#hey guys turns out if you go really crazy on painting shit with heavy shadows and exaggerated colors

[octopodian]

overtaken with "anji mito but with a back tattoo" fever

#pics #anji mito #guilty gear #guilty gear strive #gg fanart #hey guys turns out if you go really crazy on painting shit with heavy shadows and exaggerated colors #then drawing tattoos on that and having them be readable is very difficult #anji tag #have loved him for like 6 months. unfortunately i am a senior in college and i cant draw. #art

[finishtheboat]

Tell Him (Colby x Reader)

Hey beautiful people! 

Here goes my first Colby fic. I have no idea if its cool or if its shit, but I’m happy with it. 

Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader

Warnings: A couple swear words, pink fluffy unicorns, Colby getting a little hurt (not much tho he okay).

Requested: Do I look like-

Notes: The first words are lyrics to It’s A Hard Life by Queen. It has nothing to do with the story but its dope af. Another thing, the reader has brown eyes and is referenced later on in the lyrics of Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. 

Okay that’s it, hope you enjoy, for real!

So you are Sam and Colby’s video editor and obv, you are in love with Colby. This is the first time you go explore with the bois (Sam, Colby and Corey) and a spirit might end up being your wingman. 

Word count: 2240

“ You win, you lose, there’s a chance you have to take becau-“

An abrupt break of the car gets you out of your daydream. You hold on tight out of reflex to the car door as you quickly take off your headphones in the verge of screaming. After two seconds that went by in slow motion you hear Sam and Colby laughing their asses off while the car takes up to normal speed again. You were sitting on the left back seat and turn your head to see Corey, eyes extremely wide open, and both hands hanging on for dear life to the car door. You look back to the shotgun, Sam, still laughing his ass off, and understand that you are in no danger and that it was all a joke to scare Corey, who was asleep.

Y/N: Jesus fuck guys!

COREY: You jerks you almost gave me a freaking heart attack I swear to God.

Y/N: Did you even record it?

 COLBY: You know what Y/N? Sometimes the best pranks are meant just for us.

You start to mock Colby as he talks, you do that when you can’t come up with a comeback – which doesn’t happen often-, or when you want to make Colby laugh – which is a constant mood in your life-.

SAM: I think we are close now

Close to where? You might ask. Well this story starts about three months ago, when, after a couple months of living in LA unemployed, you went to a job interview to become a video editor for an “online video creator”, in other words, a youtuber. The pay was enough for you to get by, and you would be doing what you love. The story got really interesting for you when you got to the interview and realized that, if you got the job, you would be editing for Sam and Colby, as well as their separate channels. Even though you were freaking out inside you nailed the interview and long story short, you got the job.

Little by little you started to get along more and more with the boys, not only Sam and Colby, but also with the whole gang. After a month and a half, you started appearing in some of their videos. It became a running joke for them to address you as their editor, asking you to put crazy effects in the video, or just talking shit about you. You decided to add to the videos reactions of you while editing. The fans started to love you and wanted more of you in the videos. Today was gonna be the second time you were officially in a video, the first time being a basic-ass YouTube video absolutely irrelevant for the narrative. Of course, people had started to ship you with Colby, which wasn’t unexpected, all you had to do was:

1.  Be a girl.

2.  Address/talk to Colby somehow in a video.

3.  Look at him during said video.

Fans would ship a seaweed with Colby, you weren’t surprised that happened. What fans did not know – and you didn’t want them to – is that you actually liked him. Really liked him. Cantstopstaringatyou kinda like him. Maybe loved him. He obviously didn’t know this either, he is technically your boss, and your job was more needed than romance. Besides, you were kind of confused since you usually never liked babyfaced-hairless-fuckboylooking guys like Colby

So there you were, accompanying the dynamic duo and Corey to explore an abandoned psychiatric hospital. You had asked to come since you love exploring, especially paranormal places, and they thought that you would bring more views since people really liked you. The hospital was an hour and a half away from Sam and Colby’s place, which was kind of a long ride, Colby was driving.

 Y/N: So Sam, tell us a little bit about this hospital, what is up with it.

SAM: Oh well, the usual, psychiatric haunted hospital were people hear things and feel people observing them and all that, nothing particularly new.

Y/N: Please don’t make it sound any more exciting or my cranium will explode. (you say sarcastically)

SAM: Well, its juts the same thing over and over. It’s just that something different happens in every place we go to.

Y/N: Okay so I think it’s time for you guys to tell me… how real are your videos? Do I have to like, pretend I see shit or…

 They all chuckle

COLBY: Well we exaggerate everything, specially Corey. Like… we hear any sound and we are all like “omG WhAT wAs tHat” you know?

SAM: It also depends on the video, I have faked things in the 3AM challenges ‘cause nothing would happen otherwise and the video would be useless. But we usually don’t fake things in the exploring ones.

Y/N: You know I could expose you right now with this info right?

 Sam laughs and then looks dead serious at you

SAM: I would have to kill you then

COREY: Queen Mary was real tho… (says while staring blankly out the window)

Y/N: I know…

Everyone turns to look at you, even Colby through the rearview mirror.

COREY: How can you know?

Y/N: I don’t know I… It feels real I guess.

The car stops, you look out the windshield and see nothing but trees.

Y/N: Is this it?

COLBY: Yes, it’s about half a mile through the forest.

Before going out to explore, Sam and Colby shoot the intro, giving Corey and you facts about the hospital.  

We get to the main wing without much difficulty, there was a hole in the fence so in case of having to run away from cops we would be fine.

COREY: Omg it’s so cold tonight

Y/N: Actually I thought it was gonna be colder. This sweatshirt is super warm. (You say referring to the XPLR hoodie that Colby let you borrow for the video)

COLBY: Looks really good on you.

Your brain just short circuits and it takes you a full couple seconds to react. You decide that the best thing to do is to make funny gestures as if you were posing for a photoshoot. Surprisingly, it makes Colby laugh. Everything was being recorded but you weren’t worried about it since it was you who was gonna be editing it HEH.

You explore the ground floor, where nothing paranormal really happens, although everything looks creepy as fuck. When you get to the second floor you feel as if the air is getting thicker.

SAM: You okay Y/N? (Says pointing the camera at you)

Y/N: Yeah its just… the air feels heavier here

 COREY: Yeah I feel it too

 Y/N: Maybe we should try and contact something here

 The guys look slightly surprised about what you just said.

 COLBY: Yeah let’s do it (says kind of excited). Do you wanna do the honors Y/N?

 Colby takes the spirit box out of his bag. Corey obviously acts as if he was against it. You sigh, a little scared, and take it. You turn it on – it’s not the first one you have ever used -. You take a deep breath.

 Y/N: Hello?

 The only sound in the whole hospital is the static of the box going through the radio channels, but you feel like you can hear everyone’s hearts beating.

No answer.

Y/N: If there is any entity here with us, please make yourself known.

[?]: Tell him…

Everyone jumps and screams, your eyes wide open, there are some swears from Colby, while Corey does the classical tuning-around-and-pretending-to-walk-away. You glance at Colby for a split second without even realizing, getting the feeling that the entity is talking about him. You make a gesture for everyone to shut up.

Y/N: Tell who?

 No answer. You all look at each other in confusion

 COLBY: Tell who?

[?]: You (says a female voice) tell her (in a male voice right after) ”the brown eyed girl” (right after landing in that part of the song, the radio goes back to static)

The entity is talking about you. Colby freezes. Sam gasps deeply, he knows Colby is in love with you, and can tell that you love him back. Can this be it?

Colby looks up, your eyes meet.

 COLBY: (Looking at you dead in the eyes) What do I tell her?

Your blood freezes. A sudden loud thud makes all of your head’s turn

 SAM: We need to go NOW.

 You all start running towards the exit, you were really far from it, after a little while, you all stop to check if anyone is following you. There is not a sound around.

 SAM: What do we do?

COLBY: It doesn’t seem like anyone else is in here.

COREY: So what the hell was that thud?

Y/N: Maybe it’s just a fucking thud for once you know? (You say irritated)

Corey looks back at you surprised and a little hurt by your answer.

Y/N: Sorry… I’m just a little freaked out.

COREY: It’s okay… me too. 

SAM: Should we keep on exploring? Should we go?

Y/N: Let’s keep exploring, if we hear another inexplicable sound we take off.

SAM: Okay sounds good

 You keep exploring for another while, nothing weird happens, just the usual painted walls with satanic symbols and dirty walls that make it seem as if there are shadows behind you.

You all exit the room you were in, with less hope to find something each time, and not really wanting to try the spirit box again. After almost a minute you realize Colby is not there.

Y/N: Where’s Colb-

A loud noise interrupts you as if something really heavy has fallen. The loud thud is followed by Colby’s screams. You start sprinting towards the source of the screams, the last room you had gone into. Everyone follows right behind you. When you enter the room you see a wardrobe over one of Colby’s legs. You run towards him.

Y/N: Don’t move Colby stay still! (you yell)

Colby looks at you with terror in his eyes, begging for help.

SAM: (Frozen) What happened?

Y/N: Sam help me lift it up! Corey you pull him out on my sign. (You say almost screaming)

You and Sam lift the wardrobe on three, its really heavy and when it seems like you are about to lift it enough for Colby’s foot to get unstuck, your arms give out a bit. To your surprise, the wardrobe does not fall back on Colby’s leg. Thanks to Sam you manage to lift it enough for Corey to drag Colby out, who instantly helps him up. Colby is almost crying. Both Sam and you let go of the wardrobe, making a huge thud as it hits the floor.

SAM: Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Both Corey and you put Colby’s arms around your neck and walk as fast as possible. You manage to get to the car in no time, with your hearts pounding, your lungs burning and your eyes watering.

SAM: I’m driving.

Corey helps you put Colby in the back seats.

COREY: You sit with him, I’ll go in the front.

You nod rapidly as you get in next to him. All the doors close within milliseconds appart as Sam starts the car and hits the gas.

You tear up a bit, waiting for your heart to stop racing. You wipe out your tears as they come out, trying to hide them.

COREY: We need to go to the hospital.

COLBY: I’m okay guys (with a shaky voice) It’s not broken.

SAM: You don’t know that!

COLBY: I’ve broken bones before and it is not fucking broken we are not going to the hospital.

SAM: What the hell happened?

COLBY: I don’t know... I just stayed behind cause I felt something in the room and next thing I know I am on the floor with a wardrobe crashing my leg.

A few seconds of silence go by until the guys notice you are upset, although you are not crying anymore.

COLBY: …Are you okay Y/N?

Y/N: ARE YOU STUPID WHY WOULD YOU WANDER OFF LIKE THAT? (voice shaking) YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL HOW DANGEROUS IT IS. (You start to tear up again) WHAT IF THE FLOOR GAVE OUT? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA- I- (you stutter) FUCK’S SAKE.

 Colby takes your hand and caresses it softly trying to calm you down.

 COLBY: I’m sorry.

You wipe out the few tears and breathe deeply as you look away from him.

COLBY: Thank you Y/N, thank you guys… really. That was very scary.

Y/N: Thank Sam… if it hadn’t been for him the wardrobe would have fallen right back on your leg… My arms gave out on me.

SAM: What?

You look up at Sam, confused. He takes his eyes off of the road for a second to look at you. You demand an explanation with your eyes.

SAM: I… my arms gave out midway… I thought you lifted it…

Y/N: What? 

You all look at each other with your mouths half open, looking for an explanation from the others. No one says anything. 

COREY: We need to look back at the footage as soon as we get home.

You all nod in response.

After a deep sigh you look at Colby, he looks exhausted. You don’t really think it twice and you cuddle up next to him, holding onto his arm and laying your head on his shoulder. You feel his head resting on yours and you breathe deeply as the fear fades away.

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #corey scherer #jake webber #trap house #xplr #colbyxreader #colby imagine #colby fanfic #tfil #elton castee #overnight #paranormal

[the-noblehouseofblack]

Posting the first part of the SPN/SH crossover to see if there is enough interest to continue! Let me know if you guys want to see more!

​“Dean!” Sam’s voice was ragged and panicked over the snarl of the Impala’s engine. Dean’s calloused hand slammed against the steering wheel as he cursed under his breath, his eyes darting between each side mirror and the rearview. “They’re getting closer! We gotta figure something out!”

​Dean mumbled “think” to himself repeatedly until he recognized his surroundings.

​“Oh, come on.” He groused, ripping the wheel to the left. Sam complained absently as he slid slightly on the seat. Dean lead the Impala down a few familiar roads before skidding to a stop in front of the hulking ruins of a church.

​“Uh, Dean?” Sam questioned, panic evident in his voice. “This isn’t exactly a good solution. Demons can still come into churches.”

​“Just trust me, Sammy. Let’s go, move your ass.” Dean threw the door open and sprinted across the uneven cement steps in front of the church. His hand dug into the pocket of his canvas jacket until his fingers closed around piece of cool metal shaped like a pencil. When he withdrew it, the metal had lines cutting along the shaft of it and the top had what looked like a clear crystal attached.

​Dean inhaled a sharp breath and began to draw the tip over his skin, ignoring Sam’s look of shock when stark, black lines began to rip across his skin with the look of burning embers in the wake of the crystal.

When he’d drawn what appeared to be an eye on the back of his right hand, he tucked the metal back into his pocket and pounded his flat palm against the door of the church.

“Open up, you son’s-a-bitches! There are demons out here, come on!” Silence answered him. He slammed his hand against the door again. “You owe me this! Open the damn door! Maryse! Robert!”

“Dean, where the hell are we? Who are you talking to?” Dean pointedly ignored Sam.

