best friend.

And- Oh! Another surprise.

She really couldn't understand anything else. She was lost.

xxxx

The game ended with a draw.

On one side left Marinette and Kagami, on the other, Damian and Kim.

They had come to a halt, no one being able to hit anyone and the game was dragging on. Even if it didn't let it be fun, the sugar effect was crumbling and they were already getting tired.

But even so, the game would continue if it wasn't for Luka (God bless such a good person) warning about the time.

Kim sighed hopelessly, but agrees. They needed to shower and change to sit in the classroom for the rest of the day.

The four soon emerged from attack positions and began picking up the balls thrown across the yard to store. Kim still upset that he didn't go on playing.

"Come on, we'll finish this game later and we'll know who's the best." Damian pats the boy comfortingly on the back and he cheers again with the promise of a rematch.

"Of course, it's me." He heaves his chest proudly.

Chloe laughs at that. "In your dreams, Capuchin."

Kim pouts at her and Max stands on tiptoe so he can rub his hair.

“We're done with the balls. Now let's go home to change clothes.”

Luka appears (he had gone out to fetch their bags and lunch’s trash), his hands busy. He was still sweaty despite being the second to be eliminated.

“I already cleaned and closed the room. Let's go because we'll be late otherwise.”

"Ok mom!" The seven respond and he rolls his eyes.

Marinette was going to take the bag from Luka, but Adrien stops her.

"Mariiiii." He calls, the bright eyes of a mischievous kitten.

She already knew what he wanted.

"Oh God. I can never resist those eyes.” She pretends to be angry and he laughs. "Okay, let's go. Just this once.”

Marinette turns her back to Adrien and stretches her arms back. Adrien doesn't think twice before wrapping his arms around her neck and wrapping his legs around her waist.

She holds his legs to give more security and starts walking, trying to reach the rest of the pack.

"I love you, Mari." Adrien whispers against her ear. "I love you all."

Marinette smiles.

"I-We love you too, kitten."

"And we will protect you." Kagami says, patting his back.

"Thanks. I'm so lucky.” Adrien hides his face in the back of Marinette's neck and sniffs.

They were lucky. Having each other. A family.

EXTRA:

“… Did she just carry him like he weighed nothing?” Mylene blinks once more to make sure she was seeing right.

“Chloe was laughing. Really laughing.” Sabrina says. She looked stunned.

"Kitty…" Alya mutters. She still couldn't get it out of her mind.

"Did Damian have a septum ring or was I imagining that?" Rose asks.

"Mom?" Juleka whispers.

"Kitty." Alya again.

“Capuchin.” Nathaniel puts his hands against his head and squeezes.

"Kim gave up on a competition..." Alix says in surprise.

“They looked very close.” Lila points out.

“KITTY!” Alya shouts.

Nino and Ivan just watch the class catch fire... and Alya lose her mind.

[tag list]

@northernbluetongue @gimme-more-caffeine @kris-pines04 @drarryismylife101 @puzzlelover431 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @krispydefendorpolice @asheanomhominem  @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @cutechip @just-an-avarage-nerds-blog​ @lirulua @j-a-n-e--d-o-e @naclychilli

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Overdone” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt objects to the amount of mistletoe the decorating committee at NYADA hangs for Christmas … until he sees his chance to get a kiss from the man of his dreams. But catching Blaine underneath the mistletoe, even in a school covered in it, turns out to be more difficult than Kurt thought. (1693 words)

Notes: Re-vamped for the Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'dispensable'.

Read on AO3.

Kurt expected NYADA to decorate for Christmas. And considering he attends a school for the dramatic arts, he also figured the decorations would be over-the-top. But he takes exception to the ridiculous amount of mistletoe the decorating committee deemed fit to hang on everything, each bundle flanked on both sides by red garland (probably as a warning to less approachable people to run, which he appreciates). 

Kurt sees mistletoe as problematic - a completely dispensable part of holiday decorating. 

NYADA, on the other hand - not so much.

It hangs in hallways, in doorways, in bathrooms (definitely a sexual assault charge waiting to happen), tacked up as far as the eye can see. He removes a few of the less appropriate ones as a public service, especially when he discovers one dangling over his desk in costume design class.

There seem to be two camps of people when it comes to mistletoe – those who flock to it and those who avoid it like the plague.

Kurt identifies with the latter.

That is until he passes Blaine, the man he's been crushing on hardcore, in the hallway and sees him get caught beneath a sprig with another student. She shyly perches up on her toes to kiss Blaine on the cheek, and Kurt realizes this vile flora could be the key to unlocking a brilliant plan.

An excuse to kiss Blaine.

He's been trying to find a way of telling Blaine that he likes him since the moment they met. But regardless of the time they've spent together (mainly in class and on school productions), he has yet to find a way to let it slip. 

He doesn't know how to make the first move.

At this rate, he'll be doomed to pining from afar until the end of the school year. 

As fate would have it, as Kurt starts contemplating a plan to catch Blaine under the mistletoe, he finds he's standing underneath a bunch tied in red and white striped ribbon.

“Hello, Blaine!” Kurt calls, jumping at the opportunity when Blaine bustles by.

“Oh! Hey, Kurt!” Blaine smiles when he says Kurt’s name but keeps his nose buried in the score of a musical he’s planning on auditioning for over the break. 

Hence, the mistletoe above Kurt's head goes unnoticed.

Blaine turns the corner at the end of the hall and disappears.

“Well,” Kurt says sarcastically to himself, watching Blaine go, “that went well.”

***

The second time Kurt sees his chance, he’s pulling costumes for a production that Blaine is co-directing. While Blaine sits in the front row of the theater, supervising a dress rehearsal, Kurt finds mistletoe hanging in the costume vault. He stealthily hides the three suits he’s supposed to be looking for behind another rack and sends Blaine a text.

To Blaine:

Having trouble finding the suits for Act 3. Please come to the vault and advise. Thanks!

He stands underneath the mistletoe, popping an Altoid for good measure. Several times he hears footsteps approach the door, but they eventually walk by. 

Then ... a pause.

A distracting flutter grows in his stomach. The cramped room starts getting progressively hotter. After what seems like an hour, another set of footsteps approach. 

This time, they stop. 

The door opens. 

A face peeks in. 

And ...

Rachel bounces in. 

“Hey, Kurt!” Her eyes land on him for only a second, then she starts scanning the racks. “Blaine said you need help finding the---oops!” She bites her lower lip, eyes darting upward. “Look who I caught under the mistletoe?” Before Kurt can object, she skips up to him and plants a cherry red kiss on his left cheek. “Ah! There they are!” She pushes past him without taking a breath. “They were right behind you! If they were snakes, they would have bitten you!”

“Oh, were they?” he says, watching her double-check the tags on the hangers, ensuring that these are, indeed, the correct suits. “Well, you know … last place you look.”

She snags the suits, pinches his non-kissed cheek, and heads out the door.

“Merry Christmas!” she sings. “And you’d better watch your head! That mistletoe is  everywhere! ”

“Will do. Thanks for the warning.” Kurt watches her leave, waiting for the door to click completely shut before he throws an unattractive tantrum.

***

The third time Kurt tries to enact his plan, he takes no chances. He sets himself up underneath the mistletoe in the hall outside the dance room, knowing Blaine will have to pass by there on the way to his T.A. assignment. He sends Blaine a text, asking to meet, vague as to why. He can’t think of a convincing reason, and he doesn’t want to lie, but it doesn’t matter. Blaine says he'll be there even without an explanation.

Kurt smooths down his shirt, fixes his hair, tugs at the hem of his jacket, readjusts his shoulder strap. He can't stop fidgeting. The anticipation is unbearable! 

The students in Cassie July’s class start to file out. Kurt does his best to look inconspicuous, but they ignore him anyway, talking excitedly about their upcoming holiday plans. Cassie follows them out, muttering about, “Fucking Christmas decorations!” and “Tacky ass tinsel!" She catches Kurt standing outside her classroom and glares at him as if he farted.

“Uh, Merry Christmas,” Kurt says with a weak smile.

“For God’s sake!” she growls, leaping up with an arm raised. For a second, he thinks she's about to smack him or dunk on him like a basketball hoop. She snatches the mistletoe off the wall. “I hate this stupid romantic Christmas shit!” Without a word to Kurt, she storms down the hallway, strangling the mistletoe in her hand, and tosses it in the trash.

“Hey, Kurt!” Blaine walks up to him, unaware of the violence against vegetation that just took place. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Uh ...” Kurt looks up at the torn garland hanging pathetically above his head. That's how he feels – pathetic. Why can't he get this one thing right? With the amount of mistletoe hanging about, the odds of him getting kissed by Blaine are in his favor. Maybe he should take this as a sign. He sighs. “You know what? Never mind.”

***

Kurt has one last chance to make this happen before classes wrap for winter break. He knows that Blaine’s last class lets out at 2:30, so Kurt leaves his class early, grabbing his books and his bag at 1:45 and racing out mid-lecture, hoping to make it to the front hallway before Blaine and cut him off.

Students have already started crowding the hallway, exchanging gifts, saying their last goodbyes before they leave for the next three weeks.

Kurt spots a cluster of red garland, and he knows that where there’s red garland, there’s mistletoe. He slides underneath it, standing there like a sentry, keeping an eye peeled for Blaine’s curls through the mob. Right on schedule (or actually, five minutes before), Blaine comes around the corner, carrying his bag bulging with everything he keeps at school over his shoulder. 

So Kurt knows he’s leaving for the duration.

Not that he's going far. Kurt knows for a fact that Blaine's apartment is within walking distance of his loft. Even if Blaine goes home to visit his parents, they both come from the same state. They're bound to run into one another before the beginning of next semester.

Still, it feels like this is it. 

His last chance.

“Blaine!” Kurt calls through a new wave of students washing into the hallway from behind him. “Blaine, can we …?”

“Kurt!” Blaine sees Kurt over the crowd but doesn't slow his steps as he hurries toward the door. “I’m sorry I missed you earlier, but I really have to run!”

“Blaine! Blaine! I just wanted to …!”

“I’m sorry, Kurt!” Blaine turns and waves, walking backward towards the door with a sympathetic smile. “I have to go!”

“Oh … okay.” Kurt waves back, sighing in defeat. “Merry Christmas.”

Kurt watches Blaine leave, a weight growing in the pit of his stomach. Serves him right, relying on some stupid Christmas tradition to get what he wants! A tradition he  hates ! He should have just gone up and asked him. 

Yeah, and how would that go? 

We’ve had coffee a few times, went to the movies twice, and ate lunch together. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I think I'm in love with you. Would you kiss me?

Pathetic. 

That's what he is. 

That's what this all is! 

Like Cassie said - stupid romantic Christmas ...!

Kurt feels a tap on his shoulder and freezes.

Shit ! He’s still standing under the mistletoe! Someone is behind him, expecting a kiss. With any luck, it's just Rachel again, delighted to catch him twice doing something that makes him  really  uncomfortable. 

He sighs, resigning himself to the fate of having to kiss some random human unintentionally.

“Okay,” he says, turning around to face destiny. “Let’s do this.”

“Gladly.” An arm around his waist pulls him close. The familiar smell of Pierre Cardin fills his nose. He feels himself dip back, catching a flash of hazel eyes and a sly grin before lips capture his – soft and warm and incredibly gentle. It’s a breath of a kiss, lasting only long enough for Kurt to realize he’s being kissed, and by  who , before the man cradling him in his arms pulls away. 

Blaine sets him upright, holding him a second longer to make certain he has his feet.

"Oh!" Kurt mutters, the shock of being kissed by Blaine taking his breath, and his capacity for thought, away. But then he remembers, "Oh. Right. Mistletoe." 

That wasn't a genuine kiss. Blaine doesn't like him like that. Kurt set himself up for this. 

His gaze travels up, but over their heads, there is no mistletoe – just a string of fluffy red garland and a gold foil star.

Not a single semi-parasitic shrub in sight.

“Nope,” Blaine says, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s a second time. “I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Begins

Part 14

Chapter Summary: The reader and Jensen enjoy their time together in whatever way that they can. 

Word Count: 3.2K+

Warnings: Language, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, awkward conversation

Author’s Note: This part really got the better of me, and I’m not even sorry for the extremely awkward scene in here. Besides, I think it will work out interestingly in later parts. It was inspired by an actual conversation between Jared and Jensen. Once you read I’m sure you’ll know what I’m talking about ;) Okay, enough rambling.... enjoy! xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist then head on over to Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

Keeping their extracurricular activities contained to Jensen’s apartment was, for the most part, an easy endeavor. The tricky part was not letting Clif in on their secret. She spent her fair share of money on Ubers back and forth from Jensen’s apartment in the evenings. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Clif to keep their secret, it was that they didn’t want to put him in the position that he would have to. In the end, she would say that it was worth it. The two of them had the chance to act like a semi normal couple. At least, there was no one she had to lie to about where she was going. Unfortunately, their week was up quicker than they had anticipated. 

A soft ding rang out in the quiet room. The sun was just rising over the horizon as he stirred awake. Jensen reached over for his phone, careful not to disturb the woman sleeping next to him. He opened his phone, only one eye open as he adjusted to the light. He had to read the text twice before his sleep riddled brain could comprehend what he had read. 

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath and rolled over. He gently shook her shoulder and she groaned in response.

“Sweetheart, you gotta get up.”

“Why?” she whined, her face still stuffed into the pillow. The two of them had spent the beginning of their Saturday night drinking too much beer and eating more pizza than was humanly possible followed by an emotional viewing of Titanic, much to Jensen’s dismay. Then they spent the rest of it rolling around between Jensen’s sheets.

“Jared just texted me, he’s back early and wants to shoot some hoops. He’s already on his way over here.” Jensen explained as he brushed her hair from her face. At the news of her brother heading their way, she bolted upright. 

“What? Fuck!” She nearly fell out of the bed in her haste to get up. She picked up her various articles of clothing around the room, slipping them on as she went. “Oh, god. If he noticed I wasn’t home, shit. Does he not wait for a response?” Her thoughts just fell from her mouth as they crossed her mind. She looked over at Jensen who was out of bed now too.

