#shoot this was supposed to be a short post for a silly au what have I done

[tempestmothstorm]

Ok since Monika still has her admin powers in the side stories you think she could just discover them accidentally or use them without realizing

Anyways au where Monika and friends discover her admin powers but dont know about the wider context of what it means. So they just go around thinking Monika has magic and try practicing with a bunch of silly fun shenanigans because they figure it’s some chosen one bloodline stuff and not like. A product of their reality being a constricted digital science experiment.

This au will not end well

[umbrellacam]

Ask Game

oh shoot I didn't get a notif for this - thanks so much for the tag @silverwhittlingknife! ♥♥♥

WIP Files Game

RULES: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! tag as many people as you have WIPs

I don't have many proper WIPs that exist in files rather than just inside my head hghkldfs, but okay:

Baby!Tim meets Dick again (and again)

Tim is Jason's half-brother

the isekai AU

Tim wakes up from a coma and learns he was never Robin

Tim + villains = unhappy Dick

and also the separate game where you post an excerpt from one of your wips, so this is from 'Baby!Tim meets Dick again (and again)'

for context, Tim is 6 and Dick is 13 in this, and a few months before this scene, they 'met' again for the second time and had a memorable conversation. So this is technically their third coincidental meeting, at a museum that Tim is visiting with his parents.

“N-no, I’m fine,” Tim stammered, scrubbing at his face hastily. He couldn’t let Dick Grayson see him crying about something so silly! “I just, um. I lost my Mommy and Dad.” “You - what?” Dick Grayson said, and his voice was so strange that Tim risked a glance up at him. The taut, pale concern on the older boy’s face made Tim freeze up in instant horror. Oh no oh no oh no, so stupid! “I MEAN,” Tim shrilled, clawing his fingers into his cargo shorts in distress, “I dunno know where they went! That’s all! They’re fine! I think.” They just forgot me. I sat down, I told them ‘I need to sit down’, and they kept walking. They left me behind. Despite himself, he could feel his face reddening, tears starting to well back up. He looked down and wiped at his eyes again, sniffling as quiet as he could manage. “Oh!” he heard Dick say, sounding both relieved and sheepish. “You lost them - of course.” Dick kept talking, bright and determined, something about calling the front desk. Or going to the front desk? But his voice faded out somehow in Tim’s exhaustion. Tim pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and ducking down to hide his dumb leaky face. He was so tired he would rather die than move, even for Dick Grayson. And you were supposed to stay put when you were lost, right? That was good, because he ached to just lie down right here on the dirty floor and take a nap. But even more than that, he wanted to not be crying in front of Dick Grayson about having perfectly alive parents who just weren’t here right now, the moment he wanted them, like some sort of needy baby. He wanted to have not upset Dick Grayson by reminding him of the most horrible day of his life - for the second time - like some sort of - of - bad memory charm – “M’sorry, Dick,” he mumbled, rubbing his forehead too-hard against his knee. The pressure was somehow grounding against the awful tumbling knot in his chest. In his stomach? Somewhere unpleasant. Dick paused, mid-sentence. “Huh? For getting lost? Oh buddy, it happens to the best of us, believe you me.” Tim shrugged, an awkward roll of his shoulders while still curled up. “Ummmm. No? For um. For saying it like that. I know what it made you think.” “Oh. Oh, hey, hey…” Gentle fingers touched his hair, and Tim went still as a mouse. “No. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Timmy. I’m the dummy who… Nevermind.” Dick laughed quietly. It was somehow just as good a laugh as the bright, bouncing one he’d given at the circus, before everything, even if it was a little sad. His fingers carded quick and light through Tim’s neatly combed hair - once, twice - enough to mess it up thoroughly before dropping down to settle on his back. “Don’t worry, Timmy. I’ll help you find your Mom and Dad. It’ll be okay, I promise.” His voice was so warm and steady; so was his hand on Tim’s back. And the horrible seething tangle in Tim’s stomach loosened, just like magic.

tagging (but only if you want to play, or have any WIPs for that matter!) @zahri-melitor, @alternis and anyone else who wants to play! I'm not entirely sure who else may be a writer who hasn't already been tagged for this by someone else🤔

edit: oop, just kidding, kept scrolling through my dash and I see you were tagged already Zahri! this is what I get for stepping away from tumblr for a week plus lol

[ashpentagram]

Lately I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings about Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, and overall the fandom.

Like. My thoughts aren’t necessarily the greatest, and a lot of y’all are trying my patience in aspects of body diversity and moral implications and general behavior of characters. Maybe I’ll make a stupid-long post neatly organizing my thoughts on it all.

In short though, I really don’t want what I make to be compared to canon. I don’t care if what I do is different. I don’t care what canon has to say about anything I make and anything I represent in my AUs and in my stories. If I cared, it’d just be a rigid self-insert story with no plot and no life to it.

I don’t like canon, to be blunt. I think it’s in poor taste, I think the way people interpret the characters is downright abysmal in majority cases, and I’m so sick of the infighting. I’m sick of the fetishization of gay men, and the overall lack of care I’ve viewed firsthand in all of this.

Yeah the animation is nice. Yeah there’s some good character designs. Yeah there’s a lot of very skilled people working on these shows and I want to support them and be proud of what they are making.

But I could sit here for hours picking apart all of the writing choices that have been made exclusively within canon, and how each of these choices have been abandoned for some weird fantasy of a “will-they won’t-they” that has long since overstayed it’s very brief and hesitant welcome.

I’m not even bashing on Viv, or really anything the crew has done. At face value, if you turn off your brain and you enjoy it for what it claims to be at face value, Helluva Boss is fine. It’s an ok show. It’s pretty, unique, and you’ve got silly uncensored (for the most part) fuck words in it.

But once you peel back the initial layer, you’re stuck peeling this god damn thing for hours connecting dots that say “this show is not thought out” and “what even is the point”

Like… pertaining to leaks and QnAs and general shit like that, why answer with “I don’t know” in any capacity? Am I supposed to take the fact that you’re telling me you don’t know something about your own creation and be more satisfied with that answer over “I can’t answer that due to spoilers”? Do you want people to think you’re bsing your way through a series that is much bigger than you probably intended it to get? I just don’t see the logic in some of the choices or the answers made.

And I will say, I’m heavily biased towards my own creations I’ve built as AUs of HH/HB, but I’ve always shoved those creations aside when looking at HB for what it is. I’ve tried so hard trying ti figure out the canon of the shows and with every episode it feels like it’s fuck all, “we want overarching plot but we also want it episodic but we also want tension but that tension can’t actually matter too much because this is episodic and we already decided we wanted to do somn different next episode”

Like? Ok. Whatever. At this rate it’s just so hard to give any sort of opinion other than “the series makes me tired with how hard it tries to make sense yet consistently shoots itself in the foot and then laughs about it not making sense”.

I had this in my drafts last night because just trying to think of a plausible reason to care about this show other than feeling obligated to care is so exhausting it makes me sad that something I’ve loved for so long has turned so abysmally rancid because I dared think about it in a critical manner outside of “silly demons are pretty and the animation is something different and indie”. It’s so exhausting that the first time I felt inescapable giddiness with the series was episode one, went through four episodes of wariness and confusion after that, and then felt happy when Stolas did something remotely interesting with his summoning in episode six, only for that to be stamped to dust by episode 7, and then of course, infamous episode 9. It’s been one hell of a ride, that’s for sure, and one I really wish was over by now unless it’s got some sort of ace up its sleeve that’ll briefly ignite the passion I once had for it.

I don’t hate the show. I don’t hate Viv. I don’t “hate” anything about this. I’m just really tired ig.

[jjacob]

all i want for christmas is you

❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)

GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !! 

SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju​ the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried

LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES. 

In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.

In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.

Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.

Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.

Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.

Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.

Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.

The school started to take notice of you.

Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.

“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”

Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”

Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.

“Thursday?”

“And that means?”

Right.

Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you’d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.

But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.

“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”

Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”

Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.

It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.

Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.

y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over

Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.

juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like

y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?

juyeon: sounds good to me

Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.

“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.

“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.

“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”

Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”

“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.

“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”

“I’m talking about the kink!”

Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.

Minho snickered. “You look happy.”

Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.

“Shut up, Minho.”

The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.

Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.

Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.

All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.

One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”

You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.

“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”

“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.

Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”

Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.

He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.

Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.

“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.

“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”

Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.

“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.

You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.

“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.

Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.

“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”

“See you then.”

Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.

“You’re blushing, dude.”

Juyeon shoved him.

There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.

The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.

minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today

minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me

minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house

juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(

Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.

“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”

“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”

“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”

Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.

“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.

You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.

“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”

Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.

“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”

“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”

Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.

“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”

“Right.”

Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.

He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.

That is, until his mom brought up the dance.

“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”

“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”

“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”

Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.

“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”

Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”

“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”

Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.

“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”

Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.

“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”

“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.

Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.

The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.

Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.

“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.

“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s true.”

“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”

Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”

“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”

“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”

“Good luck, champ!”

Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.

“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.

Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.

“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.

Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.

So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.

He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.

Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.

He did it.

Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”

“Oh shit.”

Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.

Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.

Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”

“Trust me, I nearly did.”

Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.

More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.

“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”

Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.

“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.

There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”

The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.

“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.

“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.

The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?

“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”

The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.

Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?

“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).

“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.

You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”

“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.

You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.

You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.

Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.

[b0ther]

pardon my manners pt. i

In which Kaeya Alberich constantly fucks his secretary silly.

pairing : kaeya x reader (feminine pronouns, afab)

rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content)

type : chaptered (probably)

tags : modern au, office setting, dom/sub undertone, office sex, manhandling, vaginal sex, cumming inside, kaeya takes a vid while fucking reader here

word count : 1,755

author's note : title from 'sexy can i' by ray j. don't comment on my disappearance or i WILL cry. this is purely self indulgent <33 also i posted this in wp... im trying out new things ok.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 │ wattpad )

"Let me see that pretty face, baby."

How many times has he fucked his little secretary by now?

How many times has he felt her drenched cunt enveloping his cock, fill her tight hole with his cum, and watch as his seeds trickle down the inner side of her thigh?

"Nooo..." Her slurred words echo through the dark office room—she is clawing his arm, hiding her face against his shoulder, as he continues to pump her pussy, warm walls milking his cock dry.

"Don't act shy now," he chuckles against the sweat of her neck, inhaling the deep scent of her hair as he raises one of her legs against his mahogany desk for more support. "You're taking me in so well, why won't you show me your pretty face?"

She whines at his teasing tone—highly contrasting the speed in which he is fucking her—and shakes her head even as she so obediently spreads her leg wider for easier access to her cunt.

God. She will be the death of him.

Kaeya laughs, one of the two hands that has been previously propping himself against the edge of his desk now travels to her mound, where he plays for a moment with her little sensitive bud—only to hear her mewl out his name, telling him to "stop or I'll not make it" (really, what else is a man supposed to do?)—before reaching to capture her full tit in his hand, pushing her body flat against his chest as he marvels at the way her body arches in both surprise and pleasure.

"Gorgeous," he places his chin on her shoulder, fingers kneading her chest. "Look at me, pretty."

She whines again—shaking her head.

"Y-you'll take pictures again," she wraps her fingers around his wrist—the accusation got him excited and Kaeya finds himself to be pummeling her pretty hole even harder now—and bites her lips to suppress her own moans.

"But you're so cute when you're all fucked out like this," he retorts with a slight frown, this time tugging his fingers on her nipple. "Look, none of my hands are on my phone, baby."

"Mhmm..."

It looks like she is thinking about it—mulling over the decision to look at him, or to not look at him. He grins at how her hums are cut off, every now and then, as he particularly spreads open the walls of her slobbery cunt with his cock in a sharp thrust.

"Show me your pretty face," he encourages once again, feeling his cock starting to pulse against her pussy. He gives her neck one long lick, squeezing one of her tits so hard that he is sure he is going to leave a mark on her delicate skin.

"I'm comin—"

Blatantly ignoring his request, she wraps her fingers around his arm tighter, ass moving in synchronization with his hips.

He should stop right there, should let her taste her own medicine. But she feels too good wrapped around his length, and so Kaeya can't even think about stopping—he wants to shoot his thick load inside of her, decorate her pussy with his white cum.

He doesn't want to stop pounding her cunt, but that doesn't mean he can't bluff about it.

"Look at me," he says between his gritted teeth, calmly moving his free hand to grasp on her hips. She gasps, raising her ass even more as she managed to climb one leg on the table. "Or I'll stop fucking your pretty hole. Mhm, want me to stop fucking you right now?"

Despite her rebellious phases, his little secretary is the sweetest girl deep down inside. She cries out a little at his threats, hesitantly cranking her neck to let him catch her gaze in his—buds of sweats are rolling down her temple, her own chin wet with her own salivation from her endless, dumb blabbering.

To make things worse, she decides to remove the hand that is so happily kneading her tit and brings it up to her face, where she sticks out her slobbering tongue to peek a taste of his palm, not breaking eye-contact.

A sound that is almost inhumane leaves his throat—Kaeya wraps his arm around her waist and feels his cock on her abdomen, abusing and bruising her cervix as she continues giving service on his fingers.

"Your cock's soooo big," she then finally sniffles as her pretty lips wrap themselves around his two digits, the edge of her eyes are wet with incoming tears. She began pumping her head up and down his fingers, speaking nonsense in the meantime: "Spreading me open—s'big, boss, too big—"

"Shit," Kaeya mutters, weak at the way her lashes would bat against each other, how trails of her wet drool are starting to leak down his arm. "Who would have thought that you'd be such a whore for your boss, huh?"

She only nods her head, keeping her eyes on his like the good girl she is, and continues making a mess on his hand.

"Are you a good slut for my cock?" He coos, only then feeling her walls tighten around his length—he is all too familiar with her body; the little fumble on her throat, the quirks she does whenever she is about to orgasm, all of it—and he begins to focus on chasing his own high.

"Gwood slu—"

Shutting her up, Kaeya presses down his fingers down her throat—the choking sound that comes out of her riles him up even more.

"Good sluts take what they are given, right?"

His head is beginning to spin; he closes his eyes, feeling her nod her head over and over again, still trying to tell him even against the big digits in her mouth about how good of a whore she is to him and how she'll take whatever he gives her.

"You're so fucking sexy," Kaeya buries his face against the strands of her hair yet again. "Gonna mark my whore up then, yeah? Gonna fill you up with my seed, make you walk around this fuckin' office with my cum in you."

His eyes, for a moment, travels to her bouncing tits, how they're uncontrollably elevating with the speed in which they are going right now. When he looks up to her face, and sees her mouth wide open with her eyes rolled to her head in pure, solicited ecstasy, he can no longer hold himself. The string of cum that flies out of his cock instantly meets her cervix, painting her womb with bright white as his ferocity is slowly becoming calmer.

"Fee me uph—"

"Shit," Kaeya laughs at her attempt in speaking, pulling his fingers out of her mouth. "Fuck, I just did, baby. How's my cum feel?"

He lets go of her torso, and watch as she falls upon his cleared desk in absolute fatigue. His hands rub her back, playing with the jiggle of her ass for a short moment as she gather her thoughts; "S'good. Th-thank you, Mister Alberich."

"Mister Alberich," he repeats, his voice mocking. He feels her body, before eventually, with his cock still buried deep inside of her, he turns her limp body around. Her skirt is hitched up to her waist, blouse halfway open with her bra somewhere on the floor. As she settles on the hard desk, he watches how her heavy breathing shows off her glorious tits rising and falling with every breath of air.

She raises one hand to hide her mouth, perhaps feeling somewhat small under his piercing gaze, and turns so that she isn't facing him.

Kaeya takes this opportunity to reach for his phone in one of the drawers, unlocking it easily to start recording a video of her god-sculpted body with the flash obviously penetrating the dark room.

"Mister Alberich!"

In a series of flustered gasp, she reaches both arms in the air as an attempt to grab his phone, but only presses her tits against each other in the process. He skillfully dodges her demanding hands and instead captures the intense look of pleasure on her face in his phone as he feels himself getting hard again inside of his cunt.

"You're only turning me on even more," he chuckles, now aiming the camera at his hand rubbing her abdomen, watching how a bulge grows as he gets more tense inside.

"How do you even take me like this, hm?" He looks up at her embarrassed face, before focusing to record her swollen clit and where he is buried deep inside of her. "Are you used to my cock? Do you like it?"

He must be some kind of sadist—Kaeya watches in satisfaction as she tries stammering out a reply. He softly caress her stomach and she squirms under his hold, even more when he starts rubbing light circles on her pretty clit; he feels it twitching, like it's begging to be sucked on.

"Mister Alberich—"

Comes her whining yet again, Kaeya turns both his camera and his gaze on her face.

"Speak up, sweetheart."

"Nghh," she mewls as she begins rolling her hips against his hand. "Please— I— I can't—"

"Yes?"

The smirk on his face grows wider.

Kaeya tediously slips his growing cock from her hole, before pushing himself back in her sopping cunt in the same speed.

"Faster—" she gasps, now using her fingers to grip the edge of her desk. "Fuck— please fuck me faster— harder, harder."

She pushes himself to sit on the desk, feet pressed against the surface to show him her aching pussy. It's like she forgets about the existence of the camera; her face melts into his favored lewd expression—the one she only uses when she is so needy for his cock, so desperate for him to pound her cunt.

Kaeya presses his camera button, and in an instant, the flash goes out. They are once again enveloped in darkness, and he pulls out of her yet again just to test the waters.

"Harder, was it?" He hums, leaning down to capture her nipple in his mouth, obsessed yet again as he sinks his face deeper into her pair of tits.

"Please," she gasps, arms snaking around his neck.

Kaeya takes her bud between the sharp of his teeth, pressing his tongue flat against it.

"You asked for it, baby," a little warning should be fine. He glances up to see her already debauched in repeated ecstasy. "I'll go hard just for you.

[galacticxcosmos]

𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 ♕︎ jjk

Pairing :- Jungkook X Reader

Genre :- Suger Daddy AU, Romantic, Erotic, Angst and Fluff

Word Count :- 3.5k

Summary :- You didn't need a Sugar Daddy, but you still have one. What could make things worse? You having feelings for him probably?? But things were already messed up beyond your imagination, you heard of the saying, "Love hurts", but this much??

Warnings :- Explicit Sex, Noona kink, Dom Jungkook, Sub reader, A lot of angst (idk how I managed to write), mature theme, confused feelings, Jungkook with his smooth ass lines to melt your heart.

A/N:- I am still working on my series, mean while I just posted this quick Oneshot. I did go into depth of literature to give out the finest of my capabilities but it's not that bad, you can give it a try I guess. P.S:- Ignore the typos ans slight grammatical errors, I am too lazy to do proof reading. :P

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The night fell, covering the sky with a dark blanket, the one that had holes through which you couldn't see light spots that resembled shimmering starts. You were standing in your large walk-in wardrobe, looking over the racks on racks of designer dresses, trying to decide what you were going to wear tonight.

A pit of uneasiness formed in your stomach, the feeling where you go back to back with feeling nauseatic to not feeling anything at all. You wondered what you were doing, why you were still doing this, even though you knew perfectly well why you still did.

You didn’t need a sugar daddy, yet you had one. You might have succeededly lied to everyone but lying to one's own self is indeed a difficult job. You had a good job when you first met him, you had your apartment, you had a decent income. A really good income, actually. There was just something about him, something that drew you in and captivated you and when he’d made the offer you hadn’t been able to refuse.

He got you a bigger apartment, you didn’t need to work. The only thing you needed to do was look pretty and be available for him whenever he needed or wanted you. You’d made one mistake in all of this and it was the one thing that kept you here and somehow simultaneously made you want to leave. You made a mistake, did something that you weren't supposed to.

You had fallen in love with him and you were falling harder.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take if you were being honest. You had given up so much just to be near him and you were starting to realise that the sex and accompanying him to certain events as his ‘friend’ weren’t going to be enough. You wanted more and you knew that he wouldn’t give it to you.

That was one of the most important rules that he had put in place when this first started. No one was to know about the two of you. Not one single person. You didn’t want that anymore though. You hadn’t wanted that in a long time but you knew that it wasn’t going to change.

You weren’t even the only girl that Jungkook had and your heart hurt a little bit more deeply each time he gained another conquest. Jungkook might be paying you to keep you around, for whatever reason you didn’t know, but that didn’t stop him from being the same playboy that he’d always been.

You sighed, pulling out a short black dress for the event tonight, knowing that Jungkook would love the way that it hugged your body tightly. It was sexy, but not in a way that flaunted your body, just the way that Jungkook liked it. The black fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the long lace sleeves covering your arms adequately. The scooped neckline covered up to your collarbones, a cutout back showing just the right amount of skin.

You walked over to the floor to ceiling mirror, slipping on your black heels and double checking your appearance, knowing that Jungkook would be here soon. Just as you finished adjusting the way that your hair fell around your slender shoulders, the doorbell rang. You let out a small sigh, knowing that Jungkook was here to take you to the new years eve party.