“You can’t just ignore your son! I’m a Lightwood and I am requesting access to the New York Institute! Let us in!”

“A Lightwood? What does that--.” Sam was cut off when, suddenly, the church shimmered around the edges like the feeling of waking from a dream and he was suddenly faced with a massive, intricate building that looked like it had been pulled from a painting. “Holy shit…”

Behind them, there was a roar of one of the demons that had been following them and both men spun on their heels, their guns lifting to their shoulders immediately. Dean didn’t flinch when the doors behind them opened and a shimmering whip cracked forward, the glowing strand of it wrapping around one of the two demons at the base of the stairs and tearing through its flesh until it disappeared in a plume of smoke. The other demon reared back with its gnarled teeth bared, but a silver arrow tore through his throat and he was gone as well.

Dean lowered his gun slowly, his green eyes surveying the area for more demons. He barely had a chance to relax when he heard a voice that he hadn’t in years, but one that was still all too familiar behind him.

“Dean?” It was all to easy to remember the voice squeaky with youth and excitement. He took a steadying breath and turned to face the man in front of him with a cocky smile.

“Hey, Alec.” He greeted casually, resting his sawed-off against his shoulder. “You got taller, little brother.”

​******************

​“Dean, what are you…where have you been?” Alec stammered, raking his hands through his messy black hair. After being ushered inside the Institute, Alec had dragged them down the halls to the briefing room where Dean was now leaning against the table with his arms crossed over his chest.

​“Around. Making my way through the country with Sammy, taking out demons that the Shadowhunters are missing.” Sam was staring between the two of them with his jaw hanging open with mild disbelief.

​“It’s been….it’s been fifteen years, Dean. You didn’t call, you didn’t send a fire message. I thought you were dead.” Alec’s voice was tinged with anger as he spoke. Isabelle had been uncharacteristically silent through the exchange, but when Dean’s gaze caught hers, she automatically walked forward and pressed herself to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Dean’s arms went around her with a shuddered sigh, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

​“Hey, Iz.” He whispered, breathing in the scent of his sister and letting his eyes close briefly. “I missed you.” Izzy nodded slightly against his chest before she pulled back and slapped the same spot, making him flinch.

​“Don’t run off again. You hear me?” Dean chuckled softly and nodded.

​“Can’t get rid of me twice.” Alec was staring skeptically, his eyes narrowed, and laser focused on Dean. “I’m sorry I left, Alec. I should’ve told you before I went, but I knew that you’d want to come with me, and I couldn’t have taken care of you. Leaving was the best option. That’s not an excuse for not telling you, but it’s why I did what I did. And I’ve missed you guys ever since.”

​Alec’s silence stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity before he stepped into the circle of Dean’s arms, leaning down slightly to hug his brother in a crushing embrace.​

​“Don’t go again. She couldn’t handle it.” Alec’s voice wasn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear, and Dean couldn’t help the clench in his chest when Alec added, “Neither could I.” When Alec pulled back, Dean cuffed him lightly on the chin with a suspiciously damp sounding chuckle.

​“When did you get taller than me? I’m supposed to be the big brother. This is just rude. You and Sammy both. Brothers and adopted brothers are not supposed to outgrow their older siblings, that’s law.” Alec smirked and pulled a half shrug in response. “Speaking of adopted brothers…where’s Jace?” The question was laced with caution. Shadowhunters historically didn’t always live long and Dean was secretly concerned about seeing pain across Alec’s face.

​“He’s with Clary, they’re on patrol.” Isabelle supplied. Dean raised an eyebrow curiously. “Oh! Right! You haven’t met Clary. You’ll love her, she’s great. And Magnus! You have to meet Magnus. He’s a warlock.”

​“And my boyfriend.” Alec added softly, his gaze catching Dean’s with a heavy weight to it. Dean simply smiled.

​“Well, then I have a Shovel Talk to have with this warlock, don’t I?”

​“I’m sorry to break up this…reunion, but can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Sam interjected, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

​“I, uh,” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face wearily before looking at Sam. “This is my family. My little brother, Alec, and my little sister, Isabelle. The Lightwoods.”

​“What the hell do you mean your family? I’m your family…I’m your brother.” Dean nodded slowly.

​“You are my brother. My adopted brother. Alec and Isabelle are blood.” Sam stared at him silently, obviously waiting for him to continue. “When I was fifteen, I ran away from my family. My father and mother were trying to convince me to do something that would have been catastrophic, so I left. Alec and Izzy were just kids. And Jace.”

​“But you…I remember you being there my whole life. Dad has pictures of you when you were a kid.” Sam shook his head in disbelief.

​“I worked with a warlock to put that in place. She helped me to make Dad think that I had been there forever. Both of you. I’m sorry that I never told you, Sammy, but you have to know that I would have told you if I could have. If I brought it up, the glamour would’ve worn off.”

​“Glamour? What the hell does that mean? What’s happening?!” Sam was getting louder by the second and Dean reached out a hand to steady the other man. He couldn’t hide the flinch when Sam ripped his arm away and glared at Dean. He pointed at the mark on the back of Dean’s hand. “And that. What’s with the weird tattoo?”

​“It’s not a tattoo. It’s a rune. Shadowhunters use them to enhance their natural abilities to be better, faster, and stronger.” Izzy supplied helpfully. At least Dean was sure that was the intention, instead it earned her a glare from Sam.

​“A….Shadowhunter. What the hell does that even mean?”

​“It’s a race. Humans mixed with Nephilim. They’re a race that was born to protect mundanes from the shadow world.” Alec replied.

​“If you think that explains things, I have news for you.” Dean sighed loudly.

​“Demons, warlocks, werewolves, vampires. Downworlders. That’s what they mean. We’re the race that keeps demons and their BFF’s from chowing down on the average Joes.”

​“Mundanes? We? Dean, this isn’t you. You’re my brother. You’re a hunter.”

​“I am. But, I’m also a Shadowhunter. And I’m also their brother. I know that this is probably hard to understand, but--.”

​“It’s not hard to understand, Dean. Think about all the crazy shit that we’ve seen over the years. There’s not a whole hell of a lot that I would consider hard to understand.” Sam shook his head slightly before turning his gaze back on Dean. “I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me sooner.”

​“It was to protect you. You gotta believe that, man. If you’d known about all this, about what I really am? You’d have been in danger. You and dad.”

​“For once you’re speaking some sense.” Came a voice from the other side of the room and every head turned toward it. Dean froze, the tension in his shoulders obvious.

​“Robert.” He croaked out, cursing the fact that his voice quivered.

​“Robert, is it? I suppose that a decade and a half changes how you view a person, but the last time we spoke, I was ‘father’ to you still, Dean.” Robert walked closer, his arms behind his back when he began to circle Dean.

​“Yeah, well. The last time we spoke wasn’t exactly high up on the good memory list, so you’ll forgive me if I tried to push aside the fact that we share blood.” Robert quirked a brow slowly.

​“I see your mother’s personality still runs through you like wildfire.” As if on cue, Maryse Lightwood emerged from the same door her husband had and she stood stalk still, her eyes laser focused on Dean.

​“Mom.” Dean breathed out, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides frantically. He wanted to run to her, to feel his mother’s arms around him again, but her ridged posture made his feet feel like cinder blocks.

​“Do my eyes deceive me?” Maryse questioned softly, and he wished that he could read her tone better. He shook his head jerkily.

​“No, I,” Dean cleared his throat and tried again. “No. I’m here.”

​“Bold of you to return after abandoning your family the way you did.” Her words stung like a dagger in the gut, but the tears that she was obviously trying to contain gave him hope. “Come here.”

​Dean’s feet were moving before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea, and he was stepping into Maryse’s open arms. He couldn’t remember the last time that she’d held him this way. Perhaps when he’d been sick as a very young child, but Maryse Lightwood was not quite the “warm and fuzzy” type of parent.

​“I missed you.” He mumbled out where his face was pressed to her shoulder, his arms sliding around her and clutching the black fabric of her dress for all that he was worth. He inhaled the scent of patchouli and mint, the scent that he’d always associated with fleeting affection from his mother, and he had to swallow around the lump in his throat.

​“Oh, my boy, I’ve missed you too.” Maryse’s voice was soft against Dean’s temple and her hands trailed his back a bit awkwardly. He clung to her, reluctant to let go after fifteen years without her.

​“Maryse is hugging someone…who died? And who’s the giant?” Dean knew that voice, it had been the one that he had heard through the halls while its own chased Alec through the halls when they were “training”.

​He straightened up and turned to face the doorway, keeping quiet and waiting for a response from the blonde man in front of him. Jace had grown into a tall, broad man (not that he could be surprised, it had been quite a while since he’d seen his adopted brother), but there was still a glint in his golden eyes and the quirked lips of a cocky smile that screamed Jace Wayland.

​The sound of Jace’s gear bag hitting the floor echoed through the now silent room like a gunshot, startling the, admittedly adorable, redhead beside him. His boots thudded loudly as he strode toward Dean, who braced himself for a punch that was sure to knock him off his feet.

​Instead, what he got was a bear hug of epic proportions and a snarled “fuck you for leaving, asshole” with a suspicious sniffle against his ear. Dean folded his arms around Jace equally as tight, not giving half a damn that he couldn’t breathe.

​“Missed you too, pretty boy.” Dean chuckled, his chest warm with affection. He had his family back. His whole family.

@consulalexander @tobythewise

#long post #alec lightwood #dean winchester #jace wayland #isabelle lightwood #maryse lightwood #robert lightwood #fic #spn crossover #sh crossover #the crossover literally no one asked for

[squidgirlfriends]

(remember i said i was gonna write a pearlina fic? well, here she is... pure.... *heavy breathing...... pure fluff. i pulled this out my ass at like midnight two days ago. boy am i proud...)

mint chocolate and awful movies

[read on ao3]

“Tonight, on the big screen… A Midnight Inking, the ultimate trilogy! Drug makers in the dark, secret black market under Inkopolis’ noses discover a new radioactive substance by chance, but what do the side effects of this new substance entail? Watch now, or stay forever in the dark!”

Marina groaned. “Are you kidding me, Pearl? Even the books for that series weren’t good.”

“Oh? You talk like you’ve read ‘em?” Pearl waved the stack of disc boxes around, eyebrows raised.

Marina crossed her arms, scoffing. “Well of course I have. Inkopolis’ library needs a bigger selection!”

“There’s a reason Inkopolis’ library doesn’t have a selection, smart stuff. But guess what!” Pearl slammed all the discs onto the table. She poked Marina’s nose. “Whooooo won the splatfest?”

Marina rolled her eyes. She didn’t bat Pearl’s finger away.

“…you did.”

“Thaaat’s right! Which means, no more book talk tonight, no boring words on paper, just action and crime syndicates!” Pearl poked Marina’s nose again, for good measure.

“But please, Pearl, couldn’t you have at least picked a better series?” Marina pleaded.

“Nope!”

“Not anything? If you make me watch these movies my eyeballs will fall out.”

“Cool.”

“Not cool! If you make me watch these I’ll bleed out and die because these movies suck so much.”

“So you’ll watch… anything else?” Pearl pursed her lips thoughtfully. “How about… Squidmarq, the Complete Adventures?”

“Oh cod, no—“

“Midnight Inking it is, then.”

“That’s not fair! Squidmarq is a TV show!”

“Ah ah,” Pearl batted her eyes. “Who won the splatfest?”

Marina glowered. “I hate you. I’ll burn your TV.”

“I’ll buy another one.” Pearl opened the first movie's disc box.

“I’ll replace your mayo with toothpaste.”

“Isn’t that supposed to happen the other way around?”

“I’ll… I’ll fall asleep during the movie?” Marina sunk to her knees in defeat, slumping over the low table.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got us enough sugar and caffeine to last us another week. It might kill us, but I’m not letting you sleep through these.” Pearl smirked, dropping the disc into the player’s tray. She took the remote and plopped onto the couch, patting the place next to her. “C’mon, Marina, sit up here.”

Marina gently banged her forehead on the table.

“I don’t want to bleed out on your sofa,” she muttered.

Pearl smiled, grabbing Marina’s arm.

“Come onnnn, get up here!” It was like trying to lift a sack of rocks. “Cod, Marina, you weigh like a million pounds—“

She thought for a moment. “Hey… Marina…I got you something for tonight…”

“Is it bleach? For my eyes?”

“No… it’s better than bleach for your eyes… It’s ice cream…” Pearl tugged lightly on Marina’s arm. Her head lifted a little off the table. Pearl let her hand slip down into Marina’s, lacing their fingers together. “...mint…chocolate flavor?”

Marina smiled a little, turning around.

“Mint chocolate?”

“Yeah, and pretty sure… there are a coupla’ spoons… out on the counter…”

Marina squeezed Pearl’s hand once and let go, heading to the freezer in the kitchen. She returned with a tub of ice cream and two spoons.

“Throw it here!”

“I’m not throwing the spoon, Pearl.” She sat down gently and ripped the plastic seal off, holding her spoon in her mouth. “Jus’ shtart the movie, I wan’ get dish over wif.”

-

Two movies in, the ice cream tub sat on the table, half-finished and probably more soup than ice cream at that point. They’d forgotten personal space around the same time as they’d forgotten the ice cream; Marina’s head pillowed on Pearl’s chest, one of her tentacles wrapped around Pearl’s arm.

“Don’t fall asleep, loser…” Pearl yawned, using her free hand to rub little circles into Marina’s hip, where her shirt rode up.