“Apparently not.” He shrugged as he slipped a t-shirt over his head. He grabbed a pair of basketball shorts as he chased after her out of his room. She was running around the kitchen, looking for her coat and purse, Jensen just watching her, not sure how to help her at that moment. 

“Babe, have you seen my phone?” She asked as she pulled on her coat, her hands searching the pockets for any trace of it. 

“Um, last I saw it was on the coffee table.” He moved towards the couch. Sure enough, there it still sat. He grabbed it for her and she rushed to him. 

“Thank you.” She pulled the phone from his hand, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Anytime.” He followed her to the front door of his apartment. “Hey, Y/n/n?” She paused, half way out the open door. 

“Yeah?” She turned towards him. Her hair was still disheveled from their activities last night and sleep. Her mascara had run in the corners of her eyes a little bit, but the smile on her face as she turned to him, well, he swore his heart skipped a beat. 

“This is okay, right?” He knew she would understand what he was asking. Neither one of them had stepped into this relationship with any preconceived notions about what this was. That didn’t mean he felt bad, kicking her out in the morning like she was his mistress and his wife would be here any second. 

She flashed him a wicked smile and shrugged. “It’s kinda fun actually. Running around and fucking each other in secret, it’s all kind of thrilling.” 

“You’re sure?.” 

“I’m sure, Jay. I gotta go, though.” She kissed him again, letting her lips linger for a moment this time. He had to fight the urge to chase after her as she pulled away from him. He watched her head the opposite way down the hall and disappeared into the stairwell. 

Jared arrived not even ten minutes later, a basketball in hand. 

“Why do we always have to shoot hoops so early?” Jensen complained as he let Jared into his apartment. Jared followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed a water bottle to fill up. 

“Cause old man, it’s good for you.” He teased, setting the ball down on his island. “Speaking of which, I drank a lot of water this morning, I gotta hit the head.” Jensen waved Jared off as he ran to the bathroom. He shook his head to himself. Jared was insufferable when it came to being healthy. Sometimes, it scared him how much the two of them really were like Sam and Dean. On some days, they were nearly indistinguishable. 

Jensen was screwing the lid onto his water bottle as Jared came back into the kitchen.

“So, did you have a good night last night?” Jared asked, his eyes narrowed at Jensen as he sat down on one of the bar stools. If Jensen had been taking a drink at that moment, he would have spit it everywhere. 

“I mean, I guess.” His voice had risen, the difference in octave only noticeable by him. 

“Dude,” Jared cocked his head. “I know.” Jensen swore he was having a heart attack then. This is what they felt like, right? His heart was in his throat and he couldn’t remember how to breathe. There was no way Jared knew, he would not be this casual if he did.

“Know what?” Jensen kept up his innocent demeanor as his heart beat pounded in his ears. 

“You got laid last night and you didn’t tell me.” Jared shoved his shoulder across the counter. He continued when Jensen cocked his head in confusion. “You didn’t do a good job of hiding the evidence in your bathroom. Now come on, give me all the details. Was she hot?” 

“Well, I don’t... let’s just drop it. And stop being so damn nosey, dude.” Jensen tripped over his words as he tried to come up with something coherent to say. Jared really was too nosey for his own good. Like who in their right mind looks through people's trash? 

“What? It’s not like we haven’t talked about these things in the past. Please, I need to live vicariously through you, kids really put a damper on your sex life. Gen and I barely got two minutes alone all week.” Jared was now giving Jensen Sam’s signature puppy dog eyes. 

“Believe me when I say that you do not want to hear the details.” Jensen mumbled trying not to meet Jared’s eyes. 

“Why was she crazy?” Jensen’s eyes were nearly bulging from his head as he silently begged his friend to just shut up. “She asked you to do something weird didn’t she? Girls are into weird shit nowadays, I guess, I don’t really know. When Gen-” 

“Jared!” Jensen cut him off, really not wanting to hear him say anything else. The two of them had talked about the occasional hookup, Jared less so since he got married, but if he knew what he was saying right now, he’d cut out his own tongue. But Jensen also knew if he didn’t say anything, Jared would not give up. “If I tell you one little thing, will you shut up about it?” 

“Fine.” Jared relented and shifted in his seat like an excited puppy eager for a treat.

Jensen thought over what to say next. He had to come up with something that wouldn’t scar Jared for life if and when their relationship eventually came out, for whatever reason, but also juicy enough to shut him up. “Yes, she was hot. No, she did not ask me to do anything... weird. Happy?” 

“No man, come on, you gotta give me something more than that.” Jared looked at him like a kid in a candy store. He wanted anything but to say the next thing to come out of his mouth, but he knew Jared would not let it go if he didn’t give him something. 

“Fine. She is… particularly well skilled with her… with her mouth.” Jensen tried not to look completely disgusted as he said it out loud. He felt dirty saying out loud. Jensen had a little sister too, and if her husband ever said anything like that to him, he would probably kill him. God, he was so dead. 

“Yeah she was.” Jared was practically cackling while Jensen imagined himself rolling into a tiny ball and then off of a cliff. 

“Can we just go now, please?” Jensen grabbed his water bottle and headed for his front door. 

“Year sure, but if you hook up with this girl again, I want to meet her.” Jared followed after him, a huge smile still plastered on his face. 

I wouldn’t be so sure of that...

****

That following Monday brought all three of them back to set. It was a typical morning, complete with the oddest conversations she had heard two people have. 

“I really don’t think you are getting my point here.” Jensen was focused on her as she worked on his face, though he was currently talking to her brother. It was a tiny habit that Jared hadn’t picked up on, for which she was thankful. She loved the warm feeling his small smile sent through her whole body, too much to make Jensen stop.  

“Oh, it’s you who doesn’t understand my brother.” Jared promised from the chair next to him. 

“Macaulay Culkin would kick Michael Cera’s ass. He’s a crafty little devil.” Jensen argued his side. The two of them had started this whole ‘who would win in a fight’ conversation nearly twenty minutes ago. Neither had yet to make a compromise. 

“No way, in hand to hand combat, Michael’s got the upper hand.”  

“Are you serious? Macaulay's got experience. When have you ever seen Michael in a fight scene?” Jensen shifted his focus back on her. “Y/n please knock some sense into your brother.” 

“Oh no, don’t bring me into this.” Her eyebrows rose on her forehead as she fought back a smile. These two guys could really get out of hand in their conversations. She couldn’t even remember what had started this whole thing in the first place. It was entertaining, she had to admit, but she couldn’t take sides in this one. There is no way she would win. 

“She’s afraid of what you’ll do to her if she agrees with me.” Jensen pointed an accusing finger at Jared. 

“Ah, you are always so confident that I agree with you, huh?” She leaned back against the countertop and crossed her arms. 

“Yeah, cause I’m usually right and both of you know it.” Jensen’s tongue was peeking between his teeth as he stared up at her. The glint in his eye felt like a personal challenge, so she decided to weigh her options.

“Well big guy, I’m sorry to disappoint you but, I have to go with Jared on this one. Michael is a bigger dude and he’s also not weakened by drug addiction.” Jared threw his head back and clapped as he let out his laughter. Jensen’s smile dropped and Y/n was biting the inside of her cheek as she tried to keep a straight face. . 

“If anything the drugs give him an edge.” Jensen muttered under his breath as he stood. Y/n broke then as Jensen muttered his way out of the trailer. She may pay for that one later, but it would be worth it.

“I really would have thought you would have sided with him.” Trish was giggling as she continued to work on Jared. 

“I was, until he got cocky.” She smirked as she collected the makeup into Jensen’s bag. Jared burst out laughing again.

“That’s my girl.” Jared held up his hand to her and she high fived him. 

Y/n went back to collecting the items she would need on set that day when she saw if laying underneath her belt. “Jay left his phone.”

“I’ll take it to him.” Jared held out his hand for the phone without even looking her way. She hesitated, weighing her options yet again. On one hand, she could hand it over and let Jared return it on set. On the other, she was done until filming started and if she took it to him now, they would have a few minutes alone in Jensen’s trailer. 

“I can take it. Besides, Trish isn’t done fixing your face.” She held the phone against her chest. “I’ll see you guys on set.” 

She skipped out of the trailer with Jensen’s bag and phone in hand. Jensen’s trailer wasn’t far from the makeup one, allowing her to arrive in no time. She stepped up onto the first step and knocked on the door. 

“Come in.” Jensen's voice came muffled through the door. With a deep breath, she opened the door and entered. 

“Hey, you forgot your phone.” She started, her voice trailing off as she took him in. He had nixed the flannel and was in just a t-shirt. The material was tight over the expanse of his back and around his biceps. The whole view was intoxicating, and the blood rushing through her body suddenly had her feeling warm. 

“Did I?” Jensen turned towards her, his one eyebrow raised. She flashed the device in her hand before placing it on the counter top. “Hmm...” His lips pursed slightly, hiding a smirk. 

She bit her lip as she realized what he had done. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?” She raked her eyes up his body as he inched closer to her. 

“Maybe...”

“What if Jared had found it? Or Trish? It would have foiled your evil little plan.” She ran her hands up his arms as he slipped his around her waist. 

“Trust me, I was careful to put it where I knew you would find it.” He cocked his head and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips. Her body relaxed against his as she allowed herself to be in the moment, to just feel him against her.

“Next time just say something.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jensen asked as he trailed his lips across her jaw. A shiver ran through her as his lips ghosted across her skin. The hairs across her skin stood up against the stimulation and she could tell her breathing was already picking up.

“I thought we always had fun.” She admitted as her fingers flexed against the muscles of his arms. The timbre in her voice dropped as she licked her lips “I mean, I know I do.” 

A growl rolled up Jensen’s throat and suddenly he was tugging her back towards the couch. 

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that.” Jensen stopped and put both hands on either side of her face. She grinned up at him. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Cause now I want to bend you over that couch and fuck you until you feel me between your legs all day.” His voice was dangerously low as his hands roamed down and over the globes of her ass. Heat was pooling in her lower belly and her arousal got the better of her. His presence had that effect on her now. Ever since they broke that damn, everything about him drew her in. His jaw, his smell, the way his jeans made his legs look thick and long. She found herself clenching her legs on set just watching him work. 

“So, why don’t you?” Her voice was breathy as she clutched her fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt at his back. 

“I’ve got to be on set in twenty minutes.” His voice was broken as he weakly protested her offer. Jensen brushed a few hairs from her face as she looked up at him. 

“Sounds to me like you’ve got fifteen minutes to make it happen.” Jensen chuckled and stepped away from her, holding up his index finger at her confused expression. She watched as he went to the door and locked it. A huge grin spread across her face as he came back to her. His eyes were dark as he turned her in one swift movement and pulled her back flush against his chest. 

“Challenge accepted.” Jensen nipped at the sensitive skin below her ear and her hips jutted back against him in response. Jensen’s hands worked their way up her sides and around her breasts. His fingers tugged against her nipples through her bra. She let her head fall back against his shoulder as he rolled the hardened nubs in between his fingers. 

“Jay,” 

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He promised as his right hand travelled down her stomach and into the waistband of her leggings. She mewled as his fingers slipped through her folds and began his ministrations.

“Damn baby, always so wet for me.” She nodded, her eyes closed. Her right hand slid up to the side of his head, her lips searching over his jaw as she held onto him. 

“Only you.” Their bodies moved together as her hips searched for friction. She could feel his hard length against her ass as she pushed against him. If his arms weren’t around her, she thought she might collapse under her shaking legs. Her breaths were coming rapidly as her climax grew, the fire inside her heightening all her senses. She was so close when Jensen pulled his hand from her pants. 

“Fuck.” She gasped, the electricity in her body fading as Jensen let go of her. The sound of Jensen’s belt jingling had her blinking her eyes open. She didn’t have time to react before his hands were on her hips again. He pulled down her leggings and panties just below the knee and bent her over. Her hands fell on the back of the couch just in time to catch her fall. 

“I missed this view.” Jensen huffed as he ran his cock through her folds before pressing into her entrance. 

“Mhm, just move.” She pushed back against him. Their time was limited and he was wasting it. “Patience is a virtue you know.” He smacked a hand against her ass, the sting shooting to her core and causing her pussy to clench around him. Jensen growled in response, the action only encouraging him to move faster. 

“Ha!” The sound that left her came from deep in her chest and she couldn’t have helped it even if she wanted to. They were in no position to be discussing virtues. Jensen gripped both hands on her hips, pulling her back to him hard in response as he thrust forward. 

“Fuck, baby you’re so tight.” She didn’t trust her voice any longer, opting to just nod. The coil was tightening inside her and her whole body was vibrating. It was like she no longer recognized herself when they had sex. Never before had she been able to let loose so easily, let alone find her peak so quickly. Jensen had awoken something inside her she never thought was possible, but here she was, ready to come in no time. 

Sensing she was close, Jensen put an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. He snaked his fingers down and rubbed against her clit in tight circles. Her hands flew to his forearm grounding herself as her body convulsed, trying to flee from the stimulation. 

“Shit shit shit.” Jensen cursed as her orgasm brought him to his own. He pulled himself from her just in time to release himself on her ass.

“Hold on.” He put himself back into his briefs before grabbing a dish towel. He cleaned her up before helping her pull her leggings back into place. She turned to him, her lip caught between her teeth as she watched him fix his jeans. 

“Was that fast enough?” He grinned when he caught her staring at him. He checked the watch on his wrist, making sure neither of them were late. 

“Mhmm. Yup.” She closed her eyes with a sigh and bobbed her head. 

“Good. Now go. I’ll see you on set.” He playfully swatted her behind to get her moving. 

“Yes, sir.” She mocked a salute to him, winking when she caught the slight rise of his one eyebrow from her words. As she pulled open the door and peeked around for signs of people, she committed his response to memory, ready to use that one later.