He always rang the doorbell when he came, despite the fact that he had the code to get in and the fact that you’d told him repeatedly that he didn’t have to. You figured it was his own way of keeping certain boundaries in the relationship that you shared. You walked over to the bed, picking up the red clutch that you’d filled with your things earlier, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving the room.

You pulled open your front door your eyes landing on the beautifully put together man waiting for you. His dark brown hair fell across his forehead in a soft wave, his silk soft lips pulled up into a small smile, his beautiful eyes wandering over you in approval of your choice of outfit.

He was wearing a quite obviously expensive black suit that accentuated his body to perfection. The crisp white shirt he was wearing had the first couple of buttons open and you wondered how he could manage to add a casual influence to the outfit and still look as good as he did. "Noona..." His voice was effective enough to send chills down your spine.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked in that soft, melodious voice of his that seemed to make your insides melt whenever you heard it. You found yourself nodding, stepping out into the hall beside him and pulling your door closed, steeling yourself to your feelings and the night that was to come as he wrapped an arm around your waist and leading you to the elevator.

You sat at an elegantly decorated table, drinking another glass of champagne, surrounded by beautiful rich people who talked about nothing and yet somehow never ran out of things to say and wondered what you were doing. Why you were here, why you kept doing this?? Confusion was bubbling up inside you.

You didn’t belong here, you knew that you didn’t belong here and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, to remove yourself from the situation you had willingly put yourself in for something as silly as love. You downed the rest of your glass, waving over a waiter and grabbing another with a small thank you and continuing to drink the one that you had just taken.

It wouldn’t be so bad, if the man you loved actually harboured some kind of feelings for you in return, but he didn’t. You knew he didn’t and yet you just couldn’t seem to tear yourself away from him, desperate for any scrap of attention he threw your way.

You let out a small scoff, taking another sip from the crystal glass that you held. You didn’t even know what number drink this was, you’d had a fair few since Jungkook had disappeared, leaving you alone in a sea of people that you didn’t know and didn’t really want to know.

It was late, you knew it was late and you found yourself wondering just how late it was. Was it almost midnight yet, almost the new year? A time when people vowed to themselves to change in some small or significant way that they never usually saw through. Did you really want another year of this? Another year of being nothing but a plaything, something to be hidden and kept a secret? Another year of loving someone that would never feel the same way about you?

Your eyes drifted around the room, taking in the countless people adorned in jewels and expensive suits. Did you really want another year living a life that you knew you shouldn’t be living? Hell, half of the people here thought you were an escort and to be perfectly honest you weren’t exactly far from it. You missed your old life, where you were respected and had friends, where people didn’t look down upon you because you were nice and a hard worker.

Your eyes landed on Jungkook, arms wrapped around a beautiful girl on the dancefloor, your mouth dropping open slightly from shock. He was kissing her. Right in front of you, in front of everyone else, in the middle of the large dance floor.

You felt a stinging in your eyes, knowing that you were going to cry and that you needed to get out of there. It was the final push you needed, the final nail in the coffin. That you couldn’t do this anymore was the only thought you seemed to have as you rose to your feet before unsteadily leaving the large and opulent ballroom.

Back in the apartment that you had called home for such a long time, you were sat on the floor in the middle of your bright living space, two suitcases open in front of you and surrounded by clothes that you were trying to pack.

Your phone had been vibrating incessantly for a while before it had stopped completely, probably Jungkook wondering where the hell you had gone and what had happened but you had ignored it completely.

You had changed into comfortable leggings and a sweater, much more to your liking. You had begun to raid the closet, grabbing the least expensive items that you had purchased since you had moved in here.

You wiped your eyes for what felt like the billionth time, wondering when you were going to stop crying about this. It was for the best, you knew it was for the best. You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself and you should have had this much respect for yourself before this entire thing started. You were pulled from your thoughts at the loud banging that sounded out on your front door, your eyes shooting up to look at it as you nibbled on your lower lip nervously. You weren’t going to let him in, you couldn’t let him in.

Your eyes grew wide and you froze as you heard numbers being punched into the keypad at the door and you could have slapped yourself for your stupidity. You’d forgotten to change the code, how could you forget to change the code? Your panicked eyes locked with his as he walked into your apartment, his eyes filled with a frustration that changed to slight panic as he took in your position on the floor, surrounded by suitcases and your belongings. “No-- Noona... What are you doing?”

There was a slight tremble to his voice that he couldn’t seem to hide and your eyes took in just how disheveled he looked, his hair no longer perfectly styled and now looking as though he’d run his hands roughly through it more than once. You dragged your eyes from him, looking back down to the suitcase in front of you and reaching to pick up some of the clothes beside you, tucking them into the suitcase as you spoke.

“I don’t want to do this anymore Jungkook. I deserve better than this and I need to learn to respect myself again. I’m going home.” You looked up at him as you finished speaking, noticing the way that his face had seemed to lose a little color, the way his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply.

He began to walk toward you, closing the distance between you quickly and you dropped your eyes from him once again, reaching out to put another stack of clothes into the suitcase. His hand found your own and you almost flinched from the contact, refusing to look up at him and meet his eyes as he spoke to you in his soft, calm voice.

“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t lose you. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just tell me what you want Noona, please.” There was a desperation in his tone, one that he didn’t seem to care to hide at this precise moment. Your eyes slid shut as you drew a shaky breath, knowing that he couldn’t give you what you so desperately wanted.

“You can’t give me what I want Jungkook, I know you can’t. I’ve done this for as long as I can, this needs to end now.” Your voice was barely a whisper, your heart seemingly breaking more at your own words. You wished he could give you what you wanted, you wished for it with everything that you had, but you knew it wasn’t a possibility.

Jungkook’s hand tightened around your own when you tried to pull it away, a hand reaching out to force you to look at him. The tips of his fingers felt ever so soft against your skin and you had to fight not to lean into the touch. “You don’t know what I can give you Noona. You don’t know what I would do for you,” you could hear the nerves in his voice when he spoke and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his own as he continued to speak. “Noona, listen to me. I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to fall asleep every night holding you. I want to come home from work to see you dressed just like this. I want everyone to know how much I love you, because I do love you, Noona. You and only you.”

Your heart almost stopped beating with his last words, your eyes widening as you looked into his own beautiful orbs. Your brain scrambled to try and process what he’d just said to you, that he loved you the way that you loved him. When you took too long to respond, Jungkook drew in a shaky breath, before speaking once again. “I was just scared. I knew that there was something about you the first moment that I met you and I wanted to keep you by my side as much as I could Noona. I know you think there have been others besides you, but there hasn’t. I’ve loved you for a long time, I want a relationship with you. I want you by my side forever Noona..”

You sat there, looking at him as he crouched before you, your mind frantically trying to process what he was telling you. You wanted nothing more than to believe him, but there was one thing that kept nagging away at you. “What about the girl earlier tonight? I saw you kissing her,” your voice shook when you spoke and you almost cursed yourself for showing how nervous you were about that question. You wanted nothing more than to believe him, but you knew that you needed to know.

Jungkook’s voice was soft when he answered you, a certain look in his eyes that made you believe him. You knew that he was telling the truth.

“She kissed me, I pushed her away and went to look for you, but you were gone. I’m sorry.” His hand gave your own a gentle squeeze, his eyes searching your own. “I really do love you. I want to give us a chance. What do you want?” Jungkook was practically handing you everything that you had wanted since you’d met him to you on a platter and you were feeling overwhelmed. You had dreamt of this for so long and you’d suddenly found yourself at a loss for words now that he was offering it to you.

Unable to form any words, you answered him in the only way that you could, leaning forward and capturing his lips with your own. He instantly reached out to you, settling himself more comfortably on the floor and pulling you into his lap, his hands gripping your waist tightly as though he was scared to let you go.

You shifted yourself so that you were straddling him, somehow never once breaking the kiss. His tongue brushed the seam of your lips, looking for access which you granted, his tongue dipping inside as your hands reached up to tangle in his silky hair. The kiss quickly grew more heated, both wanting each other with a desperation that was surprising. Jungkook’s lips pulled away, moving along your jaw to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your sensitive skin and causing a small moan to escape you as heat shot through you straight to your core.

His wandering hands found the edge of your sweater as he removed his lips from your skin, pulling the sweater up and over your head quickly and throwing it somewhere in the room, before quickly returning his mouth to your neck. You ground yourself onto him, a small whimper escaping you as your hands flew down to push his jacket off of his strong shoulders. The action caused Jungkook to let out a small groan of his own as he pushed up against you.

His voice was practically a growl against your ear when he said “Bedroom, Princess. Now,” his tone changed, dominance was evident and you didn’t have to be told twice, getting to your feet with Jungkook following quickly behind you into your plush bedroom. You had barely made it into the bedroom when Jungkook pulled you against him once again, your tongues tangling together with the same desperation that had been present in the other room.

Your hands flew to his shirt, fighting with the buttons for a few minutes before you finally managed to get them undone, the fabric falling to the floor as Jungkook maneuvered you toward the bed. His hands reached down to unclasp your bra, that quickly disappearing too, before he also removed your leggings and your panties, finally pushing you down on to the bed.

He quickly removed the rest of his clothes, before joining you on the bed and settling himself between your parted thighs, capturing your lips once again in a searing kiss. You whined into his mouth, desperately wanting him to touch you, the sound seeming to let him know exactly what you wanted from him as he removed his lips from your own and ghosting soft kisses along your throat.

He kissed his way along your collarbone, finally reaching your chest and drawing one of your stiff nipples into his mouth as one of his hands drifted along your thigh, eventually reaching the place that you wanted him the most. His tongue circled your hardened nipple as he drew a finger along your wet slit, a soft moan escaping him when he felt just how wet you were for him. Your hips bucked up, desperate for more contact with him and you felt him smile against your skin before he gave you what you wanted.

You moaned as he slid a finger inside your wetness, his thumb drawing circles into your clit when he eased another finger inside. His mouth came up to meet your own, your small whimpers and whines being caught by his mouth as his fingers worked you, your small hands gripping his shoulders tightly. You were a shivering mess beneath him when you finally pulled your lips away from his own, your voice coming out as a shaky whine when you spoke.

“I want you inside me Jungkook, please.” He chuckled against your throat, where he’d moved his mouth when you had pulled away. “Whatever you want, Princess,” was all he said as he removed his fingers from your wetness. He shifted, aligning himself with your entrance before slowly pushing into your wet heat.

You both moaned, Jungkook burying his face in the crook of your neck as he buried himself to the hilt before giving you a few seconds to adjust. His hands moved gently along your arms, fingers wrapping around your wrists to hold your arms above your head. He began to move almost painstakingly slowly, before suddenly slamming back into you with a force that pulled a surprised whimper from you. Your moans and whimpers filled the room as Jungkook continued to pound into you. “Is this what you wanted Noona?” he asked, his breath coming in short pants as he fucked you hard. You couldn’t find your own voice, your own whimpers and moans coming out as breathless pants as he continued to slam into you and you could only nod in response.

Jungkook released one of your wrists, your freed hand instantly flying to tangle itself in his soft hair as Jungkook shifted slightly, the new angle allowing him to hit you even deeper than before. Your legs began to shake slightly, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as you grew closer to your release. Your walls clenching around him told Jungkook just how close you were as he moved his free hand to rub circles against your sensitive bud and that was all you needed to fall over the edge.

Your body shook around him, your walls clenching him tightly as your orgasm washed over you. Jungkook’s movements became more sloppy and less controlled, before finally reaching his own release. his body tensed, head buried in your neck as he groaned your name, coming deep inside of you. He collapsed against you, his grip on your remaining wrist falling away and you held on to him gently, almost afraid to let him go. As if he sensed your worry, his lips quirked against your shoulder before he lifted his head, brushing a soft kiss on your lips and looking you straight in the eyes.

“I love you Noona, and I always will” he said gently, brushing his lips against your own once more. You gave a small smile as he pulled away, unsure of how this one day had ended the way that it had but unbelievably happy that the man that you loved also loved you. “I love you too Jungkook,” you whispered, "Don't say 'too' it sounds like a contract" he pouted that had successfully melt your heart, "I love you Kookie" he giggled at the nickname, "I love you more" he wishpered, you placed your lips against his soft ones, a happy smile of his own gracing his lips as you captured them in yet another loving kiss hoping the night to not end.

The End.

Feel free to like or reblog, you can follow me for more. Let me know how was it in the comments, this is the first Oneshot that I have written in this account

~peace out.

[unlucky-rubber-ducky]

Many Happy Returns

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

1105 words

Warnings: None that I’m aware of. Just. Fluff.

A/N: This was written a few weeks ago, and I didn’t like it much, but I felt like I hadn’t posted in a while so I figured this would do fine! I feel a little bad that all of my stories are kind of similar, but it’s what I enjoy writing so what are ya gonna do. On a side note, I’ve been seriously considering writing a Professor!Obi AU, but I’ve never written an AU so I feel a little silly. So, we’ll see if I’m brave enough. On a final note, please always feel free to request something!

“That is such a lie! I wasn’t anywhere near the land mine, how could I possibly have been the one to set it off?!”

“You were right next to it! You were the only one who could have set it off!”

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to slam his head on the table in front of him. Or, perhaps, resisted the urge to slam his former-padawan and grand-padawan’s heads on the table. He wasn’t sure which.

“Obi-Wan! You were there! Did I set off that bomb?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Ahsoka stuck her tounge out at Anakin, who made a show of his hurt at Obi-Wan’s betrayal.

“You wound me, master! Have you no faith in your own apprentice?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Ahsoka let out a laugh, and Anakin pouted.

“You’re just grumpy cause Master (Y/n) isn’t back yet.”

Obi-Wan glared at Anakin, but he couldn’t deny that he had hit the mark. You were supposed to be home last week, but some unforeseen resistance from the locals had delayed your return indefinitely. He had no clue when you would be back to him, and it was making him miserable.

“Master (Y/n) is an interesting conversationalist, of course I look forward to their return.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Anakin and Ahsoka shared a look.

Sue him. He missed you, and it was making him grumpy.

He stared into his breakfast. He had only taken a few bites, but he couldn’t eat anymore. 

“If you two will excuse me, I have reports to attend to.”

“Have fun with that.”

There was an unspoken ‘it’s better than spending any more time with you’ as he walked away. 

————————————————

You were tired. So tired. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept more than an hour at a time, or taken a warm shower. When you had finally gotten the word to return home, that another Jedi was being sent in your place, you nearly collapsed in relief. 

You couldn’t get on the ship that was to take you home fast enough. 

“General?”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed. You gave a sheepish grin to the clone, who pretended not to notice.

“Yes, captain?”

“I figured you would want to know that we will be arriving in Coruscant in a little less than an hour.”

“How lovely. Thanks for letting me know, Mal.” He nodded, but didn’t walk away like you had expected him to. “Is something up?”

“I just wanted to be sure you were doing alright, general.”

You let out a breath.

“Better now that we’re going home.”

“Better now that you’re going back to General Kenobi?”

“Captain! I ought to have you thrown out of the Grand Army of the Republic for insinuating any sort of inappropriate relationship between me and Kenobi!”

You tried to keep an offended expression, but a smile took over after a few moments. Captain Malum had become a very close friend of yours over the two years that you had been fighting together, and shared traumas had led to a sibling like relationship that you were sure most of the other Jedi would look down on.

“I should hope not, I don’t have any skills outside of battle.”

“Don’t sell your baking skills short, Mal!” He rolled his eyes. “You’d make an excellent pastry chef.”

“All due respect, general, but you are tiresome.”

“One day you’re gonna have another commanding officer, and they are going to have you mopping floors alongside droids when you talk to them like that.”

“I doubt I’ll ever escape your command.”

“You’re right. You’d have to shoot me down yourself to get rid of me.” The clone huffed and walked away. “Run away, captain! Run away!”

He chose not to respond.

The next hour felt like slow motion. You had taken a seat out of the way of anyone walking around, and spent your time daydreaming of a life after the Clone War. (And, to be entirely honest, a life where you could love Obi-Wan in public, not just in the stolen moments, hidden from prying eyes.)

Mal had been joking about Obi-Wan, but he had been entirely correct. You missed the man.

Despite your exhaustion, you were nearly vibrating with excitement when you stepped off of the ship. The sun was setting, and you made a b-line to Obi-Wan’s quarters.

He wasn’t there when you arrived, which you had expected. You took a quick shower, with a promise to yourself to take a long one the next morning. For now, you wanted to collapse into bed.

You grabbed a cloak that Obi-Wan had left on the back of a chair, choosing to use it as a blanket rather than the actual blanket on Obi-Wan’s bed.

You curled up underneath it, breathing in the comforting smell of your lover and drifting off to sleep.

———————————————————

“Goodnight to you, Master Kenobi.”

“And to you, of course.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure that conversation would ever end. Realistically, it had been brief. It had felt like a millennia had passed without him.

He all but dragged his feet back to his room, dreading the cold darkness that awaited him. Of course, if he had been paying any particular attention, he likely would have sensed your presence long before the door was sliding open, and he was noticing your figure laying on his bed.

“Darling!” Obi-Wan felt his heart sink when you startled awake, feeling terrible to have both spooked you and awoken you, but when a bright (and admittedly sleepy) smile spread across your face, he quickly forgot about his guilt. 

He quickly made his way to the bed, taking off the outer layers of his robes before laying down next to you.

“No one told me you’d be returning today.”

“I wasn’t told until about an hour before I left!”

“I’m certainly glad that you’re back with me.”

“As am I, my love.”

You shuffled so that your head was laying on his chest and your arms were wrapped around his waist. Your legs were tangled together, and he began to run his fingers through your hair.

“Anakin said I was grumpy.”

“Were you?”

“I’d like to think not.”

You giggled.

“I’m sure you could never be grumpy, Obi.”

“I have a terrible suspicion that you don’t truly believe that, darling.”

“You’re free to your own suspicions.”

The Force around you hummed with your shared contentment and affection, and as you drifted back to sleep you felt Obi-Wan lean down to kiss the top of your head.

“You are precious to me, little one.”

“I love you, Obi.”

[writethehousedown]

Sunshine Brighter Than Blind Love (Scyvie) - Zyan

a/n: this is not surfer AU, i know. but hear me out: i’ll post the remaining chapters during the make up period, don’t think i’m leaving you hanging. title is taken from the LP song “Girls go Wild” for no apparent reason, I just liked it - now, have some soft gals! the fic is settled in a wild west period. a cowgirl au, if you will. hope you enjoy! sideblog is @chachkisalpaca as always x

“Don’t you think it’s hot today?” Scarlet asks, lying on a pile of hay and fanning herself with Yvie’s hat. Yvie stops grooming one of Scarlet’s father’s horse to look at her, her brow cocked.

“Hot? In the middle of July? Of course not,” she deadpans, making Scarlet frown and childishly stick her tongue out at her. Yvie chuckles, going back to work. “You could be inside the house, where it’s much cooler than here, y’know,” Yvie comments, but Scarlet dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

“Nah, inside is no fun. My mama’s been insistin’ to teach me embroidery, but that’s boring,” she says, moving around the hay and finding a more comfortable position. “I like hangin’ out with you much more.” Yvie smiles at the compliment, slightly biting the inside of her cheek.

She’s not sure why Scarlet likes her or why she risks getting grounded by her parents every time she comes to the stables just to hang out and talk with Yvie, who definitely shouldn’t be getting distracted from her job by talking with her boss’ daughter, but she doesn’t complain. Scarlet is kind, quick witted, and fun to be around.

Well, she’s not so fun when she takes off the layers of clothing and lays in the hay in a see-through silk gown that allows Yvie to see every curve of her body without the corset. It’s distracting, but she doesn’t say a word about it, because she shouldn’t be getting distracted by Scarlet like that.

Scarlet sits upright in the hay, pulling her soft auburn hair in a loose bun with a piece of lace, tying it in a little bow. Yvie takes a vow to not look at her or else she won’t be able to pull her gaze off again.

“Yves,” Scarlet calls. Yvie hums to let her know she’s listening. “D’you wanna go for a swim?” She asks cheerfully, staring at her with a toothy smile.

Surprised, Yvie looks at her, tilting her head to the side. “But I have work to do,” she simply says. Scarlet pouts, folding her arms. She looks cute as all hell.

“Oh, c’mon! Dad’s not home and my mama’s off to her friend’s house,” Scarlet tries to persuade her, but Yvie cocks a skeptical brow. Both of Scarlet’s parents horses are taking a nap at the stable.

She shifts her weight from one foot to another, “Huh, last time I checked, Storm and Buttercup were over there.” Yvie points with her chin towards the entrance of the stables, but Scarlet cocks a brow, standing up and jumping a little to see over the fences. She curses when she notices it’s true.

“Ah, damn. You got me, they’re home, I just want you to come with me to the river. I’m sweating in places I didn’t know could sweat,” she admits with a shrug. Yvie chuckles, pinching her cheek.

“Then take a bath, silly.”