“We were just performing for twenty-four hours, Pearl. We may be young, but we’re not…gods…” Marina cuddled in closer, her nose brushing against Pearl’s jaw.

“We got… we got…one movie left… n’we’re done…” Pearl reached for the remote.

“It’s like two in the morning,” Marina’s voice was scratchy with exhaustion. She yawned. “Let’s just… go to bed…”

“Weakling! We gotta, we… one more and we’re done…” Pearl flicked the remote and started the last movie, which opened with the typical pan-shot over the city, slowly dipping to the protagonist’s underground shelter.

Pearl nudged Marina’s shoulder. “Y’know what?”

“Hmm?” Marina hummed in response.

“I think this is a pretty dumb series.”

Marina snorted. Pearl felt her smile against her collarbone.

“I mean, by the end of all this, the radioactive whatever thingy didn’t even matter? It was like this dumb, stupid mushy love story. Where’s the… people dying cos’ their skin melted off? Ya know? The whole point of these crime movies is to have action, and well…crime.” Pearl watched as the main guy’s dying father offered him some words of wisdom, before falling victim to the radioactive thing’s side effects. “See? It’s all too mushy.” Pearl blinked. “Marina?”

Marina’s breath had evened out, her eyes shut and lips parted slightly. She was asleep. The only light in the room was from the TV screen, painting shadows over Marina’s face as she slept. It was pure contrast, the violent flashes of color over her peaceful expression.

Pearl pressed a half-kiss to Marina’s forehead, and flicked the TV’s volume down.

-

Marina woke up first, blinking groggily against what was definitely not her pillow. It was still partially dark in the room, thanks to Pearl’s blackout curtains. Her mouth tasted like sour milk; she wrinkled her nose and swallowed thickly.

Her head still felt too heavy to lift, so she settled back onto Pearl, making a soft, sleepy noise when two arms snaked around her waist in return.

“Mornin’ sunshine…” Pearl muttered.

“Shut up,” Marina grumbled. “…too early…”

“Not that early…” Pearl yawned. “We’ve… got time…”

Marina hummed, settling down into half-consciousness until Pearl roused her again.

“C’mere…’rina…” she nudged Marina a little, trying to shimmy down so they were face to face. Marina was having none of it, Pearl’s plan was proving to be harder to carry out than she thought.

“Look at me, you shit,” Pearl pinched Marina’s shoulder, hard.

“Well now...that’s some real charm… how could I ever resist?” Marina squirmed in Pearl’s arm, using all the strength her sleepy arms had to offer to rest on her elbows, hovering over Pearl. “What.” She said flatly.

“Just noticing how much of a morning person you are…” Pearl smiled, lifting her head up to kiss Marina. She pulled away for a moment. “Your morning breath is gross.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Marina muttered dryly. She leaned down this time, meeting Pearl halfway. They kissed softly, lazily in the way only the early morning can bring. Pearl slid her hand under Marina’s shirt, splaying her fingers over the small of her back.

Marina sighed lightly against Pearl’s lips, letting herself melt.

“Hey,” Marina muttered between kisses. “…do you know what time it really is?”

Pearl paused, her lips buzzing and kiss-red. She craned her neck, peering around Marina’s arm at the clock.

“Remember how I said we have time?” She smiled.

“…yes?”

“I lied.”

Marina’s eyes widened, and she looked at the clock. She nearly choked on an inhale, scrambling off the couch. Pearl pouted, shivering at the sudden loss of warmth.

“Are you crazy!? We have to be at the studio!” Marina ran to her bedroom, halfway pulling her shirt off. The door slammed shut.

Pearl glanced down at her own outfit, a baggy shirt with questionable stains, and an old pair of shorts with ripped pockets. She should probably get changed, too.

She looked over at the remnants of the ice cream goo in the tub, two spoons sticking out haphazardly. Today was going to be a long day.

#soph writes #splatoon 2 #off the hook #pearlina #pearlina fic #my fic #splatoon fic

[arsonforcharlie]

so, fuck squad recap! i’m gonna put a quote from me at the end of the night at the beginning because yikes, shit is getting real.

“discourse and discord, that’s what i call d&d!”

Rhonia: “Fuck squid! The cake says fuck squid!” “You guys are never having a undersea adventure.”

Saida: “Creepy.” Sergei: “LISTEN HERE MS. TODD HOWARD” “Mrs. Todd Howard is the goal, I think.” Saida: “That man is the reason faces were invented.”

not to publicly kinkshame my players but hell here we are

yoni has been in the woods communing with desna and trying to start taming the shadow drake

Yoni: “This is Talon. I wanted to name him either Alfonzo or Taco but he didn’t like either.” “NO HE DIDN’T FOR SOME REASON”

Rhonia: “Fucking skeletons is illegal, owning them isn’t.” Maddela: “Is there a difference?!”

“Does anyone want to make a will save to disbelieve Zack’s pants?”

Yoni: “My channel energy means I can kill undead things so I don’t know if I like these skeletons.” “Oh, so now you care about being a cleric!”

Saida: “When they said yes were you holding their skull and making the jaw move?”

there was a whole big thing on the ethics of reanimating skeletons and using them as servants that never really got resolved

“Oh, finally, the fuck squad gets a moral compass.”

[discussing skeletons being withdrawn from human corpses] “They didn’t melt, it’s like, have you ever taken off a coat and thrown it on the floor behind you?” Sergei: “THAT’S NOT BETTER”

they temporarily stop discussing whether rhonia’s new skeleton army is moral in order to go to fantasy pawn stars to sell some stuff they stole from the haunted house

while selling the junk, both Rhonia and Saida rolled nat 20s for diplomacy checks

little did we know that unexpected natural 20s would be a theme of the night

Yoni: “Pleasure doing business with you, sir. Do I have to roll bluff?”

Sergei also got a horse figurine and Rhonia got shortswords for her skellingtons at the fantasy pawn stars- they ended up actually paying fantasy rick harrison twice for it

Yoni, on a blanket for Talon: “Can it have gold in it? It doesn’t need to have a ton. Also I’m rich.”

Rhonia: “Listen, everyone has skeletons, they’re perfectly natural!” Sergei: “Not when they’re walking around with all their skin off because they sloughed it off on the floor of the morgue!”

Rhonia: “They can’t be slaves if they never had free will.”

Sergei: “Liches cant be pets.” “Maybe certain liches are if they have very specific tastes.”

so down to the matter at hand- namely, going up north to where Scrom lives so Saida can visit! jasper finds them a travelling merchant friend of his named lachenta, and she agrees to take them up there for a small fee

Sergei: “Why are all of us going on Saida’s booty call?” Saida: “Never split the party?”

“Can we hook the skeletons up to the cart?”

Maddela: “Can we assume we’re in a world where the equator is to the south of us?” “blank stare” Saida: “Shut up, fake fantasy farmer’s almanac”

Saida: “He’s a shadow drake, he breathes shade” “Haaahhhhhhh, Saida this coat doesn’t go with those pants, you look like shit”

Yoni: “Never split the party! That’s why I’m in the air vents”

“She pulls up with two horses.” Sergei “Are they alive?”

Sergei rolls to make friends with the horses and does a phenomenal job

Saida: “Are we there yet?” “You’re not in the wagon yet.”

before he leaves, sergei gives reaper his harde and narder notebook, and takes Rhonia’s so they can stay in touch

yoni and saida, meanwhile, have been using their notebooks to just draw a bunch of dicks

Reaper uses the notebook to send Sergei a drawing of his own dick

“If you set the notebook on fire that’d be tinder”

Sergei “Is your pet super evil?” Yoni: “Uhhhhhhh, we’re working on that?”

Sergei: “Saida’s our problematic fave.” “Fave is a big word.”

“Roll animal handling to teach ethics to the drake”

on the last night of their journey, they’re sitting around a campfire with lachenta, telling stories, when a few people notice the sound of footfalls in the nearby brush, and a couple more notice a musty, almost metallic odor filling the air

sergei: WHO FARTED

they find themselves surrounded by orcs with glowing white eyes that, in the darkness, appear to have weird fleshy lumps on them. as they move into the firelight, it becomes apparent that those are mushrooms growing on them

Saida: “Rhonia, is this spread sexually?” Sergei: “How would Rhonia know?”

Saida: “Sergei started yelling about farts.” Sergei: “That was largely out of character.”

“I’m gonna say that sense motive is gonna have a heavy penalty because they’re just glowing pricks of light. Sergei: “Heh. Pricks.”

rhonia sets up a defensive line of skeletons, and they begin the battle. lachenta runs out to help, misses the orc she was fighting twice, and the orc rolls 2 goddamn natural 20s in a row and kills her. SO UH THERE GOES THAT BIT OF THE PLOT I HAD PLANNED

“Oh, I’m Rhonia, they’re half-orcs, half snack, I love that!��� Sergei: “Aren’t all orcs half snack or is that just if you’re Saida?”

as they kill some of the orcs, some people have to roll fort saves.

maddela: “I.... rolled a 7.” “You feel fiiiine. No, really. Fiiiiiiine.”

speaking of saves, on one of the last orcs they have left to fight, maddela rolls a crit, which means i get to pull out something i’ve had in my pocket for a while. you see, in the haunted house, maddela got a dope new sword. and it turns out that the fuck squad is not great at perception checks that tell you that a sword is haunted, so up until maddela rolled a crit which triggered a similar effect to the song of discord spell, they had no idea

it was a pretty dope sword tho

so maddela and rhonia both attack the nearest people. rhonia goes after sergei, and maddela goes after yoni

and maddela rolls another crit, knocking yoni out and triggering another song of discord, and rhonia and sergei fail their saves

the orcs are now entirely off the table as the party attacks each other

“yelling what the fuck is a free action!”

saida rolls to non-lethal punch rhonia with the gauntlet of far-seeing since she saw rhonia attack sergei

Saida gets a crit on that, and uses the memory power to see Rhonia sitting in a large stadium tent, eating a candy apple, watching the circus, her mom lifting a ton of crazy shit, including pashmina, so that’s nice

rhonia then boneshakers saida, doing a ton of damage, and sergei kills another of rhonia’s skeletons

meanwhile, since she is no longer under the effects of the spell, Maddela heals Yoni and yoni immediately stabs her.

“I’m trying a new thing with gming where I make you face actual challenges!”

Yoni: “Maddela, I’m never gonna heal you.” “Oh, that’ll be a change.” “Hey, I almost know how it works now!”

Saida: “I don’t know about me, I got a bone to pick with Rhonia.” Sergei: Heh. Bone.”

saida: “If Scrom’s infected I swear to Christ I’m not dating any more.” Sergei: “Yeah, don’t fuck him if he’s got mushrooms on his dick.”

Sergei: “At least those horses are already my friends.”

Saida: “This is like that time we had to burn down that house with the guy in it.” “Had to is a pretty big word.” “I ROLLED REALLY BAD”

so the session ends with everyone mistrusting everyone else, the first new npc i made for this arc just completely fucking dead, and now i’ve gotta rewrite some shit because jesus christ

#the fuck squad #fuck squad recaps #i mean it's not like a god died or anything but still #wait shit is this the fuck squad's suffering game #selfie #at least the cookies were good

[ununniliad]

Writer's Block Person #40: "Too Much Time Inside My Own Skull" Part Two

Last time:

From within the helmet came a voice, swallowing, struggling to get the word out. "Skull..." They threw their head back and howled. "SKULL WRITER'S BLOCK PERSON!"

Now [still early March 2018]:

"Oh, heck." Whisperion pushed herself up with her staff and got to her feet. Something not-so-nice had actually come out of Writer's Block Person's psyche. What should she do?

Keep her word. Fight alongside it. She pointed her staff, and energy flowed into her friend's distorted form; she could feel it distorting along the way, but they shook themselves out and howled again, replenished.

The monstrous man rose up, tilting forward as if pulled by strings, and stared into Skull Writer's Block Person's burning gaze. "Ohhh, I see." The sneer came through. "You think your anger is special--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" With two long steps, Skull Writer's Block Person crossed the distance between them, ramming their shoulder into the monstrous man and knocking him askew. "I DON'T CARE!"

The monstrous man staggered back. He laughed, but it had a haggard, stressed edge. "Yeah you do. Yeah you do."

Skull Writer's Block Person ROARED! Their claws lashed out, and sparks burst from the monstrous man's chest. "People like you just keep fucking with us and making things hard for no goddamn reason and I can't stand your bullshit anymore! I! Don't! Know! Why! You! Just! Don't! Be! GOOD!"

The monstrous man let out a grunt of pain, but it turned into a sardonic chuckle. Shadows surrounded his fist and he took a swing at Skull Writer's Block Person, who blocked it with a solid arm, then swung that arm out in a powerful, spark-flaring attack.

Holy cow. If nothing else, this transformation was having an impact. Whisperion focused on the battle, channeling the different flavors of darkness curling around Skull Writer's Block Person into light and life. Maaaaybe this was okay?

  In Writer's Block Person's head, it was not okay, and at the same time, it was glorious. It was fire and rage and righteousness and truth and helpless shouting at the void. And then they heard the void whispering back.

  There's so much pain to this, it whispered. The pain of people's suffering. If you let go of it, you could have this fire, this strength, without the pain... you could be strong... I made this one strong, but you could be stronger... get it?

For a moment, Skull Block Person stood, smoldering in place.

"Yeah," they said. "I get it."

With both hands, they grabbed the monstrous man, gripping the plates of hardened material on his chest, and ripped them away! "I GET that you want to FUCKING use me like you USED everyone in the FUCKING WORLD, you ASSHOLE!"

