#we should call this week and work on the outline together

[licnheartedd]

thinking about percy jackson again

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[ivys-garden]

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

[gureumz]

incriminating

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

notes: fem-bodied reader, brother's friend trope, mild dom/sub dynamics

a/n: my first work on this blog! it's been more than a year since i've written anything like this so i might be a little rusty. feedback is very much welcomed!

you had hoped your friday would be quiet. a calm finale to a whirlwind of a week at university. you were back home, exhausted from an hour's commute from campus, and all you wanted to do was doze off into the weekend.

the steady drone of your air conditioning, the distant sound of the tv downstairs, the occasional gaggle of kids passing by your house yelling; all of these seemed to come together into a sleepy melody, your eyes getting heavier by the minute.

until a sharp knock came from your bedroom door.

"_______?" your brother's muffled voice calls out.

"what?" you answer, a twinge of irritation sparking in your chest.

"wanna watch a movie?" your brother asks. you groan inwardly curling further into yourself.

"no, fuck off," you reply curtly.

your brother tries your doorknob. it's locked, obviously.

"i ordered food and booze," your brother offers, shaking the doorknob more vigorously. you jump out of bed, angrily stomping to your door, ready to kick your brother in the shin if it meant he left you alone.

you yank your door open.

"i don't care, i wanna slee—"

"heeseung's here," your brother whispers.

oh.

well, shit.

"so?" you reply, a feeble attempt at masking the blush creeping down your neck.

"don't act stupid, i know you like him," your brother scoffs.

mildly alarmed, you shove him away from you.

"i do not," you protest.

(yes, you do. you've liked him since the first time you saw heeseung at the front door, your inebriated brother hanging off his tall frame. heeseung had looked absolutely divine at that moment, hair mussed up, cheeks a bright pink from the alcohol. your heartbeat quickens at the mere memory of it all.)

"yeah, whatever," your brother waves a hand dismissively.

"either way, i'm extending my kindness to you on this rarest of occasions. i'm offering real, seasoned, non-university food and more alcohol than i know you can handle."

your brother adds, snickering, "and i'm practically setting you up with my friend."

you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"you have my gratitude, dear brother," you say sarcastically. "don't freak out if we start making out in front of you."

your brother makes a face. "gross."

you merely smile, an artificially saccharine expression, before you slam your bedroom door shut behind you.

---

"i brought a pest," your brother announces as the two of you descend the stairs into the living room. you land a hard punch on his shoulder from behind, reveling in his splutters of pain.

your eyes land on heeseung's figure lounging on one side of the couch and you wish you had put a little more thought into what you were wearing. a gigantic hoodie and ratty house shorts didn't exactly come off as sexy.

at least when compared to heeseung's black shirt clinging deliciously to his toned upper body and his sweats that seemed to leave little to the imagination, the outline of—

"hi, ______," heeseung greets, grinning up at you. your eyes snap back to his face and you feel the familiar blush blooming all over your body.

"hey, heeseung," you answer back, approaching the couch as nonchalantly as you can. for a second, you debate whether you should take a seat on the other end, but your brother's reminder rings back in your head.

i'm practically setting you up with my friend.

you're so going to take full advantage of this.

you seat yourself right in the middle of the couch, close enough to heeseung that you can smell his perfume but still maintaining a civil distance.

you watch your brother disappear into the kitchen, presumably to collect some alcohol, but your line of sight is obstructed as heeseung leans forward, eyes boring right into yours.

"you wanna pick out the movie?" heeseung offers the remote to you. you take it, fiddling with the buttons as you contemplate what to watch.

"horror sounds good. is that okay?" you ask, a taunting smile making its way to your face. your brother may or may not have mentioned heeseung's reluctance with horror movies.

"only if i get to hold your hand through the whole thing," heeseung jests, nudging your shoulder with his.

you laugh, briefly eyeing the kitchen door for any sign of your brother. you'd rather him not hear the next words that come out of your mouth.

"just my hand?"

heeseung stares at you for a second, mouth agape, before he smirks.

"your brother was wrong for bringing his menace of a sibling down here," heeseung says, shaking his head. he brings his hand down on your exposed thigh, fingers rhythmically tapping against your skin.

"especially when they're wearing barely anything on the lower half of their body."

before you can reply, your brother saunters out of the kitchen, three bottles of beer in his hands. heeseung's hand retracts and you cross your legs away from him, creating a little more distance between the two of you.

you busy yourself with selecting the movie, but you can still feel heeseung's eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head.

your friday just got a lot more interesting.

---

somewhere in between the cookie-cutter horror movie intro, predictably daunting music, and fake-out jumpscares, your brother had brought all three of you blankets to use as the night turned chillier. the lights had been turned off as well, by none other than yourself.

"for dramatic effect," you had reasoned.

heeseung raised an eyebrow at that, his familiar wolfish smile settling on his face. you ignored this, returning under the warmth of your blanket.

you made no protest when heeseung reached out, twining his fingers between yours under the covers, seemingly spurred on by the lack of visibility from where your brother is sitting.

a loud bang from the tv rips you out of your thoughts, and you feel heeseung's grip simultaneously tighten around your hand. you turn, giving him a look, but his eyes stay glued to the movie.

the music crescendos onscreen and all three of you jump in surprise, heeseung's hand abandoning your own and finding purchase, once again, on your thigh. you draw in a sharp breath when he squeezes, your own hand coming down to grip his wrist, as if in a warning.

he relaxes as the action dies down in the movie, but your chest rises and falls rapidly, your body both hot and cold at the same time.

heeseung's hand moves further inward, fingers smoothing over your inner thigh. you nearly choke on air.

you clear your throat, casually glancing at heeseung before laughing, trying to mask your nervousness.

"someone's scared," you comment, ignoring the way heeseung's hands creep further up the hem of your shorts. you let go of his wrist, mirroring him and reaching straight for the relative area of his pelvis.

your hand brushes against the slight mound in heeseung's pants and you don't miss his sharp intake of breath.

gotcha.

"who, you?" heeseung counters, and you scoff, shaking your head.

"yeah, right. i chose this movie," you say matter-of-factly. you palm heeseung through his sweats, his cock quickly stiffening in response to your touch. you cast a sideways glance toward your brother, relieved to see that he seems blissfully unaware of where your hand has ended up.

"it's not even that scary," your brother comments, gesturing to the tv.

"right?" heeseung agrees, taking the opportunity to meet your gaze, his eyes dark. you smile, pulling your hand away.

"you know what, i'm hungry. anyone else wants food? i'll heat up the pizza." your brother rises from his seat and you quickly pull your blanket tighter around yourself, concealing heeseung's hand still wedged between your thighs.

"i'll have some, please," you request, laying on the politeness, which you knew annoyed your brother. he grimaces, walking past you.

"i'm good," heeseung declares. "i have to use the bathroom, though."

you grab the remote and pause the movie. heeseung stands up and you follow, slipping past him and practically skipping towards the stairs.

"i'll change into pajamas. it's too cold," you say, hoping this sorry attempt at an excuse doesn't ring any alarm bells in your brother's head. if it did, he didn't mention anything as he merely supplies an 'okay' before heading into the kitchen.

you bound up the stairs, turning towards heeseung and sending him a wink. heeseung takes one last look at the kitchen, making sure your brother isn't looking, before tailing right behind you.

heeseung keeps a safe distance from you, but you can feel his presence all the same. you walk towards your bedroom, your hand barely turning the knob before you feel heeseung press up behind you.

he pushes the door open all the way, coaxing you inside. you turn to face him, one of his arms circling your waist while the other pulls your door close, careful not to make any noise that could alert your brother.

"what a tease," heeseung comments, both of his hands landing on your hips as he presses your bodies together.

"says the scaredy cat who needs to grope his friend's sister to distract himself from some silly horror movie," you shoot back, hands slipping under his shirt. he's so warm, it has your heart beating wildly.

"please," heeseung chuckles. "you like being groped, don't you?"

"only if it's you," you answer before pulling heeseung down to you, your lips crashing together messily.

heeseung groans into your mouth, pushing you towards your bed. you pull back slightly, letting yourself fall onto your mattress, your hand gripping heeseung's shirt. you pull him down with you, his arms reaching out to brace himself.

your movements are frantic as you kiss him again, moving further up on your bed until you're lying square on your pillow, heeseung hovering over you, his hair falling over his eyes. those eyes that bore straight into your own, sending involuntary shivers up your spine.

"god, you're pretty," heeseung reveres, holding one side of your face.

you smile, butterflies erupting in your stomach. heeseung grins back before kissing you sweetly and much softer this time, his hands running down your sides. he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and you let him pull them off you, his palm smoothing over your leg.

"you think your brother knows what we're doing?" heeseung asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

you shrug. heeseung pulls his own bottoms off, kicking them to the floor unceremoniously.

"honestly? i don't care if he does," you admit, reaching out, arms circling around heeseung's neck as he comes back closer to you.

"he'll kill me, for sure," heeseung says, laughing. he dips his fingers between your folds, spreading the wetness around. you moan softly, your bottom lip catching between your teeth.

"or, he'll beat me to a pulp, at least," heeseung adds.

"but it'll be so worth it once i'm done with you."

heeseung slips a finger in you easily, your arousal evident by the way you're probably dripping onto your sheets. he adds another finger, the sweet drag of the digits against your walls sending your mind into a frenzy.

"yes, just like that," you breathe out, eyes scrunching shut.

"look at me, baby," heeseung commands, and you immediately obey, eyelids fluttering open. he's looking down at you, practically fucking you with his eyes.

but you need the real thing.

"n-need you," you mutter, unable to find the full extent of your voice with the way he's still fingering you.

heeseung leans down and places a kiss on your forehead. then on your temple. on your cheek. on your jaw. your neck. then, finally, behind your ear.

you mewl helplessly.

"tell me exactly what you want," heeseung whispers and you shiver once more as his breath tickles your ear.

"i need you inside me," you say meekly, suddenly embarrassed now that you hear it out loud from your own mouth.

heeseung pinches at your earlobe ever-so-slightly with his teeth before soothing it with a kiss.

"good," heeseung mumbles. he pulls his fingers out, licking them clean as you watch, entranced by the man in front of you.

heeseung takes hold of himself and your eyes fixate on his length, heavy in his hand and leaking precum. your mouth waters as you assess just how big he is.

(spoiler: he's really big.)

heeseung catches your eye and grins. your cheeks heat up but you can't look away.

he inches closer, pressing the tip to your entrance, and anticipation bubbles up inside you. heeseung holds your legs apart, pushing more of himself in. he gets halfway when an intense wave of pleasure surges through you. you moan, heeseung gasping softly at the same time. in a split second, heeseung buries himself all the way into you, and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

"fuck," you curse, fingers twisting your sheets as you grip them for dear life.