“I would, but where’s the fun in that?” Scarlet says, folding her arms and throwing herself back into the pile of hay with a groan.

Yvie laughs wholeheartedly. Scarlet sometimes can be a bit of a brat —collateral effects of being an only child, she supposes— but she’s nothing like some other girls from families she’s worked for. As far as Yvie knows, Scarlet is a sweetheart compared to them.

And because she’s a sweetheart —and maybe because Yvie fancies her the tiniest, minuscule bit—, she lets out an over the top groan and folds her arms, too.

“I guess I have to accompany you to the river, don’t I?”

A giddy, child-like smile appears on Scarlet’s face as she claps excitedly. Somehow, Yvie knows she’ll regret this.

***

Yvie regrets this. Very much so.

Scarlet makes her walk for almost half an hour to get to the river, first and foremost. And then, when Yvie thinks they’re just going to sit by the shore and wet their feet, Scarlet shamelessly strips from her clothes and dives right into the water, leaving Yvie frozen for a moment.

“Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation? Aren’t you joining me?” She cheekily asks, almost as if she knows what she does to Yvie.

Yvie nods dumbly, because she’s forgotten how to speak, apparently. She’s starting to unbutton her shirt when she finds her voice again. “Don’t look, please.” Scarlet puts her hands up to cover her eyes and turns around, and Yvie hastily gets rid of her clothes, setting them next to Scarlet’s.

The water is cold, and it soon relieves the heat. Yvie lets out a small pleased moan, and taps on Scarlet’s shoulder to let her know she can turn around already. She has a bright, cheery smile as she slightly splashes her.

“This is nice,” she says, oddly sheepish. She takes advantage of it to wash her hair and Yvie gives her some space, pressing her knees against her chest as she watches her.

“This is better than cleaning horse shit, yeah,” Yvie concedes, and Scarlet chuckles.

The sun is peeking through the trees, everything is in silence, with the exception of a few birds chirping, and the river’s water splashes against the rocks, creating a beautiful symphony.

As Scarlet untangles her hair, it occurs to Yvie that she looks like those mythical creatures from far away lands she’s heard her father talk about — women with a sobrenatural beauty and being way too kind to be real. The name nymph rings in Yvie’s mind, and she finds it fitting for Scarlet.

“Y’know, you never told me why did you start working at my family’s ranch,” Scarlet says, combing her hair with her long, slender fingers.

Yvie bites the inside of her cheek, not only because she’s trying to stop her eyes from scanning down Scarlet’s body, but because she’s not sure if she wants to talk about her father yet. Her mama has told her not to say a word about him, to just reply that he abandoned them if anyone asks where he is, but there’s something about Scarlet that makes Yvie unable to lie to her.

“We needed the money. It’s been hard since dad left,” she confesses, digging her nails in her thighs. Her dad’s been on the run from the authorities since Yvie can remember, coming back for a day or two after months of radio silence. She hopes one day he can stay with her forever.

Scarlet shoots her a worried glance, focusing her attention on her.

“Oh, darling,” she coos, coming closer to her. Yvie gulps. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” She does. But she’s not expecting Scarlet to understand it. “Can we talk about something else?” Yvie begs, and Scarlet nods.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you, but you’re like, my only friend,” Scarlet is quick to comment to change the topic. Yvie laughs, not believing her for a second. “For real! The girls my mama makes me hang out with don’t like me. You’re the only one with good taste in this town,” she says, attempting to flip her wet hair over her shoulder with a cocky expression.

Yvie doesn’t laugh this time; she’s heard how men talk about Scarlet in the saloons. Most of the time she can’t believe they are talking about this Scarlet, the one in front of her, with a smile as bright as the sunshine — they say she’s a spoiled brat, impossible to stand, and that if it wasn’t for her fortune, she’d never find a man to marry.

No wonder, men are stupid; Yvie would give up everything she has just to get Scarlet to like her back.

“For the record, I don’t like you,” Yvie deadpans, earning a smack in the arm from Scarlet. “See? You’re violent! Why would anyone like you, Miss Scarlet?”

A loud laugh bubbles in Scarlet’s throat, and Yvie realizes this is the first time she’s heard her laugh so carelessly.

“Oh, shut up, you! I know you love me.” She winks at her, and for a moment Yvie holds her breath. She knows she’s joking, that she doesn’t actually know. But she can’t help the tinge of panic that invades her.

“I absolutely do, that’s why I let you steal my hat whenever you want,” she says with an eye roll, pinching one of Scarlet’s cheeks. What she said isn’t technically a lie, but of course she won’t tell that to Scarlet.

Scarlet softly slaps her hand away, giggling slightly as she sits with her legs crossed, the water covering everything from the neck up.

“Can I tell you something?” She suddenly says, staring intently at Yvie. Yvie bites her lower lip, trying not to jump into conclusions as she nods. Scarlet sighs heavily before speaking. “Promise not to judge, ‘kay?” Scarlet anxiously twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger, and Yvie nods again. “So. You know we moved in a year ago, but do you know why we moved in the first place?”

There have been some rumors surrounding the James family, especially Scarlet, but Yvie knows it’s just things people say. So she shakes her head no.

Scarlet sighs again before continuing, “There was this girl that worked for us, Eileen, and she was just so, so beautiful.” She looks past Yvie, the nostalgia invading her gaze. Yvie’s heart gives a jump, “And I thought- I thought she also felt butterflies in her stomach when we were together.”

Yvie freezes, her brain short-circuiting. She’s not sure if she heard that right, or that she understands what Scarlet is saying. It feels like a dream, and she sure as hell doesn’t want to wake up.

“My parents found out, fired Eileen, and decided we’d move as far as possible, in case Eileen had told anyone.” Scarlet finally pulls her gaze to meet Yvie’s. Yvie’s stomach flips the moment she scoots herself closer, without breaking the eye contact. “So, I must ask you, before you turn into even more of another Eileen and I have to move houses again, to stop saying you love me if you don’t mean it.”

It takes Yvie a full minute to realize what Scarlet just said, and even when the words sink in, she’s unable to believe it. Scarlet is looking at her as if she’s a wounded animal and she’s pleading for mercy; she flinches when Yvie brings a hand to meet hers, so she just leaves her hand hanging halfway.

“I’m not Eileen,” she begins, and almost right away she sees how disappointed Scarlet looks. “I’m Yvie, and unlike Eileen, I do mean it when I say it.”

Scarlet’s eyes grow wide, blinking repeatedly in astonishment, and Yvie slowly tries to reach for her hand again. This time, she doesn’t flinch; instead, she laces her fingers with Yvie’s.

“For real?” Scarlet musters, and Yvie nods with a soft smile.

“For real.”

Yvie shifts her position a little, taking Scarlet’s chin with her free hand and attracting her face to deposit a soft kiss on her lips. Scarlet is surprised for a moment, but soon she follows Yvie’s pace.

They know what they’re doing is dangerous; anyone could run into them and they’d inevitably be hunted down, because in the eyes of the law, this is wrong.

But as Scarlet wraps her arms around Yvie’s neck, pulling her closer and smiling into the kiss, there’s nothing more important in the entire world.

tags: scyvie, scarlet envy, yvie oddly, fluff, lesbian au, wild west au

[youhearstatic]

Cor’s Adventure Zone Writing

Longer Fics - solo

Chrysanthemums (Lovesick) - A Blupjeans hanahaki fic.

Barry Bluejeans knows what’s happening the moment the first petal appears.

And he knows how it will end.

Losing Time - (Set after Story and Song) After being missing for three days, Barry has been mysteriously de-aged. Now he looks 20 years old and doesn’t remember anyone. Lup, Kravitz, and Taako are trying to figure things out. 

Also on tumblr: Part One  | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen

Losing Time “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about Losing Time. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

It’s About Time - This is a love letter to Barry Bluejeans of sorts: the whole campaign of The Adventure Zone: Balance (and then some) told from Barry’s point of view. (Part of ‘All the Time in the Worlds’ series, this fic covers their Stolen Century from Barry’s POV.)

It’s About Time “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about the fic. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

Time After Time - With Lup missing and he and Taako unable to find any sign of her, Barry Bluejeans had thought things couldn’t get any worse.

He was wrong. Now he’s completely alone, on the run, hoping to find a way to fix everything and reunite his family.

These are Barry’s voidfished years, his years without Lup, his years forced to play the villain.

(Part of ‘All the Time in the Worlds’ series, this fic covers the Faerun part of the podcast from Barry’s POV. Updates on Fridays.)

Bluejeans, Boxers, and One Bed - A prompt that got out of hand, this is my contribution to the best mutual pining trope out there: There Was Only One Bed! 4500+ words of ridiculous pining with a side dish of underwear angst. Yup, it’s a thing.

Legato Solos - Before their song was ready, before their big performance, Barry and Lup spent their last few months consumed with thoughts of one another. (Rated Mature.)

Like Friendship Set Aflame - Barry has been searching for the perfect gifts for everyone. The problem isn’t finding something perfect for Lup. It’s that it’s too perfect. (Rated Explicit. Essentially? This is over 12k words of smut. )  

This necklace was incredibly and conspicuously expensive. There was no way to give it to her at the same time he gave Magnus nail polish and a silly stuffed animal. There was no way to not be obvious that he cared about her as more than just a crewmate. This was a piece of jewelry that said ‘I have been painfully in love with you for decades and will continue to be for as long as I exist’ and said it in big, shouty letters.

This necklace was overt. Undisguised.

This necklace was a declaration.

Like Friendship Set Aflame “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about the fic. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

A Thousand Tiny Moments - Before being chosen for the Starblaster crew, Lup meets someone at a party. It doesn’t go well. (Part of the ‘All the Time in the Worlds’ Series, this is the Lup POV companion fic to It’s About Time. 14k words)

She drifts closer to him and slowly, so slowly, she bends her head to his. She pauses inches away, not yet touching but so close they share breath. Her hand slides along the lapel of his jacket and she feels his chest rise as he breathes in.

She looks at his mouth and thinks this is the last moment before I kiss him. It’s as inevitable as his chest falling beneath her hand as he exhales. So she kisses him. His lips are warm and soft against hers with the rich sting of alcohol painted on both their mouths.

The Lup POV minific that became A Thousand Tiny Moments

A Thousand Tiny Moments “Exit Interview” (10 fanfic questions answered about ATTM. Includes a lot of behind the scenes and extended explanations.)

Longer Fics - colabs

Wild Dragon Chase - Having spotted the same distinctive looking dragon several times and in several different planar systems, Lup is ready to force a meeting. A dragon on their side against the Hunger would be a tremendous advantage.

Barry Bluejeans has kept his true nature a secret for half a millennia. He’s been alone since the rest of his flight died trying to defend the town they were the protectors of. That’s a difficult life for a crystal dragon who hoards sentimental and emotional bonds the way other flights hoard gold or relics. Can he risk his secret when half the crew despise dragons? (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic) 

Also, here’s a quick scene that would take place about two weeks after the events of Wild Dragon Chase, a conversation between Taako and Lup about her and the dragon.

A Single Slat of Wood and Canvas - After months of training, Lup fails to bring in her first solo reaper contract. She won’t tell anyone exactly what happened, even Barry. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Barry woke with a start. His hand reached for the other side of the bed before he even knew who or where he was.

“Lup?” he asked the empty room.

Her side of the bed was cold. Barry was up and fumbling for his glasses in an instant, his heart pounding.

Made Before the Voidfish (Broken by a Voidfish) - For months Lup, Magnus, and Merle have been haunted by the presence of the ‘red robe’. Often showing up after their adventures to offer cryptic and usually unhelpful warnings and advice. Shortly after the events at Refuge, Lup hatches a plan to finally pin this incomprehensible creature down and get the answers to the questions burning inside her. [TwinSwap AU 1.0]  (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Lup heard her own voice twist into a burst of static. She couldn’t remember what she had just said or hold it in her brain, but her mouth knew the words. She bent over, a lance of pain shooting through her head. It hurt so much, but she was so close to something she just had to keep going.

More static. It was like something was stealing the words away from her. She tried to claw them back, but they just would not stay in. It was like vomiting, but with words that she couldn’t hear.

Lust is a Thing with Fangs - Lup tries to sneak in one more day of laboratory work before her annual heat cycle kicks in. Barry is there. It goes about how you would expect. (Explicit content.) (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

Lup paused at the door to the lab. She stood up straight, wrapping herself in dignity and ignoring her heart pounding in her chest like a jackhammer. It would be fine. It was only Barry. He would be way too focused on his work to notice her trembling, or the fact she was flushed from the tips of her ears to her toes.

Lup licked her lips. She suddenly had the strangest feeling. Like part of her had come to a revelation about something and another was frantically trying to muffle it before it could be brought to her attention.

A Night at The Naughty Kitten - Out of options after the Starblaster hastily relocated without them, Lup and Barry spend the night at a “boutique” “short stay” hotel.

There’s only one bed, but that’s the least of anyone’s problems. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic)

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. It wasn’t the first time she’d ended up like this, but every time Lup wondered if it would be the one to break her. He wanted her so badly. Lup didn’t understand how she was supposed to handle seeing it so clearly on his face on top of her own longing.

Sandworms and Other Concerns - Barry discovers that Lup’s presence can improve any situation, including having his arm torn off by a fifty-foot-long, carnivorous, burrowing, acid-spitting, hook-toothed, pinstriped Sandworm. (By @tanger-catnip & @youhearstatic - Also on AO3.) {Hey guys, just to let you know: The sandworm is all in the title. This is Hurt/Comfort wrapped in Fluff. Angst levels are at absolute minimum!}

Short Fics

Barry & Lup:

Lup watches Barry Sleep - Post S&S

Ghosts of Candlenights Past, Echoes of Candlenights Future - Barry feeling sad about the holiday and not realizing just how close he is to having what he always wanted.

Morning in Bed - Lup and Barry just cuddling and being in love. Prompt Request.

It’s Cold Outside But You’re Warm - Lup and Barry mutual pining. Prompt Request.

Strings - Lup and Barry just performed their song. Lup has a few final doubts.

What If She’s Just Gone? - Barry’s anxieties get away from him when Lup is missing. Prompt request.

Will You Marry Me - Barry does what he has to. Prompt Request.

Reactions - The twins deal with Barry being ill. Prompt Request.

Curse and Canyon - Barry is hurt. Lup is trying to deal. Prompt Request.

Take a Picture - Lup is frustrated. Prompt request.

Your Laugh is so Adorable - Lup does some reluctant pining. Prompt request.

Don’t Touch Me - Barry and Lup short experimental piece.

Gathering - Taako plans a party. Prompt request.

It was the Pottery - Taako teasing Barry. Prompt request.

Super Short & Cutesy - Barry and Lup in the lab. Prompt request.

What You Did Was Stupid - Barry and Lup on Tesseralia. Prompt request.

This One is Really Dark - You’ve been warned. Prompt request.

Let Me Help You - Prompt request for Barry & Lup.

You Don’t Have to Act Like You’re Okay - Prompt request for Barry and Lup.

Pride - Prompt based minific of Lup coming to Barry’s rescue at a Pride event.

Hotel Balcony - A prompt based modern meet-cute for Barry and Lup.

Hotel Balcony Pt 2 - Hey look, there’s more!

Contradictions - Test minific/opener for the Barry POV fic.

Lup and Barry switch - Lup is the one that falls from the Starblaster, taking Taako with her.

At the Wedding - Barry and Lup at Carey and Killian’s wedding. Quick scene inspired by a post.

True Seeing - Barry in a voidfished body with a group of adventurers. Short group write piece.

TazDelightful’s personality swap - A short piece with Taako and Evocation Specialist Barry talking, the echo of their beach discussion in an AU where Barry is the rowdy flame mage and Lup is the nerdy science officer.

Whumptober Prompts: A set of prompts for October 2019, all focused on angst and “whump.” Despite the focus, many of them do still have happy endings or at least, given the nature of Stolen Century, imply an eventual happy ending, since they still fit roughly within canon.

First fourteen prompts - The first fourteen days of prompts were strung together into a single story. Links at the bottom will lead through the story. This is a sort of general angst piece that delves into sci fi magical realism. 

Breathless - Lup wakes up alone. Set post S&S.

Pinned Down - Barry and Lup encounter a problem trying to get across a battlefield to return to the Starblaster.

Stay With Me - Once again, fate keeps them from having a certain conversation.

Bound - Barry dies again. This might be his worst one yet.

Asphyxiation - Lup is nervous about getting in a body again after so long being noncorporeal.

Trembling - Lup and Barry and a few, final minutes.

Laced Drink - A poisoned drink makes Lup reassess priorities.

Hallucination - Barry wakes up sure a terrible situation is happening again.

Other Short TAZ Pieces:

Love is Dead - Taakitz Soulmate/Soulmark AU with Blupjeans background. Also on AO3.

Just Like the Movies - Taakitz first Candlenights. Also on AO3.

Getting Home - Super short Magnulia prompt

Second Chances - When Lucretia gets the second void fish she realizes she can inoculate Davenport and talk to him.

Just You and Me - JohnChurch prompt request.

Karma is a Bitch/What Did You Say? - Taako & Barry’s friendship prompt request.

Can You Keep a Secret? - Taako & Barry’s friendship prompt request.

What if the Stones of Farspeech hadn’t been confiscated? - THB and others develop a friendship with the mystery contacts in their stones. Short group write piece.

Meta, Etc

Headcanons:

[The Twins | Taako & Lup]

[The Lover | Barry]

[The Protector | Magnus]

[The Lonely Journal Keeper | Lucretia | The Director]

[The Peacemaker | Merle]

[The Wordless One | Davenport]

[Kravitz]

[Miscellaneous]

Meta:

Lucretia and the Red Robes (Pt 1) Lucretia and the Red Robes (Pt 2)

A list of every conversation Lucretia has with the boys about the Red Robes and a discussion of her thought process/intentions. Part 2 focuses specifically on how her words in Ep 59 may have influenced Magnus’s decisions going forward.

Murder or Suicide: What is it when lich!Barry sets up his living!Barry body to die?

Other:

TAZ Balance Characters as WoW Classes

[turnupswritessometimes]

The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch1

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 1

Word Count: 4236

Description:  Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

1

Of all the things to keep close during a zombie apocalypse, Ash wouldn’t have been in a hurry to save a camera.

But here was this Japanese boy clutching his to his chest as though it was a lifeline. As though it would be able to kill zombies – walkers – whatever you called them.

Bones and Kong had spotted him on a patrol. As he still had every appendage where it should be, the complexion of a human and no apparent desire for human flesh, they had invited him back to their hideout. Rather recklessly, Ash would add, but a the non-leader part of him had known they were right. Here was someone who needed help. If zombies were following, then they’d just have to deal with it.

So far, he hadn’t said a word. That worried Ash – as though the boy’s jaw would drop and that would be when the transformation happened. A long, low moan coming from him and then the frenzy for brains.

But his eyes were clear and dark.  Zombie’s eyes looked like eggs in their skull – white and fleshy and unseeing. This boy had wide, eyes the colour of melted chocolate that watched everything calmly. He looked at Ash. Maybe it was because they had colour, but he felt his lips twitch upwards at those eyes. He wanted to say it was just because he had seen two many egg-eyeballs and that was why he liked those eyes so much. Eyes like a Labrador retriever – trusting Ash and his merry band of street kids without a second thought.

The man they had found him with had been doing all of the talking, in halting English. Ash could feel a frown coming on as he listened to their explanation. He wished he could make it easier, but he didn’t speak a lick of Japanese. French, Italian, sure. Enough German to hold a conversation. But Japanese? No.

They had been in New York as journalists – that explained the camera. When the outbreak had started, they had switched to a hotel in New Jersey – far enough out of the city to sleep at night, but easy to get back to their article when it died down. They had thought it would die down. Everyone had.

Then of course, things got worse. Things had spread.

So they had fled New York, but they had no idea where they were going. They had tried heading through New York State, because survival had taken over having a long term plan.

“What were you writing about?” Bones asked. He was sat on a crate, swinging his legs so that his battered converses knocked against the wood. It was an annoying noise, but Ash found it hard to get angry about.

“It was about – about street gangs.” The man said. He tried for a smile, but he still looked tired and haggard. “I guess we found one.”

Ash nodded. He leant back against a crate. “We decided it was better to stay in one place – build up our defences. If we have a stronghold, we can last this out.”

“He says ‘we,’ but Ash decided it,” Kong said. He was next to Bones – everyone had gathered around with eager eyes. Everyone wanted a glimpse at these new people – new people who weren’t foaming at the mouth to kill them had been a rarity in the last two weeks.

But something had just clicked with Ash. A reporter – a reporter writing about street gangs in New York.

“Ash Lynx,” he said, holding a hand to his chest. He couldn’t help but smile when the man’s eyes widened in realisation. He had been expecting that – he didn’t expect him to burst into laughter. After a moment, he held out his hand to Ash.