The man shouted in pain, real pain, sounding helpless, stumbling back. The unprotected-- material? flesh? was red-gray, and shadow streamed from it.  Skull Writer's Block Person lashed out along the unprotected flesh, and it bled bright, bursting in lines of blazing sparks. "You want to turn us all into your pathetic machines to make money or what-the-fuck-EVER and for WHAT? NOTHING!"

No... whispered a voice.

Whisperion's head jerked up - she heard the voice - recognized it, or rather, the way it threaded through the wrinkles of her brain - this was a demon.

For everything... For power... all the power in all the worlds... you could have it... could be mine... ours...

"Get. The fuck. OUT OF MY SKULL!" Skull Writer's Block Person grabbed the monstrous head, stared into its glowing green eyes, and blazed. Their eyes burned a red whose color went beyond the physical operation of rods and cones, an impossible hyperbolic ultrascarlet that burst right through the electromagnetic spectrum and into the metaphysical.

There was a sound that didn't exist, sheet metal being ripped apart overlaid with heavy static. The demon was screaming. The man's body was frozen in a rictus of shock, his face tight, without the glee, without the power.

Skull Writer's Block Person let go of his head, and he fell, boneless, to the pavement and the grass. They spread their arms and screamed at the sky. "STOP DOING THIS TO ME!"

"Drew, it's okay!" Whisperion tossed her staff to the side and raised her hands. "It's done, you can stop--"

"NO I CAN'T!" They covered their face with their claws, panting, great ragged breaths. She could see the tension in their arms, the little twitches that accompanied every movement. "It's not done, I, Whisperion-- you can feel it, right-- I--" Their shoulders went up and a series of shudders wracked their body. "Min-young, I gotta-- they're so awful and maybe I can fix it and maybe I can fight it because they're all out there and they're HURTING us and I HAVE TO STOP THEM!" They threw their head back and screamed, and leapt into the air, and out of sight.

Shit, thought Whisperion, this has officially gone Too Far. Someone had to snap them out of this. ...unfortunately, she didn't know how. Maybe if the demon--

She looked and nope. The monstrous man was gone. Well, double shit!

Okay, keep it together. Her staff blazed with light and she cleared the last of the darkness out of her system, clearing her head. They had a lot of allies; who among them would be best to stop a Writer's Block Person who had gone off and--

Oh, duh. Whisperion looked around. Which one of these was Distraction Damsel's house?

...well, probably the one with the lawn gnomes in hot pink and banana yellow, the snow sculpture of humanity swordfighting God, and the big sign that said "NOT THE HOUSE OF DISTRACTION DAMSEL, THAT'S FOR SURE" on the roof. Must be nice to live in a neighborhood without a homeowner's association.

Whisperion picked her way across the crazy-paving walk and knock-knock-knocked on the door with the window painted on it. "Hoy! Alarums! Calls to action! Distraction Damsel, I need your help!"

The intercom (disguised as a fake rock with a fake key under it) crackled. "Look," said Distraction Damsel, "I told y'all. I don't fight bad guys, I just fight heroes when they need fightin'."

"No, no, no," said Whisperion. "It's Writer's Block Person! They've gone berserk!"

A loud squee came out of the intercom, and then it went silent. Whisperion heard a door open and slam shut on the other side of the house, and Distraction Damsel ran out from behind a stand of rainbow flamingos. "Eee!" she said. "Kismessitude! :D"

Hey, wait, has Distraction Damsel been described yet? Wow, no. Okay, I'll do that now: She's a lanky black girl, speckled with vitiligo, with foofy pink hair, wearing purple glasses, a holofoil bodysuit, and oversized golden gloves and boots like in anime or Mickey Mouse. She wears a purple cargo utiliskirt with oversized pockets full of distractions; glitter, confetti, inflatable dolls, just one more episode, ponderings on the ineffability of existence, and so on. Right now she is very happy so let's continue with that.

The two of them got on Whisperion's moped and sped over to where all the yelling was coming from. Skull Writer's Block Person was standing outside a (thankfully closed) restaurant, yelling at a "NO LOITERING" sign.

"...trying to make it illegal for people to EXIST, or just to be POOR!?" In a single blow, they slashed the sign to ribbons, scoring the brick beneath with clawmarks. The one janitor who had been in the place exited quietly out the back door because they sure as hell weren't dealing with this today.

"Yikes." Distraction Damsel flipped off the moped and ran her hands thru her hair, making it extra foofy. "This is gonna be easy, tho."

"Seriously?" said Whisperion, raising an eyebrow. "They look pretty focused."

"Watch and learn." Distraction Damsel pirouetted up to Skull Writer's Block Person. "Hey, nerd!"

They spun, claws at the ready. "Viv! Nrrrrgh--" Their hands went to their head. "Keep back, I gotta-- gotta focus, I can't--"

Before Skull Writer's Block Person could finish their thought, Distraction Damsel pointed at them and said, "Why don't you just put the whole world in a bottle??"

"Er..." Skull Writer's Block Person lowered their hands, and their burning crimson eyes blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Whoops, wrong one." Distraction Damsel pulled a stack of index cards out of her pocket and leafed thru them. "Here we go..." She tossed them over her shoulder and pointed at Skull Writer's Block Person again. "If you're fighting the bad guys with your new powers, when are you going to have time to write?"

"Uh... well, I guess I'm gonna have to rest sometime, so--"

"And if you're doing that when are you gonna have time to hang out with people?"

"Er, well, if they want to fight evil with me--"

"And if you're doing that what about those books you wanna read,"

"Um--"

"and what about going to those community meetings you're always talking about,"

"Uh--"

"Or organizing your stuff better, or learning to draw, or having a sexy time, or--"

POP-hwoosh! In a burst of crimson light, Skull Writer's Block Person de-transformed, and Drew tumbled to the sidewalk. "...ow..."

Distraction Damsel mimed blowing off a pair of six-shooters and stuck them in her belt. "My job here... is done!"

"Oh, right," said Whisperion. "They de-transform when they can't figure out what to do. I forgot it worked that way."

[Half an hour later...]

Writer's Block Person finished their turkey on rye and drank their glass of water. "Thanks." They leaned back. "I feel a lot better."

Whisperion nodded, clearing away the plates. "Good!" She deposited them in the kitchen, then came back and stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "You gotta take care of yourself, you nerd, or else shit like this happens."

"Ehe..." Writer's Block Person rubbed the back of their head and smiled. "You're right."

"Seriously, I was really worried about you." She took a step forward. "You really can't do shit like that. You're going to really hurt yourself and... and..." She ran across the room and swept them up in her arms, one around their back, one around the back of their head. "And you're too important for that. You're too good."

Writer's Block Person made a "mrhf!" noise as she embraced them, surprised but welcoming, and put their arms around her as best they could. She pressed their head into her shoulder, and they nuzzled in, standing there for a few minutes, cuddling, breathing.

Eventually, she let go. They gave her a little kiss on the neck, and took a step back, though their hands were still on her sides. "Sorry for worrying you, hon."

She chucked, smiled down at them. "It's okay."

"I dunno if I'm actually important, tho. Like, Comic Book Resources would probably call me a C-lister."

Whisperion snerked. "You're important to me, nerd."

Writer's Block Person smiled. "Fair fair. Then I guess, since I love you and all, I gotta take care of what's important to you. Which means..." They let go of her, spinning to point into the distance melodramatically. "It's time to activate... The Zero Closet!!"

Whisperion gasped, then clenched her fist. "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" Writer's Block Person leapt over to the closet, tossed the door open, then spun dramatically to look at her. "I'll need it!"

Whisperion held up her fist for a moment, trembling... then broke out in guffaws. "Heeheeheehee. Okay, weirdo." She blew them a kiss. "Have fun, I'll hang out and finally get some reading done."

Writer's Block Person giggled. "Thanks, hon, you're a peach~" They stepped into the closet and closed the door behind them.

This had originally been a hallway, back when this building was a set of deluxe luxury apartments for the robber-baron-era Pittsburgh elite. Now, it was a big-ass closet with several smaller closets along the walls. It was also an excellent space to be alone with one's thoughts.

With one flip of a switch, the closet was bathed in light from several full-spectrum lamps. Writer's Block Person sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, letting the light fill them.

Slowly, the wisps of seasonal depression rose out of their mind. They inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, letting the random activity of their mind settle down. When it felt like they'd reached some kind of equilibrium, they reached up and turned off the lights.

The darkness was a closet, a close, confined space. And Writer's Block Person took their mental model of the space, and made the walls fall away. It stretched off, now, in all directions, their surroundings one part of a vast space.

In the space, a door rose up - not like the one on the depths, but familiar, solid, the door that you can open and say "I'm home!" And with a little creak and a jingle, the door opened. Two figures stepped through.

One was an anthropomorphic bull, long-horned with orange, shaggy fur. She was six feet tall, muscular, and wearing a flannel shirt and magenta-pink denim overalls. Through her nose was a ring in the shape of a Venus symbol.

[Bedelia Dunaidh. Highland Cattle bullwoman. Strong and warm and proud of you. Playful and powerful. Horn-y on main.]

The other was a woman whose paleness was the hard-earned result of many days spent inside. She wore a black crop top, a holofoil skirt and wraparound reflective shades, plus dark blue glittery lipstick.

[Nyx. The ultimate '90s hacker. Sparkles and neon and scrolling green letters. Snarky as hell. Loves to not give a fuck.]

Bedelia closed the door behind her, and with a wave of her hand, it slipped down into the endless mindscape. She stood, relaxed and confident, a pillar of strength.

"Well!" said Nyx, leaning back against the wall with a smirk. "That didn't go well."

"Now, now," said Bedelia. She knelt down and put her hand on Writer's Block Person's shoulder. "How are you doing, love?"

They sighed. "Well, not as bad, but..." They shook their head. "God, I could've really hurt someone. I mean, I did hurt someone, but someone who, y'know, wasn't physically attacking me. ...which I still feel guilty about, anyway."

Nyx rolled her eyes. "You were halfway to burning yourself out as it was. You would've taken a swipe at an innocent rando and keeled over from anxiety."

"Well, maybe." Writer's Block Person rubbed their upper arms, looking oddly comforted by the idea. "Still... ugh." They shook their head again, looking down at their feet. "I was so hungry to do things, so hungry to unleash my anger on a deserving target..." A lonely howl sounded from far away. "I still am."

"That anger's still in you," said Bedelia, "though it's cooled, now that you've released it. And that's no bad thing; there is much in this world to be angry about. The trick, of course, is keeping your own will and compassion in the face of it."

Writer's Block Person sighed. "Yeah... mnnnngh... bleh. I just want to be effective." They ran their fingers thru their hair. "It's so hard to feel like I'm really doing anything. Like, people are suffering in ways I can't help them with, because of what somebody did to them, or what somebody's doing to them now. Even inside my cute little bubble, sometimes." They sighed, looking up at the invisible ceiling.

Bedelia stepped behind them and sank her fingers into their hair, rubbing their scalp. "You are being effective. You're supporting people, every day. You don't always see the results immediately. Sometimes they seem unaffected, sometimes they just get frustrated at themselves or the world, end up screaming or burned out. But that doesn't mean they are unaffected. Every little gesture of support matters. It creates a pattern of support; it becomes part of people's lives, a feeling like there is support out there, even if it isn't available right now."

They sighed. "I know. It's just hard when I can't see it."

She smiled. "You're a dandelion."

They tilted their head back, looking up at her. "...thank you?"

Bedelia laughed, rich and husky. "You want to plant the seeds of people's stability and goodness, but you don't realize you already are. You're just planting them willy-nilly, like dandelion seeds blown by the wind, letting kindness float out into the world. Your reckless love lands and grows all over the land. And you really don't need to worry that any one gesture of support falls flat, because there's a dozen more growing tall and strong and nigh-impossible to root out."

"...awh." Writer's Block Person took a deep breath, let it out. "That's... really good to hear."

"Excellent, you deserve good things."

They sighed. "Still don't really know how to deal with this anger, tho."

"That's my cue." Nyx stepped forward... and flopped down lazily over Writer's Block Person's lap, making them oof. "So nerd, one question." She snuggled into place, relaxing. "Why you gotta be so angry?"

"Well, 'cause of all of this awful stuff, I thought I said."

"Nah nah nah." Nyx stuck out a finger and booped them on the nose. "You're not listenin'. Why do you have to be angry? Izzit fixin' the problem?"

"I mean... not really. But I just am angry."

"Yeah, but that's the thing." She sat up, putting an arm around their shoulders. "You've got those feelings, but you don't gotta feel them all the time."

"That's true," said Bedelia. "You're trying to deal with every bit of it at once."

"Yeah, but..." Writer's Block Person slumped back, boneless. "I worry that, if I don't make sure I feel all of the bad things as they come up, I'm going to fall back into a place where I can't feel them, where they're just lurking below the surface, fucking with me unpredictably." They sighed. "I've worked so hard to get outta that place..."

Nyx sat up in their lap. "First off, yeah, yeah, fair." She wrapped an arm around their shoulders. "Second... you're an idiot." She pressed her fist down and gave them a noogie.

"l;fgljkfd!" They flailed!

"You did work stupid hard, and you're not gonna undo all that work just by takin' a break from feeling it!" A-noogienoogienoogie and Nyx let go.

"I, bu, I..." Writer's Block Person attempted to words and failed.

"It's true," said Bedelia. "Distancing yourself from your feelings in the moment can absolutely be healthy, as long as you let yourself work through those feelings when you have the time and the focus."