"you feel so good," heeseung says through gritted teeth. "how do you feel so good?"

"please," you blabber. "please, please, move."

heeseung obliges, thrusting into you. this ignites a new wave of desperation from both of you, heeseung seemingly overwhelmed by how you feel around him, and you clamping a hand down on your mouth to stop yourself from crying out in pleasure.

heeseung pushes your hoodie up your chest, exposing your boobs. he licks his lips hungrily, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. your moans spill through your hand as heeseung's tongue flicks against the nub harshly.

the world around you starts to get fuzzy. heeseung keeps an unrelenting pace, pounding into you with a force you've never experienced before. heeseung lets up on your nipple and you pull him close, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

heeseung starts peppering kisses on on side of your neck, sucking at a spot before running his tongue over it. you damn near go mad at how good it all feels.

"oh god," heeseung groans. "'m sorry...not gonna...last long."

this pulls a moan out of you, the idea of heeseung being unable to restrain himself because of you causes you to clench down on him. he curses, pulling back to grip your hips. it's almost painful, but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of heeseung.

"god, you're so fucking hot, so fucking gorgeous," heeseung praises, hammering in and out of you. you can't even form a coherent thought, all you can think to do is reach down to rub desperately at your clit, urging yourself closer to release.

"fuck yeah," heeseung practically growls. "touch yourself for me."

your mouth hangs open as you feel yourself racing to your orgasm. heeseung mumbles out a litany of curses mixed with your name and you think it's the most beautiful thing you've heard.

finally, a burst of stars explodes behind your closed eyelids, and your body jerks, white-hot pleasure coursing through your body. heeseung lets out a deep, guttural moan as he keeps you in place, his cum spilling inside you.

heeseung gives a few cursory thrusts as he rides out his high, stopping when the last drop has left him. you lie there, motionless, panting and eyes bleary.

heeseung drops next to you on your bed and you lazily reach over, draping yourself over him. he wraps an arm around you, stroking your hair as you both catch your breaths.

you both don't say anything for a while, basking in what you just did, but footsteps jolt you both out of your peace.

three sharp knocks are delivered on your door and your heart sinks.

"shit," heeseung whispers, scrambling for his pants. he tosses you your underwear and shorts and you quickly pull them on, ignoring the voice screaming in your head about how his cum is going to drip down your leg and it's gonna be gross and—

"mom and dad are almost home," your brother's voice calls out from the other side of the door.

"if i were the two of you, i'd erase any incriminating evidence, of...whatever you just did," your brother adds before you hear him walk away from your bedroom.

you look at heeseung and he looks back. you both collapse in a fit of giggles.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A lifetime of dates (part 3)

After being together for twenty years, Natasha and Katya have been on many dates in their lifetime. In this series, we see one from every part of their lives.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost series) • Wordcount: 1.8k • Warnings: very angsty!!! • This part takes place a month or two after the events in Infinity War (after Tony gets back on Earth) do not repost my work as your own or translate my work Masterlist

A/N: thank youuuu @milfs69420 for this idea <3

2018

"Meet me on the roof."

Natasha hated herself for perking up with pointless hope when her phone chimed. But she hated herself even more for the way her stomach fell with disappointment when it was just Katya's name flashing across her screen. In fact, she resented herself for it. 

Every night, when Katya cautiously reached for her body in bed, she counted herself incredibly lucky to still have her wife. The odds had always been against them; Katya should not be here right now. But she was, and Natasha struggled to find solace in it. 

Sam, Wanda, Fury, T'Challa, Peter, they were all gone, their names never popping up on her phone anymore. Their absence outweighed Katya's presence by miles, and she couldn't get it to change. The darkness was too powerful, the one single star that represented Katya lost in the vastness. 

The lights in the Compound flickered on as the motion sensors picked Natasha up along her journey to the roof. She could hear the fluorescents in the eerie silence, above the sound of her shoes on the stairs and the soft click as the doors fell into the frame behind her. 

Everything was fully abandoned two weeks ago. Recruits left to find out what remained of their families, and the other Avengers—Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Clint—abandoned their tasks and left the two Russians to fend for themselves, just as the world needed this team the most.

Tony fled to the countryside with Pepper, Steve into the city. Duties to his own people called Thor away, and Clint chose to run away from his pain instead of facing it. Nobody had been in contact since, their coats still hanging on the coat rack in the hallway like they left behind a past life.

Why were they allowed to move on and not her? 

Natasha didn't have it within herself to be angry about it anymore. She had been, in the beginning, but everything took so much energy these days. Eating, getting out of bed, brushing her teeth, showering. She had no energy to even think about anger as an emotion. The empty pit in her chest sucked it all in. 

She didn't want to acknowledge it for what it was, but the diagnosis lingered in the back of her head.

The roof was so dark that she had trouble locating Katya when she first stepped through the door. Where the city's skyline and the Compound's outdoor lighting used to outline her seated figure, there now was nothing. Half the city missed electricity, and entire buildings were abandoned. Natasha had to squint to make her eyes adjust quicker. 

She found Katya at the very edge of the roof, facing the silent city. Her back was turned and her legs dangled off the side of the building like it wasn't a three story drop, a bottle of some kind in her hand. 

She looked peaceful, but a dark thought flashed through Natasha's mind as she crossed the distance, fueled by the knowledge of her wife's unstable past. It was obvious Katya was struggling again, dangerous thoughts no doubt infiltrating her brain and convincing her to do irreversible things. But Natasha breathed easy knowing they lived for each other. As long as she was alive, so would Katya.

Quietly, she sat down beside her, the smooth pebbles that covered the surface of the roof unpleasant under her butt. Katya didn't acknowledge her in any way, but Natasha had a feeling she knew why they were up here. It wasn't for nothing that she planned a "date".

Neither of them said anything. They just sat there, watching the dark skyscrapers, the rustling trees, the rolling clouds that revealed parts of the moon. One nice thing about the reduced city lights; the stars were visible again.

Katya handed Natasha her bottle of beer. She felt indifferent about it, but she took a sip anyway. It tasted like crap.

They'd done this countless times before, having a drink on the roof. Especially after a tiring day, or on a warm summer evening. It was a nice way of unwinding and finding more privacy than their apartment provided. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sat in silence. But it had never felt like this.

The air between them wasn't tense, but it was loaded with unspoken knowledge. They were losing their grip on each other and they both realized it. Natasha could feel her wife starting to slip away. She could feel herself starting to push her away.

There was already a distance between them. The love that had always been right there on the surface when she was around Katya was being pushed under by feelings stronger and more powerful. Anger, sadness, guilt, self-hatred, fear, they made that fiery flame turn into a smoldering piece of wood. 

"Stay with me." Katya said suddenly. 

Surprised, Natasha turned to look at her, thrown off by the interruption of the silence and the odd conversation starter.

Katya's words sounded like an order. One that Natasha could not disobey for the desperation that lay right underneath the surface. A plea, hidden as a command.

The light of the moon caught the fearful, sorrowful glint in Katya's eyes as they flickered towards the sky. Natasha was caught by surprise when the sight triggered a rush of feelings within herself. She didn't think she could feel anything other than heavy emptiness.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"You're already miles away," Katya whispered, carefully glancing at her. 

Shamefully, Natasha averted her eyes to the bottle in her lap. Her heart ached in her chest, but she cherished the sharp stabs. It meant that she still cared about Katya's pain. 

"I'm just so…" Her fingers curled into fists, that powerless feeling that threatened to crush her day and night fighting its way to the surface and making her tear up with anger.

The tears kicked Katya to life. Broken souls or not, they were wives, and protective mode would always kick in when the eyes glossed over. She leaned into Natasha's side, carefully prying her clenched fingers open to slide her own between them. 

"I know. Me too."

Natasha relaxed slightly, but she couldn't help but focus on how even this touch felt foreign. Their palms were touching each other, but it's as if they were both wearing gloves. They couldn't fully reach each other. And the more she fixated on it, the more terrified she became. 

She loved her wife. She loved her. Why could she not summon that feeling through the thick cloud of emptiness? Why did this touch not magically heal her?

Panic rose in her throat. 

Not this, too. After everything they lost, she couldn't lose this too.

"I'll always stay with you," Natasha vowed desperately, the beer bottle in her hand trembling along with her fingers. 

Katya didn't relax, her voice fragile and quiet as she asked, "Even if we'll forever feel like this?"

Dread wrapped around Natasha's broken heart. Forever? Forever this emptiness, forever this awful feeling of guilt and self-loathing? The only thing she feared more than living the rest of her life in darkness, was blindly stumbling through it without Katya. To have no one to talk to. No one to find comfort in. No one to live for.

She'd already gone through life like that once, before Clint found her, but she knew she wouldn't survive that a second time. Not after knowing what she'd lost.

Her throat closed with tears. "I don't want to be alone again," Natasha choked out.

"You will never be alone again." Katya's voice wavered with tears too, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening. "I'm staying too."

Natasha wanted to feel confident in their future, to know that she could provide what Katya needed. But the truth is, she already had nothing to give. All her energy and focus she put into running the Avengers brand alone. "I can't give you what I used to," she muttered, fearing Katya would leave eventually after she figured that out too.

Katya looked away, towards the swaying trees, the dark city. The reality slowly started to sink in. This would be their future for a while. Bland, hopeless, empty. It'd be hard. "Neither can I," she whispered. "Maybe we just give what we can."

Maybe. It'd have to be enough. She wasn't leaving, and Natasha wasn't leaving either. They had to make this work. They'd been through worse. They'd faced armies, death, and losing the love of their lives, and overcame it all.

Natasha's tears had long dried, the lump in her throat shrinking until it was easier to swallow. She wanted to scream in frustration. Beg whoever was listening to just fix this, so the world would be okay, and so she and Katya would be okay. But there couldn't be a god after what happened.

Her thumb traced the scar on the back of Katya's hand, memorizing the shape in case she wouldn't feel it for a while. "The love I have for you is always there. Even if you can't feel it, and even if I can't show it," she said into the silence. No horns, no sirens, no birds.

Seeing the acceptance in Katya's eyes broke her. They wanted to cherish each other like they deserved, but they knew they weren't able to give that. And to see her wife accept that reality hurt more than getting stabbed in the gut. Katya deserved everything and more.

Katya gently squeezed her hand. "Knowing is enough." The dark circles under her eyes betrayed that she'd not slept in a while, but her mind appeared clear. This bottle of beer must have been alone. "Never doubt my reason for being here, for staying. I love you, and I always will. And that single thing is enough. You are enough."