“Shunichi Ibe,” he said. “And this is Eiji Okumura.”

Eiji Okumura. Ash had to wonder if that name meant anything in Japanese. He smirked, shaking Ibe’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said. “What a coincidence, huh?”

“You can say that again.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Ash said, leaning back against the crates. “For however long you need. This can’t last for much longer.”

Ibe nodded his thanks, colour returning to his cheeks. That made Ash feel like he was doing a huge favour. He couldn’t bring himself to think anything of it. Surely that’s what any decent person would do. Ash wanted to be decent. He wanted to come out of this looking decent. It was selfish – but if an apocalypse was what it took for him to become a decent person, then maybe it would be worth it.

Bones and Skipper started the clamouring – pestering Ibe about what he had already written – and that started the others off. They bombarded him with questions – because it was still bright daylight and the situation never felt quite as real in the day. It was easy to laugh and joke and pretend that a Japanese reporter was the most interesting thing that they had ever seen.

Ash slipped away. He stepped around them so that he was stood next to the Japanese boy. Eiji. He was watching everything with that same interested look in his eyes. Like it was all fascinating. Those dark eyes also had dark lashes. Ash supposed they were long, but maybe they weren’t. They were the right size, he supposed. His skin was dark, the colour of a latte, but it looked gold where the patches of sunlight were coming through the roof. And he had a bow-shaped mouth – Ash’s attention was only drawn towards it because it was parted ever so slightly.

The boy looked up at him suddenly and then away. That was what made Ash realise that he had been staring. He cleared his throat.

“It was Eiji, wasn’t it?” he asked. Because he wanted to hear this boy talk – and it wasn’t just to check that he still could.

Almost as if he knew, Eiji just nodded. Involuntarily, Ash sighed and he suddenly looked panicked.

“Sorry – I’m-“ there was that voice. “I’m not – my English is…not so good.”

“It sounds great,” Ash said. It had been on impulse, because he hadn’t expected that voice. He was nervous, clearly, but there was something in that voice that Ash couldn’t put his finger on. “I mean, you’re doing great.”

“I haven’t really spoken much yet.” Eiji was smiling – a shy, apologetic smile up at Ash. He was short – shorter than him by a couple of inches, at least.

“I can tell these things.”

Eiji gave a soft laugh. He looked so self-conscious that a part of Ash just wanted to shake him. What kind of a person worried about his English in the middle of an apocalypse. The world was ending, but this boy was wasting time being shy. It seemed completely backwards.

“Um,” Eiji said, too loudly and then looked down, embarrassed. “I don’t suppose – it’s silly – that’s real?”

He gestured towards the gun slung into Ash’s jeans. There was no point concealing it anymore – hiding it under a shirt cost him a precious half second.

“It is.” Ash said, his finger running over the top of it. His pistol.

“I never saw a real gun, before-“ Eiji waved a hand to the doorway. They had attached several more bolts to the warehouses doors to keep it reinforced. “Can I hold it?”

“Sure.” Ash wasn’t sure what it was – maybe it was the poor, accented English, or the genuine look of interest in those damn, dark eyes, but suddenly he was handing over his gun to this boy. His gun.

He stared at it for a moment, his fingers running over the barrel of the gun. As though it was something precious. Ash had expected him to point it at someone – to play at shooting zombies or something – but he just handed it back and said “thank you.”

"You don't want to keep it? For protection?"

Eiji shook his head. "I can't shoot."

Ash wasn't sure why that made him smile. That should mean that he was a liability. That he was weak. And yet, he found it oddly endearing.

“Well, I can’t shoot with yours,” he gestured to the camera hanging around Eiji’s neck.

He looked down, like he had forgotten that it was there at all. Then laughed, holding it carefully. After all, that was his chosen item to save in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Maybe that was why he shrugged and said "I'll teach you to shoot, sometime."

Sometime? Like this was a happy vacation and they wouldn't be discovered any day now. Like they weren't walking a tightrope between alive and dead, with undead a gaping possibility underneath. Like teaching a boy he had just met how to shoot a gun was normal. Maybe it was, when he was shooting people in the head daily. Maybe that could be his excuse, because suddenly some part of him didn’t want Eiji to know the truth. That guns were a daily occurrence before the living dead.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Ash wasn’t expecting to survive before the week was out, and he knew as soon as he went his team would fall apart too. If that happened, there was no way Eiji and Ibe would be able to hang on. It was a miracle they had made it this far.

That was a terrible thought. It made Ash feel vaguely sick. No, he didn’t want it to not matter. But he didn’t want to think about all of this.

Just why on earth had he promised a sometime?

*

Eiji hadn’t been able to sleep at all. The ‘hideout’ was an old warehouse and the wind rattled the walls all night.  The sleeping area was at the top of a very rusty ladder – the floor was metal with that pattern of raised lines that made it impossible to get comfortable on. Everyone just seemed to drop their sleeping bags and fall asleep in a pile like a litter of puppies, all pushing each other to get a spot on the air mattresses. The only one who seemed unrivalled for a place in the middle was the tiny, dark-skinned boy spread-eagled in the middle. He hadn’t been brave enough to throw himself into the bundle of bodies.

It was cold on the other side of the warehouse and every howl of the weather outside made Eiji’s heart pause. They were safe here – they had a changing guard all night and he’d been told at the first sign of a zombie they would hit the fire alarm – sending thick, metal doors down to seal them off from the world. If that didn’t work, they were all packing guns.

Everyone but Eiji.

He kept seeing the same face – a middle aged main with flaking, beige-green skin. A trail of dried blood running down from the corner of his mouth and those wide, white, unblinking eyes. Hardly the worst he had seen – there was no hanging eyeballs or broken, drooping jaws – but it had been the first. And it had been so almost normal that it had been even worse. Uncanny valley, his brain told him, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what the phrase entailed. It had been the moment that he had known something was very, very wrong. He had tugged on Ibe's sleeve without a word.

And then the man had turned.

Then the man had grinned.

Eiji opened his eyes, feeling panic bloom in his throat at just the memory. He sat up in the darkness - because it was pitch black up here.

Sniffles, snorts and snores came from the pile of teenage boys as he fumbled for his phone and flicked the torch on. He padded across the raised metal floor in his socks, then inched down the rusty ladder at the far end, his phone tucked into his chin.

There was a rectangle of moonlight coming from the huge doors that lead into the warehouse. It had been filled with squashy, smelly furniture that looked like a shadowy army in the dark. Ibe had been offered the battered armchair downstairs as a courtesy. He had asked Eiji if he was fine with it and Eiji had nodded, but there had been a ball in his throat as he had. Don't leave, he wanted to say. Don't leave me alone with all these loud American boys.

A figure was silhouetted in the doorway. They turned as they heard Eiji approach.

“No torches.”

Eiji flicked it off before thinking. He knew that voice. That was the blonde boy who had smiled and told Eiji his atrocious English was good.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping up to the doorway.

But the boy had already turned back to stare out over the forest. Ash Lynx – Eiji remembered – he couldn’t forget a name like that. It didn’t seem like the name a real person used.

“Everyone seems to think that they can see lights,” Ash said. He was leaning against the door, his hands in his jean pockets like this was completely normal. “I don’t know how much truth there is in it, but I’m not risking it.”

“Mmm,” Eiji leant against the other door, mainly to stop himself from shaking. He liked Ash – Ash had been the only one who hadn’t spoken to him slowly, as if he was a complete moron. But he still needed to take a moment to translate when he was speaking so fast.

He chanced a glance at Ash. The light made his hair look silver and his skin ghostly. But his eyes were still that bright green and still had that sparkle in them. Eiji hadn’t been able to look at him for more than a moment earlier when those eyes were on him. He hadn’t been able to look at Ash for more than a moment anyway.

Eiji couldn't believe that this had happened. His first trip to the state and he had been caught in an apocalypse. A zombie apocalypse. The zombie apocalypse.  It seemed completely ridiculous. He had found the gang leader that he had come all this way for, but they were standing in the entrance of a warehouse, looking out for zombies because he hadn’t been able to sleep.

Ash didn’t say anything, but he didn’t chase Eiji off either. They just stood there – a slight breeze in the air, eyes searching the line of trees that sat on the horizon. They were stars, even though they were hardly out of the city, and Eiji wanted to know whether Ash would be able to point out the constellations. He couldn’t.

There was a lot of things he waned to say to Ash. There were so many things he wanted to ask. But the questions never managed to get to his mouth. He hated that he was scared to ask because the words came so easily in Japanese but what if the wrong English one came out? What if he skipped a word or said something too formal or informal or-

But Ash had smiled at him and said that his English had sounded great. That had sent a warm thrill through his chest.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood, staring across the woodchips into the forest before them, but eventually one of the other guys clapped Ash on the shoulder and told him to “get some rest.”

Ash had nodded and his eyes fixed on Eiji’s for just a moment more than was necessary.

“I’m going to crash on the sofa,” Ash said, mainly to the big guy – Kong, Eiji thought his name was – then he turned to Eiji. “If you don’t want to sleep like a meerkat, you can stay down here.”

“A meerkat?”

“You’re right, they’re not cute enough to be meerkats,” Ash paused, and he could hear Kong laughing at the doorway. “What about a litter of piglets?”

“Piglets are cute.”

“Mmm…I guess,” Ash fell over the arm of a sofa, landing on it face down. He raised a hand and waved at Eiji. “Don’t let me sleep in too long.”

In case he was late for school in the morning? Eiji wanted to ask. What did any of them have to wake up for?

But he wasn’t sure how to ask, and Ash’s breathing had evened out already. He couldn’t even remember falling asleep on one of the squashy sofas. They were lumpy and smelt of a dozen things Eiji couldn’t place.

But suddenly the sun was streaming through the warehouse door and there were voices all around him. The room was suddenly full of teenagers wearing ripped jeans and oversized hoodies. And most of them had guns sticking out of their jeans.

None quite looked like the one Ash had – like something from the nineteenth century. All polished wood and shining metal.

No one would have been able to guess that the world was ending outside. They were all laughing and joking with each other, kicking and tossing things and eating their supplies with abandon. It was the postcard image of ‘boys will be boys,’ the idea of boy’s in an American high school. Eiji had never been like that. He wasn’t sure how to join in now – if he even wanted to. It was all rough and tumble and they seemed so close.

The only other person that wasn’t joining in was Ash Lynx himself. He was sat to the side, watching with his chin on his fist.

"You're quiet," Ash leant towards him, the sun making a stamp of light on his skin.

Eiji shrugged. He wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Sorry."

"That's nothing to be sorry about."

Everyone was looking at them now. Because Ash had paid attention to him, the whole gang was privy to their conversation. One guy, with a haircut that even the 80s would fine questionable, spoke up.

"I watched this film once!" he paused as though that was all he had to say. "And the guy picked up a foreign language just by listening to the people talk around him - do you know that film?"

"Bones, that could be any film,” the small boy said, rolling his eyes.

"It had Puss in Boots in it?" Bones scrunched a pale face up as he thought about it.

Ash looked at Eiji, an eyebrow raised as if to say 'do you see what I have to deal with?' Eiji couldn't help giggling. He had missed laughing - it felt as though it had been forever since he had laughed.

"What are you talking about?" Ash asked, completely unimpressed.

"C'mon boss, we watched Shrek 2 altogether."

Kong nodded then, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. "Masterpiece of a movie. The best Shrek film."

"Yeah, and the cats not real."

"Not the cat, boss - the guy who voices him. He was in that movie!" Bones insisted. "Anyway, I bet that's what Eiji's doing - isn't it Eiji? You're trying to get better at English just by listening to us!"

"Well, I know English, kind of-"

"Eiji speaks English just fine." There was that snap of authority that had been in his voice the previous day. The snap that made everyone fall silent like scolded puppies. Ash stared at them all, then sighed and stood. "I'm going for a breath of fresh air."

He headed off, to where Ibe was standing by the door. He seemed to be the only one here who still owned a belt, Eiji noticed. And then realised he had been staring too long and dragged his gaze away. There was nothing to that, he said. It was just an observation.

"Don't forget a baseball bat!" Bones called cheerfully after him and Ash waved a hand in acknowledgement. A chuckle went through the group at the remark, but it made Eiji's skin crawl.

He hadn't killed a zombie yet. He hoped he wouldn't have to because he wasn't sure he'd be able to. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look into a human's face and shove a knife through their brain. It's brain. It.

The thought was too much, it overturned his stomach. He leant over to Bones and murmured "Going with him."

Bones nodded and opened his mouth to ask something but then someone had him in a headlock and he was digging his elbow into the soft flesh of their stomach and it was all much too rowdy for Eiji. He slipped away.

Ibe was standing guard, somehow managing to keep a weathered eye on the horizon despite the chaos unfolding in the warehouse. Eiji didn't even think he'd noticed him as he passed, until he had a hand on Eiji's elbow.

"If you're going out here, stay close to Ash, alright?"

It had only been a night, but Eiji was so relieved to hear Japanese again.

"Alright."

Ibe nodded and let him go, slowly. He looked a lot older than he had last week. Maybe it was the lack of shaving, but he looked much more weather beaten, more like the protagonist of a gritty western than the journalist Eiji had left Japan with.

He wondered if he looked any different. He had caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and the only difference was the dark crescent moons under his eyes. He didn't even really need to shave, there was only a dark shadow under his lip - nowhere near as impressive as some if the stubble the others were sporting.

But Ash didn't have much stubble either, he supposed, squinting in the sunlight. He still had peach fuzz on his cheeks and even the hair on his jaw was saw blonde it was hard to see.

He was watching Eiji, his eyes flickering from him to Ibe.

"What'd he say?" Ash asked. He was pulling a lighter from his jeans pocket. He flicked sparks from it.

"Stay close to you."

Ash smirked. "That's not good advice."

"Why?"

Sparks came from the lighter again. There was a long pause where Ash was staring at the floor. Eiji looked too. Ash was wearing a battered pair of converses, so dirty the white toes were a grey-brown colour. Eiji’s own didn’t look much better from the week he had spent on the run.

"Because I've done some things that I'm not proud of."

“Well.” Eiji rolled his tongue around his mouth. “Everyone has.”

Ash gave him a strange smile.

Then he pulled a box out of his pocket and tugged a cigarette out of it. Eiji watched him light it with some fascination. There was something about the way his eyelashes fanned over his face as he looked down and the way that he cupped his hand over it that Eiji couldn’t pull his gaze away from. He looked like he belonged in a different time – like he had been teleported over from the late seventies.

 "Fresh air?" Eiji asked.

"It's ironic.” A curl of smoke came from Ash’s mouth. He was still smirking and it was still making Eiji’s stomach do flips. His stomach had never done that before – he supposed it was the nerves that was making it happen now.

"I see. Very cool,” Eiji said. “Very macho."

Ash chucked, he took another drag of his cigarette. "There's nothing about me that's macho.”

"Sure. You're a Danny Zuko."

"More of a James Dean."

"Ah,” Eiji said, because he didn’t know what else to say to that.

There was another chuckle, another curl of smoke coming from Ash’s mouth, another flip of Eiji’s stomach.

"You have no idea who I mean, do you?" Ash asked.

"Sorry."

"Rebel Without a Cause,” he tapped the end of the cigarette and put it back in between his teeth. “If we come across a video store, I'll pick it up for you."

"A video store? Did zombies send us back to the nineties?"

"I think the polite term is ‘walkers’?"

"What - is the zombie going to kill me extra hard if I call him a zombie? Will I get given a lecture on hurting a zombie’s feelings?"

"You're mean." Ash was still smiling and for some reason that smile made Eiji feel so much less conscious about talking English.

"They're zombies!” he insisted. “Zombie is a word that you never get to use in real life. I'm using it."

“That’s adorable.”

He was still smiling – smirking really – at him, his eyes as green as the trees around them. Impossibly green.

Eiji’s stomach did more strange things that it hadn’t been doing before. He blinked at Ash, wondering if he had made a mistake. He must have gotten his English confused. This gang leader can’t have told him what he thought he had told him.

He didn’t seem to think so either – Ash’s eyes widened slightly and he turned away. He slipped a hand into the pocket of his ripped jeans and looked out over the clearing. It was just like last night. They lapsed into back into silence, but this time there was an air of awkwardness. Like they had said a little too much and they were trying to go back to how it was before.

Before – they hadn’t even known each other a day.

But the funny thing about living in an apocalypse was that it felt like he had known him a lot longer.

Or maybe he just wanted to.

[isaackuo]

Starco Week5 Wrap-up!

This week was really fun! It was nice for someone to actually see the silly comics I draw! Normally, hardly anyone even notices so I rarely put in the effort of a multi-panel comic.

Here are links and explanations to my Starco Week 5 comics:

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185176588866/awkward

The one that started it all for me! I actually didn’t even notice there was a Wedding prompt later in the week. I just saw a post about “Awkward Dating Moments” and the Kellco shipper in me thought of a cute little comic that MAXIMIZED STARCO AWKWARDNESS.

So I thought, why not? It was only 3 little panels, and it mostly involved me drawing Kelly - who I find easy to draw. And I thought it was freaking hilarious.

EXPLANATION:

This comic refers to Booth Buddies, a “memorable” episode among us Starco shippers. In it, Kelly and Marco are on a wedding date, until Star Butterfly yoinks Marco away to the infamous photo booth. Then things get a little weird. In this comic, Kelly gets back by yoinking Marco to be her breakup buddy “booth buddy”, when Marco and Star are on a “wedding date” ...

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185223809716/yeah-im-a-bad-boy-princess

This one was the toughest for me, and also the weakest. I don’t follow AUs and I’m not used to thinking in terms of AUs. I tried to study the Bad Boy AU a bit, but I couldn’t think of any funny jokes for it. Honestly, I just went with the first idea I finally thought of which was vaguely funny.

EXPLANATION:

This comic references a few of the “bad” things canon Star actually did:

1) Trash a cop car in Star vs Echo Creek

2) Shoot a cop chopper out of the sky in Sad Teen Hotline

3) Murder the MHC in Cleaved

But “nice” AU Star wouldn’t do that stuff, right? So Bad Boy Marco picks up the slack for her. So ... it’s funny? I dunno, I think my sense of humor is too obtuse a lot of the time. You really need to be in deep with the show to even remember the stuff I’m referencing and make the connections?

I guess either you “get it” or ... oh well.

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185220760531/starco-snugs

Haha, this one was “controversial”. I mean ... if you read my stuff then you know I think Star was addicted to the thrill of having both Marco and Tom, the same way Marco was addicted to the thrill of two timing with Star and Hekapoo (in Night Life). I think this was cute and tragi-comic, and it’s one of my favorite parts of Star Butterfly’s character. Let her have her distinctive flaws, okay?

But apparently this also cuts a bit too close to home, since it’s one of the things hardcore Tom stans criticize Star for (both the character and the show).

Anyways ... while everyone else was going sweet lovey-dovey, I went a bit freaky. I mean ... I think of this as romantic, but maybe I’m just weird that way. Like ... just imagine. Marco Diaz consoling Star every night for breaking up with Tom, and then he gets hit by “Mind Eraser” so he gets to do it again tomorrow. Isn’t that romantic?

EXPLANATION:

This comic is based on the “Mind Eraser” spell Eclipsa teaches Moon in Total Eclipsa the Moon. It’s one of my favorite spells to make jokes around, because it’s basically the flashy thing from Men in Black.

So I ponder ... what if Star really went all out using “Mind Eraser” and she went completely nuts taking advantage of it on Marco Diaz? Okay, in Here to Help, Star rushed to skip the awkward talky talky stuff and went straight for a kiss first. Maybe she’s used to it because she’s had the confession talk with Marco dozens of times already?

Oh, I also snuck in a joke referring to how Tom didn’t let Star kiss him on the lips after they broke up. As such, the only actual Tomstar kiss shown was the Lava Lake Beach kiss Marco saw from a distance. A bit mean to the Tomstar shippers, don’t you think?

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185256268271/when-is-this-state-going-to-end-starco-road

Road Trip was a challenge for me. I wanted to minimize drawing effort since my arm was sore, but I also wanted to depict a long amount of time. So I was thinking of them taking turns driving, but I switched to a bicycle based on Honey and Clover. Using a bicycle also allowed posing them in cute ways not available with a car, so it all worked out!

I was also thinking to try and cram in a joke about Star not being able to just use magic - using the Thor reaction gif to Steve Rogers not having the internet to look up the weather meme ... but ultimately it just didn’t fit. Also, I wanted to minimize drawing effort.

EXPLANATION:

Not much going on here - there’s really only one joke. But the cuteness of Star slumping on Marco really sells this one. Apparently, everyone else also thought so, since this ended up being pretty popular.

Oh, I suppose the sheer absurdity of doing an interstate bicycle trip eastward from the California coast is also a bit funny.

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185303660951/isaackuo-sword-fight-club-xover-double-fight

I initially struggled with this prompt. I mean ... crossover double date? It’s just weird to me. How do they even know each other? How did they meet? It makes no sense?