Part 15

Forevers:@spn-impala​ @22sarah08 @turtlepad @callmekda @chaldei @hobby27 @casualfestivaltrashpainter @cowboysnwinchesters @tranquility-or-chaos @pikabootoyouchu @dawnie1988 @grease222 @frackinawesomeninja @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @polina-93 @clarinette07 @moonlight-babeh @suckerforfanfic @witandnargles @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @geeksareunique @akshi8278

Et Cetera:@jbbarnesgirl​ @hillface89​ @arses21434​ @thevelvetseries​ @sslater34​ @mrsirishboru​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @spnfamily-j2​ @encounterthepast​ @facadeformyrealblog  @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​ @rebeccathefangirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @heartinmyhead1 @1d-killed-me​ @samsgirl93​ @deans-baby-momma @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @woodworthti666​ @supraveng​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @heartsaved​ @know2grow​ @littlewhiterose​ @surprisinglysarah​ @stoneyggirl​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @thebookisbtr​ @youaremyfiveever​ @supersassyprobablysad @lilulo-12​ @winchester-fantasies​ 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

What Do We Have?

Based on the word: Onsra: n., the bittersweet feeling that occurs in those who know their love won't last.

What happens when what you have with someone isn't quite what you wanted it to be?

***No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translation***

Reader Insert, No specific gender, race, or sexuality!

Is lovers to friends a trope? Because, I think I want it to be a trope.

Enjoy my masterlist

____________________________________________

Calum’s not sure when he first noticed it. It might’ve been somewhere between all the nights sitting out in his backyard as you both sip from sweating glasses and all the afternoons at your place where you’d show him some recipe you wanted to try and he agreed to be sous chef. Some of those dishes turned out better than others. But somewhere in between all that, Calum knows. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy or call it intuition. After making his mistakes, having his wild youth, Calum was ready to set his life on cruise control and take the bumps and lumps but enjoy the ride. 

It was different for you. He saw that. You took every opportunity by the horns and if it blew up in your face, there was hell to pay for it. Every blue was more vibrant. Every spark shined ten times brighter. Calum would be a liar if he said he didn’t like that. If that didn’t tickle his fancy to see the passion in you. But it made him ponder. It made him wonder would you leave at the first hitch. Would you cut ties when he had to go? That’s the inevitable truth. He would have to leave eventually, with touring and promotion. 

“You’re thinking too much.”

Calum looks to his left, where you are curled up with Duke on your lap. The afternoon sun is just cresting its peak. It’s warm out, a breeze blowing through the privacy shrubbery every so often that helps the both of you forget that sweat is pooling down your backs and on your foreheads. “It’s not a crime to think.”

“But it might be a crime to think too much.”

“And what do you suggest that I do instead hm?” You had come over, just to hang out. Your latest binge together on Netflix had been fully consumed. The two of you sat on Calum’s couch scrolling endlessly through the suggestions but there wasn’t anything that caught either of your eyes. That’s when you suggested just taking a dip in the pool, or at least just stepping outside for some fresh air. 

Now, you grow restless. Wanting to do something, go somewhere, see something, taste something new. It doesn’t really matter the specifics. “The new arcade place just opened up near the mall. We can go there.”

Calum nods. There’s no shock that he feels at your suggestion. He sees the twinkle even behind the way you bite down on your lower lip. There it is, the insatiable urge to take on something. “The least I can do is kick your ass in skee ball since you took today off.”

Fixing Calum with a glare, you stand, Duke safely tucked in your arms. “You’re on, Hood.” 

He watches you, feet silent over the concrete as you saunter back into the house. His fingertips don’t ache like they used too. He should’ve run after you, tickled your sides, or pinched your ass and made you laugh. But instead, he sits, watches you go and wonders if he’s actually going to beat you or not. He wonders if his skills can handle his own trash talk. It wouldn’t hurt his pride if his skills were lackluster. 

In the car, he lets you control the radio. You fiddle for a moment before your phone connects and softly through his speaker he hears an old school funky bassline. You watch the cut of Calum’s jaw and the way he reclines into the driver seat. The sight makes your chest warm but you wonder if Calum really wants to go to the arcade. You worry he’s only going because you want to go, because you can’t sit still. Would he ever grow tired of you? Would he ever try to tie you down, make you into something that you weren’t? 

It would wear him thin eventually, you figured. He had a much slower pace that he liked to consume life at. You chalk it up to the fact that he’s life can be so jammed packed for months if not a year at a time with touring that when he can get a moment to relax, he savors it like children and ice cream before dinner. You didn’t truly think he would try to make you into something you’re not. Though the thought and worry never fully escapes you. It seems like no one would ever fully escape their fears, just enough to let the delusion settle in. Everyone would escape just enough to let their hair down and not look over their shoulder at every moment, just every once and awhile. 

In bright red and pink neon lights, Arcadeocity blinks in front of them. Calum pulls into a parking spot. It’s not terribly business given it’s the middle of the week and the summer hasn’t officially hit just yet. “Ready to get your ass kicked?” he teases, one hand guiding the seatbelt as it slides back against the inner frame. 

“The question is are you ready to pay for drinks after I kick your ass?”

“I was born ready.”

Inside, it’s dim and there are some kids running about. But it’s quiet. Calum heads to the counter, gathering the quarters. You look over, seeing the racing games, the ones where you sit and the ones with the bikes. A machine goes off, lots of buzzing and high zings. You look over to see one of the machines lighting up, the conditioned response for any winner. Two small boys are cheering, arms raising above their heads as the machine spits out the tickets in return. 

There are tables off to the sides, for parents to sit, sip at their drinks and pray their children can keep occupied enough to not worry them for a small blimp of time. Though their gazes never leave their children for too long. One mother raises her hand, calling out the child’s name. “You’re going too far.”

“Oh, it’s not going to hurt them,” the father counters. “You remember the code right?” he calls outs. 

You spot the small child, dressed in blue overalls and high top sneakers. “I remember Dad.” They’re no older than eight or so, you figure. 

He waves them on. “Go head. Just make sure to check in after every game, alright?” 

The child nods, a grin on their face. “Thanks, Dad!” 

“Should we work our way up to the main event?” Calum asks, rejoining you now. His pockets jiggle a little. 

You turn your attention to him, thinking for the slightest moment that Calum would be that kind of dad, if he ever wanted to be. That would let his kid go and be free. But the second they needed him he’d swoop in. That’s what he did. Calum kind of swooped in it seemed to be his MO especially since that’s how the two of you met. You’d be lying if you said otherwise. You hadn’t even seen him in the aisle, preoccupied with trying to avoid the kids that had just cut the corner. You stumbled, managing to avoid them and right when you thought you’d wind up smacking into the shelves holding up rice and pasta, strong arms wound around your arm to keep your balance. 

“Racing game first?”

He nods. The dimness cut by the lights and glitz of the games, his eyes look like blackholes. Or maybe more like tunnels with a light at the end of them with the shiny reflection right in the middle of his pupil. 

Calum wins the first race and nearly beats you for third in the second race. As you both slip off the motorcycles, you collect the tickets from your machines. “I’m better with four wheels,” you laugh.

With a thumb over his shoulder, he grins. “I’ve got a pocket full of change. Prove it, sweets.”

You do. Pulling ahead of Calum in both races. You come in third while he comes in fifth in the first. You manage a dirty fourth place, leaving Calum in seventh. It shouldn’t have been fourth but somehow you landed on a shortcut that saved you from eighth up to fifth. It was a fight for fourth but you managed it as you downshifted into fifth gear in the game and took the straightaway with ease.  

“What the actual hell?” Calum laughs, after seeing you actually using the clutch and stick shift. “I didn’t think any of that actually mattered?”

“Dad taught me how to drive stick shift and now it’s just a habit now, I guess.” 

It’s with a click of his tongue that Calum nods but admits his defeat. The both of you are observing, wondering where to go next. He asks you, if there’s anything that interests you. You could spend hours here, playing every game in sight. But you let him choose. You let him set the pace. Maybe it’s in the hopes that you can keep hold onto Calum for just a little bit longer. “You wanted to come here. I’m sure you’re dying to play something,” he concedes. 

“Let’s shoot some hoops,” you suggest. 

“You don’t--you sure?” It’s a silent nod and a gentle grasp of his wrist before you lead him to the basketball hoops. You two don’t even need to make it a competition. Just for fun. Just something to laugh while you do, attempting to throw him off his rhythm by flattering but never being successful. In the end, you don’t read the red numbers at the screen, just take the tickets it does give you. 

“Skee ball?” he asks, folding his tickets. It seems to go on forever, the end hitting the floor and somehow crawling over it too just a little. 

“Sure. If you’re ready to cry of course.”

Calum’s ears are full of the sounds of the game, taunting them, praising them, lighting up and shouting at every ball that sinks into a hole. But right below that is your laughter, your shriek, “You’re supposed to let me win!”

He has no rebuttal, just a feeling. Something like amusement and a tiny bit of guilt. Like maybe he should be more mindful, like maybe he should be toying more carefully. But at the same time, his chest flutters, when you shove at his shoulder and let out an indignant squawk that turns up into a laugh. He won by 100 points. “Round two?”

“Of fucking course,” you huff. Calum drops the quarters into your upturn palm and you guys feed them into their slots simultaneously. He wins again. 75 points as the lead, which stings less, but still. “It’s just an off day,” you say. There’s a smirk on your face and you can accept the defeat but not without a little bit of stink about it. 

Over the course of an hour, you two play more games, stopping for a quick snack break. At the end, you go up to the counter first, Calum excusing himself for a moment to the restroom. There’s a small stuffed dog hanging on the second most top shelf. His ticket cost is high but after some successful rounds on the racetrack, you manage to squeak just enough to get him.  When Calum returns, you’re standing with your arms behind your back. “You hiding something.” It’s more of a question but it comes out factual. 

“Me? No, never.”

He laughs. At the counter, Calum looks over the possibilities. Part of him knows he should go the extravagant route. He’s done it before, with the stuffed animals and big ticket items. But he spies some alien trinkets instead and grabs two for you. He still has a stack left, so he grabs the small bean bag toy in the shape of a soccer ball. “You’ve still got quite the haul left,” the attendant states. 

“Save ‘em for the next kid.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. They’ll need them more than me.” Before Calum can reach you, you hold the stuff toy in front of your chest. “Very cute.”

“For you.” 

His brow twitches, pulling down like he can’t quite believe it. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” You urge him to take it and swallow down the urge to tell him he can give it to Duke. You want him to know it’s for him. No matter what. You did it for him. 

“Thank you.” Almost sheepishly he exchanges the stuffed toy for alien trinkets. One’s a keychain and you smile. “Perfect for the collection?”

“Of course.” It is perfect. It’s thoughtful. And part of you wants to kick yourself for not getting the inflatable soccer ball, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Because clearly those are more Calum, those are more thoughtful than just a stuffed animal. Calum makes a show though, buckling the dog into the backseat, after shifting the towel that Duke usually rests on and maybe, it’s not such a bad gift after all. 

It’s in the car as Calum ponders aloud choices for dinner that you asked to be taken back to your place. You do have an early morning and Calum doesn’t think too much of it. It’s not until that gets back home and settles the stuffed dog onto his bed that he remembers the recipe the both of you were going to try. He had gone to the grocery store and everything. It feels wrong to try it without you. He can’t let it go to waste though. 

I’m going to drop you off a plate. That’s the text from him not even ten minutes after he drops you off. You remember all at once the dinner plans. How could you have forgotten that? Truth be told, you had fun. Arcadeocity scratched that itch to get out. But you didn’t want to intrude too much on Calum’s free time. Which, when the hell did that start being a concern? Calum was pretty direct and honest if he needed time to himself. 

Maybe it was just a time thing. You were starting to understand Calum more and even though he would be vocal about needing space, you knew how much he valued it. And you valued your own space too. Truth be told, you were starting to want more of it. Or maybe it was more time to do whatever by yourself. Or maybe the reason really didn’t matter because now, sitting on your own couch, you feel a little less like you’ve been stuffed into a box. 

Calum arrives at your door with a reusable bag full. “I just made the whole recipe and split it in half. You can take it into work tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quick brush, his lips pressing into the flesh of your forehead. “Of course.” 

___________________

Of course that feeling comes back. When Calum calls and hears the rattle of music in the background, he knows you’re out. It’s the second weekend in a row you’ve walked out on the town. The second weekend in the row you’ve made those plans without really consulting Calum, just going. Not that you thought you’d be out again. But when your coworker mentioned wanting to go out, you didn’t want the opportunity to pass you by. Letting Calum didn’t quite cross your mind either. 

Part of Calum feels like he should be fighting more against that, fighting to maybe get more time. But he doesn’t. “Have fun. Let me know if you need a ride,” he says, unsure if he needs to shout to be heard over the receiver. 

“Okay, will do!” The call ends and he drops into his sofa. Part of him is relieved, strangely. He doesn’t have to worry about having to do something. He doesn’t have to muster up the energy. He had it. If you weren’t out and about, he wouldn’t have minded doing something but he’d rather sit at home. 

Was he wrong for that? Was it wrong to thank the high heavens you had already preoccupied yourself without him?  Was it wrong to know something wasn’t going to make it all the way to the end but just wanting to take the ride while it was still offered? He enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the laughs and the crazy adventures. But god, did he like doing nothing too. There was nothing wrong with that. Right?

His phone shakes again, later in the night with a text from you. Made it home safely. Am buzzed and I should never wear clothes with buttons ever again when drinking. 

He calls in response. “What happened with said buttons?”

“Fly was open,” you sigh in return, sinking into your own mattress. “Embarrassing.” His giggles cut through the slight fog of alcohol. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, that’s a laughable offense, sweets.”

“Humph!” 

“Need me to come over?”

“Nah, not that drunk. Have-have you got no faith in me?”

“No, I have all the faith in you. Drink some water, okay?” You hum in your agreement, mumbling a good night to him. 

______________

“How long’s the tour?”

“Just shy of seven months. There are breaks, of course.”

You nod. “Of course.” They needed them for their own sanity and health. “I’ll watch Duke. You know I don’t mind.” He hasn’t asked. And Calum doesn’t really need to ask. You’ve always taken the chance to watch over the old man when Calum’s gone. You think you should’ve noticed Calum’s stubble before now. It’s not quite stubble really any more, on the cusp of being the start to a true beard. He usually doesn’t let it get this long. 