Those stupid tears. First, Natasha felt nothing, but now that the dam broke, the emotions would not stop flowing out of her. 

She was never enough. Not fast enough, not smart enough, not cold enough, not ruthless enough. And not enough to stick around for. 

Nobody thought she was worth more than someone to throw away if it was more convenient for them, if she could no longer provide what they needed.

Nobody but Katya. 

Katya didn't need anything from her. Not a hug, not a kiss, not a home cooked meal, not a way to fix every problem in the world. Natasha just needed to exist, and that was it. Exist in whatever way she could and Katya would love her. 

"We have to be okay," Natasha said, in the same tone as Katya started this conversation. An order, filled with desperation. They both knew what would happen if they wouldn't be okay, and it would not be pretty.

"We will be," Katya promised, her determination falling slightly flat. "We will be."

[flymetosnarryland]

A little progress.

I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.

(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)

I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.

Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.

I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.

So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂

Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.

I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.

That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 9

Hello! Thank you so much for the out pouring of support last time. I love that everyone loved the tattoo idea. If you want to see a basic idea of what it would look like, check the reblogs of part 8 (though if I had the energy I would throw into an editing program I’d skinny up the sword a bit and make the wings wider).

We meet the candidates for the apprenticeship and we learn the history of Jeff’s tattoo (warning for racism and bad cops) and Eddie’s reason for the wings.

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

*

Steve walked back to the front the little paper in his shaking hands.

“I’ve already had a couple people this morning asking about the apprentice gig,” Robin told him. “When should I have them come in?”

Steve rubbed him bottom lip thoughtfully. “I don’t have to go to Dustin’s until 5pm on Sunday, so have them all come at 10am then.”

Robin nodded. “He choose a design then?” she asked, nodded to the paper in his hand.

Steve nodded back his lips pressed together as he handed it to her to scan.

She looked down at it in shock. “He picked this one?”

Steve nodded again, unsure if he could trust himself to speak.

“This is going to take a long time and a lot of money,” Robin whispered. “He’s aware of that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “He knows. He was very insistent and is able to pay for it. All of it.”

Robin nodded. “Then let’s get this bad boy printed for him then.”

She printed it into three pieces. One for each wing and one for the sword.

When he came back into the room, Eddie was laying on his chest with his shirt off. Steve licked his lips as his eyes trailed down the plains of Eddie’s back to where it dipped into the man’s jeans.

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.

“Okay,” Steve said after taking a moment to compose himself. “What we are going to do is trace the outlines and then we’ll spend two to three hours each week, working on it. It will probably take about ten to twelve weeks, doing it once a week. So if you want to move it up two days a week, I would recommend that.”

Eddie twisted to face him. “Yeah, I figured it was going to take some time. When I set up my appointments with Robin, I’ll make sure to do twice a week.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said, pulling on the latex gloves and sitting down. He scooted as close to Eddie as he could and picked his gun.

“You know,” he murmured over the sound of the gun. “I don’t think you ever said why you wanted the tattoo so badly you waited to find the right person to do it for you. And thanks for trusting me with it by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie said. “The work you did on Jeff’s tattoo was phenomenal. It was a very personal tattoo for him and you made it special. Did he tell you how got the scar he wanted you to cover up?”

Steve hummed, placing the first stencil down. “Yeah, something about how when Miranda and him first starting dating, someone called the cops on him, thinking he was kidnapping her. And how despite both of them saying they were on a date and Jeff having his hands up, the cop still fired, hitting his right arm.”

Eddie nodded. “It was messed up. He thought for sure Miranda was going to book it, but they stayed together and it’s been five years now.”

“So he got it for the fifth anniversary?” Steve asked, concentrating on the outline.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It was Miranda’s suggestion, actually.”

“They seem like great people.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “The best. I think he’s still working up the courage to ask her to marry him.”

Steve laughed. “He better hurry up otherwise Robin might try and steal her from him.”

Eddie laughed too. “Well considering they both swing for both teams, she might actually have a chance.”

“Oh god,” Steve said as he finished the first wing. “Don’t tell Robin that. She might actually try. And I don’t want to mess up a good thing, you know?”

“Fair.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip a moment. “But, yeah, the tattoo. It’s to commemorate a poor boy from the trailer park making it in the big city to play music for a living. Actually fucking making it.”

Steve smiled. “And the bat wings were for the aesthetic?”

“Hell yeah they are,” Eddie replied with a grin. “But, holy shit, Stevie. The sword of fucking Kas...it’s like you read my mind or some shit.”

Steve lifted the gun as he laughed. “Nah, I just listened when you and Dustin talked about it.”

Eddie adjusted himself in the chair and loosened the muscles in his shoulders a bit. He settled and nodded. “You did really good, sweetheart. I love it.”

They just fell into conversation as easy as breathing and far too soon Steve was done with the outline.

Steve pulled off his gloves, having set aside the gun already. “Go on, it’s not much to look at right now, but the bare bones are pretty fucking all right.’’

Eddie immediately bounced to his feet to go look in the mirror. He turned every direction and after a moment of watching him Steve stood up with a large hand mirror and tilted it until Eddie could see his back.

Eddie let out a gasp. “Holy fucking shit. This is going to be so epic. I can’t wait!”

Steve smiled fondly. “I’m glad it’s starting out okay, at least.”

Eddie grinned at him through the mirror. “It’s absolutely wicked.”

“Do you have someone who can rub the lotion on your back?” Steve asked, biting his bottom lip.

Eddie nodded. “The guys have offered to take turns helping me with it until it’s done.”

Steve hummed. He was a little disappointed. He was going to offer to do it for him. But it was a bit of a relief, knowing Eddie had such good friends that were willing to take care of him.

“That’s sweet of them,” he murmured, taking the time to gently wrap the tattoo the best he could in Saran wrap to protect it on the way home.

Eddie scoffed. “They only offered because they’re excitable children who want a sneak peak at the tattoo before anyone else.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like what I’d seen of them.”

Eddie turned around once Steve was done and grinned at him. “Am I going to see you at Nightmare Holes again this weekend?”

Steve winced. “I want to but I can’t this weekend. I’m meeting a couple people on Sunday morning morning and I cannot be hungover for that.’

Eddie huffed out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”

Steve shoved at him playfully. “I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you come over again next Monday and I’ll make dinner for us again.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds great, wha’cha making?”

“What do you like?” Steve asked as he cleaned up. “Italian, Chinese, Mexican? Something else? I’m sure I could find a good recipe in time.”

Eddie tapped his lip with his index finger thoughtfully. “Can you do sesame chicken?”

Steve grinned. “Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I love sesame chicken and have a kick ass recipe, I think you’ll love.”

Eddie grinned back. “Can’t wait pretty boy.”

Steve flicked his cleaning rag at Eddie’s ass. “Now go on, some of us poor schlubs have to work hard for our living, rock star.”

Eddie laughed in delight as he skipped away from Steve’s deadly aim with his rag. He got to the door and saluted, before turning on his heel and walking back to the front desk, shirt in hand.

*

Steve picked up a dozen donuts and coffees for him and Robin. Robin had already gone in to open the shop for the interviewees so he felt he owed it to her to at least get her coffee and donuts.

When he got to the shop he was a little surprised how many cars were out front. They couldn’t all be there for the apprenticeship, could they? He walked into see the entire waiting room filled with applicants.

He turned to Robin and she looked as shocked as he was. He set the donuts in front Robin’s desk and handed her the coffee.

“Hello,” he said turning around to greet the...he quickly counted, the six hopefuls. “I’m Steve Harrington and welcome to Royal Pain. You’re all welcome to have a donut and we have water and paper cups over to the side.” He gestured to where it was and most head turned to see where he meant.

“Is this really a tattoo parlor, man?” one of the applicants asked. He was what Steve would have stereotyped a California surfer boy. Bleach blond hair that fell to his shoulders, tanned skin, dark blue eyes that were currently glaring at Steve.

Steve let his shoulders roll back as he regarded the man in question. “What? The bright, colorful design precludes it from being a place people come to get tattoos, how?”

The guy leveled another glare at Steve and then leapt to his feet. “Whatever, this blows. I’m out of here.” He stormed out, pushing the door so hard it clanged against the wall harshly.

Steve looked at the remaining five. “Anyone else have a problem with the aesthetics?”

There were people that exchanged glances, but they ended up all shaking their heads no.

“Good.”

A pretty blonde girl with bright green eyes and a sparkling smile raised her hand.

“Yes?” Steve asked pointing at her.

“Not to be lumped in with the asshole that just left,” she began shyly, “but I really don’t see any tattoos on you and, well...”

Steve grinned. “And it makes it a little hard to trust me as a tattoo artist, right?”

She nodded, her high pony tail bouncing as she did.

Robin rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing. Steve showed her his right forearm. “I didn’t do this one, this is the first tattoo I got though.” It was of a small vanilla ice cream cone. “I got this after my first real job at an ice cream shop that burned down.”

A lot of eyebrows shot up at that, but no one uttered a word.

He pulled at his collar showing a female robin on his shoulder right below the clavicle. “Got this one when my best friend turned twenty-one. She has a matching tattoo in the same place.”

He pulled up his shirt to show a lion devouring a bloody heart on his right side. “My friends called my lion-hearted, my detractors called me a bleeding heart, so I got this.”

Steve put his shirt down. “Yeah, I don’t look like your stereotypical tattoo artist that has their whole body covered in tats. But I’m one of those weirdos that only gets a tattoo if it means something to me. But make no mistake I’m good. I have had this shop for three years and only been a tattooist for five. And I’m taking on apprentices because this shop is so busy I need the help to lighten the load.”

The girl blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, heaving a heavy sigh. “People who look like me don’t usually become tattoo artists and I think that’s stupid. It shouldn’t just be a certain kind of person that has dyed black hair, piercings, and their body of work all over their body.”

She nodded. “I get what you mean.”

Steve smiled at her. “I figured you would.” He knew that if she was any good, he was going to pick her, hands down.

“Right,” he said turning his attention back to everyone. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you and I realize that isn’t fair to you. If you have somewhere else to be today, make an appointment with Robin,” he cocked his head her direction, “and I’ll meet with you personally at another time. But otherwise, I’ll have Robin call you in the order you arrived and we’ll talk in my room.”

He clapped his hands. “First, let’s give you a tour of the place and if you decide it’s not for you. No hard feelings. Except that guy.” He winked at them and they laughed.

He showed them his room and the other rooms that would be for the apprentices to practice in or once they got their own chair if they stayed, it would become their room.