Well, a classic Douglas Adams writing trick is to take what you’re stuck on and turn it around. And so I did. How do they even know each other? THEY DON’T. It’s just some random “Fight Club App” meetup. Once I had that epiphany, it was a matter of figuring out what couple would be the funniest to fight ...

EXPLANATION:

I’m proud of all the jokes I packed in here. Of course, we start off with the fact that this “date” is a random “Fight Club App” thing. Not only that, but it’s a Sword Fight Club. Like that’s a thing. You’re just going to randomly fight some strangers with swords. Like you’re in freaking Highlander except there’s no Prize or whatever.

But it’s funny because getting into some random fights is indeed the sort of thing Star and Marco would do for a fun date! Same with Steven and Connie, really (although this is more along the lines of Steven and Amethyst wrt Tiger Millionaire).

Then there’s the fact that Marco Diaz wore baby Mariposa to a sword fight. Who even does that? Oh right ... Queen Solaria and Queen Eclipsa. Which fandom didn’t question at all ... we just thought it was cute.

Star’s “We’re fighting kids?” is a reference to Alone Together, when Kevin freaks out that Stevonnie is actually two kids.

Marco is okay with fighting a kid, since his Season 1 karate nemesis was 8 year old Jeremy Birnbaum (remember him?).

The slit eyes Mariposa give Steven are based on the way baby Meteora looks at Marco.

Connie’s right - Star and Marco are 15 ... not all that much older than she is. But Star has been through a lot of serious stuff making her grow up young. She has lost touch with what teenagers even do (as she noted in Cornonation).

Star’s shocked at Steven’s age the same way Connie was shocked when she learned Steven’s age.

Even though Steven’s age disconnect is caused by wibbly wobbly gem hybrid growth rates, Marco assumes it’s because he “Did time in the Neverzone”. I had fun rewording that phrase until it implied something like doing a prison sentence.

The final kicker is baby Mariposa revealing she’s almost as old as Connie. This calls up fandom mixed feelings about Neverzone age ambiguity and what the heck this implies after Gone Baby Gone. And I mean ... you all saw it coming, right? You knew baby Mariposa had to be there for a reason, right? It’s funny because you see it coming a mile away.

Needless to say, this one is the one I’m most proud of. I had so much fun writing and rewriting it in my head until it was perfect! The only bad thing is that you need to be pretty familiar with both Star vs the Forces of Evil and Steven Universe to get all the jokes. But hey ... my sense of humor is obtuse like that.

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185295564211/the-honey-moon-ball-starco-wedding-prompt

This was another tough one. I already blew my best wedding joke on Day 1, and I didn’t even notice there was a Wedding Day prompt at the time!

I struggled and struggled to come up with anything. So I just latched onto the first joke I came up with. In lieu of good jokes, I tried to sell this one with sweet cute character art showing Tom being dashing and Starco being lovey dovey. Still ... this is one of my weaker ones.

EXPLANATION:

Obviously this is based on the Blood Moon Ball/Curse, but this time Tom’s hitting them with a different curse - the Honey Moon Curse.

As we find out in Curse of the Blood Moon, Star didn’t pay attention to the MC and she thought the Blood Moon light was just a fun party light. So in this comic, she’s just obliviously caressing Marco while he questions what Tom means.

I initially thought of Tom explaining that he was confused about what Marco had previously meant when he said he wanted a “honeymoon”. But then, I thought it would be funnier if it’s simply ambiguous whether or not Tom is being spiteful or a silly practical joker or what. Sometimes it’s funnier when there’s a psychological tension - you don’t know what Tom’s thinking/feeling.

https://isaackuo.tumblr.com/post/185313724836/toy-star-starco-week-5-prompt-au-of-choice

Another one which was initially tough for me. I’m just not familiar with AUs, so I knew I’d have to make up my own. But what? Nothing clicked until ... TOY STORY! After that stroke of brilliance, there were too many ideas. The hard part was paring things down into a manageable short comic.

I’m most proud of the INSANE look of Princess Star tapping her Wand at Diaz. And also the Pony Head box for Princess Star.

Anyway, the great thing about Toy Star is that I didn’t need to fill in much detail in order for the reader to imagine a whole world around it. I mean ... we all know and love Toy Story. It’s part of our cultural consciousness. So it’s really easy to imagine some fun enemies-to-buddies story just from a few suggestions.

EXPLANATION:

The boxed Princess Star bonking Diaz off the bed is actually not quite how it happened in Toy Story. But close enough! (We don’t actually get to see the majesty of a boxed Buzz Lightyear until Toy Story 2.)

Princess Star has ball jointed arms similar to Buzz Lightyear while Diaz is a flexible stuffed doll like Woody. I left off “Butterfly” because “Princess Star” feels more self centered and self important.

Diaz is named “Diaz” just to make Jackie’s line sound more intimate and personal.

Mermaid Jackie is, of course, a reference to the popular fan theory that Jackie was a mermaid. This “Sunny Atlantis” mermaid is a reference to the Pixar short Knick Knack. She’s an aquarium decoration, rather than a toy. This is a reference to how Woody’s girlfriend Bo Peep was also not a toy (she was a lamp).

The mermaid in Knick Knack has shades rather than eyes. So that’s why mermaid Jackie is lifting up shades to look down toward Diaz.

The panel where Diaz is getting out from under Adam’s bed is directly based on a Toy Story screenshot. The original does have a cactus pictured on the bedspread. I thought it would be kinda funny if it’s ambiguous what sort of “cactuses” broke Diaz’s fall.

The “must be some mistake” panel is also directly based on a Toy Story screenshot.

Princess Star immediately trying to Narwhal Blast Diaz indicates she’s even crazier than Buzz Lightyear. Buzz merely shifted around pointing his laser arm at Woody. Oh - the “psycho” look in her face really sells this, I think.

The fact that Princess Star is somehow aware she has to tap the button on her wand to activate it is ... well I think it’s funny. (The button placement, of course, is plainly designed for human use.)

Princess Star requesting a nearby Quest Buy is a reference to Quest Buy, the episode where they go to Quest Buy to buy a wand charger. “Or do you still use Plutonium” is a reference to Buzz’s technobabble “distolic fusion” ... but I thought the use of real world “Plutonium” would give the joke a bit more kick (sort of a Back to the Future reference also).

Diaz answering “we’ve got double-A’s” is a reference to Toy Story where Woody says the same thing.

“Look, new friend,” is something Star Butterfly would say, but with a flat attitude more like Buzz Lightyear. This indicates Princess Star has a bit different personality than canon Star Butterfly. It fits in more with Toy Story, helping the reader imagine how this Starco relationship will play out.

“Multiverse High Command” is a mashup of “Magical High Commission” and “Star Command”. The threat of the multiverse being destroyed is something Queen Moon warns Star in Star Comes to Earth. The spiel where Princess Star explains her mission is similar to Buzz Lightyear explaining his mission. Presumably, it’s written on her Ponyhead box. Again, all this stuff helps the reader imagine how this Starco relationship will play out.

Diaz’s “You’re a toy” is, of course, a reference to Woody trying to explain to Buzz Lightyear that he’s just a toy.

“I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘Magical Princess from Another Dimension’“ refers to a similar Buzz Lightyear line, as well as how canon Star introduces herself to Marco Diaz in Star Comes to Earth.

But really ... there are SO many memorable Toy Story lines that cramming in references is like shooting fish in a barrel. Too easy! But still fun!

Of all the silly ideas I put out there for Starco Week 5, Toy Star is perhaps the one which has gotten some interest. It’s begging to be fleshed out. I welcome anyone to do whatever they want with it!

And again, a big thanks to everyone who read my stuff, followed, reblogged, and such! Especially, of course, @starco-week

[asleepinawell]

Things That Go Bang In The Night

Shoot Haunted House fic for halloween, except not really scary at all and mostly silly. Arranged as a series of shorts, or incidents as the case may be.

Based very loosely in my chaos au, but the only thing you need to know is it’s post-samaritan and shoot are a firmly established relationship at this point.

_________________

Nighttime Disturbances

John is cooking an aggressive amount of pancakes when Root comes downstairs. Root looks at the heaping plates full of breakfast food on the counter of the surprisingly modern kitchen and then at the dark circles under John's eyes and manages not to laugh. She does, however, smile ever so slightly and John's eye twitches just a fraction.

Shaw is the next to show up, wearing a shirt Root thinks might actually belong to her, but the mutual clothing-theft has gotten to the point where it's basically irrelevant. Shaw looks at John and John glares at Shaw and Shaw smirks for all she's worth. She takes two overflowing plates of pancakes, tucks a bottle maple syrup in the crook of her arm and secures a seat for herself at the big stone table in the kitchen. She looks at her plates for a few seconds and then shuffles the pancakes around with a fork until all but three are on one plate. The smaller helping gets pushed over in front of Root.

By the time John joins them at the table, Shaw has eaten half her pancakes, but she still eyes the plate of bacon and eggs he has. He puts a protective arm around his plate before he starts in.

Root waits until he’s drinking his orange juice before asking, innocently, “Did you sleep well, John?”

She's disappointed when he doesn't spit out his drink, but he does scowl at her around his glass.

Fusco shows up before John can answer and collapses into a vacant chair.

“Boy, when you said this place was haunted, you weren't joking.”

Root does not smile even a little bit. Shaw stuffs more pancakes in her mouth, a look of intense concentration on her face. On the other side of the table, John is grimacing.

Fusco doesn't seem to notice. “Creaks and bangs all night and ghostly moans. I don't think I got a wink of sleep.”

Root adjusts the collar of her shirt a little and she sees John's eyes narrow when he focuses in on the movement.

“Maybe we should attempt an exorcism tonight,” he says. “Pour some cold holy water all over the ghosts when they start being a nuisance.”

Fusco's forehead wrinkles in confusion. “I thought that was for vampires.” He gets up to investigate the pancake situation. “You really cooked a lot of these, huh?”

“I had trouble sleeping. For some reason.”

Root is done with her breakfast, but Shaw's still going strong. Root watches her stuff her cheeks like a squirrel preparing for winter.

“You two hear anything?” Fusco asks.

Root pretends not be watching John out of the corner of her eye. “Not that I can recall.”

“Funny. It was really loud. I was scared out of my mind. Spent the whole night pointing my gun at the door.”

“Do bullets even work on ghosts?” Shaw asks, her mouth momentarily pancake-free. “Silver bullets maybe?”

“That's werewolves,” Root corrects and Shaw shrugs as if defense against the supernatural is not an extremely important topic.

“I'm sorry we missed the excitement,” Root says. “I rather enjoy things that go bump in the night.” The eyebrow waggle might be a little too much, but she can't help herself.

John stands up, maybe just a little too fast.

“I'm going to go explore the rest of the house.”

_________________

Cleaning out the Attic

“Still don't see why we have to do this,” Shaw grumbles after she recovers from another sneezing fit. Everything here is covered with a thick layer of dust and it feels like her lungs are full of it, and Root has it even worse with the sneezing and itchy eyes. What a dumb mission.

“She thought it would be nice for all of us to get out of the city for a few days,” Root calls from the other side of the room. The boxes here are stacked high enough that Shaw can't see her over them.

“She could have given us an actual vacation then, not digging through moldy paperwork in a drafty old house in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

Root pops her head around the nearest stack of boxes. There's dust in her hair, a grey smudge across one of her cheeks, and she's wearing a shirt with an overly cute little ghost on it that says 'hey boo-tiful’. Shaw shouldn't think she looks hot like that. She blames it on the boredom. And on the glasses which she knows Root doesn't need for this but she's wearing anyway as some sort of attack on Shaw's sanity.

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, sweetie?” Root's practically leering at her now which looks really dorky with her wearing that shirt.

Shaw drops a stack of paper onto the floor and brushes her hands off. “We can do that anywhere. Preferably somewhere warmer with room service.”

“But we'd be missing out on the added bonus of messing with the boys.” Root prods the stack of papers. “Nothing in these?”

“Not unless she's interested in a detailed hand-written accounting of how much it costs to redo the roof like eighty years ago.”

Root taps her lower lip with one finger. “Hmmm.”

“You can't be serious.”

Root shrugs helplessly. “She says you never know what She might need some day.”

Shaw has been basically over the Machine's new data collecting obsession since it started three months ago. She can acknowledge that there is a ton of information and history out in the world that's never been digitized and that some small fraction of it might help the Machine help humanity, but this is ridiculous.

The Machine can hardly rely on just them to dig up every paper document in the city, let alone in the world, and Shaw suspects she has a lot of people working for her without them realizing what their employer is. They get sent on occasional random missions though, most of which are horribly dull and involve a lot of sorting through paper and not a lot of knee-capping.

“If she really is going to want every single piece of paper in this house, she should say that and we can get a bigger van and just cram everything in there and let someone else sort it out.” Shaw has Claire still working on scanning in the thousands of pages from their last little trip, and that had been months ago.

“Afraid that's not the mission, Shaw.” Root prods the half-full box in front of Shaw meaningfully with one long finger. “And how often do you get to stay in one of the most haunted houses on the east coast?”

“I'd think New England would be lousy with the things.” Shaw takes in Root's expression, gauging her options. She knows she can get out of this, but she's got to approach it the right way. “Anyway, it's not like we've seen any ghostly activity here. Scariest thing to happen was that kale disaster Reese made for dinner last night.” Reese is a decent enough cook, but there are sometimes lapses in his judgment.

“Maybe we'll get lucky and see something spooky tonight since John exiled us to the east wing. It's supposed to be where most of the haunting has taken place historically.”

Reese had half-ordered, half-begged them to move to the other wing, and while Shaw doesn't take orders from him, she’s decided to be merciful. Most rooms in the house are huge and empty which lends it some interesting acoustics and, well, Root never was much of one for keeping quiet. Which brings Shaw back to her current mission to get out of sorting papers.

“You know,” Shaw says, shifting her weight to move herself a little closer to Root, “we could get lucky right now.”

The Machine must really want these damn papers because Root actually hesitates, but Shaw knows Root has no defense against a smooth come-on like that. She bites her lower lip (an unfair move) and sees Root's already-weak defenses crumble away in a flash.

“Attics are notoriously haunted,” Root says thoughtfully. “Might as well give this one a reputation.”

There's paper carpeting the attic floor by the time they're both worn out, some of which the Machine is probably going to yell at them for irrevocably damaging, but it's so worth it.

Root rolls over in the nest of scattered papers, looking for her shirt, and picks up a paper instead.

“This is about that kid that died here.” Root hands the paper over to her. “He was found drowned in a bathtub in the east wing. Everyone suspected his older sister, but no one could ever prove it.”

Shaw looks over the paper. It's got a clipping from a newspaper attached to it talking about the death of some kid called Phillip. She vaguely remembers Root talking about the whole thing on the drive up here. Supposedly the kid's ghost haunts the house and grounds and once drowned a gardener in one of the fountains on the lawn.

“Does the Machine care about stuff that's clearly just superstition?”

Root gets up and pulls her shirt back on, much to Shaw's disappointment. “She cares about how humans react to death and grief and fear, so in that sense, yes.”

“What about you? Do you believe in ghosts, Root?” Shaw teases.

“No.” Root smiles, but it's one of those hard, cold smiles, not one of the happy ones. “Ghosts tend to haunt people who wronged them during their life, right?”

“I guess?” She thinks there's something with loved ones getting haunted too, but she's hardly an expert on these things.

“If anyone was going to have been haunted…” Root trails off and shrugs. “So the odds are against them existing.”

Shaw rolls her eyes, because of course Root's ego would dictate that if she hasn't seen a ghost no one could have.

Root offers her a hand up off the floor. “What about you, Sameen?”

“Most things people take to be ghostly activity can be explained by quantifiable, scientific means. People are always blaming things they can't explain on the supernatural. It's lazy.”

Root grins and leans in so her face is right near Shaw's. “So what will you do when the ghost of little Phillip comes wailing down the hall to drown you in the tub?”

Shaw headbutts her gently in the face. “Any ghost shows up, I'll punch its ethereal teeth in, okay?”

Root backs up, clearly amused, and then glances around at the mess they'd made. “I think we should try the library. We can let Lionel finish up with the attic.”

“He'll love that.” Shaw hasn't been looking forwards to cleaning up the mess they made. She looks around the paper-covered floor one last time and then follows Root back down into the main house.

_________________

The Face in the Fountain

It's cold outside and Root wishes she'd brought a jacket, but the house and grounds are so large that going back for one would take at least twenty minutes. It might be worth it, except she's really tired and doesn't want to budge from the edge of the fountain she's perched on. The house has an unfortunate number of steps and she's been lugging boxes up and down them for the last day.

From out here she's got a pretty good view of the entire house. It's a massive thing, built out of grey and brown bricks with dark, empty windows lining every side. There's two distinct wings coming off the main house: the west wing which juts out onto the front lawn at a right angle from the rest of the house, and the east wing which, inexplicably, does the reverse and sticks out into the woods behind the house.

The front lawn has a few pathways across the overgrown grass, all in poor repair, and a handful of crumbling, ornamental fountains full of brackish water, including the one Root's sitting on. The back lawn has what was once a hedge maze but is now an impassable wall of brambles that the forest is hurrying to reclaim.

Shaw is running laps around the front lawn. Root figures she's working out the frustration of being stuck here for a week with no one to shoot. Shaw pauses next to the fountain on her next lap.

“You don't have to wait for me out here if you're cold.”

“I don't mind.” There's no easy way to watch Shaw work out back in the city, but here she can watch the full length of every lap Shaw runs and discreetly take pictures with her phone.

“Probably shouldn't stay by these things too long anyway.” Shaw peers into the murky water in the fountain with distaste. “Who knows what sort of shit's growing in there.”

Root looks in as well, but other than a distorted reflection of herself she can't see much.

“Maybe breathing in spores from whatever's growing in this toxic sludge is where all the ghost stories come from in the first place,” Shaw says. She drops a large rock in and it vanishes below the surface with a sploop noise. Ripples run across the surface of the water further distorting Root's reflection and stirring up the mud from the bottom. Something moves in the murky depths.

Root jerks back from the water and falls off the edge of the fountain to land on the ground.

“Root?”

Shaw looks at her like she's gone nuts and Root takes a second to get her breathing back under control before she answers.

“I didn't want to get splashed.” She gets back to her feet and tries to brush the dirt off, but the lawn was still damp from the rain last night so her pants are pretty much hopeless.

“It didn't even splash.” Shaw peers at the water as if she's expecting to find some other cause.

Root keeps her distance from the fountain. “We should head back inside and get changed before dinner.”

“Guess so.”

Root resolutely doesn't look back as they head up to the house for dinner. She knows it was just her imagination combined with reading stories of this place, but she can't quite shake the image of a corpse-pale face floating under the water, it's glassy eyes opened wide and staring at the sky.

_________________

The Face in the Fountain (continued)

They eat all their meals in the kitchen because the dining room is enormous, dusty, poorly lit, and even Shaw can admit it's a bit creepy. The kitchen is more than large enough and one of the few mostly clean rooms in the house. It should be a nice, friendly team dinner, but Fusco is exhausted and freaked out from the ‘ghost activity’ the previous evening, Reese is still sulking, and Root has been quiet since they came in for dinner. Shaw isn't sure what's up with her, but she figures it's nothing Root's going to open up about with the other two here.

After dinner they have to get their bags from their rooms to move to the east wing. Shaw brings a flashlight along since the electricity here seems to have a mind of its own and the wiring in the east wing is supposedly even worse. She thinks about calling the whole thing off and staying in the west wing, but she knows she'd get shit from Reese about being scared of ghosts if she did.

She briefly reconsiders again though because Root is still acting weird and making sure Root is okay is more important than not being teased by Reese, but Root doesn't seem to have any issue with switching wings. Still, she knows something is still up because Root doesn't hit on her once during the walk over and she's being all jumpy. Maybe she should have brought Bear along after all.

The rooms here are larger and probably had been nicer once upon a time, but now they're mostly dusty and full of covered furniture. The cleaning service the Machine had sent here ahead of time had salvaged a few bedrooms in both wings so there's a few habitable ones the choose from. Root opts for the smallest and Shaw doesn't argue because the rooms here are unreasonably large.

She waits until they climb into bed for the night before she tries to get an explanation out of Root.

“You've been quiet.”

Root murmurs something in response but it's muffled by her pillow. Shaw speaks evasive-Root-tactics well enough by this point that she can figure out by the pitch of Root's voice that she's brushing off the question. Shaw might have pushed further normally, but she's tired from lugging boxes of papers up and down stairs all day so she settles for rolling over closer to Root and dropping her arm over her. Root puts her hand over Shaw's and settles in.

Shaw isn't sure what wakes her up in the middle of the night, but she's suddenly wide awake and Root isn't next to her anymore. An unnecessarily dramatic flash of lightning from outside shows her that the other half of the bed is empty.