How long has it been? You’ve texted and called. But somehow in the catalog of your mind you can’t place the last time you saw him in person for longer than a few minutes. It doesn’t feel wrong, in the sense that you’re worried that things are falling apart. But it is strange. It’s almost like air between you--something that you know is there but can’t quite put a finger on it. It’s somehow distance but not distant. The strange new normal the two of you have created. And you want to be sad. It’s a strange guilt to see now more than ever what’s been expanding between the two of you, but not being upset that it’s happening. 

“I scheduled his appointments already,” Calum says, sliding a couple sheets of paper over to you. “Well, the major ones. I know your summer schedule’s a little different so I tried to keep that in mind too. Thanks again.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” 

Calum’s sure this will be the start of the end. And you are too. But that doesn’t stop you from messaging him just shy of three weeks from the start of the tour. Rehearsals are getting longer and more tiresome. His answers to text and calls are coming later in the night.  I’m dropping off a plate for you.  You send it on your lunch break, hoping that by the time you get off, Calum’s replied. 

And he has: Only if it’s not too much of a bother. Thankyou. 

It’s not long after returning home that you’re back in your car, Calum’s food resting on the floor to keep it from tipping over. At the gate, you worry it’ll take you too long to reach Calum to get inside, but thankfully, Luke and Michael are just ahead of you and let you in. The three of you wander back into the studio space. Michael explains at length the mechanics of a game to Luke. You’re not sure if he’s convincing the taller man, but Luke takes in each detail with a thoughtful face. 

“Please tell me you’re teaching any of this,” Luke teases, glancing at you.

“Dude, I’m just dropping off food. I’ve got nothing.” 

He laughs but agrees ultimately to give a test to Michael’s latest video game obsession. As the door to the space opens, you can’t help but let the soft smile crest your face at Calum’s stretched out figure on the floor. You’re not sure if he’s sleeping, but you know from experience if he gets too relaxed in any position anywhere he can and will fall asleep. “It would be such a shame,” you start, voice bouncing off the walls. Calum cracks a smile even though his eyes are still closed. “If this bowl of pad see ew just happened to take a bad stumble. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he calls out from the floor. He’s slow to look up at you. But when he does, it’s a long gander. You’re still in your work clothes, though the shoes tell him you definitely did go home first. 

“Home cooked,” you offer, lifting the glass container and setting it on the table where Luke, Ashton, and Michael have gathered. 

“Really, thanks. It means a lot.” 

“Of course.”

Calum thinks about that phrase for long after you’re gone and long after he’s consumed the sweet and yet savory noodles. Like, of course--like you wouldn’t be doing anything else but helping him out majorly. Of course, you’d go from a crazy day at work to fixing him dinner. Like of course he shouldn’t have to worry constantly. Like of course this is normal. And it is normal, in some ways. But it’s not normal in others. It’s not normal, he thinks, to go weeks without seeing you and not feeling a super deep ache. There was the missing he felt when he wanted to see his mum, or his sister. But they had always kind of been away from him, ever since he moved out. Calum did miss you, but it never fully consumed him. Never made him mope, or be too down. Or maybe it was normal? Maybe it showed how much the two of you were secure with each other. 

____________________

Did you want to spend a few days together? Rehearsals are pretty much done. I know you’re still working though. 

Calum can’t seem to hit send. 

That last sentence is his out. It’s a way for you to say no without having to feel like an asshole. He knows that. He knows you’ll know that the second you read the text. But he can’t bring himself to delete it. 

With a swift kick of boldness, Calum taps the up arrow. The text lifts and then settles and Delivered sits right underneath the blue text in gray. It’s only an extra ten minutes from your place to work. I don’t mind. 

Most mornings, of the four that you spend with Calum right before the shuttle bus comes to get him, he whines as your alarm goes off. “You can spare five more minutes,” he mumbles into his pillow, one arm raised, not fully like the limbs much too heavy for his body to carry. And at this time in the morning, half past 6, it probably is too heavy to carry. 

“Only five,” you laugh before sliding back into bed, but not under the covers. 

Calum always curls back up into your side, arm thrown across your torso. “Can’t believe you’d leave this nice, warm bed.” 

He almost never mentions leaving him. He doesn't mention leaving you. It’s always the nice, warm bed you’d be leaving, that he’d be leaving. This nestle of comfort and known territory being the only thing tying the two of you together. 

You have to stop yourself from saying it’s just a bed. That any old bed can be nice and warm. Because it always could be any old bed that can be nice and warm. But do you want any old bed or do you want Calum’s? Do you want somebody else? Do you want to fly across skies? Or do you want Calum? 

“It is a nice, warm bed,” you say instead. It’s an agreement that whatever it is between you is nice. Though, you’re not convinced it’ll last. 

The first week of Calum on tour turns into a second. That second one turns into a third. And by the third week rolls around, the most your phone buzzes or chimes with anything related to Calum is a quick picture attached with a few lines about what’s going on in his world. You’re not even sure besides keeping him updated on Duke when you’ve talked about your life if you told Calum about the impromptu trip to Vegas. Or if you told him about your promotion at work. 

Somehow all of that just seems so mundane and so not the thing he’d care to hear about until he calls. It’s an early morning for you. “I see your end of the globe hasn’t gone up in flames yet.”

You shake your head with a tuft of laughter. “No, it’s still thriving. Just adjusting to this new job.”

“You quit your old one? Do you need anything to tide you over?”

“No, no, just a new position.” You almost start to say that you had to have told him. But if he’s asking, if he’s concerned, then you must have forgotten.

“Tell me about it.” 

“My job is not exciting,” you call out, grabbing your clothes from inside the closet. 

“Doesn’t matter. Bore me with the details.” You do. Enough so that, when you’re finally dressed and sitting down to eat breakfast, you can see him with his eyes drooping. “Bored him literally to sleep,” you laugh. 

“I am not asleep,” he responds with a sleepy mumble. 

“Sure you’re not.”

A month into the tour, Calum works it to have you flown out. Calum’s greet you in the car from the airport, the two of you laughing, falling into each other’s side, but ultimately always shifting back into place, resting into the back of the seat instead of each other. Calum’s not phased, not when you run ahead up to the historic hotel. He’s not phased when you run ahead of him at the museums are long the streets during your visit. But he knows it’s killing you. When the bands backstage, and you stare out of the windows, he knows it’s killing you not to get out there. Not to see the country, the cities, the people. 

“Tomorrow we can go adventuring,” he tells you, leaning up against the wall as you’ve curled yourself up into the window sill. 

“You’ve got another show tomorrow.”

He just winks at you, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head. And then he’s gone, back to the sofa, laughing as someone shows him something on their phone. The guys fall instantly back into their chaos. You watch, knowing you could fall into it too. You know their antics and their sense of humor. But yet, you sit in the window sill. You watch the birds fly pass. You watch people wander. You hear the slight cry of fans waiting for them and you know this isn’t really meant for you. 

This isn’t something that would saitatee you in the long run. 

You find out later after the show and he’s had a chance for a quick shower, that in the wee hours of the morning, just eeking pass one, Calum and you wander through nightlife. Arm in arm, you meander down streets, up city blocks, stopping at storefronts just to oogle over their displays. The skies are a little clearer. You can stop, leaning up against some random fence to watch the stars for a little it.

“It’s weird to think that I’m watching some stars last breathe. Like we’re so close, but so far away from the heavens. And they really just go on forever,” you whisper. 

Calum hums, sliding his hands into the pocket of the hoodie draped over your body. His fingers wrap around yours in the pocket. “But it’s almost like they are giving us their last wish, maybe. Giving us one last guiding light.”

 It’s almost four am when you find yourselves back at the front doors of the hotel. You’re laughing at Calum’s slurred speech due to drowsiness. He’s going to regret this in the morning maybe and you can only hope that there’s a pot of coffee big enough to help. His slumber is heavy next to you. Your brain is wired. You can feel it buzzing in your fingertips. How do you tell Calum that you don’t want to lose him but maybe the romanticism between the two of you isn’t there anymore? Was it ever really there to begin with?

With three days left on this trip, you don’t say anything at first. How do you even verbalize that? What are the right words? You don’t sleep that night either. When Calum reaches out for you, his arm feels like hot steel. Like it’s burning you for feeling any different. On the second night, you slip further into the seats in the back of the bus--there’s no stopping at a hotel this time--, your blanket pulled up to your chin, nothing plays on the TV in front of you. You know you can’t avoid him. Not at a time like this. But you’re still not sure if you can mention is just yet, if you have the nerves to do it. 

The door slides open and Calum is there, leaning against the faux frame and his body moves with ease at the jostle of the bus. “Mind if I pop a seat next to you?”

“Of course not.” It’s an automatic reply. And really you don’t mind. But you can tell by the way he nods, biting his lips and settles next to you but not into you that he’s aware of something too. But you’re aware now you can’t duck out of this conversation. There’s no turning back now. 

“You say ‘of course’ a lot, you know?”

“Something tells me that now isn’t the right time to say ‘of course, I know’ so I’ll refrain from using it.” 

His laughter is a quick exhalation, facing the blank screen too. “Are you--” he starts and then stops. He fiddles with his thumb nail for a second and then turns, bringing one leg up under the other and his hoodie cladded arm rests on the back of the sofa. “If it’s not--I’m not sure if our relationship is what it was before.”

You exhale. Your shoulders straighten under the blanket and you shift, sitting to face Calum more. There’s no sadness. Not even the clench of his jaw which he does when he’s trying to hold something back, when he doesn’t want to say what’s fully on his mind. “I-I don’t think so either.”

He gives a thoughtful nod, resting a hand on your leg, over the fuzzy black fabric. “And it’s not that I don’t have love for you. Nothing has happened, like nothing you did or said, or anything bad but.”

“It’s just different between us.”  Different doesn’t feel quite whole, so you unfurl finally from the mass and out of habit, pick at the fuzz on the end of his sleeves. “Well, more like, I’ve realized maybe what we wanted wasn’t what we needed? If that makes sense?”

“It makes sense.” Calum watches your fingers, pinching and rolling at the small balls of cotton. “I-I won’t mind if you stay or go. I’d like you to stay. There’s the museum you always wanted to go to in our next city, but if it’s too weird or anything, I totally understand.”

You shake your head, gaze lifting to his. He’s still chewing over his lip but he looks mostly calm. The nerves are obvious but this conversation is going better than you could’ve anticipated. “I don’t feel pressured to leave at all. I just, do you need space? If you need me to go, I’ll take the next flight out. You’ve got a job to do and I don’t want you to be in a weird headspace with me around. And I would hate--,”

He cuts you off with a squeeze of your hand. “You’re rambling. And no, I don’t want you to leave. I haven’t properly seen you in a few weeks. I still really enjoy your company. But it’s just, not like before, you know. Besides, you still owe drinks from when I kicked your ass in skee ball.”

His grin is small at first but it grows when you flap, releasing your hand from his hold and fold your arms across your chest. “The way I remember it, you would owe drinks if I beat you. Not that I owed drinks for losing.” 

When Calum giggles, you have to laugh. In all the previous breakups, you know laughing immediately after shouldn’t be happening. But everything’s different with Calum. All along the two of you were shifting, settling into the version of the bond you needed with each other, not necessarily the prescribed one from society, or the one that you wanted. 

“Would you be, like, upset if I took a separate bunk?” you asks. 

“Of course not,” Calum returns with a grin. 

Honestly, you feel relieved waking up the next day, for the most part. It should be awkward, but there’s something between you and Calum. There’s something you both get about each other that even in the face of change this bond doesn’t feel broken. It feels mended, finally and completely free too. No guilts, no second thoughts and what you should be doing or what you think Calum expects of you. 

It definitely carries a small sting. There’s no lying, a small bit of your routine and your normal is now gone and that worries you for when you go back home. Like, is it still acceptable that you steal his Santa Cruz hoodie? And when Calum catches your gaze from the otherside of the dressing room, he wonders if he can still kiss your forehead, still hold your hand? Or is that crossing the line? He airs on the side of caution for now, just smiles at you and you smile in return. 

Just before leaving, you fold his hoodie up, placing it on his bunk next to the not fully folded blanket that reveals his iPad. 

When Calum goes to his bunk he sees the hoodie. His heart drops, he won’t lie. When he picks it up, it feels heavy. Not physically, but he kinda wanted you to keep it. Something crinkles. He unfurls it. Nothing falls out but he can hear something. So he continues until he finds the hoodie pocket. 

I know, I know. I wanted to give you this back. Just for the moment. We’re still good like we said before. But I know it’s your favorite right behind the Empathy one. Kick ass on stage. Rock out. 

Calum smiles, neatly folding the note and slips into his bag that he takes into the venues. When the months slip by, show after show mildly interrupted with Duke updates and occasionally things about yourself, Calum finally finds himself able to sit on his own couch. Kick his feet up on his own coffee table. He’s able to decompress. He decompresses enough to fall asleep. A knock at the door jolts him awake. Wiping at the corner of his eyes and his mouth, he jumps from his couch. 

“You were totally asleep,” you grin when the door swings open. 

“Was not,” he retorts. Duke bars from below, jumping at Calum’s leg. “Oh, bubba. How are you?” 

“Good, just missed his pops.” 

Collecting Duke into his arms, Calum stands. “How are you? How’s life?”

“I’m good. Life’s good.” You lift the bag on your arm. “I brought you a plate. Or maybe like four.”

“You--you didn’t have to,” Calum returns. “But of course you did anyway.”

“Of course I did,” you laugh. “Mind if I come in? You can just love on Duke. I’ll reheat the spaghetti.”

He nods, allowing you inside. It’s much more than a plate as you unload the dish and a few other sides. It’s enough for him to eat dinner for a week almost. You always fixed more than he could ever eat. “How’s the move going?” The last time the two of you talked you mentioned needing a new place. Something a little bit bigger to accommodate your needs and the potential of housing your own dog or cat. You’re not entirely sure right now.  

“It’s going slow. But it’s going. Trying to sort out what to toss.”

“I can help, if you want.” Calum watches as you set the plate down in front of him. “Be the voice of reason when you know you really should toss the thing, but can’t do it without a nudge.”

“Or be the nagging voice that tells me to keep it. You know how this goes.”