One of the other guys decided that it wasn’t for him and Steve was left with four remaining hopefuls.

And what a strange bunch they were, too. He had the prep girl, but he also had a native boy that while he didn’t look the part of the surfer dude, embodied it with his very soul. If the guy got brought on, Steve would have to pull him aside and make sure he didn’t do marijuana at work, because the guy looked a little baked at the moment. He also had a Goth chick complete with the tattoos and piercings, and dyed black hair. She stuck out like a sore thumb, if Steve was honest. And the final hopeful was  this squirrely looking guy with dark wavy brown hair.

All of them had more tattoos than Steve did.

He sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure this was going to work out. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, better than most, but still as he looked at the remaining applicants he felt a little disappointed.

He sighed and went back to the office to wait for Robin to call the first one in. It was going to be a long day.

***

Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18 Part 19  Part 20  Part 21   Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

Look, I love Robin with all my heart, but we all know the reason she didn’t ask Vickie out wasn’t that she had a boyfriend, but that her partner was a boy. She would 100% back off if told to, but she would so go for it if she thought had a chance. (Looking at you Ronance shippers, if you think that Robin was flirting with Nancy in the Upside Down, Nancy was still with Jonathan at the time.)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination 

[skz-streamer]

Delivery Service

Simptober Romance Tropes M-list

Pairing: Jisung (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Notes: I REALLY LIKED WRITING THISSS I HAD ALOT OF FUNNN :)))) I HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTTTTTTT<3333

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately face claims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As a part time job in college you worked as a delivery driver

nothing to fancy, just delivering boxes n stuff to houses, resturants

whoever needed a package delivered

it was a good way to make money

you were on your last delivery of the day, delivering a new fryer to a fried chicken place, fried chicken sounded really good rn

maybe you would get some after dropping the package off

you pulled into the back exit of the restaurant and took the box out of the truck

it was heavy omg

in some kind of pick up attempt you stumbled down the ramp of the truck leaving the package behind and you tumbling down

well at least the package was safe

you felt someones hand on your back "you okay?"

you looked up

"yeah im okay, thanks" you replied

it was a cute guy, you assumed he worked here by the looks of his apron

he asked if you wanted help with the box, you agreed

thankfully the two of you placed the box inside the place without anyone falling

you thanked him and asked for his name

"jisung! but you can just call me Han, it dosnt really really matter" he blushed a little and you noticed it

ahhh he really was cute

"hey! you wanna eat something?" he asked

you nodded happily, aksing if he wanted to join you

so the two of you sat down at a small table in the backlit was closing time anyways so no customers

the two of you just talked about random stuff, studies, relationships, family

You realized that Jisung was really sweet and caring

he was a great listener (and gossiper)

you swear half of time just went into both of you guys bursting out in laughter

it was around 10 and you knew you had to leave

you thanked him for the food (he treated obviii) and said that you would buy next time

He smiled a the mention that there would be a next time

--------

The next time you delivered was about a week later

You were happy to meet Jisung again but when you showed up you realized he wasn't there, gladly they didn't order anything heavy so you took it inside yourself

Maybe he didn't work today

you left the place sad, you were looking forward to meet him

you waited for the day that the resturaunt would place another order, but nothing came in

You decided you would just go there, whatever

you didn't need an excuse to see him

When you showed up you saw him at the cashier's desk

you ran up to him smiling"heyyy!!!!" you said

he looked up from the register and immediately smiled

"hi! I missed you, my breaks in about 10 we can talk then if you want"

"sure!!!" you happily said, gosh why were you so giddy around him

When his break came around the two of you need up going to the dessert store next door

he mentioned that the shop wasn't doing too good and that it might shut down

you comforted him and told him you can always hook him up with delivery if something goes wrong ;)

he laughed and thanked you

and just like that the two of you exchanged numbers and recently had get togethers and meeting from now to then

Both of you became inseparable, you would stay at eachotehrs houses and binge watch animes, play board games, anything really

you just felt free around him, free to be yourself, free from your worries. it was nice :)

one day you decided to surprise him at work and you showed up to the shop, but it was closed.

you remembered him talking about the shop closing but you didn't think it really would

You texted him asking if he was doing okay

He replied back asking if he could stay at your place a little, everything at his was a mess

Apparently the owners of the chicken shop also owned that apartment that Han lived in, so when the shop went down so did hans apartment

You told him that he was more then welcome to stay at your place

So at about 11 in the night Han pulled up to your apartment

gosh your here late you said

he grumbled about packing and stuff but you could tel that overall he was happy to stay with you

you asked if he knew how many days he would be staying to which he responded idk

you let him know that he could stay as long and he wanted to :)

naturally, over the next few days the two of you had a lot of fun together

you even got a noise complaint once

------

It was late in the night, or rather early morning as the clock read 12:36am

the two of you were staying up binging new season of the show that you liked

he was sitting up while your head lay in his lap

him fiddling with your hair ever now and then and you drawing small shapes into his arm

That's when you knew, you caught feelings

you didn't want to make it awkward between the two of you but he was so perfect

you wished you could just stay like tis forever

you adjusted yourself and turned to the side

Han noticed this and grabbed the blanket from behind it, draping it over you

"thanks Hannie" you mumbled

Han blused at the nickname

you had never called him this, did it just slip out of your mouth?

You had already drifted into sleep and hadn't even noticed that you referred to him as 'Hannie'

Han placed his hand on your arm hugging you into him, admiring your soft breaths and smooth hair tickling his arm

That's when he knew

he was in love with you

but he didn't want to ruin your friendship

he too fell asleep with you in his arms

he would tell you soon, you would tell him soon

@anny-bah@eee5533@mixtape-racha@weedforthoughtz@ren0325@felixvsp@hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno@herarcadewasteland@dabiscrustyfeet@kai-jilee@sungiesoonie@slvtty4channiee@revelaffee@buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids@jinnie-ret@bbygrlhannie@rebecca-johnson-28 @turtledove824@interstellarairwaves@yearofthetiger25@minhos4thkitty@fiqire@kpopmenace143@liknws@tinyelfperson@aaasia111@yangbbokari@hafsah-ali@sleepyleeji@skzhoes@yamaguchiwestad@leonswifesstuff@nappynapnaps

[thissortofsorcery]

6. Coffee in bed

Babe, I wasn't put on earth to be brief, so. Hope you like this! Once again we hop on the Steve loving on Billy train. I had a lot of fun writing it.

I appreciate your prompt so much &lt;3

-----

i want coffee >:((((

Is what Billy sends in the group chat in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday, fighting to keep his eyes open. He can't just give in and have a nap. He has a paper due next week, and Billy's never been the kind of person that believes in leaving things for the last minute, so he's got his laptop and his textbook and his notes from class spread around him on the bed, and he's going to get the bulk of this hell assignment done today. If he doesn't fall asleep.

Billy would get up and get coffee for himself, except he's very comfortable and he just found a nice position for his back. He doesn't want to get up.

Heather: i remember seeing a coffee maker in your kitchen

Heather: you could use that

Billy: don't wanna get up tho

Chrissy: are you about to fall asleep?

Billy: might be

Chrissy: I can call you in 30 mins if you want to nap

Billy: no im gonna fight it

Tommy: just take the nap dude

Heather: the coffee is 10 feet and 5 minutes away

Steve: did you eat?

Confusion pulls Billy's eyebrows together, and he waits for another text to come elaborating the question, but nothing does. In fact, the whole group chat stalls.

Billy: not yet

And Steve sends him a thumbs up. 

Billy rolls his eyes, and tosses his phone to the side. Steve makes no damn sense, sometimes. He's got this whole pretty boy, midwestern nice guy going for him, which Billy has to admit is charming as hell, and a line of chicks wanting to date him, but he never wants to date any of them. Billy is relieved, a little bit. If he had to watch Steve fall in love with someone while sharing an apartment with him, he'd lose his fucking mind, on account of the huge crush Billy's had on him since freshman year.

He really should get back to his paper, or he's gonna be stuck working on it until late.

Billy rubs his eyes blearily and turns his music a little louder, puts Kill 'Em All on loop because it never fails to fire him up. The guitar notes fill the room and make his eyelids feel a little lighter, make his limbs feel a little looser, and Billy jiggles his feet to the beat of the song while he takes notes on the library book he's reading. He can already imagine some of the paragraphs he wants to write in his head.

About an hour later, Billy's managed to outline some of his topics, but his eyelids are getting heavy again. His body feels like it's sinking into the bed, and all he wants is to burrow into his hoodie and curl up into a ball. Billy yawns and covers his face, letting out a long groan. Maybe he can close his eyes for five minutes. 

The sound of keys jingling on the front door of the apartment jerk him awake, and he opens his eyes like he's been hit over the head.

"Billy?" Steve's voice sounds from the living room. There's some shuffling, then Steve's head pops in his open door. "Hey."

Billy squints at Steve, takes in his swept up hair, the jacket he hasn't bothered to take off, and the soft smile spreading on his face as he looks at Billy, eyes shining, looking awfully fond in a way that makes Billy's chest hurt.

"You fell asleep," He says, and his voice is fond too.

"I didn't."

"You so did," Steve laughs, and comes into the room. He's wearing socks, because he hates shoes indoors, and he pushes something at Billy when he reaches his side. "Brought you coffee. And uh, a sandwich, cause you said you didn't eat."

Billy blinks at the to-go cup in Steve's right hand, trying to figure out if he's still dreaming, still caught in the haze of his subconscious fed by wishful thinking, because he can't imagine why Steve would stop to buy him coffee on his way back home. 

"You what?" It comes out sharp, meaner than he'd meant to, and Billy immediately cringes.

But Steve just laughs.

"Jesus, you're grumpy," He shakes the coffee cup at Billy. "You have that paper due monday, and you're gonna be bitchy all day tomorrow if you don't do anything for it today. Drink your coffee."

Billy's mouth falls open, and he can only listen to Steve's words repeating themselves in his mind while he traces Steve's features with his eyes – the playful angle of his eyebrows, the endless brown in his eyes, fixed on Billy, how his mouth curves softly upwards, deliciously red. He's wide awake, now.

Billy feels himself being pulled upwards by invisible strings, unable to look away from Steve. He gets his knees under himself and straightens up, hands stretched out, finding the perfect angle of Steve's jaw, thumbs nestled in the hollow of his cheeks. Steve's smile has given way to shock, and Billy would have pulled back if Steve hadn't swayed into him, eyelids fluttering, breath stuttering, eyes jumping between Billy's eyes and his mouth.