She figures Root probably just went to the bathroom, but the whole creepy house situation seems to merit her checking just in case. The bathroom is empty and Shaw stops back in her room to grab a flashlight before looking any further. Root took her slippers with her, she notes, so it wasn't like she ran out in a panic.

There's only a few places in the house they've all spent any amount of time in. She knows Root wouldn't go to the library since the extreme amount of dust there had caused her the sneezing fits that had sent them outside earlier that day. She wouldn't have a reason to go back to the room they'd stayed in previously, and a quick check of the main entrance hall has it full of shadowy corners but empty of Root. So that leaves the kitchen.

Root's sitting on the counter in the dark eating ice cream out of the container. Her hair is back in a messy ponytail and her bunny slippers are on her dangling feet. Shaw admits that she's maybe a tiny bit relieved by the sight even though she hadn't really thought anything bad had happened.

“I couldn't sleep,” Root says by way of explanation.

There's another flash of lightning outside followed by a peal of thunder and then it starts pouring. Raindrops hammer on the windows.

Root's face lights up in glee.

“Thunderstorm in a haunted house. Another item to cross off the bucket list.”

At least she seems to be in a better mood now even if she is working her way through their entire supply of ice cream. Shaw tries to rescue the remains of the pint, but Root loops her stupidly long legs around her and traps her there up against the counter. Root holds a large spoon of ice cream up and pushes it at Shaw’s face and no way is Shaw letting herself be fed like a child even if it is ice cream.

She ends up with ice cream smeared across her face before she escapes from Root's hold. The whole thing is extremely undignified and she's glad Reese isn't here to see it. She might discreetly wipe the remaining ice cream off her face with one hand and then lick it off her fingers, but there's no proof.

“Are you done now?” she asks, still indignant, but somewhat mollified by the delicious chocolate goodness.

Root evaluates her almost empty ice cream carton. “I suppose so.”

The ice cream goes back in the fridge and they walk back together by the light of Shaw's flashlight. Root seems okay now, but Shaw is still curious about earlier. She doesn't like it when she doesn't know why Root's upset, and if she doesn't find out what caused this round how can she prevent it next time?

“Did you see something when we were outside?” she asks as they cross the entrance hall. “In the fountain?” That's when this had started.

Root makes a small hmph noise. “Ghosts aren't real.”

“You saw a ghost out there?”

“Obviously I couldn't have since they're not real.” Root's tone is a bit condescending which Shaw takes as an improvement.

“Sure, but there could have been a dead animal or who knows what else in there. We can go take another look tomorrow if you want.”

“Yes, maybe that's just the thing.”

The way Root says it is maybe a bit ominous, but Shaw is glad enough that Root’s in a better mood that she doesn't read into it too much.

The next morning Root is already up and gone when Shaw wakes up. Shaw heads down to the kitchen and after a few very pointed hints from Reese makes a detour to the front lawn.

There is a huge truck parked on the front lawn. And a bulldozer.

Definitely suspicious.

Shaw goes back inside and gets coffee before investigating further because asking her to deal with Root's shenanigans without caffeine is cruel. When she gets over to the truck she sees some workers have a huge black hose running into the fountain Root had been sitting on yesterday and are draining it. Root stands nearby watching over the proceedings.

“When I said we could take another look…” Shaw trails off.

Root beams at her. “It was a great suggestion, so I figured I'd get right on it.”

“Right.”

The workers at the fountain wave them over. One of them points at something in the bottom of the drained basin. Shaw goes over to look and there, nestled in the wet weeds and filth, is the most repugnant looking baby doll she's ever seen. It's face is ghostly white and cracked and its glossy black eyes are wide and gaping like a fish's. If there'd been hair on it once it’s long gone now and most of the body is crushed.

“This what you saw yesterday?” Shaw can understand why seeing that bob up under the water might be disturbing, especially given the setting and the whole gardener-drowned-in-the-fountain story.

Root has a nasty glint in her eyes. “Unimportant now.”

She steps back from the fountain and waves an arm at the woman driving the bulldozer. Shaw sees where this is going and retreats to a safe distance. She'd ask Root if destroying the fountain is strictly necessary, but she already knows the answer she'd get and anyway Root just looks so pleased with herself and it's kind of endearing.

It's a weird sort of morning, she thinks. She's standing on the lawn of a haunted mansion wearing her boxers and a hoodie and Root's bright pink flip flops and drinking coffee out of a mug with a cartoon penguin on it. Root's next to her watching the bulldozer demolish the fountain with a look of intense satisfaction on her face. Her clothing situation isn't much better, though she at least managed to put on pants. She's got a new shirt Shaw hasn't before yet that says ‘ghouls just wanna have fun’ on it (Shaw is sensing a theme here) and an oversized flannel that Shaw thinks she might have stolen from one of their recent numbers and is barefoot much to Shaw's horror.

“Can I have a sip of that?” Root asks as the bulldozer backs up to make another pass at the ruined fountain.

“No,” Shaw says and hands her the mug.

“Thanks, Sameen.”

_________________

The Monster in the Conservatory

Fusco is red-faced and out of breath when he comes running into the lounge.

“It's...it's in the…” He pauses panting for breath.

Root waits politely for him to finish. Or leave. She's not picky.

“In the conservatory,” Fusco manages to get out.

Root sets down the ornamental dagger she's been considering accidentally acquiring for herself. “What is?”

“M-monster.” Fusco collapses into a mildewed arm chair.

Shaw peeks around the door frame from the next room. “What sort of monster?”

“Big...angry…teeth…”

“Evil dentures in the greenhouse sounds like a John problem,” Root says and ducks down to open the cabinet under the table.

“I want to fight the monster,” Shaw says. Her tone allows for no arguments.

Root can't not watch that so she gives up on robbing the place and follows Shaw. They pick up John from the smoking room along the way and head, not to the main entrance to the conservatory, but upstairs to the walkway entrance.

The conservatory is relatively newer than the rest of the house, a two story greenhouse built out of thick sheets of glass to let the sunlight in. There's a walkway on the second level of it that's accessible via a small staircase in the conservatory or an actual door from the second floor of the main house.

Shaw pauses as they near the door and reaches behind one of the creepy statues that line the hallways to pull out...a sniper rifle.

Root is impressed and slightly turned on. Maybe more than slightly. She wonders how many guns Shaw has hidden all over the house now.

“Let's see what this monster is,” Shaw says and pushes the door open.

The air inside smells awful, like rotten plants and soil and Root wrinkles her nose in disgust. Left untended, everything in the conservatory has either died or spread out to overtake all the other plants. There's vines and small trees below them and it looks a little like a jungle.

Shaw holds a finger up to her lips and then drops down to her hands and knees on the metal walkway to peer down into the forest below. Root looks over the edge of the railing, but nothing catches her eye. Maybe Fusco was imagining things.

Shaw smacks her on the leg and points and sure enough there's some leaves and branches rustling in the far corner. At first Root thinks it must be a squirrel, but it's pretty clearly something much larger. Maybe a deer?

All three of them watch the greenery closely as the shaking foliage gets nearer and nearer to the center of the room. Their quarry bursts out of the leaves and raises its large face to gaze up at them and sniff the air.

“Not a monster after all,” Reese says as they watch their new companion yawn hugely and show off its massive teeth and pink tongue.

“She's beautiful,” Shaw says softly, her voice full of wonder that's usually reserved for dogs.

Root isn't sure ‘beautiful’ is the word she'd use for the massive black bear munching on things in their house, but Shaw's obvious delight is adorable. Root, however, now feels totally justified in her previous caution about bears as those teeth are very large and its paws look impossibly huge. She's glad they're up high.

“There's a broken pane in the back,” Reese says. “She must have wandered in looking for food.”

Shaw frowns. “I hope she didn't step on any of the glass. Maybe we should check…”

Root is about to ask just how she plans to do that, but John seems to be one step ahead of her.

“We are not tranqing the bear, Shaw.”

Shaw actually pouts, lower lip stuck out like a child.

“But she might be hurt.”

They all watch the enormous bear stand up on its hind legs to rip a branch off a little tree. The walkway is high enough that she couldn't ever reach them, but it's still intimidating.

Shaw sighs. “Fine.” She sits down with her legs dangling over the side. Root figures she's staying until the bear gets safely away. She's torn between wanting to stay and watch Shaw watch the bear and going back to investigate the possibility of further fancy weaponry in need of a new owner.

Staying with Shaw wins out easily in the end. They sit side by side with their legs hanging off the walkway watching the bear snort and huff its way around the floor. Shaw's theory is there was some sort of fruit tree or berry bush down there and the bear is searching the ground for leftovers. Shaw takes the scope off her rifle so she can watch it close up.

After about an hour, the bear must run out of food because it lumbers back out the broken pane (Shaw watches with concern) and back into the woods at the edge of the property.

“I hope she's okay.”

“She'll be fine, Sameen.” It's sweet the way Shaw worries about some things so much, often things (people, animals) that no one else seems to care about. “Should we rip your clothes a bit and mess up your hair so we can tell Fusco the tale of your epic battle against the greenhouse monster?”

“No clothes ripping.”

Root could say several somethings about the hypocrisy of that, but she doesn't want to discourage Shaw from future over-enthusiastic clothing removals.

“We should make it look good though,” Shaw says and offers her a hand up. “Guess you'll need to give me a hand with that.”

“My pleasure.”

_________________

The Ghost of the East Wing

Root has to admit that the east wing of the house has a good, spooky atmosphere. There's scorch marks on some of the walls from a fire that partially burned down the wing years ago (the stories have it that you can still smell the smoke in the air, but Root has yet to smell anything other than mildew), and all the furniture is under white sheets. The wind howls through the cracks and rattles the windows enough to be irritating and make the whole place chilly. And then there's the fact the forest has grown in thick around this wing so there's nothing but dark woods outside the windows.

But the heating works well enough to keep the place comfortable and she's got Shaw as an extra heater, so it could be much worse.

Shaw whines in protest when Root sticks her cold feet up against her leg to warm them up. It's a cute enough noise that Root pulls her feet back and pushes them up against Shaw's other leg to see if she can get a repeat.

What she actually gets is socked in the face with a pillow.

It takes a few minutes of shuffling around before they're both comfortable enough to drift off and Root is so worn out from all the excitement of the day that she falls asleep quickly and doesn't wake up again until Shaw shakes her by the shoulder.

“Hhzzmhh?” Root asks. It's pitch black and she's still tired.

Shaw lays a finger across her lips to shush her and tilts her head to one side as if listening. Root goes as quiet as she can, barely breathing, and focuses on every little noise the house is making.

Footsteps. Those are definitely footsteps, and they're coming closer down the creaky floorboards of the hall.

Shaw rolls out of bed and drops to the floor in a crouch. Root knows for a fact that there's no way to move across the floor in this room without the floorboards making a racket, and yet Shaw is completely silent.

The footsteps are getting closer, and even though Root knows that ghosts don't exist and that the house isn't really haunted, she still feels a slight twist of fear in her stomach. She grabs her taser off the nightstand since Shaw has a gun already and if somehow she's been wrong all these years and ghosts really do exist, then maybe an electric current will be more effective against them than a bullet.

The door bursts open and there's a tall, formless white figure in the hallway.

“OoooOOOooooo,” it moans.

Root sighs. He wasn't even trying very hard, was he?

Shaw leaps up from where she was crouched next to the door and socks the ghost squarely in where it's face would be.

“Oww!” the ghost yells.

Shaw kicks it in the leg and slams into it so it falls over, twisted in its own sheet.

Root gingerly climbs out of bed and winces when her feet hit the bare floor. She tests the power on her taser as she moves towards the fallen ghost. Sure, she knows it's John, but he doesn't know that she knows so who could blame her for defending herself?

It's hours before anyone gets back to sleep.

_________________

Reassignment

Shaw wakes up to the news that they've been taken off the mission and are to return to the city immediately. She'd sort of been hoping to see the bear again, but otherwise she's pretty glad to get out of this place.

The list of reasons Root gives for their sudden departure is hard to argue with. The many incidents the Machine took issue with include: destruction of valuable historical documents, destruction of historic architecture, petty larceny, grand larceny, discussion of unsafe animal handling techniques (Shaw rolls her eyes at that one), excessive sneezing on valuable books, using historical stone gargoyles as target practice, attempted assault on an asset with a non-lethal weapon, and successful unarmed assault of an asset leading to a mild injury.

It's an impressive list and Shaw figures it's no wonder she feels so tired.

Reese is loading the car when she gets outside. He still isn't speaking to her and is holding an ice pack to his bruised jaw. Really he should be grateful she'd stopped Root from tasing him. It's not their fault he decided to try and scare them and they're hardly to blame for retaliating.

Root is a little sad they're leaving early and still sulking about missing out on a good tasing, but she seems eager to get back home as well. She steals the passenger’s seat before either of the boys can try to claim it.

Fusco is grumpy despite being the only one to have gotten a full night's sleep. “Next time you three need help, don't call me.”

Reese broods intensely in the back seat.

“Guess it'll just be you and me for the next haunted house,” Root says.

Shaw considers pointing out that basically every single strike against them from the Machine was either her or Root's fault (though Reese had brought that slug in the jaw on himself), and that the chances of either of them ever being sent on a similar mission are slim to none.

“I think we're scarier than a bunch of ghosts,” she says instead.

Root looks quite pleased with that response and begins listing off directions to get them back to the highway and out of this desolate area. Shaw starts the car down the driveway, the slightly-more-decrepit-than-they'd-found-it house in her rearview mirror.

[snakesonanoilrig]

Important update

Today my brother (13 y/o) and his friends were almost in a school shooting when a student reported their friend’s intentions to a teacher. A lot of my inspiration to do this comic comes from watching the often melodramatic and silly dynamics and antics of him and his closest friends (who are CONSTANTLY at my house sleeping over). I’m pretty upset and shaken up over what happened, as bratty or insensitive as he might be sometimes he’s my brother and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

I don’t know what else to say it just. I felt like I should post something. This comic is overall supposed to be light and fun and I’ve enjoyed every moment of it. As wacky and over the top and violent as the source material is I want this comic to be ‘safe’. Topics like school shootings and rape are not laughing matters and won’t be handled here, I’ve experienced and seen too much of both in my short life time to find a speck of humor. While I do want this comic to have it’s more somber and darker moments know I am sensitive to and aware of the realities of the outside world and will tread lightly and tag respective triggers always.

While I’m writing this, the topic of child/adolescent abuse has been brought to my attention as a possible concern in my writing styles. Yes. This comic does follow in its contemporaries in terms of children and teens doing things and getting into situations no reasonable parent would ever allow for. At times parental figures will even be antagonistic for mostly comedic purposes (I don’t think anyone would WANT me to write Huey as a good father to begin with) I am always open to talk about these portrayals however I am very open about what I WILL NOT portray

Child molestion

Rape

Sexual content around underage characters*

Physical abuse or corporal punishment

Gore

Domestic abuse

Suicide

Alcoholism

*in my next comic coming out later in the month there is a very mild masturbation joke. For those I’ve shown a preview to, this is the most risqué the high school AU comic is going to get. I’ve known people who have done high school AUs or comics with sexualized content. It’s a dangerous slippery slope I’m not touching.

**the only notable ‘exception’ to this is a planned comic involving BB, Ocelot, and Kaz attending a health/sex Ed class. The joke doesn’t go further than anatomy and personal education. But by most people’s judgement a teen boy saying ‘fallopian tubes’ or ‘testes’ is not exactly juicy sexual content. This comic may be scrapped.

[thedappleddragon]

ugh im big stupid and haven't been posting my shit here for a while. I've still been typing it out in my notes, I just havent transferred them onto here lol. im putting it all under the cut, don't worry

Today was pretty dang nice! I spent a little time outside because it was nice and warm out, I drew a little in my sketchbook and digitally rendered a picture of Anna’s new princess outfit, ran an errand with my mom to pick up a graphing calculator and a pack of soda, ate some Wendy’s, and did a lot of sewing for my dress! I joined the bodice lining and exterior, and did a little over half of the sewing for the skirt. I’m doing French seams so there’s no raw edges on the inside, so I still have to iron it and go over the second round of stitches. My machine malfunctioned for a moment with the thread tangling up in the lower bobbin thingy, so I left it alone for like an hour and it fixed itself lol. I’m very happy with how the bodice came out after clipping all the extra fabric in the corners and test fitting it. I think it’ll be great when it’s done!! Although I may or may not need to seam rip a little bit of the skirt to extend the zipper down so I can get it over my fuckin DUMPTRUCK when putting it on. Right now there’s enough stretch to put it on, but Idk how well that’ll stay after attaching the 2 pieces. Also it might end up making me look fat/preggo in the end with how the skirt lays lmao. I also did a really quick test fit with the sleeves, and I might actually like it better sleeveless? I’ll put one on anyway and go from there to see which I like better. HOORAY this dress has pockets!! But I may have put them a little low lol. I wanted to do a big dress debut at prom, but turns out graduates aren’t allowed due to covid restrictions :( so that really sucks. But we’re still gonna hang out a little bit beforehand, and I can still do a debut. I made a little bow out of some scrap dress fabric, which I want to put in my hair for pre-prom. I think I’ll braid my hair, maybe get some fake flowers from dollar tree and ribbon to add somehow, and put the ribbon either at the bottom or the top, wherever the hair tie eventually goes. I’m so exited to work on it more. I’m kinda running out of white thread tho so I’ll have to get more. Later in the evening i got hungry and made ramen while my dad and I watched a documentary on some of the horrible shit that went on all around the world during 2020, some of which I had forgotten about, some that was really surreal and out of a dystopian movie, and some stuff that was just upsetting to watch. It was still pretty good tho. I got work tomorrow and I’m really sleepy even tho it’s only 12:30 so I think I’m gonna grab a snack and go to sleep soon. Gnight mwah

Yesterday I worked and sewed until I ran out of thread and drew a little bit. Spent most of my shift watering flowers, then I went home and ate for a moment, then watered more and picked dead flowers and talked about avatar and other animated shows with the highschool girl I work with. Came home and hung out for a while, that evening made some good pasta. 

Today I justly hung out, then went with mom to pick up a bookshelf and went through strawtown which I thought was a very funny name for a town. There was a cute antique shop in there tho. On the way back we stopped in a sewing shop called Always in stitches. I expected it to be a very small shop, but it was SO much bigger than I thought it would be. They had tons of fabric and quilting supplies, and lots of old ladies working and talking. I picked up a cone of white thread and a fabric sample pack. Then I sewed my dress a little bit. I still have lots to do, and only like 2.5 days to do it. I’ll get there tho. All I have to do is add the skirt hem, add the pockets back in (I took them out so I could see them in normally), add sleeves and hem them, and add the zipper. And attach the skirt to the bodice. I think I’ll be able to do it. I had yogurt for the first time in forever today. Tbh I used just enough to hold together the strawberry and granola bits kgelgskgs. It was pretty good tho. I drew ELEVEN pages in my sketchbook, about 8 of them being a comic about the pony au of our royalty au. I could have done the comic with human characters but ponies are so much easier to draw aggsssdh. I spent 40 minutes typing out the dialogue and editing it on top of the rest of the comic so my friend could read it, but she still hasn’t read my text :( oh well that’s fine lol. The original plot was supposed to be Sam talking to an accidental illusion of me being mean about her blight, but then I accidentally made it something different. I might just draw the alternate ending instead. Update I just did

Yesterday I sewed and went to Menards to buy tile for moms bathroom.