Nyx nodded firmly. "I know you hate all that '90s ironic distance bullshit, but there's a reason people liked it." She mussed up Writer's Block Person's hair and they wiggled. "It's okay to fuckin' enjoy it, nerd. 'S not going to ruin your precious emotional vulnerability."

"Yeah... I guess so." Writer's Block Person ran their hand thru their hair and smiled.

Bedelia grinned. "Well then." She leaned down, picked both of them up in her arms together, and squeezed them in a tight hug. Nyx acked and flailed. Writer's Block Person was squished between them, and for a moment, was crushed in comforting self-love.

Nyx managed to wriggle out and hop down, and Bedelia put Writer's Block Person back down on the floor, and smoothed out their hair. "We'd best let you take care of things now."

Writer's Block Person shook themself out and nodded. "All right."

Bedelia waved her hand and the door rose back up out of the darkness.

Nyx hopped up. "Remember when this series was all about getting an issue done in a day? Hah!"

Bedelia opened the door, releasing a breath of summer. "Take care, dear," she said. "Remember, we're always with you."

"I know." They smiled. "I can feel you cheering me on."

"Right, 'n just so you don't forget." Nyx pulled off her sunglasses and gave them a toss, with a spin that landed them directly in Writer's Block Person's lap. "Catch ya on the flipside~"

The door closed. Writer's Block Person sighed, and opened their eyes. The darkness was just darkness again. They flipped on the the light - not the sun lamps, just the regular lightbulb. The closet was just a closet again.

But the sunglasses were still in their lap.

Whisperion looked up from her book as the door to the Zero Closet creaked open and Writer's Block Person stepped out. "How'd it go?"

"I feel better," they said, looking down at the sunglasses. "But... I'm not sure what my next step is."

"That's fair. Wanna hang out and chew it over?" Whisperion patted the couch next to her.

"Yes please." They sat down on the couch, their legs over her lap, and relaxed. They got out their phone and started checking their messages. Ah, Edwina was on another ramble about proofreading on the Discord server.

| ...and, as no messaging client as yet supports the "new paragraph" symbol, I propose that it be created as a transparent image and included in our server's list of custom emoji.

Thank you for your time. - Ed. (UE) |

"...THAT'S IT!"

"Please don't scream in my ear," said Whisperion mildly.

[A couple days later]

Whisperion and Distraction Damsel were having a nice picnic. It was a bit chilly for it, but the sun had come out and most of the snow had melted, so they didn't care. They sat on a blanket in the park, and snacked on sammiches and chips.

Writer's Block Person stood in front of them, bouncing from foot to foot. They were already transformed, and holding their sparkly purple transformation pen in one hand. "So, I had to practice this a lot, but I think I got it down. You ready? Um..." They bounced a bit, caught between excitement and politeness. "Need any more food, or... anything?"

Whisperion laughed and shook her head. "We're ready!" She gave them a thumbs-up.

"One hundred percent up for learning your strategies so I can take advantage of it later!" Distraction Damsel gave two thumbs up.

Writer's Block Person giggled. "Okay, then..." They held the pen out at arm's length. They took a deep breath and...

  ...reached down inside, down deep, it was easier this time, finding that door. They took the knob and they didn't have to fling it open, they could open it just a crack, hold their position and just feel what they wanted, what they could handle...

Click! "EMOTICONVERSION! CUSTOM CODE POINT! SKULL WITH COOL SUNGLASSES!"

A flat CGI image appeared in front of them, of a cartoony skull wearing sunglasses. It flew into their form and exploded in CGI flames, and when the flames died down, they'd transformed.

Their armor was shining white with bright red accents and a simple black bodysuit. Along the sides and back of their chestpiece were vents. Their cape was red, with a line of white fire running along the bottom. On their head, atop their helmet, was a white trilby hat with a black band, held in a rakishly tilted position, and their visor was shaped like sunglasses as well. In place of their belt buckle was a bright red lever, and In the center of their chest was a ruby with the silhouette of a skull wearing sunglasses.

"Yessss!" They pumped their fist. "Okay, and now..." They held out their pen again. "PEN IS MIGHTIER! BONE OF MY SWORD!" Click!

In a fiery flash, the pen transformed into a curving white sword with a sparkly purple grip. Bony protrusions curved out of the pommel, and in the middle, a skull-with-sunglasses-shaped ruby was mounted.

"Ooooh!" "Ahhhh!" Whisperion and Distraction Damsel applauded.

Writer's Block Person grinned under their mask. "Right, and..." They started going through basic sword exercises, stepping back and forth, the blade slicing through the air, fighting against an imaginary opponent.

As they practiced, memories floated into their mind, and they let them come. Memories of the monstrous man, and the things he'd said. Memories of the times they hadn't been able to help. Memories of the people who seemed to sit, apathetic, in the face of suffering. They held their position, letting the anger through as a natural flow, not an explosion of pain...

And as the anger rose in them, the bone-white blade began to glow. Gradually, it heated up, turning a lurid red. Writer's Block Person's movements became more forceful, more decisive, the sword swings accompanied by plumes of steam. They spun and danced, the anger rising and rising, and they used it, and they used it, and it became almost too big to use and...

Their off-hand went to the lever at their belt. They raised their sword for a decisive strike, and pulled the lever; and the anger in their body exploded out into the world, and steam burst from their vents, and the sword flashed a brilliant crimson, and they brought it down in a burst of blinding light.

When the light faded, Writer's Block Person was kneeling on the ground. The sword was white again, wisps of steam rising from the blade and from their vents. For a moment, all that was audible was the wind...

Then they bounced up and shook themselves out. "Whew!" They de-transformed, put the pen away, and ran their hands thru their hair, grinning. "That's better. Sometimes ya just gotta let off some steam."

Whisperion laughed, standing up and pulling them into a hug. "That's great!"

"Good job!" said Distraction Damsel, munching on chips. "Lots of color, ten outta ten."

Writer's Block Person laughed and hugged. "God. I feel so much better."

"Yeah?" said Whisperion.

"Yeah! I can live in this world, face its awfulness, without freaking out. And..." They turned, and looked off into the distance, fist clenched. "When that guy comes back for a rematch-- I'm ready!"

[June 2018, over three months later]

"...REALLY, CAPTION BOX?" Writer's Block Person, in a Squirrel Girl T-shirt and a light summer skirt, flopped over Whisperion's lap. "Uuuugh. I'm worried about that guy."

"He did try to kill you," said Whisperion, petting their hair.

"Yeah and probably I killed him. Probably I straight-up killed him gaaaaaaah." They rolled over, mooshing their face into a pillow.

Whisperion rubbed their back. "Hon, he disappeared straight away. Probably went off to recover."

Writer's Block Person propped themself up on their elbows. "I guess, but why's it been so long? Ugh, I also hate the idea of him just lurking out there, doing shit..."

"He also seemed to be pretty focused on you, as an enemy." Whisperion pet their hair. "I'm sure you'll get that rematch."

"I guess..." They sighed. "I just don't want someone else to suffer for my personal development. Even if it's a demon guy."

"That's fair. But you can't affect it right now. The worry's not useful right now, so put it away and live your life."

"Yeah, you're right." Writer's Block Person sat up, and stretched out, and looked out the window. "For now, it's a new day, and we keep moving forward."

"That's right." Whisperion handed Writer's Block Person a roll of paper towels and a bottle of spray. "And you can move forward by cleaning the bathroom grout."

Writer's Block Person blinked in surprise, then snerkgiggled. "Awwww, but I'm having an emotional moment!"

"Look," she grinned, "you *told* me to make you do it, so I'm makin' you~"

"And what are you gonna do if I don't? Spank me?" They stuck out their tongue.

"No, I'm gonna TICKLE YOU!" She leapt on them and began the torment.

"EEEEEheeheeheeheenoooo..."

On the corner of the dresser, a pair of sunglasses glinted as the sun began to set. Life went on.

----

Author's Note: "Min-young" is a Korean given name. Whisperion's is specifically spelled with the hanja pronounced "min" that means "clever" and the one pronounced "young" that means both "flower petals" and "heroic". Distraction Damsel's first name is Viviana. It doesn't have any especially relevant meaning, I just liked it - which seems perfect for her.

#Original Fiction #Superheroes #Adventure #Silliness #Legion of Net.Heroes #LNH20 #Writer's Block Person

[shamelessly4shameless-blog]

The Sand In Your Shoe (pt 6)

The telephone in the bar starts ringing just as Mickey is changing a barrel. He yells for someone else to get it but no one does.

“Hey! Can someone get the fuckin’ phone, please?”

The barrel slips and lands painfully on his bare foot.  

“Mother fucker!!”

Mickey punches the metal casing sharply and stands up, glaring at it.

“I’ll just do everything my fuckin’ self shall I?”

He yells at no one in particular in the split second before he snatches the ringing phone off the hook

“Yeah, what?”

“Collect call from Chicago, Illinois. Will you accept the charges?”

A friendly automated voice asks and Mickey tells it to go fuck itself before hanging up and stomping out to the kitchen where Juan is chopping limes and flirting with Mandy.

“Didn’t you two assholes hear me yelling?

“Yeah but you’re always yelling so we ignored it.”

Mandy grins at her brother and receives a raised middle finger in return

“I’m goin’ upstairs. Juan, change the fuckin’ barrel ...”

“Which one boss?”

“The one that’s fuckin’ empty! Jesus Christ! Oh and leave my sister the fuck alone. You can do better.”

Mickey gives Mandy a sarcastic, open-mouthed grin before turning and heading to his room and she raises her own single-digit salute to his retreating back.

“Dick-splash!”

Mandy calls affectionately

“Cock guzzler.”

Mickey yells back

“Takes one to know one.”

Mandy’s voice is triumphant and Mickey tongues the inside of his cheek, refusing to laugh but he doesn’t yell anything back either, grudgingly conceding the win to her.

He blames the collect call. It is the code he and Svetlana use for emergencies. If she is calling then someone is dead, in prison or the Feds are sniffing around for him again.

Mickey takes the stairs to his room two at a time and rifles through his clothes drawer to find a fresh burner phone. He always has two or three ready to use just in case although Svetlana is as cautious about contacting him as he is. Mickey knows that this has very little to do with his actual wellbeing more the fact that he sends money for Yevgeny every month and whatever is best for Yevgeny, that is what Svetlana will do. Mickey likes that about her.

He punches the number in and waits. Svetlana answers after two rings

“Yevgeny OK?”

Mickey asks without preamble and he hears the smile in her voice when she answers

“He’s fine. You are getting better at asking that though. It almost sounds like you care.”

“Fuck you. What’s going on then?”

“Carrot Boy, he says Hello.”

Mickey swallows, his throat suddenly dry and closes his eyes. Whatever he expected it wasn’t that.

“Ian?”

“Yes. He says Hello.”

“What did you say back?”

Mickey’s voice sounds strange even to his own ears and he coughs to try and clear the croakiness from it.

“That you are fine and that I would pass his message on. I also took his number.”

“Did you give him mine?”

“Of course not!”

Mickey licks his lip and he nods for a second before realising that Svetlana can’t see him. Of course she wouldn’t have given out his number, she’s smarter than that which is useful because right now Mickey is not.

“You still there?”

“Yes I’m here.”

“Well can I have his number?”

A pause down the end of the line that can’t be more than a few seconds but to Mickey feels like much longer.

“I will post it to you.”

“What the fuck? Why?”

“Because the red one makes you as crazy as he is. You will come running to him, get yourself arrested and make no money and then Yevgeny does not get new school clothes. You must think.”

“Number fuckin’ one, he’s not crazy, he has a fuckin’ illness. Two, you got no right to withhold that phone number from me like I’m some dipshit who can’t take care of his fucking self and three, I’ve been sending plenty of cash so the kid should have new clothes already. You need more money, get on your knees and earn it.”

Mickey can hear his voice rising to a near shout and doesn’t give a flying fuck. He gets on well with Svetlana with a couple thousand miles between them but he’s not above being an asshole when she talks to him like he’s an idiot.

When she answers her voice is level and polite as if she had not heard his outrage at all and that irritates him almost as much as her previous comments.

“I will post it.”

“Fuck sake.”

Mickey wants to hit something but contents himself with a heavy breath through his nose.

“You want to hear about your son now?”

“Sure.”

Mickey really doesn’t have much head space to hear about little league and school reports at the moment but he listens anyway. Svetlana talks for a while and then pauses and says

“Yevgeny stole his first car.”

“Good.”

Micky mumbles absent-mindedly and hears a snort down the line

“I knew you were not listening.”

“I am fucking listening!”

“Really? I just told you your son stole his first car and you said ‘Good’?”

“Yeah. Why? Did he fuck it up?”

Svetlana laughs and Mickey makes an impatient gesture at the phone, confused.

“Thank God for the Mexican border. Good bye Mikhailo.”

“Wait … Ian’s number. C’mon Svet, don’t be an asshole. It’s been four fuckin’ years. I just wanna say hello to him.”

“You already did. He said hello back. That part is done. I will post it.”

The phone goes dead and Mickey stares at the little plastic box in his hand as if he has never seen one before.

“What the fuck just happened?”

He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, fists balled lightly on his knees. He stares into space for a moment, not seeing the poorly painted walls of his room but a carousel of images that flicker through his consciousness one after the other so quickly he is sure that if he blinks he will miss them.

Freckles across the back of broad, capable hands

Green eyes, lit with laughter and a little red from drinking the night before

A smattering of red hair across the planes of a flat belly

Dark red eyelashes sweeping pales cheekbones, casting shadows in the dim light of a lamp as he watches Ian sleep.

A blue plaid shirt stretched across shoulders that Mickey knows are bruised with his kisses.