When their lips meet it's sweet, it's tender, it's more than Billy thought it could be, because Steve sighs into the kiss like he's relieved, sucks on Billy's lips like he's hungry, molds his body to Billy's like he never wants to feel cold air between their bodies again. Billy welcomes Steve's tongue like a cool drink, like fresh water, begs for more of it when it retreats. Billy can't get enough of it, can't get enough of him, not now that he has it.

Steve presses more sweet kisses on his lips once the first one breaks, like he can't bear for it to end, and Billy revels in it, on the soft, fluttering feeling they ignite in his chest. Steve's kissing him like he's something to be savored, a delight to be enjoyed carefully and slowly and patiently. It makes Billy's breath catch in his chest, and he wants to hold on to Steve, to clutch him tightly.

It ends with Steve's nose stroking along Billy's cheek, sending shivers down Billy's spine. He's clinging to Steve with his hands in Steve's hair, taking deep breaths under the guise of slowing his breathing down, but really he's taking in Steve's smell, the warm, woodsy tones of him under the apple scent of his shampoo. 

"Hey," Steve murmurs against his skin. Billy's grip on him tightens, and Steve kisses his cheek, maybe to assure him that what's coming isn't bad. "Your coffee's going cold."

It startles a laugh out of Billy. He'd forgotten about the coffee.

He pulls back just enough so Steve can disentangle his arm and hand Billy the cup, and when he takes a sip, it's on the hotter end of warm. 

"It's good," Billy says, and the smile Steve gives him is wide and toothy.

"I, uh…" Steve fumbles to put the sandwich bag he was still holding on Billy's bedside table, then settles a hand on Billy's waist. It's the first touch of Steve's hands on him, and it burns deliciously. "I should– let you get back to your paper."

Steve ducks his head, hair flopping into his eyes, suddenly looking shy. Like he's not sure Billy wants him to stick around.

Billy sets the coffee cup aside. He winds his arms around Steve's waist, draws him close, so he has no doubt of where Billy wants him to go.

"Screw the paper," Billy says, and Steve stares at him with his mouth open. "Come here."

And Steve kisses him.

-----

send me a number from this list of soft prompts

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 6 Prompt: Heat @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 995 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty shook his head clear and refocused on the mostly empty road ahead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t busy in the off-season. Not many were foolish enough to travel to the coast in the winter, especially in a car without heat.

The sun mocked him through a cloudless sky, bouncing absurdly cheerful light off of the hood and directly into his eyes. He fumbled for the sunglasses tucked into his visor and shoved them on his face. Relaxing a bit, he leaned back and grabbed his phone. Barty rolled the scratched-up silver case on its edge over and over on his thigh. When the screen woke up mid-spin, he glanced at it hopefully.

No notifications. Of course.

By the time he reached the signs for the Prince of Wales bridge, Barty was seriously considering a detour into the river. If he wasn’t already regretting his life choices, and there weren’t a massive green metal barrier, the decision would be so easy.

Best not to start trusting myself now.

Barty inhaled deeply as he stared at the cables rising to the outline of an enormous letter “h” that straddled M4’s six lanes. Bridges fucked with his head, especially long ones running over water like this. Movie scenes of bridges cracking open like a fresh, crisp baguette toyed with his mind.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The moment his front tires passed the shoreline to England’s soil, Barty deflated. He was one hour in and already drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any clarity this road trip brought him earlier was lost to him now. He just wanted to crash onto his crappy sofa and stay there. Not moving for a week sounded so bloody good, but he was expected at work tomorrow.

When the opening bars of Never Let You Go drifted through his speakers, Barty tensed again. The chorus of this one hit a little too close to home.

Suddenly, his screen lit up as his mobile buzzed against his denim-covered thigh. Evan’s face appeared on his screen and Barty jerked the wheel as he screeched to a halt on the shoulder and narrowly avoided scraping the barrier. He fumbled with his phone as his stomach lurched violently.

“Rosie?”

The other end was silent except for the steady tap tap tap of Evan’s rings against the phone he was holding. Barty knew that sound intimately, but not the tempo. Evan was agitated.

His heart beat doubled and his chest clenched in panic. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know how it could get worse, but it was about to and the dread was overwhelming.

Shite shite shite!

“Before you hang up…I’m sor-sorry I didn’t tell you about Regulus. When I realised that you were friends, I shou-should have.”

Barty’s ears thrummed with his own rapid heart beat as he strained to listen for a response. After another long silence, he released a ragged breath and added, “And I’m sorry for going after your sister yesterday. I was….that doesn’t matter. I’m sober now and I hate myself for acting like that.”

“That makes two of us.”

His heart plummeted to the floorboards. “Please don’t say that, Rosie. I swear—”

“Don’t call me that,” Evan said. His voice was flat and clipped.

“Oh, right.” A chill ran down Barty’s spine and he struggled to find the words he’d practised in case Evan actually answered one of his calls. “Evan, I—”

“Not that either.”

Barty closed his eyes and repressed the urge to beg for forgiveness. There was no hope of that in Evan’s tone. This was going to hurt, he could sense it. The hammer was already pulled back and the trigger was twitching.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good, because we are nothing to each other,” Evan snapped cruelly. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Crouch, and if you come near my sister again—”

“I won’t!” Barty cried out, shaking with the effort to hold himself together. “Please, please don’t—”

The line went dead.

“No! No no no nonono!” He quickly tapped on Evan’s picture to call back. “Please pick up! Please, please, please.”

A robotic voice informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed. His hands trembled as he texted Evan, pleading with him. The text didn’t go through. Barty stared at his screen in disbelief.

“He-He’s…I can’t…oh fuck.”

His body crumpled against the steering wheel as a shudder rushed through him. He was numb from head to toe. The hole carved out of his chest deepened until it hit curled his vertebrae. No thoughts, no emotions.

Moving on instinct alone, Barty opened his car door, stumbled out of the road, and collapsed before he emptied his stomach. His limbs quivered beneath his weight until he flopped onto his back. He swiped at his mouth and groaned at the sharp burn that raced up his throat.

He rolled away from the open car door and forced himself to push upright. The endless expanse of the river where it joined the sea spread out before him. Barty stared unblinkingly at the waves as they lapped the shore, rhythmic and repetitive.

This is it. Rock-fucking-bottom.

A hollow laugh burst from his chest, but quickly died out. It hurt to laugh. Hell, it hurt to breathe!

He hauled himself to his feet, then stepped unsteadily toward the edge where the tall barrier ended. With slow, measured steps, he climbed the short rail and headed down the slope toward the shore. Barty studied the muddy, frigid water as his boots sank with every step into the soft soil. The height of the bridge created a terrifying vantage of the water, but from here it looked tame.

Water was cleansing, that was a common belief. A refreshing drink for a parched throat, moisture for dry skin, and the perfect conduit for soap. Standing here before a river wide enough to swallow an entire city whole was humbling.

I would only make short-lived splash.

With a short burst of adrenaline, Barty ran forward, threw his arm back, and flung his mobile into the river. It disappeared beneath the waves without a sound. No splash, no interruption.

Inconsequential.

Next Part>>>

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #325

I'm definitely going to need to send my laptop away to get the screen replaced; it has seen much better days:

It's still kinda holding together. But there are lines of dead pixels on the bottom left side, so I imagine it's only a matter of time before the screen goes completely kaput. Lame...

I wasn't nearly as productive today as on previous days. I think doing all that cooking and all those dishes really pissed off whatever's wrong with the upper right quadrant of my body (at this point, I suspect serratus posterior superior dysfunction of some kind...). When I went to PT today (weird day of the week for it, I know...), the trapezius and the rhomboids on my right side got mashed up, and now the whole area is super pissed, and it's kinda hard to move or breathe or do anything.

On the bright side, I did get to talk with that Canadian immigration lawyer today. I'll tell you all about him, but after I get his permission to do so in this space.

Still, I have the first few steps of the process of getting out of here outlined. First, we have to take an English test called an IELTS, and also get our academic credentials evaluated by a Canadian company of some kind, in order to make sure they're up to snuff for Canadian employers.

Well, as it turns out, we cannot take the IELTS without passports. And, though J and I have ours, M's expired over a decade ago, so we had to go to an appointment to get a new one. It's not going to get to our house for another 6-8 weeks, though. We'll have to wait before we schedule the test. But we should be able to get our academic credentials evaluated. I'll look into that process tomorrow.

...I forgot to eat for most of today. Before leaving for physical therapy, I did stuff a couple slices of cold cuts into my mouth, but that's hardly substantial. My appetite has been kinda weird these last couple days. At around 7pm or 8pm, though, I remembered that my body needs fuel. So I made a salad:

It's got mixed greens, tomatoes, onions, black beans, goat cheese, scrambled egg, and crushed Fritos in it. And then I put ranch dressing on top. Want some...?

I made some tea to go with it; that vanilla bean macaron tea. Here:

...These aren't the best swirls, I know. I think the focus must have been off, and I didn't notice until it was too late. Sorry about that.

…

...I spent most of the rest of today just floundering, partially numb, and foggy of brain. I wanted to play Oddworld, but... I just couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to doodle, but... I dunno. Even with a plan spelled out and things to tentatively look forward to, it's still kinda hard to think.

I guess I'm still a little sad that so many people voted for someone who wants to kill me and my little family and almost all of the people I love.

...I just... want to live a life in which everyone gets to be happy and safe. And I know that this could happen if everyone worked together, but there's so many different people with so many different kinds of trauma, and all of them have their own ideas about which kinds of people do and don't deserve to live (there's no such thing as a person who doesn't deserve to live). I wish for a world in which it was easier for folks to cast aside the conditioning they received that teaches them to associate the worth of themselves and of others with silly, arbitrary things.

We are all the same in that we want to live in peace with people we love. And given that everyone wants that, it shouldn't be so hard to do, but... a lot of people get taught that the only way they can live happily is if some other group of people defined by arbitrary characteristics didn't exist, and... I think that's really sad. It's really sad that some people truly do believe, for example, that the only way they can be happy and safe is if every single person with dark skin and every single person who was ever at any point related to someone with dark skin ceased being alive.

...I just wanna live someplace where we aren't near people who would be happy to kill us. I think everyone wants that. And this shouldn't be a difficult thing to find in my world, but... here we are.

...Well. One step at a time. We'll follow the immigration process one step at a time, and hope for good things. But... ya know. If there's any chance you can just “zoop” us all over to where you are... I certainly wouldn't be opposed. You could use the company. And I could use a nap.

No, I know; it's impossible. I know. But it's still nice to think about. I'll just keep making preparations to protect my little family, and I'll do whatever I can for the others around me in the meantime. I'll write the steps to the immigration process as we go through it; maybe it'll help someone else, somehow.