Calum nods, setting Duke in the seat. “I know.”

“What are you doing? Sit. Eat.”

Two scoops of spaghetti or heaped onto a second plate. You manage to keep Duke away from Calum’s food. The plate hits the table with a muted thud. “If it’s not too much too soon, eat with me? ”

“Of course.” 

“There it is again,” he laughs. 

“What? I’ll leave. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Whoa, slow down. Eat. Then you can huff and puff and blow my house down.”

With a click of your tongue, fork posed in hand, you watch Calum return to his seat. Duke in his lap, just like you knew would happen. “That sounds like a good idea.”

[saleintothe90s]

423. The Chevy Chase Show, September 9, 1993.

The other day, I ran across this video from YouTube user VideoDisorder that discussed the first episode of the Chevy Chase Show.  He hit all the same points I hit when I wrote my entry about Chevy’s extremely short lived talk show from 1993. I loved his video so much that … that I had to watch another episode of Chevy’s show. I just really have the craving to tear down another episode.

I’m watching night three of Chevy’s show, September 9, 1993 . I chose this one primarily because our boy, Harry Anderson from Night Court and Dave’s World was in it. 

Also, I had a dream a few weeks ago that Harry and I were community college students who were married and lived in the huge money pit house my parents and I moved into my senior year of high school. Seemed fitting.

The show opens with Chevy putting on a wig, which kinda makes him look like he did at the beginning of the Christmas Vacation movie. (Clip: youtube.com/watch?v=ozksR8QLWzM) Just me? ok.

Oh, but no, there’s a baby in it!  Harry’s gonna staple gun it on for Chevy.

Chevy still thinks it’s funny to fall and stumble into his opening … its night three, Chevy. Stop it. He also tries to make a basketball hoop just like he did on night one. Was that supposed to be a tradition? A reference to the Fletch movie? The modern equivalent to this would be on Good Mythical Morning when Rhett and Link do a tournament and Link always misses throwing away the bad food behind his back into the trash can. (Tiny print: man they’ve been doing that too much, but ANYWAY)

Chevy does a tour of the set, which he shoulda done the first night instead of that birthday cake bit with Goldie Hawn’s son. He shows off the aquarium….oh that reminds me of something I found last night!!  I went to see if I could find anything about the show on The Internet Archive (archive.org). I found this article from this small down paper about high schooler’s thoughts on the late night wars of 1993 1.

Chevy flubbed his lines through the entire segment. He said the guest book passport thing was there to ���Keep his guests from coming back” by accident. Tell us what you really feel, Chevy.  Someone in the audience even heckled him! 

Chevy: …they get some sort of prize..

Audience Member: LIKE WHAT?!

Chevy: The first prize would be trying to get you out of her in a fashion that wouldn’t be too exciting.

On your tenth visit (okay) you could get Michael Jackson in a can. Audience boos. This was a couple of weeks after the beginning of the claims that Michael had molested a boy.

Chevy then goes into a segment where he goes to a desk company to look for his desk. They got to visit the desk from Barbarians at the Gate! Something I’ve been meaning to watch for years. Tyre’s also dumb jokes about Chevy putting gum under a desk, and then retrieving it. The man at the desk warehouse said “ew”. He wasn’t playing, straight up “ew”.  I had to stop it at that point. Zzz city.

A dramatic recreation of Martin getting Nair put on by makeup ladies.

Martin Short is the first guest of the night. They sing a song from Three Amigos and its cute. Martin has a full head of fuzzy hair. It’s glorious. The interview is not. I caught myself reading the news on my phone during it. At one point, Martin says, “I will imagine my own death, and imagine people hearing the news.” Later on he discusses being in the movie Clifford and how he had Nair his legs, and he got the makeup crew to help him. Turns out he had his “little fella” hanging out of his underwear the whole time.

The News Update segment is awful. He tried to tell a joke about the rampant killings of tourists in Florida at the time:  

“The two white men in Florida who were charged [stumbles] on all accounts of setting black men on fire were convicted … that’s it… the two men could face two life terms, or a stiffer sentence of driving a rental car through Miami dressed as German tourists.”

(Crowd groans, someone in the audience even said, “NOPE!”)

He also calls Snoop Doggy Dogg, “SNOOPS Doggy Dog”.  How is he stumbling through everything like this.

On inhalant abuse, especially with aerosol deodorant:

“These are you underarms on drugs”

FINALLY, we get to Harry! This was right before Dave’s World started, where Harry played writer Dave Barry. Harry describes Dave’s books as “books you read on a plane”, and his newspaper column, “as something you read on the crapper”.

Why do I remember the bathroom from Dave’s World so well! I loved that house. 

“Was that your card?”

NO. They brought this stupid segment back from the first night. I don’t know what this even IS. It’s not funny, I know that. I read in Chevy’s biography by Rena Fruchter that these were all his faces. 2

“I love Harry Anderson, I love all of you. Goodnight.”

Facebook | Etsy | Retail History Blog | Twitter | |YouTube Playlist | Random Post | ko-fi donation | Instagram @ thelastvcr | other tumblr

“Late Night Battle Begins” Romulus Roman, September 26. 1993.  https://archive.org/details/Romulus091993/09-22-1993/page/n21/mode/2up

Fruchter, Rena. I’m Chevy Chase-- and You’re Not: The Authorized Biography. London: Virgin, 2007. 154.

Related:  Unearthing the Complete and Total Disaster That Was ‘The Chevy Chase Show’ By Roger Cormier 

[sacredlittlespace]

Love Language

A little high school AU where Aang is having trouble asking Katara to the homecoming dance. There’s a side plot of Sokka asking Suki to the dance, too! Hope ya like it.

Aang looked across the courtyard with intent. Katara was laughing currently, her head tipped back slightly and her smile wide. The sound came from her gut, and even though it wasn’t a cutesy laugh like some other girls had, it was still Aang’s favorite sound in the world. 

“You’re staring again.” Zuko’s even tone annoyed Aang for a reason he couldn’t place. He looked back at Zuko, who had a juice box hanging out of the side of his mouth, and frowned. 

“I can’t do this,” Aang said in frustration. 

“Of course you can! It’s just my dumb sister, it’s not like you have to ask out the toughest, smartest, most beautiful girl in the school,” Sokka added. 

Aang saw that Sokka’s gaze was set on where Suki was sat next to Katara a few tables away from their own. He knew that Sokka was also nervous to ask Suki to the dance, but to Aang, Katara was all of those things, and it terrified him. Especially since they’d been friends for years and nothing ever happened between them. Sure they shared a few moments that made Aang question if Katara did feel the same, like in middle school when they were playing spin the bottle at Suki’s birthday party and the bottle landed between Aang and Jet, Katara had chosen to kiss Aang even though technically the bottle was more pointing at Jet. But what if they were just really good friends? Aang could never tell. 

“Look, Katara is popular enough that if you don’t ask her soon someone else will. So you’d better make a move or forget about it,” Zuko said. He leaned back and tossed his empty juice box into a nearby trash can as if he was throwing a basketball into a hoop.

“Easy for you to say,” Aang grumbled. “You and Mai have been together since you were like twelve.”

“She still made me prompose, or whatever you call it for homecoming,” Zuko said, his even tone changing into one of concealed annoyance. 

“And the dance number was great, buddy,” Sokka said, leaning across the table to pat Zuko’s shoulder. “Now I have to top that with what I’m going to do for Suki.”

Aang could barely hear the conversation continue with Zuko asking Sokka what he had in mind. Instead, Aang was back to looking at Katara. She was so beautiful, sitting on the top of one of the outdoor tables, the sun hitting her at a perfect angle to make her hair shine but not make her face scrunch up from the brightness. Even though that would also be cute. Every time a guy stood up or walked near her table Aang’s heart would pound. He kept feeling like any second he’d lose his chance to ask her out. 

“...and that’s where the smoke bombs come in…” Sokka was saying, animatedly leaning towards Aang and Zuko, who looked beyond bored by whatever he was hearing. 

“I’ll be back,” Aang said, not even waiting to hear the rest before standing up. He adjusted his headband and ruffled up the hair that he was still getting used to. Nervous habits. Just start walking, he told himself, and he did. Like a robot he somehow made it to Katara’s table. When he did, the entire group of girls quieted down, and Aang noticed several of the girls smirking. Suddenly his mouth went dry and his palms turned into oceans. 

“Hey Aang,” Katara said softly. She looked at him with her head tilted in a way that made her gaze look like a mix between shy and sultry, and Aang felt his heart beat harder. “What’s up?”

“Hey - Katara,” Aang said, stammering on the words. The girls around them giggled and started whispering to each other before Suki shushed them. Aang’s hands started to shake. “Um, I was just wondering, um…” What are words?? Aang thought in a panic. How do sentences work again?? Oh God, I’ve been quiet for too long, I’m being weird, I have to say something -!

“Yeah?” Katara prompted, leaning closer to him. Her cheeks were turning a light pink, and Aang found himself unable to stop fixating on that detail. 

I’ve got to do this! Now is my only chance, Aang thought, clenching his fists and squaring his shoulders. “I...was wondering...do -”

The lunch bell rang. Suddenly all of the girls were standing up around Aang, pushing him slightly this way and that as they walked around him. Suki grabbed Katara’s arm, and quickly started leading her away. Aang stood still, his mouth still open with the rest of his words in his throat, ready to escape into an empty room.

Katara looked back at him after a few steps with an apologetic look. “Sorry Aang, let’s talk on our way home from school!”

“S-sure,” Aang said, even though he knew Katara was too far to hear. His face fell with disappointment. There were still four more periods left in the school day. There was no way Katara wouldn’t be asked out by then. 

A buzzing in his pocket made Aang focus on something other than the heavy pit in his stomach. When he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he saw that he’d gotten a text from Zuko in their group chat. “That’s rough buddy” was all it said, and then Sokka quickly sent a bunch of laughing emojis in response. 

Groaning, Aang shoved his phone back into his pocket and quickly walked back to his table to get his stuff. 

                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aang didn’t walk home with Katara and Sokka like he usually did. Sokka was off somewhere with Toph getting something ready for his homecoming promposal for Suki, and apparently it was Katara’s job to keep Suki occupied so she wouldn’t catch wind of any of this. So, Aang walked home alone. 

When Aang got to their house, he went straight to the kitchen. There was only one thing on his mind: comfort food. He grabbed a bag of his favorite spicy chips and sat down on the sofa like a bum. Spending the rest of the school day nursing his disappointment had made him somewhat numb. He was still snacking and mindlessly watching TV when Katara walked in a half hour later. 

“Hey, I’m home,” she said brightly. Aang just grunted a response, which made Katara’s face fall. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. How was distracting Suki?” Aang asked instead, still not looking at Katara and focusing instead on the TV in front of him and the pain in his mouth from eating too many spicy chips. He kept eating anyway. 

Katara huffed and threw herself onto the sofa next to Aang. She was just slightly closer to him than what would be considered normal, and Aang glanced at her out of the corner of his eye in response. “Exhausting! I’m sick of constantly keeping Suki away from Sokka. She already likes him, and she knows he likes her so it’s not like she DOESN’T know he’s going to ask her to the dance. He’s just being ridiculous and now I’m stuck in the middle of it.”

Aang nodded sympathetically. He knew Sokka was going overboard and was asking Katara for too much help. He was happy Sokka hadn’t asked him for anything - yet. “Did anyone prompose to you yet? Or do you know who’s going to?” Aang asked, his tone still even, concealing his hurt feelings. Seeing Katara with someone else...it would wound him like nothing else could. But what could he do?

Katara shook her head. “No one has promposed, thankfully. I would be so uncomfortable if anyone did. A couple guys have asked me to the dance through DMs, but I left them on read.”

Katara quickly looked away after speaking, her cheeks quickly turning dark pink. That piqued Aang’s interest. “How come?”

“Well…” Katara trailed off and paused before continuing. “I’m waiting to see if someone else asks me.”

“Who?” Aang asked, sitting up a little. Now he was curious. He wanted to know who would be the cause of the greatest hurt he would ever feel. 

“A...guy. He’s a friend, actually. A really good friend. But, I don’t know, I guess without realizing it I started to like him as more than that. Sometimes I think that he does, too, but then other times he seems like just a goofy kid who isn’t even interested in girls like that.” Katara sighed. “I guess I’ll just wait and see. If he doesn’t ask me, I don’t mind going alone.”

Aang wanted to offer to be a backup date, but decided that was super lame. Instead he asked, “So if he does ask you, how would you want him to? Since you don’t want a huge promposal.”

Katara’s eyes lit up with an emotion Aang didn’t recognize. Her face softened around a small smile and she dropped her gaze to the sofa cushion, busying herself with picking at some tiny balls of lint. “Well, it’s a school dance so it’s totally not important. But, if I could choose, I would want something small, private, and meaningful. Something that only the two of us could share.”

Katara looked up at Aang as she said the last sentence, and his breath caught audibly, making him slightly embarrassed after the shock of the moment wore off. He looked away, and decided not to think anything of it. It was just a coincidence. He couldn’t find it in him to form an actual response, so he just nodded, eyes focused on the TV.

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Aang couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying those moments with Katara in his mind, and fantasizing about the possibility of her actually talking about him when she said all of those things. Aang didn’t want to let himself hope too much, but he did have a nagging feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away. He felt it physically pull him out of bed, and before he knew it he was sitting at his desk, fiddling with a necklace he’d made Katara but never gave to her. Without thinking, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper and started writing. 

Dear Katara,

Remember that time you, me, and Sokka went fishing, but I stole the string off his fishing rod and he got so mad that he accidentally fell off the dock and into the lake? Haha, that was such a good time. It’s still funny. Anyway, Sokka was super upset because he thought I just took it to weave a random knot pattern, but it was more than that. Around that time, you’d lost your mother’s necklace, so I actually wove you one to hold its place until you found it again. But, that night your dad came home with the necklace, and I never gave you this one. But, I still want you to have it. The thing is, I always think about you, everything reminds me of you in some way or another. Like that string on the fishing rod, it made me think of you immediately and I took it without thinking. Honestly, I would do anything for you without a second thought. I’d even give my life. Maybe that’s weird, I don’t know. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I like you. I know you’re hoping some guy asks you to the dance, and he probably will because he’d be a special kind of stupid if he didn’t. But if he does turn out to be a special kind of stupid, I hope you’d accept my offer and go to the dance with me instead. I hope this isn’t super lame. I kind of feel super lame after writing this. Anyway, I hope you like the necklace. 