Gallagher.

Mickey can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, doesn’t even try and stop it.

The thought of hearing Ian’s voice… Mickey sits up and presses his lips together suddenly overwhelmed.

What the Hell will he say?

He shrugs his shoulders and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes wiping away the moisture which threatens to spill over his lashes.

It doesn’t matter. All that matters is he’ll have a chance to say something. Even if it is only fucking ‘Hello’ again.

*

Mickey tries to go about his day as usual but he is smiling too much and Mandy keeps giving him these amused little looks until she finally takes a couple of beers from the bar fridge and tugs him away from the counter he is wiping down.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s clean Mick, it’s been clean for ten minutes. Come and take a break.”

She leads him outside and they sit side by side on the bar porch, the old wood dusted with sand and bleached almost white by the sun.

“What’s going on? You look like you just got your dick sucked.”

“Fuck off. I can’t smile a little now without something being up?”

“You can but you never do.”

Mandy lights a cigarette and passes it over to him with a smirk that makes her brother roll his eyes impatiently

“If I tell you, you can’t make a fuckin’ fuss about it, you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

Mandy nods, sips her beer and waits.

“Svet called … She spoke to Ian and he said to say hey.”

“Ian? Gallagher?”

“How many fuckin’ Ian’s do you know? Yes Gallagher.”

Mandy’s face lights up and she reaches across and squeezes Mickey’s hand tightly

“You happy? Course you’re fucking happy. Look at your face.”

Mickey smiles almost shyly and nods.

“It’s good to know he’s still around. I mean, you know, I don’t fuckin’ care what he’s doing or shit like that, but to know he’s still around and he’s OK – that’s good.”

“Do you think he wants to pick up with you?”

“Nah. Probably not.”

Mickey sounds falsely nonchalant and Mandy sees the pulse in his throat jump a little.

“He might, Mickey.”

“You don’t seem fuckin’ surprised. Did you know he was gonna say something?”

“No. Don’t be paranoid. I just always thought he would one day.”

Mandy releases his hand and sits back looking out across the beach spread out before them but slowly, she allows her gaze to rove round and settle on her big brother.

He is a little tanned and his hair is a little longer than she remembers him wearing it in South Side. The tan of his face makes his blue eyes appear even bluer than usual. Mandy has always been jealous of his eyes, they’re clear and beautiful and she wishes she had that same shade inherited from their mother rather than their father’s darker orbs.

Mickey’s body is different too, leaner than it used to be and he holds himself a little differently too. She can’t quite describe how it is different but the effect is that he looks less wary of the world, more at ease in his own skin.

Mexico has been good for him, good for her too and she will always be grateful to him for dragging her out there and helping her get set up. Kenyatta had finally left her alone and she had taken up with another guy, Phil, who she mostly dated because of his name. He was less violent than Kenyatta but not by much and someone must have told Mickey because one day, three years after he disappeared into the Mexican sunset, her brother had appeared at her door and told her to pack her shit.  

She’d resisted at first and been pissed at him for interfering. She’d yelled at him, pushed him, bitten his arm hard enough to draw blood when he tried to shut her up and slapped his face hard enough to leave a bruise when he yelled back at her.

Finally they’d worn themselves out and Mickey had offered her a cigarette. As they smoked in tense silence her brother had put an arm around her shoulders and spoken to her more gently than she remembered him speaking her in her life. He had told her he was sorry for not doing more to shelter her before. He told her that she was worth so much more than Kenyatta or Phil and especially Lip Gallagher, that asshole!

He called her beautiful and traced the curve of her cheek bone with one thumb, wiping away her tears with a gentleness she didn’t know he still had and as he spoke the years of confusion and loss fell away leaving only the core of their relationship, naked and fragile as a newly hatched chick.

“Let me take care of you, Mand. I love you.”

So she had gone with him and expected nothing more than a few weeks shitty vacation before he would change his mind and kick her out but Mickey surprised her at every tun and was as good as his word. He took care of her.

Their relationship began to rebuild both of them learning how to exist in a new environment that wasn’t dominated by violence and Terry’s moods. Mickey still got into fights, Mandy still fucked around a little more than she really wanted to, but they were free to make those choices without fear and Mandy would hand Mickey ice for his swollen knuckles without comment and he left her coffee on the bedside table in the mornings when she slept in late. They’ll never be the Walton’s but they’re family all the same.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

Mickey is peering at her impatiently and Mandy smiles to herself, shaking her head

“Nothing.”

She hesitates

“Do you think Ian is going to call you?”

“Svet only took his number.”

“So are you going to call him?”

“Maybe. I dunno what I’d say.”

“Just say what you said to me.”

Mandy smiled the warmth of memory still around her like a shawl.

“Cock-Guzzler?”

“No! Fuck sake, Mickey! Say something sweet to him.”

“I dunno. Yeah. Nah. He knows how I feel.”

He squints into the sun and stubs his smoke out, not quite willing to make eye contact with her.

“Maybe four years ago but if I was him, I’d think you probably hate me. For not coming with you?”

“No. He knows I don’t … I … I fuckin’ wish I could hate him. Ginger prick!”

“Tell him that and then tell him you love him.”

Mandy laughs and stands up kissing his head and heading back into the bar. A lot has changed but she still thinks that women were invented to think for men. In this case she hopes a competent woman is thinking for Ian too.

#shameless #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #mickey milkovich #gallavich #Milkovich #mandy milkovich #Mickey and Mandy

[mollymauk-teafleak]

So! 

You guys know my friend @minky-for-short, fantastic artist, brilliant writer and all round wonderful person and one of the lights of my life. Honestly, you know when there’s an artist on Tumblr you really admire and look up to because they’re just so talented and think you’d never be able to talk to them in a million billion years because they’re so cool? Jackie was that for me and the day I actually got my act together and talked to her was a Real Good Decision. 

It’s @minky-for-short‘s birthday today soooo I wrote her a little present of a fic from her absolutely phenomenal Hamliza treasure hunter AU. It’s based off a piece of art she did for me thats honestly so stunning I could stare at it for hours and wonder why it isn’t hanging in the frigging MoMA. So enjoy!

It had the potential to drive people a little crazy, Eliza thought as she leaned against her older sister’s shoulder and felt the heat of the crackling fire, all this moving around. Being in so many different places with their own rules and their own way the air tasted and the sun rested on her lightly freckled shoulders. It could feel like being lost sometimes, as much as she adored this life and this job and every wild, wonderful corner of the world she was privileged enough to see.

Nothing was perfect, after all.

Eliza had learned to find her own constants, her own way of adapting and looking at what was around her so she’d still feel like herself no matter what blanket of stars she sat under. She’d learned that whether they were digging in the Sahara, sleeping in the shade of towering, pitted rock formations or crouched under tarpaulins to avoid the rain as they scoured Celtic ruins in the highest fringe of Scotland or sleeping on raised platforms to avoid whatever insects crawled through the mulch that passed for the ground under the vast canopies in the amazon, some things stayed the same.

Lafayette would always bemoan John’s attempt at making bouillabaisse whenever they were near the coast, to which John would cheerfully reply that he could either have it poured down his mouth or into any other hole in his body, his choice. Hercules would always go and buy a bracelet from the nearest local market to add to the brightly coloured collection that ran up his arms. Angelica would violently curse the whole scientific concept of humidity while wrapping her hair up in one of the brightly coloured scarves Eliza would make her for every birthday and Christmas. Maria would tell Peggy, exhaustedly, that no, it was not medically safe to mix the awful freeze dried coffee they had to drink on missions and crushed up energy pills, no it’s really not, give that here right now, it’s going in the river.

Some things would always stay the same and it was these rocks jutting up in the restless tide of her life that Eliza treasured.

She thought of them lazily that night, the heavy air pressing on her like comforting hands, her tongue still prickling excitedly with the spicy pottage Hercules had made for dinner, her eyes drinking in the shadows that writhed and pulsed with unseen life at the fringes of the campground’s light. Angelica turned and kissed her forehead as she moved away to go help Peggy, whose tent’s right side had caved in again, leaving Eliza blinking a little sleepily, chuckling fondly at her sisters.

And then there was warm skin brushing the back of her neck, making something that felt like electricity crackle through her. Alex’s fingers scraping against her as he wandered past where she sat, apparently on his way to his own tent, the most innocent and accidental of gestures but Eliza knew exactly what it meant. And as she turned just a little to look at him as he passed, she caught the slight glance he threw over his shoulder, the way the muscles under his shirt tensed and his gaze caught the firelight almost as if the flames were coming from the depths of his eyes rather than anywhere else.

Eliza could easily believe that it was.

She murmured something about going down to the river to get more water for the night, though no one was really listening to her. The tent disaster was absorbing the attentions of the rest of the team, either to help or to laugh their asses off, in John’s case.

Thank you, Peggy, Eliza thought with a wry smile as she got up, brushed the dust from her legs and made a subtle exit amidst the chaos.

The actual getting away part was never hard, not with this team.

Here was another constant Eliza had come to rely on. A fairly new one, one that still confused her and surprised her in a lot of ways but she clung to it, if anything, more fiercely than any other.

Alexander.

Eliza couldn’t even say herself where this had all come from. Why Alex had gotten under her skin so much when they first met, why every word out of his mouth had felt like a strike to an exposed nerve, why she’d been close to quitting the team altogether just to get away from him. She was even less sure why she’d suddenly realised that the strong feelings she’d always had from the first time she’d seen that wry smirk had actually been ones of attraction, desire, affection even. Why now no one could make her smile the way he did. Why she’d never had anyone make her writhe and scream and buck the way he did with nothing but his mouth. Why she kept hold of every shirt and pair of shorts he accidentally left in her tent, wearing them at night and getting so much comfort from his musky scent on the fabric.

Why she was here right now, sitting in the makeshift chair offered by two entwining branches of a low hanging jungle tree, surrounded by the fresh, aloe scent of its leaves, waiting for the man she used to think she despised.

Wonders would never cease.

Alex was never late; soon Eliza was pulled from her daydream by the gentle crunch of his boot soles on the wet earth like all her puzzling and calculating over him and whatever they had together was attracting him towards her like a beacon.

Forty paces northeast from the centre of the campfire. A flexible meeting place for their trysts to match the varying backgrounds they were given. Somehow, by some twist of luck’s fingers or small concession of the heavens, it was always beautiful.

“Evening.”

Eliza only opened her eyes and turned to see him when she could feel he was right up close, leaning on the tree branch she sat on. He was so light footed, moving like a jungle cat, for the relentless impatience of his mouth, the boy did know how to move silently if he wanted. But Eliza was starting to learn how to hear him coming.

“Hey there,” she smiled, unconsciously tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Alex grinned, he had such a lovely way of doing that, so his eyes crinkled up at the edges and his teeth bared and his whole face looked so much more open and warm. A smile like the glare of a lighthouse cutting through the dark.

“So, glad your sister can’t pitch a tent for shit,” he mused, resting one hand on a lazy fist in such a casual manner, the manner of someone who had made such alien looking landscapes their home, “I was going a little crazy for you.”

Eliza’s cheeks warmed at his words. It had been a while since they’d had the opportunity to sneak away like this, it had been a hellishly busy job so far.

“For some sex, you mean?” she smiled wryly, pushing back so she could pretend it hadn’t affected her as much as it had.

“However, you want to think of it,” Alex shrugged, “I was trying to be nice…”

“You’ll have to try a little harder than that,” she chuckled, swinging her ankles, her feet just about grazing the floor.

He tilted his head, lips pursing, as if he was genuinely considering that to be a challenge.

“Come on then,” he motioned for her to follow him, ducking under the boughs and striding down the slope of the forest floor.

“Come on where?” she called, reluctant. It wasn’t like they’d had to make do with what they were given before, wasn’t like they were too proud to have sex up against a tree? Granted Alex had been left with some splinters in awkward places before, but she’d be gentle this time…

Alex snorted with laughter, spinning on his heels and holding his hand out to her, letting it hover there in the air.

“Schuyler, will you just trust me?” he smiled.

A simple enough question. Harder to answer. Best not to think about it too hard.

“Fine,” Eliza murmured, jumping down from the tree and sliding her hand into his.

She marvelled at how rough Alex’s palm was, at what felt like a scar running the whole length from between his third and fourth finger to his wrist. He marvelled at how soft hers were, in contrast to the old blisters on her writing fingers.

“I trust you,” she shrugged.

Eliza opened her mouth, her face crinkling in apprehension, twice on their short journey. Once when she first saw the yawning mouth of the small cavern tucked away in the erratic dips and rolls of the jungle, invisible until Alex pointed it out. The second when he disappeared inside and tried to pull her after him.

But each time Alex gave her a look and enigmatically waved her concerns away, reminding her of her own words.

Eliza was so, so glad she hadn’t wrenched her hand from his and took off, once she saw what he had found.

“Came across it on our first night here,” his voice bounced in the enclosed space, sounding like ten or twenty proud Alex’s chattering away by her ear, “An old lady in the village told me the area’s famous for underground waterfalls and streams so I spent Monday night finding one! Cool, right?”

Eliza blinked rapidly, still not convinced that what her eyes were showing her was reality. It just looked too damn perfect, it looked like something painted. The impossibly large space, jarring the perspective of what she’d seen up top, the walls of stone so dark and beaded with water, it looked like black diamond. Nothing but spotlights coming in from the regularly spaced holes in the soil ceiling, where roots and vines thick as Eliza’s forearm showed like bone in torn flesh. The immediate and intense damp in the air, easily traced back to the waterfall which ran from some cut in the wall and down into a pool of water so blue it couldn’t possibly be real and then from there on to god only knew where in the arteries and veins of the earth. And so many flowers. How could flowers grow underground? It made no sense but here they were, scattered in gaggles like finely dressed ladies at a party in gossipy clusters across the floor and running up the walls, breaking up the carpet of slick moss with bursts of colour.