Suppose I'll stop writing for today. I feel like if I keep going, I'm gonna ramble on ya (if I haven't already). And I feel like I'm a bit too weird in the brain right now to express myself particularly well in any case.

Don't worry. I'm tired and feeling kinda sad and lost, but I'm not down for the count – not while I have people to protect.

Tomorrow is when M and I decided to celebrate our wedding anniversary this year. It'll be our 10th year of marriage, though we've been together for 12. I can't believe how quickly the time has passed. I can't believe he hasn't gotten tired of me yet, hahaha...

We're gonna go to a sushi place to celebrate. It'll be me and J and M all together at the place we ate on the day we got married. Maybe I'll tell you more about that tomorrow.

I love you a whole lot. And I'll write again tomorrow. So please stay safe out there, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[starcurtain]

Haikaveh Fanfics I Want to Read (Part 2)

<- Part 1.

Part 3. ->

1. The Palace of Alcarzarzaray might be called Kaveh’s magnum opus, but actually, it was more like a kick-start for his career. Kaveh hasn’t known a moment of peace since, with constant commissioners begging for him to choose their projects. The longer his waiting list gets, the more his fame grows and grows... So when a pair of people come out of the woodwork insisting they’re Kaveh’s sort-of-estranged mother and stepfather, Alhaitham thinks it’s only right to be skeptical.

Kaveh agrees (for once). Is this really Faranak? She seems so different... But then again, so many years have passed since Kaveh saw her last, and she’s wearing the very same necklace he remembers... And they’re being so nice to him, and apparently he’s got siblings, and they haven't asked him for anything; they say they never meant to let him grow apart, and they love him, and--and--how could he just turn them away? What if it’s true?

What if he has a chance at a real family again?

Of course, when these so-called parents start encouraging Kaveh to move back to Fontaine with them, Alhaitham becomes determined to unravel the lie and show them for the imposters they (almost) certainly are.

It’s only because it irks him to see people twist the truth and get away with it. It’s only because the logical step is to point out obvious manipulations when you spot them.

It’s got nothing at all to do with how empty the house will feel if Kaveh isn’t in it.

Nothing at all.

  Rest under the read more:

2. Okay, listen. The fact that Kaveh and Alhaitham are both 12s out of 10 does not change the fact that they’re also MASSIVE NERDS. The fic is just silly snippets of them being the graduate school gremlins they most definitely are:

Is it even fighting if all you are doing is reciting academic citations at each other?  

Saturday night, we are both at home doing nothing but debating over the rules to an ancient word game that we’ve mostly pieced together from the barest disconnected snippets of apocrypha and one oblique reference in a single receipt of sale from 1600 years ago, because we are Normal™. The most normal people in Sumeru, even.  

How Althaitham flirts: Practicing his newest language acquisition by translating nothing but obscure ancient love letters (“Well, they could have had romantic intention but we shouldn’t allow modern interpretations to color our perceptions without thorough analysis of their semantic contexts and candid awareness of the moral obligation of the translator to avoid speculation on connotations which might privilege biased readings--”). Then he heaps his transcriptions all over the top of Kaveh’s desk and chair and bed and...  

How Kaveh flirts: “I built you a bookshelf.”   (“I take back every uncharitable thing I’ve said about architecture this week.”   “It is both climate-controlled and self-dusting. Also, it will catalog which books are missing after they’re removed from the shelf and remind you when it’s time to put them back in place so that you’re not tempted to leave your moldy tomes all over my--”   “So who is this bookshelf actually for?”)  

“See, I’m allowed to criticize his work, but you, peon, are absolutely not. Here is my 50-page rebuttal of your recent article critiquing the architect Kaveh’s research, in which I will outline exactly why you are an incomparable idiot who should be disbarred from publication ever again. Very uncordially, Alhaitham”  

The only time Alhaitham and Kaveh are unequivocally, indisputably, and inseparably a T E A M: Tavern Trivia Night. (The schedule for tavern trivia night is shortly thereafter altered to: “Any time in which Kaveh and Alhaitham are not on the premises. The management apologizes in advance for last minute trivia night cancellations, but asks patrons to please respect the rule that not even a single trivia question be spoken in the presence of the Light of Kshahrewar or the Akademiya’s scribe.”)

In other words, two geniuses live their very best lives together.

  3. When Prince Alhaitham's viziers started nagging about his lack of spouse to ensure an heir, he dismissed them out of hand. But the truth is, he can't inherit the full privileges of his family's throne (including unfettered access to the kingdom's collection of forbidden records) unless he upholds an ancient peace treaty between his country and their most useful trading neighbor: to become king of Haravatat, he has to marry a citizen of Kshahrewar. Alhaitham isn't the type to bow to social or legal pressure, but if it means he might finally be able to further his research, well, he's willing to swear even a marriage oath to get the knowledge he desires.

But he's not willing to marry anyone unworthy. He's not willing to marry anyone boring, or rote, or feeble-minded, or ill-tempered, or shrill, or under-educated, or ambivalent, or weak, or too polite, or--

If Kshahrewar is going to insist on a political marriage, then Alhaitham will insist on accepting only the best.

But now things are starting to look grim. Prince Alhaitham has interviewed and dismissed (in no polite terms), every eligible Kshahrewar maiden and and no small number of their eligible men besides. For Alhaitham, this is but a formality on his way to further reading, but for the Kingdom of Kshahrewar, real fears are stirring--if they can't find an acceptable candidate soon, the peace treaty that has ensured their alliance with Haravatat’s military-might could dissolve, and already the neighboring powers of Vahumana and Spantamad have been testing the boundaries of their borders...

Entirely out of options, the nervous kingdom gives in and sends the last person they'd want to lose: the Light of Kshahrewar, their beloved architect and most renowned scholar.

But it's all right, because Kaveh has a Plan®.

All right, admittedly, the plan was a lot closer to "Be way too beautiful to reject" than "Argue all night and wake up just to argue again," but hey, whatever works?

(Also known as: The Thousand and One Nights AU where Alhaitham's not quite crazy enough to kill the people he rejects but will crush their self-confidence; Kaveh's not great at telling stories but is great at debate; and the ultimate outcome is still the same very cliffhangery happy ever after.)

  4. If you asked Kaveh Kshahrewar, on-call urban planner for the city of Sumeru, he would expound at length and with several melodramatic sighs upon the fact that his life is fraught with a great many challenges and his fortunes are fraught with a great many (obvious in retrospect) mistakes.

To put it simply, Kaveh will tell you he just has rotten luck.

If you were to ask the High Council of Principalities of the Fifth Ring of the Host of Heaven, they would tell you that Kaveh’s luck is actually quite good... for a person being hunted by the dark legions of Hell itself.

There are some exceptional humans upon whom the wheels of fate are hung, whose very existence is destined to bring beautiful things to the world, to tip the balance in the eternal fight between good and evil firmly toward good. Kaveh is one such person, and therefore all his life he’s been a target of unseen forces that would rather ensure his light is snuffed out.

But that last near-death experience was too close. If Kaveh is left to his own devices much longer, he very likely will perish, long before he’s able to achieve his fated great works for the world. Heaven has to do something.

Alhaitham is a very, very efficient Principality. Maybe the most efficient Principality the Host of Heaven has. But he’s never--not once since the beginning of creation--been called on to actually guard a human. Yes, yes, of course he’s read the manual cover to closing, but...

But no one thought to warn him that they were so very emotional.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!”

“I’m your guardian angel. I live here now.”

“911, I need to report a home invasion in progress! Please send help, there is a lunatic eating raw butter out of my fridge!”

(Or: The guardian angel AU where Kaveh is disaster prone because he is Very Cursed, and Alhaitham is even weirder than normal because his frame of reference for humans is still “wears fig leaves.” It’s a tragicomedy in six acts: Kaveh’s going to change the world for the better. His future is already written in stone. And nowhere in that record is there anything about falling in love with an angel, so Alhaitham knows he’s not supposed to be anything more than a bit part in this grand story.

Too bad Kaveh’s always sympathized with the side characters most.)

  5. During an exploratory trip to the desert ruins looking for remnants of the Deshret Script, lone researcher Alhaitham discovers a strange--and, in fact, magical--teapot, containing none other than a beautiful (but rather noisy) djinn.

“My name is Kaveh.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I’m a djinn.”

“I can tell.”

“I’ll grant you three wishes, if and only if--”

“Five wishes.”

“What?”

“You should grant me five wishes.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked politely.”

“You absolutely did not! Ugh, fine, I’ll grant you five wishes. But only--and I mean only!--if you’ll agree to set me free at the end.”

“All right, I swear.”

But where are they now?! Kaveh is getting desperate. It’s been six months, and Alhaitham hasn’t made a single wish! At this rate, Kaveh will never get free! He’ll be stuck bunking in a house full of tacky furniture, being tricked into doing the laundry and sweeping forever! This is so unfair; how is it even allowed?! Alhaitham is human; he has to have some kind of wish in that stone-thick head of his!

(The truth is, Alhaitham does have a wish. It just can’t be granted.

He swore an oath to set Kaveh free, after all.)

[logically-asexual]

i wasn’t going to post this outline because i had faith when i started it that i would quickly be able to finish it and write it into a proper fic to post. but after several weeks of being stuck i am beginning to lose hope so i’m sharing it here as it is:

set at some point during season 3

mayura and hawkmoth were on the streets following a lead on the guardian’s house, but nathalie was feeling so sick she involuntarily detransformed and they couldn’t keep going.

Hawkmoth brings her to hide in an alley to check on her. she says she was fine, just tired, but hawkmoth refuses to leave her. then nathalie suggests he transforms back so they can walk home together. he agrees but before he can do anything

they are caught by Ladybug and Cat Noir. Hawkmoth pushes nathalie to the side and faces the heroes.

Ladybug and Cat Noir ask what he’s up to. he says it’s none of their business. Nathalie tries to think quickly of a lie to cover them: she steps forward and says “kids, don’t worry. he wants me to give him a book mr agreste owns that apparently has information about the miraculous. i already told him i’d get it for him and no one had to get hurt.”

“you should listen to the secretary” hawkmoth holds her by her arm/shoulder “you can leave now and no one gets hurt.”