Today was VERY productive, I feel like. I woke up and immediately took a shower and did laundry. I spent some one just sitting on my bed scrolling and researching while listening to medieval remixes of songs lol. At some point I went out to buy subway for everyone and stopped at dollar tree for nail polish and satin ribbon. I made the ribbon into a little choker and wanted to use it for the hem of the skirt, but I was too short. In total I spent HOURS hemming and pinning and seam ripping and ironing and sewing today, but it’s still not done. I gotta kick my ass into high gear if it’s gone be done by Sunday afternoon. I started sewing the bottom hem, but my machine has been doing this weird thing where the fabric scrunches up right past the sewing foot and leaves wrinkles and gathers so loose I can move it around with my hands easily. I think it’s just my tension being too tight or something, I adjusted it a bit and I’ll test it in the morning. I’m too tired and it’s too late at night to be doing that much sewing. I seam ripped the entire back skirt seam so I could extend the zipper a little further down, and I’ll sew it back up once the hem is done. After that all I need to donis connect the skirt to the bocice, fix the zipper, and hem the arm holes. I don’t want to use the sleeves I made because the edges don’t line up at all and I don’t think I would be able to lift my arms, the way it’s built. The nail polish I picked up works way better than I thought it would, leaving a pretty good metallic sheen after just one coat. Way better than I thought for a dollar. I helped mom lay down tile a little bit, ripping up one old tile and helping a bit at a time throughout the day. I kept asking if she wanted help with the actual tiling part but she said no. We also couldn’t get the fuckin box cutter I bought to work. It’s supposed to be easy to replace the blade, but we couldn’t figure it out lol. I’m falling asleep fun. Washed my face twice, trying to take good care of myself before prom so I look good in photos. Gotta wash hair tomorrow. Made hamburger meat

Spent all day sewing and listening to bardcore remixes. Dress is as done as I bother to make it rn

Tbh I was hoping for a little more for today. I’ve spent the last like week or longer working towards this, and going especially in depth the past 3 days. I got all silky smooth, worked for hours on my dress, thought about pretty much nothing except prom day. I was late because my dad had my neighbor come over to take pictures of me in my dress. I thought it was just going to be her holding my dad’s phone to get a picture of us together, but she brought her whole ass professional camera and spent several minutes taking pictures. Then I took the weirdest way possible to get to my friend’s house on accident because google maps said it was the fastest way to get there. But HEY when I did get there I enjoyed hanging out with my friends. We ate some dinner AND??? Sammie I’m sorry if you’re reading this but THE MASHED POTATOES?? WERE S O BLAND????? AFAJSTSTHJST ily but girl. Just a little salt could have gone a long way <3 the steak and especially the green bean casserole were good tho :) dinner was good with the sparkling juice and little desert. Overall everything was just very loud, but that’s to be expected when this is everyone’s first time seeing each other in a goddamn while: actually I think they’ve all seen each other at school without me but hey whatever. I think I fucked up my phone screen on accident by sitting on it while it was in my pocket with my keys, leaving a spiderweb crack in it. I checked and yeah it’s not just the screen protector :( eh I don’t care that much, It didn’t fuck up the lcd screen or anything. We went up to Sam’s room and hung out and talked while she did Liz’s makeup and took pictures, and I borrowed a little of her concealer before photos. There was a little photo shoot in their front yard, and looking at the photos I look a little fat in them but I LOVE all the photos taken in Sam’s room where we were all just hanging out. Idk why but whenever you have to do photos and they say to do a silly one, it never turns out good, but the fun ones you casually take always turn out way better. They’re more genuine :) but then it was time for everyone to go to prom and for me to go home 😔 we only hung out for like an hour and a half. I didn’t want to take off my dress, seeing as I put in so much effort to sew the whole dress and shave and look pretty, so I wore it around the house for a bit until I got tired and went to lay in bed. I watched the mitchels vs the machines, which is a fuckin DELIGHTFUL movie!! Everybody go watch it it’s so cute <3 I also played some Pokémon and watched a little YouTube in bed, but feeling unfulfilled and wanting to do something different, I just didn’t know what. So instead I started typing this up as my sister brought me a cupcake from prom :) I had a bite and put the rest in the fridge, since it was so big and in a plastic container. I texted a friend over Snapchat asking if they had fun at prom, and they said it was kinda ass. I tried relating and saying yeah all school dances are a little ass, and my friend group once had anti prom and played dnd instead, but they just said ‘that’s nice’ back and idk if that means they’re annoyed at me or they’re just tired and didn’t wanna text or what but :( idk. Either way it’s fine, right now all I care about is going to bed. Gnight I guess. Also I keep thinking about that textpost that’s like “diary of icarly” and she talks in these simple-ass sentences and now I feel self conscious about how I write these snafnfs. I already know I write like a child in these, but that’s just because I don’t wanna go through the effort of making this sound nice and professional every day lmao. So child writing it is. Also painted my nails really horribly and it took forever to clean up which made me late

Woke up, went to work, spent a little time stocking, watered indoor plants, then attempting to work the register, and organized plants the rest of the time. I stood behind one of my coworkers as she checked people out, kind of understanding what she was doing but not that much, and read the manual in down periods. She had me check out a couple people, and it was NERVE WRACKING AS HELL. Thankfully everyone was very nice, and my coworker stood by and helped, and right as I was getting my foothold, my boss called for me to work outside and bring in the new shipment of plants. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT WAS REALLY NICE?? I was actually able to help some people today!! :D I’m slowly getting better at my job which is nice :) originally I was only gonna work 4 hours, but there were more plants to get and I felt like I could keep going, so I ended up working 6 instead. Every time I come home from the end of my shift I feel bad for not working more and like I should have stayed longer. Tbh I think I could do it if I had a proper break! I’ve been doing 4 hour shifts with maybe a water break in the middle because i don’t know how to ask to go on break ;-; Ike my secondary boss in the garden center is super nice and approachable and friendly but the main boss is like. Terrifying. I never know when he’s joking or being serious and I don’t understand him and assffsfamms it SUCKS. But whatever, I went home and ate some Mac n cheese and laid in bed because my back hurt and played on my ds for the rest of the night. I tried a couple new games, none of which I spent very long on. I tried okami den where you’re the wolf puppy child of the precious games protagonist I think, and idk maybe I’ll give it a better try in the future, but I wasn’t feelin it. I spent like 30 minutes on a pro bass fishing simulator and couldn’t clear the first level because the fish wouldn’t get close enough to my boat lmao. Sonic and Mario at the Olympic Games was fun until I lost at table tennis to Mario. I’d play it again. But I have work again tomorrow so I gotta go to bed good night. Having to blast my fan and play drawfee on my phone to drown out moms tv again >:(

Ate a pbj for breakfast? Went to work, moved plants around, took my lunch break, went to subway with an expired coupon, ate at home and times it perfectly so I could watch one section of the new drawfee episode, went back to work, made myself sad thinking about the god girl homunculus from fullmetal alchemist, picked dead flowers off the petunias, left a little early, hung out at home, left to go get mom’s medicine, found my dad at the store, followed him around and shopped for a bit, can home to unload everything, talked with him about buying one of the cars from him so it would be under mom’s insurance after the divorce, talked about being able to hang out at dads apparent after we help him move, ate some of the stuff we bought, and now I’m hanging out in bed again. I picked up my Pokémon black save and played a while today which was nice. I think I’m gonna work more in the next few days, be really busy with shit for like a week, and finally have a breather after the 15th. I really need to switch brain gears back into college stuff soon so I can sign up for orientation and figure out finances and shit, but for now it’s midnight and I don’t have to think about it lol

Today was pretty good, but also pretty boring. I played Pokémon all day since I didn’t have work, cooked some hamburger meat, and went on an errand for mom but got the wrong thing so I went out later to buy the right thing. I got spicy chicharrones instead of regular ones oops. On my drive back from getting the right thing, I rolled all my windows down and loved the feeling of driving around right after sunset when the weather was nice but cool, especially after standing in mom’s loud-ass room trying to ask about her bank card. I thought about going back out to aimlessly drive around the park and back, but instead hung out in my kitchen as my cat fell asleep on my lap. I think I’m gonna get paid tomorrow, so that’s exciting :D I probably made a solid couple hundred dollars if I had to guess. Idk what I’m getting paid per hour, but it’s probably ~$10 and I COULD go through my texts again to see how much I’ve worked, but I don’t really wanna lmao. I should just start putting that in my notes app instead...

Just had probably the most involved, longest dream ever?? It was a mix of infinity train and dangenrompa, we were mostly stuck inside my house, one boy left for years to search for supplies, I tried biking along a tail that disappeared into tree roots and a ditch with grass, cried because we had been in the same car for so long I was afraid they were gonna make us kill someone to get past, and at the end we escaped or something and had to fuck up security cameras and get past loopholes and lots of cereal boxes were involved? Idk there’s just so much I don’t remember. I wasn't sure if I had to go to work today, so I sent my boss a text and just kinda hung out. was making  hamburger meat for my mom when my boss called asking me to come in, so I took a shower and worked from 1-5. spent some time at the register, and got way better at checking stuff out :) I learned a couple things, and there was one old lady in particular who was very patient and nice to me while my coworker went to go find a smaller bag of birdseed. when it stopped being busy inside, I went ut to the garden center to help price plants and spent the rest of my shift out there. I got paid too! $9 an hour, 22 hours, $200 in total. hell yeah. not bad, although I literally have no frame of reference on if this Is good or not. after work I went home for a second, then got Hardee’s (or carls jr in the western states). I used a coupon for chicken tenders for me and my sister :) and while I was driving around today, I found myself wishing that everything in life could be as smooth and easy as driving my car through my neighborhood. and then I kinda laughed thinking about how I cried my first time driving on a major road asdjfasjdhf. but seriously I love driving my dad’s silver Volvo!! its so comfy with 4 wheel drive and good petal control, its like always driving on freshly paved roads <3 unfortunately that's the car my dad is taking when he moves into his apartment to use as his full time car instead of his shit-ass blue Volvo, and we’re gonna be stuck with the red Volvo with a really touchy gas pedal and slow break pedal. (idk if you've noticed but we really love old Volvos in this family. they’re all old and boxy as hell and I love em <3 ) then I played Pokemon black and beat the elite 4 and champion in one try with a lot of revives lmao. I was kinda underleveled, right at 48-50 range, same as them. I was angry about stuff and in pain earlier in the shower as I washed my hair, but I dont remember exactly what it was. now I have my soft Spotify playlist going so I can maybe go to sleep soon. oh wait I remember being angry that all I could thin about all day was work, even tho it only takes up a few hours of my day, and then I do nothing all day afterwards. idk it’s just weird.

[hjertetssunnegalskap1]

The Secret Santa App - Crazyheart

This fic is part of the Skam Secret Santa challenge, and it’s a gift to @emmanette. I hope it's okay! :) 

Originally I planned a oneshot, but it got a little long, so I have decided to post it in five chapters. However, I will post it all within the next 24 hours. :D

Summary: Secret Santa AU, Isak’s and Even’s altering POV. In this world, Isak and Even met at Nissen, but they were never brave enough to do anything. Isak  (25) is a stressed-out salesman for playground equipment. Even (27) is a freshly educated, burned out and lonely children’s psychologist. They meet again when Sana, Eva and Vilde arrange a Secret Santa party.

Without knowing it, Isak and Even end up as Secret Santas for each other and they chat with each other on the Secret Santa App. Things happen. This story shows snapshots from the four Sundays before Christmas and Christmas Eve.

Thank you so much @evakuality, @coolauntskam and @arindwell for proofreading and betaing for me, you are amazing! <3

This fic is also on AO3.

Chapter 1. Isak: Gløgg, Gingerbreads and Joy (First Sunday of Advent)

Now we light a candle tonight, we light it for joy 

For us who are present, it shines so brightly

Now we light a candle tonight, we light it for joy

Inger Hagerup’s strong voice seeps from the radio and fills Isak’s car as he drives over to Eva and Jonas’s house. It’s Sunday, Dec 1st, the first Sunday in Advent. Isak doesn’t feel much of the joy that the poem speaks about.

If he lit a candle, he would light one for his missing life.

He’s miserable. He has a nice job as a salesman for playground equipment, and he’s doing great, but he always has this feeling that he wants more . He’s lonely, too. He has his friends, of course, and he's had some relationships, but nothing that lasted. He’s starting to wonder if he ever will have something long lasting like that, something like the thing Eva and Jonas have.

It’s dark outside and wet snow falls in front of the car. It should give him a sense of Christmas spirit, but it just makes him more irritable. He really doesn’t want to visit them tonight. Eva, Sana, and Vilde have conspired to make a Secret Santa party, and Eva has more or less forced Isak to come. It’s going to be awful. It’s Sunday, and a workday tomorrow, so he supposes they won’t even serve beer. That would at least have made everything a little more endurable.

He doesn’t know why he caved in. Well, maybe it has something to do with the guests. Sana, Vilde, and Eva have been talking about inviting all kinds of people, to make sort of a new Kosegruppa, and the idea did something to Isak. What if Even showed up? Isak knows that Even still hangs out with Sana’s brother, so it’s not totally unbelievable.

Even, with the long legs, swoopy blonde hair and shining smile... Even, the cool guy, who always had a kind smile and who looked at Isak like he was someone to pay attention to. Isak can’t help it, he would love to see him again.

Of course, Isak knows he is silly to think like that—Even is only his crush from Nissen, who he should have forgotten years ago. They had met at Kosegruppa, spoke one or two times, and Isak had this infatuation that he never acted on, but that lasted for years.

He still keeps track of Even, though, and sees him from time to time. Even will meet up with Sana sometimes, or at a party here and there. He isn’t on any social media, but he has popped up in someone else’s Insta or Facebook from time to time. Isak doesn’t know everything about him, but he knows that Even transferred to Nissen because he had an episode at Bakka and felt like he never could go back. Isak knows that Even had a girlfriend for many years, followed by only short-term things. That he’s pansexual. He knows that Even has bipolar disorder, that he has more or less control of. He had told some of his friends about it after a manic episode around Christmas when Isak was in second year. Even told Isak about it in the spring. That was about the same time that Isak discovered that Even knew his Biology buddy Sana, too.

Isak also knows that Even has studied for years to become a children’s psychologist. That he loves movies, music, and art. Fuck, Isak realizes that he knows quite a lot, after all. Isak feels like he’s some weird resigned stalker, but he just can't help following Even at a distance.

So he’s going to this Secret Santa thing, and he doesn’t really have any thoughts about what he will do if Even actually turns up. He will most likely just stare at him and not say a word, like he always does. It’s tragic, really.

However, when he turns up at Eva’s and Jonas’ place and spots Even in the other end of the room, and when Even sees him and smiles, Isak gets this feeling almost of relief . He exhales, and it feels like he has held his breath for ages. God , it’s good to see him.

Isak still doesn't dare to go over to him, though.

He watches the other guests instead. The boys are there, Eskild and Linn are there, and so are Sana’s brother and his friends. And of course the girls. There are also some faces that Isak hasn't seen before. Everyone seems to be having a good time, and right now Isak is fine, watching them all quietly.

Eva comes over, giving him a big hug and offering him some gløgg and gingerbread cookies. Isak thanks her and takes a sip of the hot drink.

– Oh, you made an adult version? he grins, as he tastes the sweet mulled wine mixed with the Christmas spices.

– Of course, she grins, and winks.

– Ah, but I’m driving, Eva, Isak sighs.

Eva brushes it away. – You can leave the car and get it tomorrow. Have some strong gløgg. And some beer later. Although I must recommend Sana’s spicy nonalcoholic gløgg, too. It’s really hot.

– Mm, Isak smiles, enjoying the spicy and sweet mulled wine. He supposes that she’s right. He can leave the car for one night.

The chat becomes lively around them, and he allows himself another look across the room. Even looks relaxed, happy and damned good. Isak feels the heat rise to his cheeks as Even looks in his direction. He grins and Isak looks away, knowing that if he continues to stare he will get lost in Even’s big blue eyes. Isak can feel his eyes still on him, so he silently inhales and exhales, hoping that Even’s thoughts about him are good.

Eva seems to want to have another word or two with Isak. She moves closer. – So… do you still have a crush on him?

Isak looks at her in flustered bewilderment. – Huh?

Eva gives him a telling look. – You know, Isak. Even . You told me about your crush at that Kosegruppa Christmas party in the second year at Nissen, remember?

– Oh fuck.

He had forgotten about that. He had been so lost for Even back then that it was ridiculous. – That’s ages ago, Eva.

– Yeah, well. I always thought it was a pity you two never got together.

Isak shrugs, trying not to make a big thing out of it. – Well, not everyone gets a fairytale like you and Jonas, you know.

Eva laughs then, and she almost falls over from the laughter. – Fucking hell, Isak. Were you blind when we were younger? Jonas and I were so messed up most of the time, it’s hilarious.

– What? How?

Eva shakes her head. – At first, I was too dependent on him, and he was too avoidant and too hung up himself and his own ideals. Then I took such a long time to figure out what I wanted, and Jonas took a long time to figure stuff out, too.

– Do you mean when he dated others, and you hooked up with Chris?

– Yeah, and when I hooked up with Vilde. And others.

Isak stares at her. – Eva, are you telling me that you had a crush on Vilde?

Eva giggles. – Yeah, sure, why did you think I made out with her? To make a show for boys? No, it was hot. I’m bi, Isak, I thought you knew that.

Isak swallows. He really didn’t know that. – But you did choose Jonas?

– Yeah. It was love, you know. Vilde and I never hit it off like that. Jonas made me feel more.. whole, I guess. After we both grew up a little, he saw me. And I saw him.

Isak sighs. – Like I said, a fairytale.

– Bullshit, Eva says. – Love is making choices, every day. Sure, it has its magical moments, but it’s not just magic. If you’re waiting for that, you’ll have to wait for a long time.

– Yeah, yeah.

Isak frowns. – Are you saying that I should forget this magic feeling I have for Even and look for someone else?

– Aaaw.. magic feeling! Eva says, making a cute face. – And no, Isak, I am saying that you should do something more than just watch him from a distance. Take a chance for once in your life. Live a little.

She makes it sound so easy. Isak avoids her gaze. – Sure...

Eva shakes her head like she thinks it's a lost cause. – Did you download the Secret Santa app so that you can get your giftee?

– No.

Eva sighs and puts her mug with gløgg on a shelf next to them. – Well, give me your phone.

He hands it to her, and as she fiddles with his phone, he shoots another look across the room. Even looks back again, giving him another tingling feeling along his spine. Isak feels like an idiot when he quickly drops his eyes again. He tries to hide his confusion by drinking another sip of the gløgg. Damn, it must be strong stuff, because he already feels a little tipsy.

– Here, Eva says and hands him his phone. She smiles at him. – Seems like you have been assigned a giftee already. Maybe we all have.

She pats his back and moves on, and Isak looks closer at his phone and the Secret Santa app. It seems fairly simple, it’s an app that shuffles the names from this party so that they can be Secret Santas to each other. It seems like it’s possible to text the giftees on the app, too. That could be handy. Isak clicks on his giftee and almost chokes when he sees the name pop up.

Even Bech Næsheim.

Fucking hell. Send me an anonymous greeting, it says.

Isak’s thumb hovers over the keys for a moment, before he starts typing.

Hi, Even, looks like you’re stuck with me as your Secret Santa. What do you want for Christmas?

The answer is quick: If you know me, you know what I like.

Don’t try to figure out who I am, I’ll never tell! :) So, you have no special desires for Christmas this year?

Oh, I have plenty of desires. ;)

Like what? ;)

Like, I would love to do better at work, or not be as messy all the time, or wait, to learn to say no. Yeah, and I would love to meet someone, preferably a hot person, that I could live happily ever after with. Could you arrange that?

Isak’s heart beats a little faster when he realizes that Even wants to meet someone. Why can’t Isak be that someone? Could he be? He shakes off that impossible hope and writes an answer: Well, I can’t promise anything, but I sure can try. :D

He notices that the app pings in phones around him, as all the guests get their first messages.

– You’re allowed to send a message or two now, Sana says, – but remember that this is supposed to be a party, and it won’t be if everyone is staring at their phones.

Isak smiles as he hears his own phone pinging.

Hi, I’m your Secret Santa, Isak, your wish is my command. :)

Oh, that sounds interesting , Isak types back.

I hope it will be! What do you want for Christmas?

Isak doesn’t know what to answer. What does he want? He has all the things he needs. Even’s Christmas wishes go through his head.

Honestly? he types.

Yes, please, that would be nice.

I wish to do something meaningful. I feel like I’m wasting my life away, to be honest, and I’m so fed up.

For a moment he wishes he had the courage to write his own wish to get together with someone special. He doesn’t.

That’s dark, his Secret Santa answers.

Yeah, I guess you caught me in a bad mood. But that's what I wish for, anyway.

Well, that’s not a small wish, but I’ll do my best, the Secret Santa answers.

And now Isak is very curious. Normally, he would have guessed who it was from the phrases used, but now, he has no idea.

– Let’s eat, Vilde bellows over the crowd, and they all gather around the big table. – We have put out table cards, to make sure that you all get to know new people. But remember, the Santa assignments are random, so there’s no point in guessing who it is from your seating. Okay? Dig in!

As Isak gets close to the table, his heart speeds up. For yeah, something tells him that Eva or some of the others have been meddling. Isak is seated right next to Even.

He approaches Even slowly. When Even looks at him and smiles, Isak can’t help smiling back. His pulse thunders in his ears.

– Halla, Even says, grinning. – Seems like you’re my date.

Oh, and that’s a nice idea. Up close Isak notices how Even has become a grown man. He still look just as good. His eyes are just as blue, his neck is just as long, and his hair is just as swoopy.

– Halla, Isak answers, blushing. – That’s cool.

Even smiles and looks him over. – I like your shirt, it’s nice.

Isak gets flustered and tries to hide it behind a cocky face. – Thanks, well…  just because you like my shirt doesn’t mean it’s coming off tonight.

Oh fuck, where did that come from? He grimaces. – I mean, sorry, thanks, I just tried to be funny there for a moment.

Even just laughs, still looking at him. – You are funny, Isak. And I promise that I’ll only take your shirt off if you want me to.

He winks, and the strange attempt at a wink makes Isak laugh. God, he is adorable.

They all sit down, and as they start passing food and filling up their plates, Even looks at Isak. Those eyes. Even looks at him like he’s studying something interesting, and Isak can’t look away.