Aang

A sigh escaped his lips as he read over the letter. It was super lame, but since he already wrote it, he decided to give it to Katara anyway. Before he folded the paper, he remembered something, and started looking through his books until he found what he needed. A pressed flower. 

It was in the early days, shortly after Aang’s adopted family was killed and Katara’s father took him in. Aang would get sad often, but thought he did a good job of hiding it. Apparently not, though. Katara had found him on one of his lonely walks and fell into step next to him, not saying a word. There was a tree at the edge of their backyard, and Katara stopped under it, making Aang stop too. She told him that she thought it was fate that she found him unconscious in an alley next to his old home, and that he belonged with her, and her family. Then she looked up at the flowers blooming from the tree above them, and in the wind, one fell down and caressed her face before falling onto the ground in front of Aang. He’d picked it up, intending to keep the flower as a reminder of where his new home was: with Katara.

In the present moment, he moved the flower carefully from the book it was pressed into to the letter he’d just written, and folded the paper over it, keeping the flower safe. Then he quietly left his room and walked down the hall to Katara’s room. He stopped outside the closed door and took a deep, silent breath before bending down and carefully leaving the letter and necklace on the floor beside her door. As he walked back to his room, Aang could only wonder how tomorrow would go. 

                                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Aang woke up the next morning, he was filled with regret. Why would he write her a letter? Who does that anymore? I’m so stupid, he thought to himself, jumping out of bed to grab the letter before Katara found it, but he was too late. The letter was gone. 

Panic. Aang didn’t know what to do now, frozen in the hallway just staring at the empty space where his pathetic letter used to be. It was five thirty, so an hour before anyone else would be awake. Aang decided to get ready and leave before everyone else. It would be easy to avoid Katara in school, not so much when they were in the same house together. 

After a quick shower and blindly getting dressed, Aang all but ran out of the house. In fact, once he was outside, he broke out into an all out sprint. The doors to the school building didn’t open to students before seven thirty, but Aang knew a place that was always open to him. 

“Aang, nice to see you so early,” Roku said, smiling. He opened his front door wider, allowing Aang to come in. Even though Roku was Zuko’s great grandfather, he’d always had a special bond with Aang. It’s like the two could always talk about anything and always understand each other on a deeper level. 

Roku placed a cup of hot tea in front of Aang. They sat in silence at Roku’s kitchen table for a long moment. Finally, Aang broke the silence. 

“Roku, I did something really stupid,” he said, his face pulling into an anguished frown. 

“Illegal stupid, or normal stupid? I can only help you with one. Kyoshi could probably help you with the other. She killed a man once.”

“Ugh,” Aang groaned in frustration. “Enough about that. Just normal stupid. I wrote a letter to Katara confessing my feelings for her but now I regret it and it’s too late. What do I do??”

“Ah.” Roku looked away from Aang and took a long sip from his tea. “Did I ever tell you how I managed to get my wife?”

“Yeah,” Aang nodded. “You were a total loser but she liked you anyway.”

Roku laughed. “Something like that. Love gets easier as you grow older. You learn what’s important and what isn’t. When you’re young, the surface, the appearance of it matters so much. You say things and think, ‘oh, why am I so stupid! Why did I say that and not this??’ When you get older, you learn that with the right person, there’s never a wrong way to say how you feel. They speak your love language fluently, and accept your awkwardness and vulnerability.”

“But how do I know she’s the right person? What if she doesn’t speak my...language of love,” Aang said, forgetting exactly how Roku had phrased it and making up the closest thing he could on the spot. His brows were pulled together so tightly that his forehead actually started hurting. 

“You will know when you find the right person,” Roku said. He watched Aang while he sipped his tea. “Listen Aang. There is no shame in expressing how you feel. We feel things for the exact reason to express them. Your feelings will guide you to the right path; when something fills you with anxiety, you know that’s your spirit telling you that path isn’t for you. When something brings you happiness, you know that’s your spirit telling you that whatever it is that makes you happy is bringing you closer to your authentic self. And when you feel peace, that’s your spirit finding its home. If you don’t accept and express your feelings, you will only become lost. You like this girl, you told her; her response will lead you to your correct path.”

“What if she rejects me?” Aang asked softly. 

Roku put his tea down, and looked Aang straight in the eye. “Then you’ll get closer to who you need to be with.”

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~

While at school it was easy to avoid Katara. She was a year above him in school, so they had no classes together. And usually they didn’t sit anywhere near each other at lunch; that was Katara’s girl time. That started when Suki wanted to talk to Katara about Sokka alone, and then it just stayed that way. Aang skipped lunch today just to be safe. 

Roku’s words kept going around and around in his mind the whole day. The right person. Who you need to be with. Whenever he thought about those things, all he saw was Katara. If she rejected him, he’d be totally lost. 

Maybe she would reject him quietly. Or maybe she would pretend the letter never happened and spare him. Aang was hoping for the latter when he got home, knowing he couldn’t avoid Katara forever. 

“Aang?”

He’d barely entered the home before Katara called his name. “Yeah,” he called back, busying himself with taking off his shoes before entering the house. His voice had cracked slightly with nerves, and Aang cleared his throat, hoping she didn’t notice. 

“Can we talk?”

When Aang turned around to walk into the living room, the first thing he noticed was the woven necklace around Katara’s neck. His heart started pounding immediately, but then he looked up and saw Katara’s upset face and his entire body went cold. 

“Where were you today? You left early, I didn’t see you at school, and then you weren’t around after school either.”

Aang looked to the side and started playing with his hair nervously. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep last night, and then Roku asked me to come by this afternoon and help him with some housework. I guess I should have told you and Sokka I would be home later.”

Katara’s face softened. “I couldn’t sleep last night either,” she said, delicately touching the necklace she was wearing. Aang swallowed so hard he swore Katara could hear it. Her face fell back into a frown, and then she said, “Why doesn’t Zuko help him, he’s actually related to him.”

Aang laughed nervously and shrugged. “They have a complicated history. Plus I enjoy spending time with Roku.”

Katara hummed softly in response, and looked away. Her cheeks were turning pink again, and she started nervously playing with her necklace. Aang remembered what Roku had told him, and tucked his fear away for now. Either way, he would come out of this closer to where and who he needed to be. 

“I see you’re wearing the necklace I made you, I hope that means you like it,” Aang said. He figured he’d step up and approach the situation head on. He was the one who wrote the letter, he had to be ready for a response. 

“I love it, it’s beautiful,” Katara said, smiling at the ground. “And that flower...it was from that day…”

Aang scrunched up his mouth with nerves and started playing with his hair again. “Yeah...you’d said if someone asked you to the dance you’d want it to be meaningful and something only the two of you could share. I figured that was a good choice. I know I’m only a backup date, but I still wanted to do that for you.”

Instantly Aang regretted saying that. He didn’t want to be the backup date, he wanted to be her first choice and he should have fought for it. He worked up the courage to look back at Katara and found that she was already looking at him. 

“You know, you really are a special kind of stupid,” she said, smirking. 

Aang’s face twisted. “Huh?”

Katara took two steps towards him and smiled. “You’re the one I wanted to ask me to the dance. Suki and I were actually planning a way for me to ask you. I’m glad it happened this way, though.”

“Uh, what,” Aang said, blinking. He felt like Katara was speaking another language. Like he could hear sounds coming out of her mouth, but not words. 

Rolling her eyes, Katara closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped her arms around Aang’s shoulders, letting her hands cradle the back of his head. “I like you, too, Aang. Everything you said in the letter, I feel the same. It’s more than the dance, too. I,” she said, ducking her head a little, her cheeks bright pink, “I want to be with you, Aang.”

He didn’t know how to respond. The best possible outcome just happened, and he felt his soul leave his body anime style. He felt like fainting, but instead he leaned forward and kissed Katara. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her even closer to him, something he’d always wanted to do, and they stayed that way for a long moment. 

Suddenly the front door burst open, and Sokka walked in, lower lip trembling, eyes filled with tears. Katara and Aang jumped away from each other, not sure if they wanted Sokka to know just yet. 

“Sokka?” Katara asked, clearly concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“It was a disaster,” he wailed. Sokka started ticking things off his fingers as he spoke. “The hot air balloon canceled, the acapella group ended up just being one guy who weirdly smelled like pickles and couldn’t even sing - he did have an impressive range of armpit fart sounds, but that’s besides the point! All of the letters I wrote her to be delivered before each class ended up getting sent to some girl named Zuki instead?? And the scavenger hunt clues didn’t match where Zuko actually hid anything. And we didn’t even get to the second part of the promposal yet! The smoke bombs were duds - or so I thought until they went off five minutes later and basically suffocated me -”

“Sokka, stop! We get it, this super over the top, way too many ideas mashed into one promposal didn’t work. Now skip to the part where Suki reacted; what did she say??” Katara asked, and Aang leaned forward too, just as interested to hear. 

“I don’t know!” Sokka said, throwing his hands up. He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I was so humiliated I just ran home. Suki will never want to see me again, I’m a failure!” Sokka was just about sobbing now, but then the doorbell rang, interrupting him. He paused and frowned, turning towards the door. “If this is that weird acapella guy, I’m not paying him.” Sokka angrily swung the door open, and his face instantly lit up. “Suki!”

Aang moved a little so that he could see Suki, who was standing in the doorway with roses in her arms, amongst several bags. She was beaming right back at Sokka. 

“Hey Sokka. Zuki gave me all of your letters, and the roses, and Zuko gave me all of the gifts you got me. Someone from a hot air balloon company gave me a free ride coupon, too. Oh, and some guy who smelled like pickles performed the Ave Maria with armpit fart sounds?” Sokka’s face fell and he dropped his face into his hand. Suki just laughed. “But I also saw the dance performance you came up with, or at least the backup dancers. They said it wasn’t the same without you, and the lyrics you wrote for me, but they ended up giving me the lyric sheet and I loved it. I don’t know what else you had planned, but it was all amazing Sokka.”

“Wait. Wait here. There’s one more thing.”

Suki’s face fell a little, and she tried to stop him. “No, Sokka, I -”

“No, seriously, I’ll be right back.” Sokka’s sincere voice convinced Suki, who just smiled adoringly at him and nodded. 

Aang looked at Katara after Sokka ran up the steps, but she just shrugged. Aang guessed Katara didn’t know this last part of the plan either. Only a moment later, Sokka was running back down the steps. He approached Suki with a teddy bear in his hands. It was wearing a shirt with a picture of Sokka and Suki printed on it, and tucked into little straps on its hands was a little case. 

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at Suki with a blush on his cheeks. “This was how I was going to originally ask you. There’s a flash drive inside the case of songs I picked out for you. The lyrics of the songs spelled out a message you were supposed to decode, asking you to the dance, and...to be my girlfriend. 

“But once I saw Zuko’s promposal to Mai - who’s already his girlfriend - I panicked. Especially since it’s you. I thought this wouldn’t be enough. But now I see I kind of went way too hard on the promposal. I’m sorry.”

Suki dropped everything in her arms and jumped towards Sokka, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him. Aang looked away, feeling embarrassed for some reason, and saw Katara do the same. They shared a look and giggled, both happy that Sokka hadn’t seen their kiss moment. 

“Sokka, everything you did was so romantic. I love how passionate you are about things that matter to you, and I love that I’m one of the things that matters to you. I would want nothing less than to go to the dance with you as your girlfriend.” Suki’s smile was wider than Aang had ever seen it, and the only thing that distracted him from it was Sokka’s knees buckling and him fainting to the ground. 

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aang looked across the hall with intent. There Katara was at their table, laughing and talking with Suki and Mai. Aang smiled at her, even though he didn’t know what was making her smile, he just loved to see it. 

“You’re staring again,” Zuko teased. He filled up a plate of desserts for both him and Mai, and on the other side of him Sokka was doing the same. 

“Yeah, at my girlfriend,” Aang said, and couldn’t help the little laugh that followed. The words still made butterflies erupt into flight in his stomach. His girlfriend. How would life ever get better than this?

“I still can’t believe Suki said yes to being my girlfriend,” Sokka said, turning around to gaze at the table of girls. 

“I still can’t believe you fainted when she did,” Zuko said, his voice back to its even tone. 

Sokka frowned. “I had low blood sugar! I hadn’t eaten all day because I was working to get everything ready and -”

“Yeah yeah,” Zuko said, waving a hand towards Sokka. It was nothing they all hadn’t heard before. “Let’s just get back before Mai turns into a dragon and bites my head off for taking too long to get desserts.”

Aang quickly finished filling his plate with fruits, but grabbed a few pastries last minute in case Katara wanted those too. When they got back to their table, Katara immediately started eating the fruit off of Aang’s plate. 

“Thanks for getting me fruit,” she whispered to him. “I’ve been dying for them all night, but forgot to tell you to grab some when you got up. You just read my mind.”

“I do what I can,” Aang smiled, watching Katara fit so many pieces of pineapple into her mouth that she looked like a chipmunk. Then he brushed her long wavy hair off of her shoulder toward her back, letting his fingers brush the necklace he’d made Katara that she still hadn’t taken off. “I can make you a better one,” he said, looking at the cheap string it was made out of. It was all he had at the time, but she deserved better.

“I already love this one,” she said, shaking her head. 

“I love you,” Aang said automatically. Once he realized what he’d said, his smile dropped and his eyes widened. He’d said it without even thinking, and now he was afraid he’d scared Katara off for good. 

For a moment Katara’s eyes widened too, but then her face softened into a dreamy smile, and she leaned forward, pressing a kiss onto Aang’s lips. She tasted like pineapples, but that wasn’t the reason Aang had a hard time pulling away.

“I love you, too.”