“we cant let you get away with it” ladybug says as they pull out their weapons. cat noir says “let go of her now!”

it’s clear from his voice but also hawkmoth can feel that cat noir is very nervous. he wonders if the boy has some personal issues that make him so worked up about seeing the woman in danger. and concludes that he should use it to his advantage.

hawkmoth teases if he has a personal connection to this woman, then grabs nathalie closer, pressing the cane against her neck and tells them that he changed his mind. give him the miraculous so nathalie doesn’t get hurt.

nathalie doubts for a moment if she should worry about her safety, since hawkmoth can be reckless and unpredictable. panic in her face is visible for the heroes and strong enough for hawkmoth to feel, and he relaxes the press on her throat slightly.

hawkmoth also threatens that he will kill her if they call their powers

at first ladybug is trying to think of a plan but hawkmoth is counting down or pressuring them in some way and cat noir is extremely stressed and neither of those things is allowing her to concentrate. she pretends to give up like she usually does when she’s in a tight spot like this, while she analyses their surroundings to come up with something.

but this time cat noir can’t take it and jumps into action. he is extremely quick so maybe even if hawkmoth did want to hurt nathalie he wouldn’t have had time to react before cat noir kicked his weapon away. however if he didn’t care about her he probably wouldn’t have instinctively moved to shield her after losing the cane.

in the chaos ladybug calls the luck charm. she tries to start a plan that involves it but it’s hard when cat noir is being so reckless.

cat noir is super angry. he yells at hawkmoth and jumps around him trying to find an angle to attack but it’s impossible with him holding nathalie so close. hawkmoth plays along with banter which only makes cat noir angrier.

cat noir jumps behind hawkmoth, who turns around fast, which leaves them in a position where nathalie is behind him and cat noir finally has an opening. he goes to cataclysm the butterfly miraculous, but nathalie gets in the way and he hits her right on the center of her chest.

they’re all shocked like why the fuck did she do that!!!!!!

she falls to the floor as her skin begins turning into ash.

hawkmoth and cat noir lean beside her. cat noir is openly panicking and hawkmoth is too but he has a small part of his brain still trying to hold back from saying something that reveals his identity.

cat noir turns to ladybug and screams at her to fix it. for half a second she hesitates because she had come up with a plan to finally defeat hawkmoth, but cat noir says NOW!! and she immediately throws the lucky charm in the air and the swarm of ladybugs surround them.

the ladybugs leave and they all look to find nathalie now healed from the cataclysm. she is physically fine but still dizzy, tired, and trembling. a beat goes by when everyone is relieved, but then ladybug looks at hawkmoth, ready to finish this.

he notices this and acts quickly. he akumatizes nathalie, using mostly the fear she’s feeling. she turns into a knight and protects him as they run away.

cat noir and ladybug try to make sense of the situation. if he akumatized nathalie then it means she wasn’t akumatized when she protected him. maybe its some kind of stockholm syndrome case??

and here is where i get stuck.

i want conversations to happen between nathalie and adrien and between nathalie and gabriel after this, but i don’t know in what order or how to make them happen.

in adrien’s case i want him to first be suspicious about what happened and while he talks to nathalie and she tries to defend herself he figures out somehow that she was helping hawkmoth. not necessarily that hawkmoth is his father or that nathalie is mayura but the way nathalie speaks about hawkmoth makes it clear to him that she’s on his side. and he feels betrayed and snaps at her and nathalie can’t lie to him and she knows he’s right to be angry so she does nothing to stop him when he leaves.

and with gabriel i have zero idea. i want him to first yell at her, he tells her off for putting their identities at risk of being found, but what he is really angry about is for scaring him so much. but he doesn’t tell her that. he’s still in shock about almost losing her and of course his way of “dealing” with it is with rage.

and this outburst only makes nathalie upset because he doesn’t care about her, he only cares about keeping his secret. not that she does what she does for his approval, she does it because she loves him. but it still hurts.

and then i don’t know where i would want the conversation to go from there. maybe gabriel and nathalie have this fight first, then he leaves her room and in comes adrien for what i described above, and then later, after having time to think nathalie and gabriel speak again.

he finally confesses how scared he was for her but also how grateful he is for everything she does. and it’s very beautiful and there’s almost a love confession there. almost.

no idea what to do about adrien though. i just. like this idea of him being angry at nathalie for helping hawkmoth but they just can’t talk about it because nathalie doesn’t want to confess anymore than what he already figured out and she’s got nothing to defend herself. don’t know how to fix that.

that’s all i got. maybe at some point later i’ll figure out a way to make this into a coherent story. for now have this.

[roadandruingame]

RaR Musings #24: The Pillars, and Foundations

I wrote this like seven times and then a power failure killed it, so now I get to do it again! And keep it brief!

I watched a PointyHat youtube video on Why Travel Sucks in DND, where he outlines such issues as lack of creativity, excessive bookkeeping, random tables, and failing the non-combat pillars of DND, while he presents an alternative he'd worked on for two years and was quite happy with.

It sucks.

It's nothing against PointyHat, or his system, no; it's good that he has fun with it, and that it presents some better, stronger harder faster more reliable and predictable patterns to help structure campaigns that take place on the road.

It simply sucks, in that it is attempting to utilize the three 'pillars' of Dungeons and Dragons, being Combat, Roleplay, and Exploration, which has always been less of a triad, and more of a single, enormously looming single pillar that more resembles flipping the bird to the other two.

Dungeons and Dragons commits some >80% of it's rules and character-building options to combat. If you rolled a bunch of dice, to randomize combatants and equipment, initiative order, attack rolls and damage inflicted, you could still qualitatively read those numbers to determine who had won the combat, the human fighter with the axe, or the goblin with the shortsword. The "order" of the mechanics for combat allows this to occur. "Roleplay" and "Exploration", however, both cap out their rules at "roll a d20 and add your proficiency modifier, if whatever imaginary scenario we're pretending is happening calls for it, and if the number is high enough, You Win."

A system simplifying travel to "a number of events per distance" presents the same mechanics as what a hexgrid entails, just without the risk of player agency and going off-road, because, truthfully, the biggest threat to a good story is the players themselves. A DM might have spent hours, days, weeks, months, or even years curating a perfectly constructed narrative, but all it takes is for one wayward die roll or a player saying "nah, I'm not doing that", and the DM suddenly requires expect-level improv, comedy, literary novelist, and "know it all" expertise that rivals the likes of McGuiver himself to pull a satisfying narrative out of thin air. Preventing player choice from entering the matter of "what direction do we go" might lessen the load of the DM, but it puts the entire experience on rails, tourists at a fantasy-land theme park of the DM's creation, here to ride the rides, and then get out.

A system that neglects provisions and supplies renders those unusable as storytelling elements, when food, supplies, a bath, and good rest in a town are often what propels characters to those locations, on their way to a greater destination, and without them, there's no need to have towns at all. PointyHat himself uses clips from Avatar: The Last Airbender in his video, a series that spends more than half the runtime somewhere out on the road, complaining that they have no food, no money, need a bath, medicine, or some other side objective that requires them to make detours or stops along the way.

But, all of this did manage to pose an interesting question to me, even beyond "what mechanics SHOULD be used for Roleplay and Exploration":

What are the pillars of TTRPGS themselves? If a game has no combat, what replaces it? Is roleplay a universal element to ttrpgs? If PointyHat's system "recommends tying events between locations together with story", but otherwise has no mechanics for how to actually do that, then clearly that's an important element as well, but what defines Exploration? If there is combat, does defeat end in death, some other consequence, or no consequence at all, and if there are variable consequences, who decides what they are, and if there are no consequences, then what's even the point?

After thinking about it for a while, I decided that ttrpgs consist of three pillars, that I'm calling the Three R's:

RELATIONSHIPS - Rather than exclusively between people, Relationships can also be called Story; that is, anything that ties consequence and causality to the experience. Falling off a cliff, and taking damage from the fall, is a relationship, the same as failing to deliver a package and losing a merchant's trust is a relationship, or being able to translate runes, that leads you to a secret room that's filled with treasure. This element is singularly ignored by most tabletop RPGs, instead putting more work into a box of tools that you can use to Cause, or help bandage up after an Effect, but very little that actually ties one thing to another in a way that forms a story.

REALISM - Also called predictability and reliability, these are facets of the game that can be trusted to work the same way every time. Need one scrap of food per day, and travelling for seven days? That's seven pieces of food. Fire burns, water douses, grass grows, birds fly, sun shines, and fighters hurt people. This reliability is the bulk of 'eurogames', and heavily prioritize player skill over randomness like 'ameritrash' does. Predictability and consistency is necessary in a fantasy world especially, in order to communicate to the players what kind of moves are even possible to do, so that the fighter doesn't think they can 1v1 a five-tonne dragon. This is also the element of resources, where a resource spent or lost consistently has predictable consequences and effects: using a bandage stops bleeding, for example.

RANDOMNESS - Also called chance, and statistical probabilities, this element ends up bearing the brunt of most dice- or card-oriented games, though the extent of the randomness gives rise to manipulation of odds, without ever fully eliminating them. This 'gamble' means players who understand the odds, who can alter them with certain variables, and who understand and covet the value of success, however slim the chances, can take a plunge, and still be surprised at an outcome. This is also the element of excitement.

What's important about these pillars, and what makes them different from DND's, is that none of them exist independently. They are each of them intermingled and entwined with the other: a story that carries no risk of failure or too much reliability is boring, and a random dice throw with no promise of lasting, cascading consequences, or resource lost or gained, becomes a game of Snakes and Ladders, randomly generating values until someone is declared the winner.

And so, if you were to boil these three pillars down again, into a singular equation for what makes a ttrpg what it is? How do players engage with the game, that makes the activity different from, say, chess, or monopoly, or a game of snakes and ladders?

"A roleplaying game is about inventing theories, that are then proven, or disproven, by dice, that have their outcomes manipulated by previously-occurring characters and events."

This is it. This is all DND is, and all any other ttrpg will ever be.

Returning again for a moment to the title of this piece, there is one other element of ttrpgs that is, generally, indisputable: the role of a Game Master.

Granted, there are other GM-less games. But in every circumstance, there is someone who took the player's potential actions in mind, and constructed a hypothetical where that player's theorized action either succeeded, or failed, and effectively hallucinated a world into being that would be affected by said attempt. In the case of "choose your own adventure" games, players are presented with predetermined choices, that then lead to predetermined outcomes, written by a writer, who takes the role of the GM in such a case.

Where there are the Three Pillars of Relations, Realism, and Randomness, there is also the foundation of what holds those pillars up: the contributions of the players themselves, the willingness to contribute, and the acceptance of the result.

Time and again, I've seen ttrpg tables collapse into juvenile bickering, as a result of one of these four elements. That the story is weak, or the characters don't matter, or that the rolls are too random, or not random enough, that the GM fudges dice, that resource-tracking is boring, or that there's not enough consequences for those resources or the player's actions. And somehow, all of this responsibility tends to fall squarely on the GM's shoulders, the sole Atlas carrying the entire production on their back. If the GM falters, or fails to appear, there simply is no game. It's over. Some players help pick up the slack, take on responsibilities to lighten the load, but the load is always and forever the GM's.