How?

Eliza didn’t understand, finally able to tear her eyes away and look at Alex in sheer bewilderment, over where he was rocking almost coyly on his heels, a smile that could even be described as shy on his face.

“I thought you’d like it,” he noted the pleased flush of her face with satisfaction, “Thought it would be a nice place to spend an evening?”

Eliza felt something stir in her chest, shifting restlessly, maybe even hopefully behind her ribs.

He’d found this for her. To make her happy. And this wasn’t the kind of place for two friends to relieve tension, to fill the downtime on digs, to get rid of base needs. For two people just to have fun and nothing more.

There was something more pulsing in this quiet space, this piece of something too beautiful to exist. Part of Eliza knew exactly what that something was but a larger part of her didn’t want to say it, think it, admit to it.

That would be far too dangerous.

But maybe something like it could exist here? Eliza was confused but she knew she wanted that.

“Eliza?” Alex sounded worried, starting to think that maybe this wasn’t working it out as well as he’d hoped.

She turned to him, shaking whatever worries she had away. They had no place here.

“Thank you,” she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him firmly.

Alex couldn’t help a laugh bubbling up between their lips as he caught her by the hips and lifted her up, leaning into the kiss with enthusiasm. This was ground they both knew, a dance they both understood and recognised, slipped into eagerly. He could see his find had been a success.

Eliza ran her hands up under the black vest he wore, admiring how hot his skin was, he always seemed to run hotter than most people. It was hard for her not to think of him as the sun, with the heat and the life and the motion he’d brought to her life. She found his rapid heartbeat and pressed her face to it, feeling his fingers dig into her as her hands busied themselves raking long, red lines down his back, making him hiss and groan in delight.

“Eliza,” he gasped, shamelessly needy.

“I know,” she answered, knowing exactly what he meant, climbing down and setting to work.

She swept his vest up over his head, with a sharp, admiring intake of breath. Eliza would never not be struck by the sight of all her lover’s tattoos, the incredible complex twisting of designs and patterns that decorated both of his arms but also bled down his chest, joining and colliding beautifully in a clatter of different styles and symbols. They ended in a flower garden of violets blooming across the narrow triangle of his hips and his pubic bone, just about visible with the way his lose shorts hung off his body. Eliza felt a craving to see more so strong it was like every cell in her body was screaming for it. They were a new addition to his skin, he’d only had them done on a whim a few months ago on one of their brief furloughs in New York, apparently after one too many tequila shots with Laurens, but they were fast becoming Eliza’s favourite of all his ink.

Her fingers froze in the act of sliding Alex’s shorts down in order to see more of those carefully inked blossoms, done almost like watercolours in deep purple.

Her favourite flowers were violets. She’d told him that a while ago.

“Baby?” he frowned a little, seeing the way she stilled like the blood in her veins had solidified, “Eliza, we don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course not- “

“No,” she shook her head, finding her thoughts, “I’m okay, Alex, I promise.”

In the next second his shorts and boxers were pooled around his boots, the second after that, he was barefoot, the second after that and the headband was out of his hair, leaving it in a beautifully mussed tangle down to his shoulders that made a low whimper roll from Eliza’s lips as her hands skirted over it.

He gave her a genuine crooked smile, enjoying the look in her eyes as she studied his face.

“Are…are you going to get naked or are you going to spend all night staring at me?” he chuckled, blushing a little.

“Well that does sound tempting but I was thinking something more immediate,” Eliza smiled with affection, her hands moving to shed her own clothes.

They knew each other’s bodies so well by now, every inch, far better than Eliza would ever know the fondly tattered journals she carefully filled with detailed sketches of the artefacts they found and the ruins they countered, saving what scraps of ancient cultures she could find from the mouth of history; far better than Alex would ever know the sound of an enemy’s footsteps across sand, the way to rig up a shelter in the canopy of trees if you didn’t want to be found before dawn, than he knew to keep a small dagger under the inner sole of his boot because no enemy grunt or government checkpoint goon ever checked there.

So, Eliza knew Alex wanted to see her undress herself, to get to sit back and gaze longingly as she stripped off her clothes until she was bare and brazenly exposed to him, one hand brushing the curtain of her dark hair back from her face, the other trailing down her thigh. His expression made her heart beat faster.

“Take me,” her command was simple and soft, the words echoing in the grotto, again and again until Alex’s heart twisted with his need to fulfil her request.

He swept her up in his arms, tumbling her onto the moss, softer than any bed she’d ever lain on in her life. His mouth suddenly felt like it was everywhere at once, on her neck and along the soft line of her jaw, down the hollow of her throat, across her breasts, moving so fast she couldn’t follow, she could only gasp and pant as every brush of his lips on her skin sent heat coursing through her. The burning ghost of his lips lingered everywhere they touched until she was writhing, pulling him down, begging wordlessly for him, all of him.

But all Eliza got were his fingers, dipping between her legs teasingly, feeling how her flesh there burned and ached.

“You want me so badly, don’t you?” Alex sighed a little smugly, “God, you’re so wet…”

“Don’t be an ass,” she whined, biting at his earlobe, “Just fuck me.”

“Alright, alright,” he soothed, chuckling bemusedly, rearranging their tangled bodies so he could brace his hands on her shoulders, gazing down at her so beautifully laid out against the deep, alive green of this place, “I’ve got you, baby.”

And Eliza genuinely believed he did. He had more of her than either of them really knew.

For all he’d teased her, his own arousal was every bit as fierce, his erection pressing against her belly. He couldn’t help but shudder in relief as he shifted and squirmed until they were both in position and the very tip of him was pressed to her slick, almost silken skin.

“Oh…” he murmured, his jaw dropping, utterly lost in something so simple.

Eliza gave a small smile, drinking in his expression, “You gonna spend all night staring at me?” She echoed his words back at him with a warm pastiche of his sarcasm.

It earned her a lightheaded kind of giggle and the sensation of Alex’s whole length entering her, filling her until her back arched and her eyes widened, legs locking around his hips to anchor him, as if he had any intentions of doing anything but picking up his pace, pounding into her with a low growl of sheer want.

Eliza just gave herself over to him totally, letting her throat make its noises and her hips buck and roll as they needed to and her face twist and her hands cling to his shoulders desperately. Their moans ricocheted off the walls into some intense symphony of their voices as tangled and entwined as their bodies were. The cold fingers of mist from the waterfall were bliss on their burning skin, the scent of the flowers intoxicating, it all nearly too much. There were tears in Eliza’s eyes as she gasped and sank her teeth into Alex’s freckled shoulder with a high-pitched shriek; a sure sign she was close, she couldn’t hang on much longer.

Alex devoted himself utterly to bringing her to the finish, driving his hips with as much force as he can pull until she screams his name loud enough to bring his own orgasm crashing down on him suddenly and harshly he couldn’t even make a noise.

Alex had never liked coming down. There was always an emptiness to it, a worry that maybe nothing would ever be as good again, he’d never feel so complete and he’d always be chasing something he could never get back.

But not this time.

This time, as his brain pieced itself back together, he had Eliza’s arms around him. He had soft greenery underneath his back as he rolled over. He had her warm breath against his shoulder as she murmured thanks and her hands trailing across his chest in lazy, happy circles.

Every so often Alex would have what he considered to be strokes of genius. They were few and far between but when they hit they were always fucking great.

And here was one.

His hand disentangled itself from Eliza’s wild nest of hair and went roaming, searching through the soft moss until his long fingers closed around what was, by some stroke of luck, the biggest and most colourful maybe in the whole cavern, a beautiful array of sunset oranges and yellows. It somehow looked even more beautiful once he’d deftly woven it into Eliza’s hair, just behind her ear, once she was smiling so brightly it somehow matched the flower.

“Look,” he murmured in a raspy voice as they lay side by side on their backs, “You can see the stars.”

And sure enough, there were snatches of star studded fabric visible through the gaps and holes in the low ceiling, just a little but it was more than enough for them.

Eliza rested against his side, unable to believe how sweet this moment was.

It was true that nothing was perfect.

But some things came so, so close.

#hamliza #treasure hunter au #LOOK HOW TALENTED MY FRIEND IS #my friends are the best #love you jackie #<3

[sugawithtae-blog]

Youth | Pt. 3

Hey hey hey I’m back!! These parts are coming out really fast basically because I’ve already written them but changed a few things in the plot and made the writing better (from my old blog). But once I reach the end of what I’ve already written, updates might get a little slower just because it’ll be my first time actually writing them. Just a heads up! ALSO!! LOTS OF YOONGI IN THIS ONE!! :) - Hana

Focus: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k+

Genre: Fluff, Angst, College!au, Gang!au

Summary: A gang of delinquents go to your university. After your first encounter, things have been a crazy ride.

Warnings: Light alcohol and drug mentions, swearing.

Trailer | Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 |

Your footsteps gradually became quicker, your heart telling you to get the fuck out of there. It felt like a miracle once you spotted the fence that you had climbed over before. You hurriedly ran over to it and started climbing, but froze when you heard the sound of distant footsteps coming closer. Not wasting any more time, you jumped over the fence, landing on two wobbly feet.

You scanned the area. The street was dark, except for a few lights that lit up the dark concrete and the shadows of old buildings.

Where the hell am I?

You couldn’t believe you’d never seen this place before. And you couldn’t exactly remember how you got there, since you’d just blindly followed Taehyung in your rush of panic. You groaned, frustrated beyond belief.

A certain memory came to mind when you thought long and hard. You remembered a certain pizza place that you’d passed on the corner of the street, the shop covered in neon signs. Your eyes scanned along the road some more, and much to your relief, you saw it.

That’s the street I have to turn into.

You see, you would’ve used your phone to figure out where you were, but you’d lost it two days ago. I know right, who loses their fucking phone?

You were too afraid to tell your parents that you’d done so.

As you walked down the street, your heart filled with slight hope, a tight grip grabbed onto your left shoulder. You gasped, jumping back while spinning around to face the person. It was a man, probably in his 50s, wearing black clothing with a grey beanie on his head. His face was hard to see, but you knew he wasn’t friendly. A terrible stench wafted through your nose and you held your breath. Your heart was racing with fear.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty lady?” Your body was frozen. Was this the person who was following you?

Chills ran down your spine as his hand reached out to you. You screamed, “Get away from me!” and then made a run for it.

You turned the corner of the street quickly, not slowing down your speed once. A pained groan echoed behind you, but you didn’t dare look back. The sound of running footsteps was approaching fast behind you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A hand reached out to grasp your shoulder once again and pulled you back.

“Get off! Let go of me!” You swatted your hands, trying to push their grip off of you. Tears threatened to leak from your eyes, but you didn’t want to appear weak.

You were about to scream bloody murder, to try and get somebody’s attention, when a hand reached up and covered your mouth. You looked up with terrified eyes to see your attacker.

It was Yoongi, of course.

Oh. OH.

Wait, what?

“Shut up! Don’t scream, or I swear-”

You cut him off, “Don’t scream?! Yeah, sure! It’s not like I was being attacked just now on the side of the street-”

He reciprocated by covering your mouth with his cold hand again. He suddenly began to chuckle. Something you had never even imagined he was capable of doing. “Okay, maybe my methods were a little dark. But, gosh, you’re such a stupid girl.”

Your blood boiled when he said that. You snatched his hand off your mouth and balled up your fists.

“I thought you were a bloody murderer! Why are you even here?!”

“Agh, keep your voice down. There aren’t good people around here,” he said stepping closer to you while appearing to look around for any signs of trouble.

“Answer the question!”

He groaned in annoyance and said, “As if it wasn’t obvious already. I’m making sure you get home safe.”

You gaped at him. Min Yoongi was making sure you got home safe? At first you were confused, and then it hit you.

“You! You were the one following me, weren’t you?”

He scratched the back of his head, almost in embarrassment. Min Yoongi? Embarrassed? Impossible.

“I figured you had noticed after you started walking faster.”

“But, why?” You questioned.

“Why, what?”

“Why are you making sure I get home safe? Why bother to go through the trouble? I don’t need your protection.” Immediately after you said that, you flushed, thinking back to what had just happened near the pizza place. You thought he probably saw that too.

Yoongi scoffed. “Alright then, forget I said that. I’ll let you go home by yourself then.”

“No, wait!” you grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. He looked down at your grip and then looked back up at you with a slight frown, so you hastily let go.

“Um… sorry. Thank you for um…” you blushed. You weren’t good at this kind of stuff. You didn’t think Yoongi was either, since he cut you off.

“Whatever. Don’t get any ideas, though. I only did it because V and Jimin wouldn’t shut up.”

Gee, thanks.

An awkward air began to surround the two of you until he finally broke the silence. “So, where do you live?”

You looked up at him and sighed. You weren’t exactly keen to tell him where you lived, but you also didn’t want to walk alone. Not after what just happened. Speaking of…

“Wait, before that. What happened to the old creepy guy back there?”

Yoongi looked down, avoiding your gaze. You noticed he moved his hand behind his back, and immediately you knew. He hit him. He didn’t look like he wanted to say anything though, so you told him, “Never mind. Let’s just go. I want to forget it happened anyway.”