[vraelgard]

Every year in summer, the citizens of Vraelgard celebrate the solstice, fine weather, and blessings granted to them by the Sages. The entire country becomes adorned with brightly colored decorations. Many homes and businesses display large banners inscribed with wishes the creators pray for the Sages to fulfill: wishes of hope, peace, love -- and some who long for more material things, such as fame or fortune. Regardless of their desires, it becomes obvious that a festival is in progress simply by viewing the decorations and the excited atmosphere. Even the most taciturn citizens seem to brighten as the festival comes near. These festivities aren’t open for just natives to Vraelgard; those from other worlds and different countries are welcomed to participate with open arms. It’s the perfect opportunity for those foreigners to try cuisine unique to Vraelgard and engage in local customs. The celebration lasts two weeks and is filled with music, performances, games, and food stands. It may even be a chance for commoners to interact more closely with the nobles. After all, even Princess Lilliana takes time out of her day to thank the Sages with a festival.

                  GENERAL INFO

Welcome to a (mini) event! While this doesn’t have a huge impact on our group plot itself, we thought the end of summer would be a perfect time to celebrate the life that the members have given to Vraelgard. We hope you enjoy these fun times! Below are some locations that have some fun activities you can do. Of course, this doesn’t encompass everything that Vraelgard has to offer for this festival, but it’s a good baseline to start if you need something to get the ideas going! 

As a general note, this event will count towards your rank-ups. However, we are establishing some minimal requirements for it! You will need to post one paragraph length post, two mini posts, OR a 300 word drabble. While we definitely encourage you to write more, that’s what you need to count for an event rank-up. Please remember to note this on your threads page!

We hope you enjoy and have fun!

                   TERRA

TEMPLE OF THE DIVINE

Though cheery music magically plays throughout the entirety of the lands, the Temple of the Divine has placed forth some sort of stage for professional performers. Any and all acts are available, ranging from singing, dancing, comedy, plays, and much more. Even the new citizens of Terra would be allowed to sign up for a performance, though they would need to register beforehand and specify what sort of act they would do. Some acts may be good; some are not. But nonetheless, the crowd enjoys whatever is performed, genuinely or not.

For performances that exceed expectations, flower petals seem to blow through the area, though one isn't sure where it comes from.

GENERAL: NORTHERN SECTOR

Supplied by Fantasy Costco-Denny's, the Northern sector seems to be where a large portion of the meals are kept. Lines and lines of merchants, all eager to sell whatever secret family recipe they have, decorate the roads in aisles. If you're looking for a specific kind of food, changes are that there'll be a vendor somewhere to provide it. The types can range from full meals like noodles or rice, to snacks like candied apples and skewers. The trash bins all placed around the area never seem to fill, and there is a nice sign attached to the side that shows the Magic Quarter has provided these to ensure cleanliness of the land.

THE CHANTERELLE CLUB

For those who have a more refined and sophisticated taste, The Chanterelle Club is offering a special discount for those who both order a drink and play the various bar games. Whether you enjoy darts, pool, or even the singular and mismatched table of air hockey somehow dragged in, there seems to be an ever-eager amount of people willing to indulge in a game while tasting the finest wines. The air hockey table, however, only has the frat kids with fruity cocktails. You guess they must be paying a lot of money to be here.

If you're lucky enough to receive an invite, perhaps you can even take a step in the mysterious nightclub that lingers underneath. There's a special festival raid with glowing merchandise you can purchase, though the rave itself seems mostly unchanged from its normal service. You think there might be a remix of some of the festival music, but you can't put your finger on the artist.

KESTER PARK

At Kester Park, decorations are strewn about in a colorful display of pinwheels, flags, and whatever suits the merchant's needs. Here, vendors of miscellaneous items are sold. Small trinkets and toys are widely available, including small fans, figures of the sages, and whatever handheld toy a child (and perhaps some adults) could enjoy. Plastic weapons for pretend fighting? Paper umbrellas to shield you from the shade? Bubble machines and balloon animals? They seem to have it all! There also seems to be small firecrackers sold along with bins marked clearly for disposal. We ask that you please do not litter our parks!

On occasion, larger firework shows will occur and blossom in the skies. They're in various colors and sizes; sometimes even the shapes tend to look like various figures of the ruling noble council. The end, of course, is always a dazzling pink display of a figure that resembles the Princess.

GENERAL: SOUTHERN SECTOR

Whereas the Northern Sector focuses more on foods, the Southern Sector has their sights set on fun games and prizes. Throughout the lands here, there are a variety of common festival games you can partake in: things like Aqua's Aim where you try to fill a balloon with water to pop it, or throwing rings around jars to receive whatever fun rewards are inside. If you can think of the game you want, then they surely have it! The prizes are mainly small trinkets or plushies of all sizes, but in truth, aren't these games more to display one's skill anyways? Perhaps you could show off to that person you've been eyeing for quite some time!

There are also games to catch small aquatic animals like goldfish or small turtles in a pool, but strangely, they turn to a crystalline figure when you successfully reel one in. They float in the air and no longer seem to be real, but they bounce around and somehow follow you. You see these are quite popular with the children.

Oh, and there's a game, of course, to dunk Rook into a pool. You just have to throw the bean bag at the target hard enough!

PEARL PARK

Because Pearl Park is a larger domain for outdoor activities, there are certain activities all segmented. There's water gun fights, paintball fights, and even laser tag! If you prefer to indulge in exercise more than just perusing around, then this is the place for you! Despite no borders separating the activities except for simple stanchions, you notice that missed shots never seem to disrupt the other locations. It's quite fascinating.

There are even segments for sports fans if you wish! Want to play basketball? There are cobblestone flooring and makeshift baskets to resemble a hoop. Soccer? A small field has been marked. Same for football. There are various vendors around who rent equipment for those who are not prepared, including changing stations for more comfortable athletic wear.

                   BLACKGROVE

GENERAL

Blackgrove is dedicated towards skygazing and wandering merriment. The haze that plagues Terra seems to lessen here, and though you would be unable to peer into other locations, the sky shines beautifully and illuminates the enchanting forest in a subtle but mystical aura. There are miscellaneous food providers that stay upon the edge of the forest, though albeit pricier as they provide a large lunchbox for you to take. Most who enter the forest during this festival do so with the intention of a picnic or perhaps a thrilling game of hide and seek among the trees. There are markers throughout the forest to help guide lost travelers, though those who wander too deep find themselves returning to the beginning nonetheless. A strange turn of events, indeed.

CIEMNICA COMMUNE

If you find yourselves in the forest and come across white-barked trees, you are in luck to be in the presence of Witches of Darkness. Here, they sell small trinkets and furniture for you to bring along your picnicking. Perhaps you are in need of a blanket to lie upon, or perhaps you've come to seek their cushions? Rumors have stated that their quilts are imbued with magic and can even fly, though that has yet to be confirmed by the witches. They merely smile at the question.

FANTASY 7/11

Adventurers who partook in the battles to restore Sage Tenebrae's domain, do you feel courageous to enter this store? Words are that there lurks an eldritch abomination who surveys the nearby lands for a brawl. Strangely enough, it does not seem like it has any intent to kill, but it surely will not hold back if you wish to use the full extent of your prowess. Perhaps, if you find yourselves bored of meaningless wandering, you could enter the arena for a little exercise.

[ripley-triton]

puckley | shall we...?

pairing - ripley triton & puck sherman ( @pucksherman )

time - during winter break

setting - a christmas party

summary - ripley and puck get drunk at a party, play games and discover mistletoe hanging above them. 

puck:

It was the happiest season of all, at least after as many drinks as Puck had it was. He was just getting to that buzzing feeling in the back of his skull, and man. Was it great. The party hadn’t been all that bad, either. Even if it was filled with less environmentally conscious people that were leaving their red Solo cups lying around. Sober Puck would have gone around and cleaned them up, but he was neither sober, nor the host so the task went ignored -- at least for the time being. Later on he’d probably pick up what he could find, but at the moment all he cared about finding was his friends. Well, that and maybe another cup of rum and coke, and luckily he didn’t have to go far to find that one. Finding his way into the kitchen, he found a mostly full can of cola that still had fizz which he figured was still alright and emptied it into his cup. The rum wasn’t too far behind and he generously added that to his drink. Now all that was left was to find a friendly face. “Ripley!” Puck held his drink up a bit so as to avoid spilling it as he moved through the crowd. “Rip! C’mere! I made you something!”

ripley:

Ripley was ready for a party. She had to go home soon and she wasn't ready to get drowned out by the swarm of her family. So before was going to leave she was going to have as much fun as she could, naturally. Though the mess everyone was making couldn't go unnoticed. Ripley held her own cup filled with beer, the stuff was gross but that was never the point of drinking, right? She sipped on it as she tilted over to pick up some of the trash she  found on the ground, stumbling a little, but she managed! Pulling the drink back to her lips she held onto the cup with her mouth while she threw the trash away when she heard her name being called from across the room. Her head lifted up, seeing her friend approaching her. She grabbed the cup and smiled as she walked over to him. "Puck!" She exclaimed excitedly. She loved her friends insanely and was so thrilled to see him there. "What's up?"

puck:

Of course she was picking up the trash -- she was so much better than him, even in her inebriated state she was making the world a better place. Puck honestly thought the world was better just because she was in it, she didn’t even need to try cleaning it up to accomplish that. And her smile always made him smile, although at the moment it was a slightly goofy one as they met in the middle. “I made this for you,” he said proudly, beaming from ear to ear. Until he noticed the drink in her hand. But then! A brilliant idea! “Oh, you already got a drink. Here! Let’s trade!” Puck didn’t even wait for permission, just pushed the drink he brought into her hand, and with his other he took the other up out of her grasp. “So whatcha doin’?” What she was doing had been obvious, trying to clean up after the filthy party-goers. But that didn’t stop him from asking and immediately offering his services. “Need some help? There’s a lot of cups on the ground.”

ripley:

Just like that the entire mood of hers for the night shifted. She was with her best friend and she always had a good time with him. It never failed no matter what they were doing. She embraced him briefly with a kiss to his cheek before she pulled away. Ripley had always been super touchy and close with all of her friends, probably coming from such a large family with no personal boundaries. "oh, sweet!" She exclaimed when he showed her his surprise for her. Then suddenly her drink was being taken from her hand and his drink was being put in her other. Without missing a beat, the cup was already tilted back as she took a swig of the contents from in the cup. Squeezing her eyes tight from the warm burn down her throat, then shaking her head to bring her back to the conversation. "Yes! These people are absolutely careless. They're just leaving the damn things everywhere!" Her eyes rolled as she crouched down to pick up a few that were tossed randomly by the drunk party-goers.

puck:

Puck was very much used to the affection that Ripley tended to show to both him and Beau; but tonight, and probably because of the booze, it hit different and he couldn’t stop the grin on his face from becoming more idiotic and lopsided as he backed away from her embrace. He went to take a drink from his newly acquired cup when she tipped hers back, although instead of enjoying it he nearly gagged at the sudden switch from liquor to beer. “Woah,” he coughed, “You’d think they’d spring for a better tasting beer at least.” But the quality of beer wasn’t the important part -- cleaning up was. Puck absolutely agreed that the other party-goers were careless; he hadn’t seen that much garbage in one place since he looked up the Great Pacific garbage patch. “Maybe we can make it more fun, like make a game out of it. Oh, you know what? How about for every time we toss a cup into the basket,” he held up the cup containing beer that he’d gotten in the switch, “We take a shot.”

ripley:

A lingering thought trailed Ripley's mind before it was very quickly lost right after she'd planted the kiss on Puck's cheek. Thinking while getting drunk was not an easy task. Especially while being half concerned with the growing number of trash that was being littered as the night carried on. Her head shook at Puck's comment about the beer. The taste is awful, worse than the liquor, but it was her go to drink. "I'm not surprised. They're very clearly not thoughtful." She could feel the the effects of the alcohol slowly creeping in. She'd stood and held the cups she picked up from the ground, nodding her head to his idea. It'd be a good way help keep their fun going while also cleaning up. "hell yeah! That's an awesome idea." she looked around to find a good distance from the trash for them to shoot from. "Hmmmm about here?" Ripley took one last guage of the place before she looked at Puck for his approval.

puck:

“Good as a spot as any,” Puck replied, although he hadn’t really taken the time to scope out the area to really know that. He was really just going along with anything Ripley said, and if she thought the spot was good he would trust her judgement. “I know usually it’s ladies first, but…” he drew out the word as he got their “hoop” ready and raced back to stand next to her. “I’m totally taking it. Sorry, Rip.” Puck was no sports star, but he wasn’t half bad at basketball; the chance to show off his skills was enticing to him. Well, that and the fact that he couldn’t keep drinking if he didn’t make the shot. Bending his knees slightly, he pulled his hands back and gently tossed a cup towards the trash can. Usually he wouldn’t be surprised if he got it in, but in his slightly inebriated state it was a little bit of a shock to see the cup tip in -- even if it was just barely. That didn’t stop Puck from striking a victory pose, pumping his fist in the air before taking his drink. “Hell yeah, that’s how it’s done!”

ripley:

Once the spot was designated, Ripley's attention was torn to look for more cups surrounding them. It wasn't hard to find any, party-goers were tragically unbothered by the mess they're leaving behind for no one to pick up. She grabbed a few while Puck was setting up their basket, putting them on a counter next to them. "Whatever, you can take first shot. But I'm still gonna totally crush you." She laughed as she rested against the frame of the doorway, watching him take his first shot. She nearly took a drink from her own cup before remembering the rules. She needs a shot to win but she wasn't so much worried about that. Ripley considered herself to be quite athletic, but she was pretty tipsy. "Oh shit!" She cheered when Puck made his basket. Her cup raising, "Okay okay, nice first shot. Buuuut it's my turn." Grabbing one of the trash cups she stands back and gauges the distance then taking a shot to the trash can, it bouncing off the back rim and dropping inside. She turns, flipping her hair for 'style points'. Her hand reached to lift her own cup to take a swig of her liquor. "Can't wait to get fucked up."

puck:

“Okay, okay,” Puck rolled his eyes playfully as she tossed her hair back, giving her a slow and sarcastic round of applause. “We get it, you’re amazing. No need to flaunt it.” Although that “flaunting” was the exact same confidence he loved about Ripley. Never had he met someone that exuded so much confidence in themselves; and as confident as he tended to be, he knew he wasn’t nearly on her level and he aspired to be. “Okay, Miss Alcoholic, chill out. You’ll get a drink soon enough. But for now, time for the master to take his shot.” He took a moment to line up his shot and then tossed the cup, praying that it made it’s way in. It bounced off the edge, and for a moment he was sure it was going to drop into the trash can… but instead it fell the opposite way and back to the floor. “Dammit!” Puck groaned, raking his fingers through his hair before resting his hands at the nape of his neck and letting his head fall back. And that was when he saw it. “Uh, Rip? You notice that there before? You see it, right? Or am I just so drunk that I’m hallucinating?”

ripley:

"You're right, I am amazing." Ripley laughed, holding her hand under her chin as she looked at Puck. Her eyes batting for an added effect, she was now being extra on purpose just to tease him. "Too bad I didn't hear you say anything else after that." Her comebacks were being sullied by the effect of the alcohol in her system, the thought processing not turning as creatively. She loved messing with her friends, especially Puck. He always made her laugh. It was one of her favorite things about him, aside for how he cares so much about.... well everything really. She rolled her eyes at his comment, calling her an alcoholic. "yeah yeah yeah, go ahead 'master'" She stood next to him, leaning into the doorframe while she watched him take his shot. "oh no, the master struck out!" she raised her hands up in surprise after watching the cup fall onto the ground. She was just about to go get the cup when he called her name. "Seen what?" Following the trail of where he was looking, she was able to see the mistletoe hanging above them. Had they been under that the whole time? "Hallucinating mistletoe would invite its own questions. But nope, I see it too." She paused for a second and maybe it was the alcohol or just the tradition that shouldn't go ignored. Her shoulders shrugged for a second before her arms crossed over her chest. "So... should we do it?" The question meant to come off as nonchalant, but she honestly couldn't tell if that's how it came out. Now that the opportunity was presenting itself, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

puck:

Puck almost missed the question he was so entranced by the plant hanging above them. It registered after a moment, and he couldn’t help the slightly lopsided smirk that crossed his face. Almost as if he was replying with an “obviously” although he gave no verbal response. At first anyway. It wasn’t until he’d seen the look on her face that he rethought his answer. He’d only been about to say ‘yes’ because of the silly tradition; after all, what was one silly, stupid kiss between friends. But the expression she wore, one he couldn’t read, threw him for a loop. What was she trying to say? That she hated the thought? He wouldn’t blame her if that was the case, honestly. It was a tedious line to cross, one that could ruin their entire relationship. He hated that thought too. Ripley meant the world to him, if their friendship ended over a silly, stupid tradition he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. But he couldn’t help but wonder, ‘what if it didn’t ruin it though?’ His mind then flashed to the missing part of their trio -- if it didn’t ruin his and Ripley’s relationship, what would that mean for Beau? Would he think himself a third wheel? ‘This is entirely too much overthinking,’ Puck thought, shaking his head to stop himself from going further. It was just a stupid kiss, one they didn’t even have to share. Unless… did Ripley want to and that was what the look meant? Great. *More *overthinking. It made his head hurt, but that could be blamed on the many, many drinks he’d had. Besides, he knew there was only one way to stop the questions, and that was to ask one of them. “Uh, do you want to?”

ripley:

Ripley then took a second to think. Puck had seemed a little hesitant and the drunken buzz she was feeling was slowly going away. Not significant enough, but enough to turn on the thinking portion of her brain. She hadn't considering anything before she'd said the words. Of course she wanted to. Kissing Puck, it'd be just so easy for them to kiss right now. But the hesitancy, did that mean he didn't want to? Did she go too far? Ripley tended to go to far with things. She's an action person. Do now, think later. He was her rock in that way. Many of her thoughts kept bringing her back to the same place. "I do." she nodded her head a little, softly chewing on her bottom lip, a worried eyebrow raising as she watched for his expressions. the space between them shortening subconsciously. "do you want to?"

puck:

Her answer left him floored. Ripley really wanted to kiss him? That was something Puck hadn't been expecting to hear, nor had he expected the light fluttery feeling in his chest when she gave that answer. He’d thought about it sure, with a girl as cool and fun (not to mention as gorgeous) as Ripley, how could you not think about that sort of thing? But their friendship had always been the most important thing to him, so he tried to keep those thoughts at a minimum. Tonight though, it was hard to keep them at bay. Especially when she was inching closer to him. Puck had never been a nervous person, but he could feel them starting to make themselves at home as he followed her lead and took his own small step forward. Drawing in a short breath, he gave a nod as he answered, “Yeah.”

ripley:

Maybe it was the drinks that stayed swirling in her system or maybe it was the fact that he'd just said he wanted to kiss her. Either way Ripley felt a palpation in her chest. He was standing so close to him she could touch him without much of any effort. The few thoughts that floated through her head coming to a quick stop as she braced herself to lean fully into the kiss. It didn't take long for Ripley to forget about everything else around her. Until a few very drunk people walked through the hall joking around next to them. She broke the kiss after one of them stumbled into both Puck and Ripley. Feeling like her heart was racing u controllably, she'd quickly deflected by moving from the loud partiers and grabbing her to cup. She chugged from the plastic red cup and started dancing, pulling Puck with her.

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

The Fade-away

Summary: High School AU. You’ve known the Winchesters your entire life and as you grow up you know nothing else but following in their footsteps. So, you and the Winchester brothers teach at a local high school and you and Dean coach the winning basketball team side-by-side. When jealously begins to threaten your relationship with Dean, you have a choice to make. Will you make the right call? 

Pairings: Dean X Reader

WARNINGS: overall angst

Word count: 1300+

High school AU

The shrill bell and the scrapping of chairs indicated the end of 9th period and the school day. 

“Have a good weekend! Don’t forget to finish Macbeth,” you yelled, your back to the class erasing the sentences you were just recently diagraming. Some of your students hollered ‘goodbyes’ and ‘see you next weeks’ to you as you finished erasing, but you turned when the four basketball players shuffled out, clapping hands on each others backs to get ready. 

“See you in the gym, coach,” Justin almost whispered, eyes toward the ground, nerves written all over his face. You smiled brightly toward them, trying to hide your own nerves and nodded in response. 

“See you in a bit gentlemen.” The four boys nodded and left the room clicking your door closed behind them. In the silence you let out the breath you had been holding all period, shacking out your hands and unbuttoning the top button of your green blouse that felt suffocating. Tonight was the final game of the season before the championship 6 towns over. The team was guaranteed to win, because the opposing team ended up in the semi-finals because West Side lost their star center, who was caught drinking. Dean had had a firm conversation with all 12 boys after he found out, promising to keep them in a jail cell if they were ever caught drinking, citing the sherif, my uncle Bobby in his warning. The boys nodded, wide-eyed at sherif Singer’s name, and Dean nodded once calling for one final after school practice before the game tonight. You had to turn your back and chuckle to yourself at his empty threat, but he sure was convincing to the boys. You had known Dean your entire life and his sharp gruff exterior convinced everyone but you. 

Your mind was drifting as you leaned your hands against your desk, head down, smiling at the memory, how tough Dean looked lecturing the boys, and you couldn’t help but think about the kid you grew up with who used to let you and Sam follow him around, teasing him. You smiled at the memories, and you didn’t hear the door open, the click of it closing making you jump. 

“Woah, sorry, [Y/N], didn’t mean to scare you.” You looked up into Sam’s puppy dog eyes, and creased forehead, grinning, shaking your head in mock annoyance.

“Mr. Winchester.” You stated with a wink, shuffling some papers on your desk, knowing you had to get moving if you wanted to beat the boys to the gym. 

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, sliding into one of the desks in the front row, his large frame barely fitting. 

“So,” he started, tracing the lines of the worn desk looking deep in thought. “You nervous for tonight?” You looked into his eyes, a hand on your hips and raised your eyebrows. He let out a soft chuckle at your expression and smiled. 

“Okay, stupid question.” He gave you a sheepish look. You smiled at him and stuffed a few papers in your canvas bag to grade later tonight, if you didn’t end up at the Winchester’s apartment, hoping for a celebration instead of the glass of wine and sentence diagraming in bed you were expecting. You felt Sam watching you closely and you cleared your throat suddenly nervous. 

“Have you seen Dean yet today?” You asked hoping to sound more innocent than you felt. You hadn’t seen those bright green eyes all day and would never admit that you were missing him and anxious to see him, his presence instantly calming you. But Sam knew you better than that and gave you a knowing look, making you blush and try to look busy and unfazed. 

“He’s been in the gym since 6th period, checking for weak spots, airing up the basketballs, whatever you sports people do.” You smirked at him, loving his brain and lack of athleticism. Sam taught religious studies and lore at the high school you and both brothers taught at, and was by far the smartest person you knew. The students loved how he broke down difficult material, and the school board hated that he taught all religions when they wanted only Christianity. Time and time again he stood up in the middle of a school board meeting and expertly stated his case. His fearlessness awed you-- you were still nervous to take a few of your literature options for next year to the school board knowing they would object, and you’d be stuck with your worn copies of To Kill a Mockingbird and The Great Gatsby. 

The joys of teaching at a small town public school. You huffed out a sigh at the thought and finished packing up your bag, anxious to head to the gym and change out of the pencil skirt and heels you wore to teach AP English and Composition. You always felt more comfortable in leggings and tennis shoes, but needed to keep up the air of confidence in your classroom. Being only 26 had many of your students trying to test the waters of what you would and would not allow, and for some reason heels made you feel more in charge. 

Sam stood as you shouldered your bag and offered you his arm and you giggled poking him in the ribs as he wrapped an arm loosely around your shoulders and kissed your hair. You breathed in deeply as he ushered you toward the door and out into the hall. 

“You guys are going to kill it today.” He stated simply, his voice echoing off the empty hallway linoleum as you walked, the only other sound were your heels clicking against the floor. The assurance in his voice, almost calmed your nerves. Almost. You made it to the gym and gave Sam a nervous look, your hand gripping the handle of the large oak doors. 

“I’ll see you guys for the game.” Sam smiled wide. “Go wolves!” He raised both hands and shook them like he had invisible pom poms as he headed toward the exit. You smiled at his back and took a deep breath, ready to put yourself in assistant coach mode, where you couldn’t show your emotions. That was Dean’s job. 

The gym was empty except for a few of the players who were already dressed and under a basket stretching. You nodded at them when they hollered greetings and continued to talk about “Coach Winchester’s” lesson on Communism and the Red Scare earlier today. Dean was just as smart as Sam and was recently promoted to teaching AP U.S. History, where he could teach what he wanted. You smiled to yourself at how excited Dean was when he heard, and you headed toward the girls locker room to change. Everyone had gone home to get ready for the big game, so you knew you’d have the locker room to yourself before the opponents bus showed up in an hour. Your school wasn’t large enough to have multiple locker rooms so the visiting team was given the girls locker room to prep for the big game. 

You opened the heavy door, and the sight in front of you left you breathless. The locker room was trashed, papers littered the floor, and spray paint across the walls and ceilings left a dizzying smell. You stood there, shocked, taking in the scene. 

“GO WOLVES” was written across the lockers closest to you in bright red bubble letters, and the ceiling read “GO HOME LOSERS!” The sentiment shocked you, surprised the fun loving boys could have such an idea. You didn’t know how long you had been standing there, but you heard a knock at the door and turned to see who it was, surprised anyone would have followed you. 

“What the hell!” an angry voice yelled making you jump. You turned and locked eyes with Adam Wilson, the football coach and math teacher. His jaw was set in a firm line and he glared up at the ceiling. You hadn’t expected Wilson to even be here, let alone be the one to find the scene in front of you. But after last week, it made sense. You briefly thought back to the anger on Wilson’s face when you told him he wasn’t your type, after asking you out for the 5th time that semester. The anger that flashed across his eyes then made you take a few steps back, but you set your shoulders at the anger on his face now. 

Biting your lip, you shouldered past him and back into the gym, your heels clicking angrily. Wilson followed screaming, “Get Winchester in here!” as you stomped toward the boys under the basketball hoop. A few more had joined since you came in and turned in your direction, watching you closely. Wilson continued walking past the boys muttering, “you boys are in big trouble,” as he marched out of the gym, no doubt heading for the principal. You glared as his back as he left before turning to the team. 

They looked on in confusion before you finally spoke. 

“Care to explain what happened in there?” You asked pointedly, gesturing roughly behind you toward the locker room. Justin, Jared, and Joshua, your triplet point, small forward, and shooting guard, looked at you more confused than ever. You waited silently for an answer from the other boys when you heard snickering and whispering from the other end of the silent gym. A few of the football players stood in the corner looking toward you and the boys and suddenly the pieces clicked. It all made sense why Wilson was the one to find the mess and why he was the one to take it to the principal now. All semester he had been feuding with Dean for unknown reasons, but this was taking it to a new level. 

Suddenly the door opened to your right and Dean came into the gym, downcast eyes and a shadow forming across his face. You couldn’t help but stare as he sauntered over to stand next to you in front of the team. The look in his eyes as he glanced at you told you he already knew what was going on, and he breathed out a quick sigh before speaking. 

“Alright gentlemen,” his booming voice echoing off the walls. “Let’s go. We need to clean up the locker room before the game.” The look on his face told the team no arguments, and they stood without speaking following Dean toward the girls locker room. Wilson walked back into the gym from the opposite doors and headed toward you, but Dean was looking right through him, focusing on the task at hand, ever the leader in any situation. 

“I hope you boys have learned a little lesson in showmanship and integrity.” Wilson spoke, glancing toward the football players snickering in the corner. The boys looked down, not daring to speak a word with Dean standing before then as we walked toward the man. Wilson looked you directly in your eyes and winked at you once, and you lunged forward wanting to hit him in his smug face, but Dean grabbed you tightly around the waist and dragged you forward toward the locker room, before you even took a step toward Wilson. 

“Enough.” he stated once, quiet enough that only you heard, as he continued to grip your hip tightly, his touch searing.

Wilson’s laugh echoed throughout the gym as you, Dean, and the team entered the locker room.