– So, what do you think about this Secret Santa thing? Even asks.

Isak tries to breathe slowly, to calm down. – Well, I guess I should admit that I’m not a big fan of Christmas, he says, licking his lip. – Or happenings like this. But it still might be fun.

Even’s eyes linger on his face for a moment. – Oh, I’m sure it will be. I totally get that Christmas isn’t for everyone. It can be a bit much. However, I cherish everything about Christmas, and I love things like this. Makes me feel like I’m a kid again.

He smiles. Isak watches his smile and has no problem imagining that. He nods and takes a bite from the food. God, that’s good. He gives a small sound as he savours the amazing taste. – Fuck, if nothing else, the food’s fucking amazing.

Even laughs so that his eyes crinkle. – That’s good then, he says, and takes a bite, too. Then he pours Isak some beer.

Fuck, that laughter does something to Isak. He has to try to make Even laugh some more. – Thanks, he says, raising an eyebrow. – Are you trying to get me drunk, or something?

Even laughs again. His eyes sparkle when he looks at Isak. – Oh, are you afraid that I’ll get you drunk and take advantage of you? he asks in a low, dark voice. – I’m just not that kind of guy, Isak.

Isak feels so hot in his cheeks. – You’re not?

– Not at all, Even says, keeping his gaze. –  I need trust, comfort, and connection first.

– Okay, so that’s what rocks your boat. Good to know.

They both laugh now. Isak feels like he’s blushing from his head to his toes. He takes a deep gulp of his beer.

Even looks at him and raises his eyebrows. – So… How are things, Isak? Are you still in the playground equipment business?

Isak is surprised that Even remembers. – Uh. I’m not sure it’s my dream job, but I got this job when I had this study crisis and I had no idea what to do, and now I’m kind of happy with it.

– Yeah, I thought that you wanted to work with something that requires the science subjects.

– I sort of did, yeah. In my job now I work with planning, sales, and IT, and I get to work a lot with problem-solving, but it’s not exactly Physics or Science. It sure isn’t Biology. I kind of like the freedom in my job, though, with all the travelling and stuff, and I have learned so much about marketing, but I guess I wish I had finished my degree.  

He takes a deep breath. Fuck. He never usually talks much about this. Even really makes him open up. – How about you? he asks. – You’re still working as a psychologist, right?

– Yes, I am, Even nods, and looks almost tired. – And I am... kind of… slowly burning out, to be honest. I am working my ass off, and all the stories the kids tell me are getting to me. So yeah. Apart from that it’s alright.

He laughs a little, but Isak can see the sincerity in his eyes.

– I didn’t know it was that rough, Isak says.

– No, well, I tend to pretend that everything is fine for far too long. So I say yes to everything until the work piles up and I’m almost suffocating. I’m just expecting someone to figure me out, sooner or later. You know, I should specialize as a clinical child psychotherapist; that would give me 200 000 kroner more in salary each year, but I’m too afraid of the responsibilities that a title like that would give me, so I keep postponing it.

– Aren’t you a child psychotherapist already?

– Nah, that’s like a doctorate. I’m just a regular psychologist. But I should specialize. Most psychologists do.

– Wow, Isak chuckles. – That’s some twisted avoidance right there.

Even laughs. – Sure is.

Isak smiles, it feels kind of nice to hear that Even doesn’t have this perfect job situation either. – You know, to be focused on your career isn’t everything. If you can find a way to be happy with your job, that must be more important than your degree or income, right?

Even stares at him, like he’s said something he never thought of before. – Yeah, you’re kind of right.

Isak sighs. – Of course, he says, – I’m always right. He smiles, to show that he’s (partly) kidding. – Well. I guess that work was sort of a depressing subject, he says. – Are you still into movies and shit?

Even breaks out in another wide smile, and oh shit, it’s beautiful.

– Yeah, sure, it’s practically all I ever do after work. If I’m not making movies, I’m watching movies. And you? What do you do in your free time?

– Nothing, basically. I workout, watch Netflix, read a book or two or hang out with my friends.

Even nods, and asks him about his favourites. Isak answers, and as he does, he realizes that he’s having a great time. Actually, he’s having more fun with this party than he ever thought he would. They eat and talk about everything from hobbies to favorite music and movies, about what they like and don’t like. When they talk, Even looks at him with his blue eyes, and Isak can't help but meet his gaze. Something in his eyes makes Isak wonder if there just might be a small hope for something between them. And it gives him a tingling feeling up his spine.

It surprises him that they have some common music heroes although Even has some questionable hangups on some cheesy pop songs.

– Don't be a music snob, Even laughs. – I’m sure you love the most cheesy songs deep down. I’ll figure you out, just wait and see.

Of course Even’s right, but Isak will never admit to that. Not now, anyway.

Isak tells him more about his studies in biology and passion for science and about weird scientific theories, and Even tells him how he ended up studying psychology, because he wanted to understand people, but that he ended up getting stressed out by the fight for good grades. That he chose to finish his studies because it felt safe and because he wanted to keep the filming as a hobby. Isak tells Even that he dreams of studying more, but that he fears that he won't be good enough.

Isak doesn't know if it’s the beer or the good vibe in the room but they talk like they have known each other for years, and he loves it. He just wishes that they had known each other like that, for real.

When Even excuses himself to go to the bathroom (don’t miss me too much, he whispers), and Isak feels like he’s been in a bubble for hours. He turns to his left, and catches Sana watching him. It’s like she looks right through him.  

– Having a great time? she asks. And, of course she does. Sana knows him well.

Isak blushes. – Yeah, sure, this is great.

– You weren’t so enthusiastic yesterday? she grins. – What’s changed?

Isak groans. – Oh, fuck off, did Eva tell you?

Sana shakes her head but grins knowingly. – Almost everyone knows, stupid. You look like you could eat him up.

Oh. Really? Isak stares at her in shock, but then someone else catches her attention. And then his phone pings.

You look like you’re having a great time, his Secret Santa writes. How are you doing?

Isak looks around, but can’t see any of the guests with their phones. He writes an answer: I didn’t have great expectations, but I’m really enjoying myself, actually. Great food and good company.

Sounds good. Let me know if you have more wishes for your Santa. ;)

I will!

Isak smiles. He starts to think about the fact that he’s a Santa too, so he types out a message to Even, trying to be as flirty as he possibly could be.  

You are looking good tonight, Even, and it seems like you’re having fun. This Secret Santa happening is just your thing, isn’t it?

It sure is, Santa! And thank you. I am having a great time. All these happy people gathered together just make me glad, too.

That’s cool, Even. Enjoy yourself! A good friend basically told me to live a little. I could pass that good advice on to you.

Oh, that is some good advice, I can do that! :)

Isak puts his phone away, to make sure that Even doesn’t catch him when he comes back. He meets Jonas’ gaze across the table.

– Everything good? Jonas asks, raising his bushy eyebrows.

– Yeah, it’s great, Isak smiles. He wants to say more, but the chatter and laughter in the room make it difficult to be heard. He settles for a smile and a nod.

Jonas looks very pleased. – Later, he says, and dives back into a deep discussion with Noora and Mahdi.

Even flops down next to him. – So, have you missed me, baby?

Baby . Isak can’t find his voice. He feels his cheeks flush hot, and his stomach is heavy. He takes a deep breath and smiles. – Yeah, you’re a dork, you know.

– I know. So, have you figured out who your Secret Santa is yet?

Isak shakes his head. – Not a clue. Actually, I thought it would be a lot easier. How about you?

– No, I really don’t know, Even answers, and shrugs. – This whole thing is exciting, though. I think I have a good idea for a present for my giftee.

– Already? I’m impressed. I don’t know at all. Was there a price limit?

– Yeah. 200 kroner. It makes it almost impossible to find something, but that’s the fun of it.

Isak sighs. – I hear you. It sounds like I might need a little help figuring out what to give.

Something twinkles in Even’s eyes. – Oh, I’d be happy to help, Isak. Maybe we could go Christmas shopping one day?

Oh my god. Isak doesn’t know where to look. His heart pounds in his throat, threatening to break out. The thought of doing the Christmas shopping with his biggest crush is anything but reassuring. The fact that Even is his giftee is also worrying, of course. How could he do his Christmas shopping with Even?

He fakes a smile. – Ha ha, yeah, that could be cool.

– What is this? You don’t look enthusiastic at all?

Even leans closer, and oh my god, he puts his arm around Isak’s shoulders. Fuck, he had forgot how touchy and feely he could be. Isak’s skin tingles where Even touches him and his heart beats erratically in his chest so hard that he thinks it might fly out.

– No, I just… Christmas shopping isn’t my favourite activity, I guess.

– Fair enough.

How come Even’s smile can shine so much?

Isak tries to remain calm. But how is that remotely possible with his heart somersaulting and with Even sitting dangerously close to him, his sandy hair tousling haphazardly in a way Isak has come to adore and Even’s blue eyes locking him into a trance with such intensity; looking away is unthinkable.

His paralysis is interrupted by Eva, who speaks to them all. – This has been so lovely my friends, but this evening is coming to an end!

Aaaw’s and ooh’s rise around the table.

Eva laughs. – Yeah, I know. But we’ll meet up again, guys. Just remember to keep in touch with your giftees and Secret Santas, so this can be a fun thing for everyone.

She gets some cheers for that.

– Let’s toast for lovely gifts and nice surprises!

They toast, and Eva sighs happily. She looks a little tipsy but mostly very glad. – It’s so nice to see all of you here, on the first Sunday of Advent. Oh, we should light the first light in the Advent Wreath, she suddenly says. – That could be a nice way to end this gathering. Let me just find the candles, guys...

And she’s gone.

Isak shoots a glance at Sana. – It doesn’t bother you? he asks. – Lighting the candles and everything?

Sana laughs. – Nah. I have nothing against Norwegian traditions. It’s not like Christmas is only a Christian tradition, anyway.

Isak grins. – True.

He turns back to Even. Even looks at him and smiles, and Isak struggles a little to find the words again. – So. It seems like the evening’s over soon.

Even nods and sighs. – Yeah, it’s a pity. I had a lot of fun tonight.

– Yeah, me too.

Even smiles. – Good. So… I can’t tempt you to come Christmas shopping with me one day, then? It could be fun, you know?

Isak blushes. – Uhm… Maybe?

Even slides closer. He looks into Isak’s eyes. – You know what? I got some really good advice today, he said.

– Yeah? What was that?

– To live a little.

Isak raises an eyebrow. – Profound.

– Maybe not. But it’s good advice, isn’t it?

– Uhm. Sure.

Isak forgets everything and everyone else. The sound of everyone chatting fades away as the only thing he can see is Even. Isak can’t tear his eyes away. Even’s face is so close. And now he reaches out and lets his hand rest on top of Isak’s. His eyes hold Isak’s gaze, and there’s a careful question in his eyes. Oh fucking hell, is this really happening?

He can’t do this, can he? Can they do this?

Even’s lips look so soft, so tempting. Isak can’t help himself. His hand reaches up and his fingers gently touch Even’s cheek. Then he traces Even’s bottom lip lightly with the tip of his finger. It pouts slightly, and Isak has such an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap Even up in a hug and never let go. Even’s lips feel slightly chapped under Isak’s light touches but he simply cannot bring himself to give a damn.

The chatter suddenly quiets down around them, and Isak is dragged out of his trance. He blushes and wonders if anyone has noticed how gone he is. However, everyone is looking at Eva, who stands at her place with a big Advent Wreath in front of her. It looks beautiful, but Isak’s mind is not quite there at all. Even… He almost kissed Even… And now he lost his chance. The evening’s over soon …. He stares at Eva as she lights the first candle in the Advent Wreath. – Now we light a candle tonight, she says. We light it for joy…

Isak listens to the words and they suddenly make sense. Joy. That’s it. He can’t fight this. There’s just something about Even that makes him feel like a life without him would be grey and meaningless. He can’t let Even slip away. Not this time.

He can’t hold back any longer. He turns so that he faces Even again, and whoa, Even’s still sitting close, still watching him, still resting his hand on Isak’s. Isak leans forward, almost like he’s going in for a hug. Isak feels Even’s cheek against his, and then his nose.

His lips gently brush Isak’s and Isak breathes in the smell of him as they press their lips together. God, Even’s lips taste so sweet, of gløgg, wine and Christmas spices. Even smiles into the kiss as Isak’s fingers tug at his hair and his other hand pulls at his shirt. Even’s warm hands roam all over Isak’s back, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

Even lets go of his mouth, only to kiss his neck. – God, you’re beautiful, he whispers so Isak feels his warm breath in his ear. Isak wrinkles his nose in protest.

– Shut up and kiss me again, he whispers back.

[rootindiahealthcare]

Nomophobia : Mobile Phone Uses Lead To Health Risk

Mobile phone uses connected with various health risk  Does the “ding” of your phone have you ever dropping no matter you’re doing to envision United Nations agency “liked” your latest Facebook status? Are you responsive work emails before rubbing the sleep from your eyes? will a coffee battery icon leave you quivering in fear? You, my friend, are probably affected by nomophobia.

Nomowhat?

Nomophobia is that the concern of being while not your smartphone, or a lot of merely smartphone addiction, and it’s a “first world problem” that’s showing no signs of speed down, despite age. And whereas it would sound silly — are you able to extremely be passionate about a hand-held device? — the implications are real. About 1/2 U.S. adults are checking their phone a minimum of many times an hour, with eleven percent sound their screen awake each couple of minutes. (1) No house is safe from the push of a replacement tweet, either. Almost one in ten Americans have admitted to victimization their phone throughout sex. And among young adults ages eighteen to thirty-four, the amount is even higher: one in five have engaged with their smartphone once they’re in between the sheets.   (2) Is it a surprise, then, that twelve % suppose that smartphones are prejudicious to relationships? When you mix nomophobia with cars, things get even scarier. Among Yankee adult drivers, quite twenty-seven percent have sent or scan a text whereas driving. Among young adults, that variety shoots up to thirty-four percent. What’s the hurt in interacting together with your phone at a red light-weight or once traffic is heavy? take into account the very fact that text electronic communication whereas driving makes a crash twenty-three times a lot of probably. The injury that Nomophobia will … Let’s Count how Even for those folks United Nations agency doesn’t text and drive, nomophobia has serious consequences. 1. You’re dalliance While several folks are convinced that multitasking permits us to induce a lot of doing, the solution is multitasking doesn’t work. Not solely are our brains not equipped to handle 2 dissimilar tasks promptly, however attempting to accomplish many things promptly lands up wasting longer than saving any. Think about it: however well does one retain data once someone’s reprimand you as you’re scrolling through emails or observation the most recent cat video your friend posted? although your body is during an area, it’s simple to miss vital data once your brain is in other places fully. Plus, let’s face it: nobody likes reprimand somebody who’s “listening” with their face buried during a screen. 2. You’re a lot of anxious Not having your phone around will increase anxiety. One British study found that fifty-one percent of participants suffer “extreme technical school anxiety” once separated from their smartphones. a number of that stems from feeling that, if we’re except our phones, we tend to won’t be enclosed once friends create plans or won’t understand what the most recent Facebook culture is. Even our bodies are getting down to acknowledge once our phones aren’t around. A University of Missouri study discovered that iPhone users United Nations agency compound with their devices throughout things that need a big quantity of attention, like taking a check or finishing a piece assignment, may end in poorer performance. (4) That’s as a result of, once participants were separated from their phones then asked to complete easy word search puzzles, their heart rates and pressure level exaggerated — as did their feelings of hysteria and unpleasantness. 3. You’re not sleeping likewise “Check email one last time, confirm no friends announce something fascinating, one last look of Instagram … Buckeye State waits, a replacement work email came in. Darn it, that afternoon meeting got pushed up. Did I prepare enough for it? ought to I review things an added time? Wait, it’s late already. I assume I’ll simply suppose it for the future unit of time whereas I toss and switch attempting to sleep off.” Sound familiar? Being inundated with stimulating data right before bed usually means that you can’t sleep well, notably once we’re conferred with things on the far side our management. And most folks are sleeping with our phones. In nearly all ages cluster, a minimum of forty percent of American citizens off their phone within sight. For that twenty-five to twenty-nine years recent, the number’s even higher: nearly eighty % are petting up to their device.  The danger isn’t solely that every beep long has the potential to wake the U.S.A. up. Smartphones additionally emit a “blue” light-weight, signal to our brain that it’s time to come to life. Blue lights suppress hormone, the secretion that dictates our sleep rhythms. Yes, the struggle to eff your phone is real. 4. Your children are discovering your naughty habits “Do as I state, not as I do” is only too real once it involves smartphone time. while oldsters raise children and youths to {put} off Snapchat or put their phones down throughout dinner, they’re checking calendars, responsive texts or pampering in one last game of Candy Crush. It stands to reason than that, in nearly every study of smartphone use, young adults the best usage rates. kids are learning that invariably being connected is traditional — and missing out on the importance of human-to-human interaction. Signs You’re passionate about Your Smartphone: Sure, some individuals with no self-control can be passionate about their smartphones. however, are you one in each of them? If any of those apply to you, all signs purpose to addiction. You reach for your smartphone upon arousal and right before bed. It’s not uncommon for you to catch au courant emails or the most recent within the news whereas you’re intake. When your phone is out of reach, low on battery or (gasp) fully turned off, you are feeling anxious or stressed. Being out of mobile phone signal causes you to want you may be missing one thing. You live for that next Instagrammable moment. Pavlov’s dogs don't have anything on you: once you hear that acquainted text-sound, you perk up. You’ve checked your phone a minimum of once whereas reading this article! Yup. I assumed so! It’s ok, though. We’re beat this along.   Your 5-Step arrange to End Your Smartphone Addiction Now that we’ve conquered the primary step, admitting there’s a retardant, it’s time to fight this factor. Follow these steps to relish a life that’s complemented, not ruled, by your smartphone. 1. Shut down your mobile phone a minimum of AN hour before bed Allow your brain to unwind And attempt to turn off your phone an hour before the time of day. meaning off, not simply on silent. Those vibrations and blinking lights are still harmful, as is knowing that you’re only one reach far from seeing the most recent. Remember, nomophobia ne'er sleeps and neither can you. No marvel numerous folks are invariably tired, huh? If you have got a legitimate reason for keeping your phone on — your female offspring is out with friends or your oldsters are senior and you don’t have a telephone line — flip your phone on “do not disturb” and place your phone on the opposite facet of the area. during this mode, your phone can silence all notifications, however, enable you to alter exceptions, like a call from a selected variety. Remember: Seeing what number “likes” your last Instagram post received isn't a legitimate reason. “But I exploit my phone as my watch,” you say. “I want it nearby!” to it I respond…. 2. Stop shacking up together with your phone Get a true watch (yes, you'll still realize these Stone Age relics). Not solely can this enable you to show off your phone fully long (again, unless you wish to remain on alert for a friend and don’t have a landline), however rather than arousal with the temptation to envision what you lost long, you'll pay the primary moments of the morning stretching, puzzling over what’s on schedule for the day or essentially doing something apart from checking your phone. For additional credit, I challenge you to not flip your phone on once more till your morning routine is finished: you’ve showered, dressed, eaten up breakfast, perhaps even scan the paper (remember that pastime!) and pushed the youngsters out the door. 3. Set certain times to see your phone Do you need to appear at every single email the second it’s received? Save your saneness and at the same time facilitate your productivity by designating sure times to look at your smartphone. For instance, you may need to try and do a five-minute sweep of your social networks and email right before sitting down at your table to do work, then hide your phone away for a future hour, once you take a five-minute break. Structuring your operating hours around short breaks helps you agree into your task while not distractions for an amount of your time, whereas knowing that a “break” is simply round the corner. Additionally, once the workday is over, provide yourself a group length of your time that you’re allowed to see something work-related. perhaps once dinner (and well before bedtime!) you permit yourself ten minutes to review any messages which may have are available in or want your attention. And this is often the time to be discerning: If it’s not one thing that needs your attention right this second (i.e. a million-dollar deal can founder if you don’t answer that email), it will wait till morning. 4. Establish phone-free zones I know I can’t be the sole one who’s horror-stricken that smartphones are disrupting individuals throughout intimate moments. thereupon aforementioned, designating sure places and times as phone-free zones may be a good way to tackle nomophobia. Mealtimes are a decent place to start: rather than scrolling and chew, you'll observe aware intake and interesting speech. It’s additionally a first-rate chance to line An example for kids; they’ll see you worth speech and sensible food over responding to your phone’s each ring. And please, simply say no to phones in bed. 5. have interaction in real human contact Finally, rather than “connecting” with friends and family over social media, attempt defrayment some real-time with them. rather than “liking” your cousin’s standing, decision him up to listen to the story primary (gasp!). got wind of a low date to catch up with friends rather than that cluster text. Send a thoughtful card to a faraway friend. We’re social creatures United Nations agency thrive on real human interaction. That’s one thing a smartphone simply can’t replicate. Read the full article