We end up in situations like PointyHat's two-year experiment with travel mechanics, and while he cleaves closely to the three pillars above, he still defaults to the three DND pillars in the end. His usage document spews dozens of great storytelling-based examples for each of the Combat, Exploration, and Roleplay event types, and mixes of the two, but in the end, it's still JUST HIM coming up with these story narratives out of whole cloth. Remove him from the scenario, and you wind up with players who are incapable of playing the game on their own.

It's part of why, now more than ever, I feel like ttrpgs need to turn toward game mechanics that, at least in part, bring the players in to the responsibilities of running the game, and that can reliably produce certain results without some kind of dice-addled soothsayer reading the knucklebones like the portents of the gods in the hopes of producing an experience that players will reliably want to actually DO, over other entertainment alternatives like a videogame or movie. Or, indeed, any other medium that doesn't require them, the consumer, to contribute whatsoever to the betterment of their own experience, content to remain lax, and demand their personal dancing monkey for the evening pick up the pace and put a little more energy into it.

I'm personally pretty proud of Road and Ruin's Story Roster system; about as proud as PointyHat is about his, at any rate. But I'm proud of it as a system that aims to completely replace some GM responsibilities altogether, not just act as a series of instructions that ultimately ends in a need for GM creativity itself. I'm a ways away from it being done, and still hesitant about whether it should include example items and prebuilt characters for every single card in the Roundtable Deck, but at the very least, I feel like I've gotten closer to the core of what a ttrpg needs to be than in other products I've seen.

[lieblingspulli]

Night Routines: SKZ

W.c: 1.9k

Changbin x Reader

Summary: Soft Changbin hours. Lots of cuddles, night routine and the likes. 

A/n: Just a quick little work I did to get my brain juices flowing. I imagine that when I write my brain feels like those clear looking PCs that have tubes with cool looking lava lamp liquid and a fan. I hope you know what I’m talking about LOL. Based on some prompts: “Do you think it would be helpful if we were cuddling?” and “Look at me in the eyes right now and tell me what time you went to bed last night, or if you even went to bed.” Enjoy this sweet and short piece!

Masterlist!

SKZ Masterlist

P.s. I just noticed all my Changbin pieces are about him coming home to you, don’t know why but he’s just such a homey person? Idk. 

Usually, whenever Changbin got home from the studio, you were either making dinner or showering to get ready for bed. Usually. 

Most days, you got home earlier than he did, owing to you being a college student and he, a performer and songwriter. Changbin tried not to make it too late, he knew he had to keep work boundaries, but sometimes he did run a little later than usual. 

The routine was always as follows. You usually got home, got some work done and tried to finish before Changbin got off of work. While he rushed home, you made dinner or showered then made dinner with Changbin. Succeeding this, the two of you did dishes, a minor tidy up of the apartment and then your night routine of washing up and bed cuddles. Most nights, this took you up until almost 10:30 on a good day and past 11 on a bad one. 

Changbin was used to this. He loved the structure. He could run to the gym after work if you had a heavy workload that week, or he could come home and relax with you on evenings which should have been this evening. 

The time read 10:46pm. You were only on page 6 out of 10 and really wanted to rip your hair out for not doing this earlier, but you also had a lab report to write up earlier instead. It wasn’t the latest time ever, but you had been working all day and you felt like a zombie on its feet. Every once in a while, the soft lighting and ambience from your music would lull you to sleep before you snapped your eyes open again. The unfortunate event of Changbin coming home did not snap you out of your constant battle between filling in your outline and trying to stay awake. 

As soon as Changbin entered the apartment, he could hear keyboard keys clicking. There was faint music coming from the bedroom, the living room lights were off and it was oddly silent, even though he could hear the music. Right away, Changbin felt a frown form on his face. 

“Jagiya? You home?” Changbin called out, hoping you would come out and say sorry for not greeting him right away. No response. He could only hear the psychological echoes of his voice. 

Changbin threw his bag down and took off his shoes in the doorway before heading to the bedroom right away. He swung open the door to find you hunched at your desk, completely focused on the screen in front of you. Or, at least that’s what he assumed. You laptop was open to a document, with the extra monitor opened on youtube. However, the youtube video displayed the “are you still watching?” sign. Changbin stood there for a few seconds, waiting to see if you were actually awake, but to no avail. He shuffled forward in hopes the noise might startle you, but it didn’t. 

Hm. He walked over and peeked over your shoulder. You were hunched forward, leaning your cheek on your wrist. Your eyes were closed and your eyebrows scrunched together. You must have fallen asleep while writing. Changbin smiled, mildly entertained by the scene in front of him. He also didn’t want to scare you awake, so he lightly tapped your shoulder and whispered, “Y/n? Baby?” You stirred but didn’t open your eyes. Changbin held his breath. He then poked your cheek. You startled awake. 

“Wha- Was I asleep? Oh. Hi baby.” You mumbled and rubbed your eyes open to see your boyfriend standing right by your side. He cheekily grinned and motioned towards the monitor with his head. 

“What are you working on that has you falling asleep on your desk?” He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder as you readjusted in your seat. 

“Oh, this is my research paper. I gotta get it done by tomorrow.” 

Changbin nodded and gave a little, “Ah.” You nodded and tried to attempt to see where you left off before you fell asleep. Changbin looked at your face and studied how tired you looked. He had walked into a similar scene yesterday and fell asleep to it too. 

“Babe, no offense, but how long has it been since you slept?” He carefully said. You turned your head to answer but kept your eyes on the screen. You non-committedly replied, “I took a nap earlier.” This reply irritated Changbin. He didn’t like when you didn’t rest enough, it only led to worse things for your body. The odd silence in the apartment further irritated him and led Changbin to drag your chair away from the desk, with you in it. This solicited a “Hey, I was working!” from you, but he just shook his head and firmly turned you towards him. He kneeled in front of you and settled his hands on your thighs. You frowned at him, but couldn’t stay mad at his soft looking face. You huffed in annoyance. 

Changbin thought for a bit before asking again. 

“Babe. Y/n. Look at me in the eyes right now and tell me what time you went to bed last night, if you even went to bed at all.” He taunted you with his eyes. You rolled your eyes and tried to look at him in his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer. 

“3.” 

“Okay. What time did you wake up to finish that lab report? I know you didn’t finish it.” 

Your boyfriend sure was cheeky sometimes. You blew some hair out of your face in annoyance. 

“7.” 

“Oh my gosh, Y/n-” He groaned and let his head drop to touch your knees. You kind of felt bad for worrying him so you hurriedly tried to defend yourself. 

“Hey, Look, it’s not that bad. At least I got some sleep.” You sucked at this. He looked back up to you and rubbed his own tired eyes. “Babe. I just came home to you asleep at your desk. My yelling didn’t even wake you up. You can barely keep your eyes open.” He pointed out. You didn’t know what to say. He sighed and hopped back up to stand. 

“Fine. If you won’t sleep, then I’ll make you go to sleep.” He said with a firm nod, proud of himself for taking some initiative. You started to protest but Changbin just leaned forward and pulled you over his shoulder, eliciting a shriek. 

“Seo Changbin! What are you doing!” 

“Baby, this is for your own good. I’m taking care of my baby, that’s what I’m doing.” He said and you could only prop yourself up on his back. He carried you to the bathroom before setting you down. 

“Why are we here?” You puffed in annoyance. 

Changbin just started getting out your face wash and other things related to your night routine. As soon as he set everything down in front of you he motioned to the mini display and crossed his arms. 

“We are doing our night routine. Like we always do.” He just stood and waited. You scoffed and began to brush your teeth, occasionally looking back at your boyfriend. He really just waited until you started until he began to do it himself. While you two were brushing your teeth, he even tried to smile at you with his toothbrush in his mouth. Unfortunately a bunch of toothpaste foam fell out of his mouth and you laughed at him, almost choking on your own spit. The both of you giggled like kids as you moved on to face wash. 

Changbin insisted on doing this step for you, so you let him put your face wash on your face (with clean hands of course!) and rub it in circles. He put a little too much pressure though, and he was moving your whole face in circles. 

“Changbin!” You laughed and he smiled at the sight of you finally smiling for once. Man, he loved you so much. 

“What?” 

“You’re moving my entire face!” 

“Yah, stop talking unless you want bubbles in your mouth.” He lessened his firmness and continued to emulsify the soap on your face until you tried to pull away. 

“Hey, I’m not done!” He scolded you. 

“Baby, it’s been 60 seconds. We’re done.” You laughed and proceeded to help him do his face. He sat patiently while you spread his face wash on his cheeks, forehead, chin and nose. You also gave him a forehead massage. He sighed and melted in your hands. Entirely focused, you moved on to his cheeks and then his nose. He stood as still as possible. 

After you tapped his cheek, signaling your task was complete, you both rinsed your face and did the rest of your routine together. After that, you climbed into bed as he changed into his sleeping shorts. 

“Yah, what are you staring at?” Changbin feigned to act all shy. You laughed and stared at his shoulders. 

“Oh, I’m just admiring all the hard work my boyfriend puts in at the gym.” You snickered and pulled the blanket over you as Changbin picked up the pillow from the edge of the bed to throw at you. You both giggled. 

Changbin climbed in as you let the cover fall from your face. He snuggled up close to you and you wrapped your arms around his torso as he fit himself into the shape of your body. 

“Baby, I don’t know if I’m tired anymore.” You whispered just as he began to close his eyes. He snapped them open. 

“What?” Changbin pouted. 

You laughed. “I can’t stop thinking about my assignments.” 

“Ah, would it help if I cuddled you how you like?” He pleaded with his doe eyes. 

You nodded and made a sad face. He scrunched his nose in reply. 

“Whatever makes my baby sleep better at night.” He then turned to flip off the lights and readjust you so you were the smaller spoon facing him. 

“This better?” 

“Mmm, yeah.” You sighed and relaxed in his arms. 

“You’re so warm.” You whispered. He rubbed your back to lull you back into a tired state. 

“Go to sleep baby. I’ll be right here to hold you all night.” He whispered back and kissed your head. You were too tired to reply, and before you knew it, his body warmth had lulled you to sleep. You didn’t even get to kiss him goodnight. 

Changbin watched your eyes close and he could feel your breath even out, signaling you fell asleep. He watched your eyelashes flutter as you went off to dreamland. 

“I love you Y/n.” He whispered before relaxing more himself and settling into a deep sleep for himself.