He nodded. You told him where you lived and together the two of you started to walk, keeping your distance from each other. You started to wonder about him. He seemed so shut out from the world, always quiet and blank. He seemed to bottle everything in and acted like he didn’t give a damn about anything. But that wasn’t possible. He had to care for something. It surprised you still that he was even walking you home. Why would he? You kept stealing small glances at him, trying to figure him out. But he just looked straight ahead, not giving away a single bit of emotion.

That was until you went to look at him again, and he was already staring at you. Your heart froze in your chest. Well shit, I’m caught.

Trying to play it cool, you said, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Actually, you do.” Oh.

You reached up to touch your cheek, searching for whatever it was. He tutted, waving your hand away to reach up to your face. He held the tip of your chin with his forefingers, using his thumb to slowly and gently wipe the stuff off, being so close to touching your bottom lip.

“Paint.”

You looked down, blushing furiously. From the corner of your eye, you swore you saw him smirk at you. You mumbled a small thanks, but didn’t dare look up, and continued to walk.

Turning into your street finally, you sped up your pace, approaching your house. However, you saw something that stopped you dead in your tracks. Your eyes widened.

Shit.

The police was parked in your driveway.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Suddenly, you were terrified. Never in your life had you been more freaked out. If anyone were to tell you that one day you would come home to the police knocking on your front door, you would’ve laughed in their face. Now, this was really happening and you didn’t know what to do.

You were never the type to get into trouble like this. The most rebellious thing you’d done in your life was stealing some coins from your father’s jeans pocket. Your life was always monotone, nothing remotely exciting ever happening.

Your heart was racing and your head started to spin. You turned to face Yoongi, trying to control your breathing. Yoongi frowned, his eyes finding the police car parked in front of your house.

Your legs started to shake and you felt as if you were about to pass out. This was actually happening. You were exhausted. Your parents would definitely disown you. You could go to jail. How could I be so stupid? You were a complete wreck.

“Y/N… Hey, are you… okay?”

Okay? Were you okay? You had committed a crime. Why was he asking you if you were okay? Why was the ground moving? Why did your head suddenly feel so heavy? Black spots. No air. Am I flying?

No. I’m falling.

There was a rush of air around you. Your eyes fell shut, and the last thing you saw was a blurry patch of mint green.

//

Min Yoongi was not a very sociable guy. Besides his six friends, who were more like brothers, he didn’t find himself talking to a lot of people. He sometimes found himself feeling awfully empty and alone. His childhood was rough and unpleasant to even think about. Sometimes, he’d have dreams, and he’d wake up to find himself with tear covered pillows.

It was no wonder he put up a blank front when he was in public. He couldn’t let anyone else know about him.

Besides causing trouble and getting into mischief, he kept to himself. His friends were the only ones he could talk to, but even then he sometimes found it difficult to speak up. He was terrible voicing his problems and feelings, so instead he wrote them inside a journal in the form of poems.

The moment you started to fall, Yoongi, without thinking, reached out under your shoulders to prevent you crashing on the ground with your face. It was then when he started to think twice about walking you home. Why couldn’t he of just forced V or Jimin to walk you home? Nevertheless, he was now in a sticky situation that he wasn’t sure how to deal with.

Well this is a first.

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and he sighed. Your hair covered half of your face, so Yoongi carefully stretched out his hand from behind to move it out of the way. His hand froze midway once he realised what he was doing.

“Yah, get up. Come on, wake up, pabo.” He puffed out a breath, waving the ends of his hair out of his eyes. He wasn’t exactly in a comfortable position as he was tensing his back in order to hold you up. He needed to get you inside. In one movement, he grabbed you from underneath your legs and lifted you up. Yoongi wasn’t a typically buff guy, too lazy to work out, unlike Jimin and Jungkook, yet he found you easy to carry. He looked down at you, observing your facial features for a moment. Your hair was a mess and overall, you looked exhausted. He smirked, thinking about how freaked you looked before you passed out. You were clearly new to all of this.

The truth was, he knew who you were. He had first noticed you when you sat in one of the study rooms, frantically finishing an assignment. Your eyes had bags under them and you looked like a mess. Yet, he was amused at this. After that, he’d see you in class and around campus, always having your head in a book and constantly writing things. You always worked while listening to music from an old iPod. He’d grown to notice this after finding himself constantly looking over at you. He wouldn’t call this a crush, (and god, he hated the idea of it being one) but it just fascinated him. You were so dedicated to what you did, and he wondered how and why.

He walked to your front door and rung the doorbell. Your mother was the one who answered and her expression immediately changed from one of confusion to complete horror as she saw you unconscious. She quickly ushered you both in and the two police men came into view.

Your mother lead Yoongi into the living room, and he placed you gently onto the couch, making sure your head was on the pillow.

Turns out, the police were at your house because you were out late and your parents couldn’t contact you. At this Yoongi thought, Gosh, does this girl ever go out?

They asked Yoongi questions, to which he answered with a smooth and easy explanation.

“She’s in one of my classes. We had a group assignment to finish up, and she passed out from exhaustion.” The last bit wasn’t a complete lie, anyway.

Yoongi knew you’d be fine, but it was himself that he was worried about. The amount of damage he’d done to his reputation… the police were bound to question him further. However, for some reason, they only nodded and left without a single interrogation. They didn’t even look suspicious. Must be new on the job. Yoongi breathed a sigh of relief. 

His eyes moved and he caught your father staring at him. He was judging him by his appearance, and Yoongi got the impression that he was definitely not impressed. Yoongi returned to his blank expression that he wore so often. Your father then lead him outside.

Once outside, your father turned to Yoongi with a stern expression. “I know I’m probably supposed to be thankful to you for taking care of my daughter-”

“Probably,” Yoongi interrupted, already know where this was going.

Your father paused. “But I don’t believe, for a second, this made-up story. So why don’t you tell the truth?”

Yoongi thought for a moment. By the look of your father, he was very strict. And Yoongi did not appreciate the way he was looking at him. So he lied again and said, "But I am telling the truth, sir.” Just not a whole lot of the truth.

“You don’t look like a college kid.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand,” but he understood fully. “What do I look like then?”

“Like someone who doesn’t give a damn about their parents, and someone who doesn’t give a damn about his own life.”

More like it’s the other way round.

Yoongi didn’t respond.

“I would much prefer if you stayed away from my daughter. She doesn’t need distractions and you may certainly be one.”

“I don’t care much for her anyway, sir. I only met her recently. She just happened to be in trouble and I just happened to be the one helping her.”

“Then I better hope to never see you again.”

Yoongi nodded and turned to leave. He couldn’t stand the tense conversation any longer. It had been the first time he’d spoken to another girl’s parents before and he didn’t think he liked your father calling him a distraction.

He shrugged it off anyway, pretending it didn’t bother him.

//

When you opened your eyes, it was dark. However, the bed felt familiar, and you realised you were in your bedroom. You turned to look at the clock, and saw that it was 2:33am. The house was eerily silent. 

You got out from the covers to see that you were still wearing your jeans and jumper. You moved to your closet, changing into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Catching yourself in the mirror, you cringed at the sight of yourself, and snatched your hairbrush from the table. You quickly took out every single knot. Making your way to the door, you opened it slightly to take a peak outside. The hallway lights were out and there wasn’t much you could see. Closing the door, you made your way into your personal bathroom to brush your teeth.

As you did, you recalled thoughts of yesterday evening, trying to piece it all together again.

Yoongi walked you home. There was a police car. You fell. You fainted.

Oh, God.

You bit your lip, looking at yourself in the mirror, and shook your head in embarrassment. You fainted! In front of Yoongi! You felt pathetic!

Why? Out of all people!

But then you stopped. Wait, what does it matter if it was him?

Because he’s hot, duh, another voice said in your head.

Your cheeks flushed. No! No, he’s not! Why are you so embarrasing, Y/N?

You continued to roughly brush your teeth. You were frustrated. Why did this have to happen to me?

All of a sudden, you found yourself smiling. Gosh, maybe you were crazy, He was nothing but problematic, a nuisance. Just like the rest of them.

Unique. Interesting. Different.

You lay your head back on your pillow after cleaning up, not worried at all for what you might face tomorrow. I’ll deal with everything in the morning.

That night, you let yourself think about the strange boy who caught you when you fell.

Pt. 4 [ coming soon ]

#bts #bts fic #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #bts series #gang au #college au #bts smut #suga smut #jimin #jhope #rap monster #jungkook #jin #v #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #taehyung #bts fluff #bts angst #kpop #bts one shot #bts imagine

[wwesmutdonedirtcheap]

Baby Steps

Third Chapter in my Something For You Adam Series, in which Adam has to come to terms with being a father and a husband.

The rest of my Something For You Series can be found on my Master List

Fluffy/Angsty with one smutty scene.

@blondekel77 @wweismyguiltypleasure

@lavitabella87

@writergrrrl29

@charlitflair @lip-sync @emmarablack @lunaticfringe216 @amberhere-hi @thatonegirloncealways @queenreignsempire @debeauxmots @kittencutie245 @ilovesamizaynn @banrioncethlenn @screamersdontdance @redalternativefirefly @filthy-parade @welshwitch5 @nickysmum1909 @msgem @uberduber-loulou @cutester  @harleyquinnnikki @lclb12 @imagines–assemble @wrasslin-rollins @xenofi  @daywalker666 @heilisk @racheo91 @lilmisscrisis  @alexispoo

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@50-shades-of-roman-reigns   @sarahmatthews7     @hiitsmecharlie

@tooweirdforlifex  @covergirlcollarbones  @valeonmars  @daintymissdevitt

@dolph-wwe   @pjanina13   @enzoshair   @emmarablack @legitlunatic

@ashleymarie2021 @fangirltrash-25  @phlebotomyprincess1  @devittslegos

@avixenwrites     @iloveenzoamore     @theitscammy     @thatonegirloncealways     @finnbalorsbabygirl     @lavitabella87   @thedeboniardevistation   @fmlallthewayup    @itsjustemillly  @karaboomhower   @msgem  @iceninekiller-blog-blog    @littledeadrottinghood

Life had been even crazier since Adam found out about the baby.

I had insisted on staying behind, keeping my job and my crappy little apartment while he went on his American tours. He came back as often as possible, but not often enough for either one of our liking.

During his last trip home, things got even more crazy. Apparently Adam, or I suspected Nick, had been checking out properties in his down time. We looked at three houses before I fell in love with one. I never dreamed that we would actually buy a home. The minute my eyes fell on the great foyer and the huge living room, I was besotted with it all.

“Is this the one?” Adam walked up behind me, his hands creeping around my waist and resting on my stomach.

“One what?” I mumbled, my eyes still taking everything in.

“Do you want this house?” he whispered against the side of my neck, just below my ear.

“Are you serious?” I laughed, my hands moving to cover his.

“Is this the house you want our kid to grow up in?” his fingers pressed lightly into my belly.

I felt butterflies in my stomach and smiled. Approval from he or she.

I turned around, my hands gripping the loose t-shirt he was wearing.

“What do you think?”

“If I was a kid, I’d like it,” he grinned at me.

That was that. Within a few weeks, we were the proud owners of a four bedroom, three and a half bath, with a huge backyard.

And within days, he was back on the road again.

The house felt so lonely, so big and cold without him.

My parents and brothers helped move everything in after Adam was gone.

It was all a lot to comprehend for them too. Their daughter and sister, getting knocked up by some guy they had never met. My dad and my older brother were the worst. They would barely even look at Adam the few times he had been around and my brother kept asking me if I was being forced into doing everything.

It was better when they stayed away, even if it meant too much time alone. Too much time to sit and think, to ponder what was happening on the road. Things like how many drinks the club had kicked back that night, who Adam was rooming with, what kind of girls were walking up to him at the shows.

As my stomach grew every day, my confidence dropped. I had never felt insecure about my body but now, it was a constant inner battle. I knew I needed to get a grip on it. I was only four months, things were going to get dramatically different.

I finally did it.

I broke down and bought my first maternity clothes. I had tried desperately to keep myself in my regular outfits. I couldn’t do it any longer. My pants fit just a little too snug and my shirts clung to me in the all the wrong places.

I had purchased one dress amongst the sea of jeans and tops. It was a dark violet color with an empire waist that was supposed to quote ‘accentuate my ever growing curves’. Basically that meant, hide your fat and make it obvious that you were pregnant.

“I got the number of the guy to paint the kitchen,” Adam came into the bedroom.

He only had on his jeans, his shirt discarded probably downstairs in the gym he was putting together.

“Good,” I nodded, running my hands over my stomach as I stood in front of the mirror in my dress.

“That looks nice,” he smiled, closing the distance between us to stand behind me.

“Don’t lie,” I sighed “I can take the truth.”

“It does,” he rested his chin on my shoulder, while we both stared at our reflections.

“Adam,” I groaned “I look huge already.”

“Stop that shit,” he let go of me and started rummaging through his pocket for the phone number he had written down.

He started rambling on about paint colors and time slots but I stopped listening. I kept running my hand over my stomach.

“Hey, you hearing me?” he finally caught me.

“Yeah,” I lied, turning to him “I have to pick a paint color in the next two days.”

“Yeah, cause I wanna help oversee it and I gotta go back on the road Friday,” he twisted his hair up off his neck.

“Friday,” I groaned, walking closer to him.

His eyes dropped and he let out a heavy sigh.

“You agreed…”

“I know,” I sank down onto our california king and wrapped the comforter around me.

He sat down beside me and ran his hands over his face.

“I know this is a lot,” he looked over at me “The house and the baby and me being gone all the time.”

“It really is,” I breathed out in a frustrated laugh “It’s a lot to process.”

“What about me?” he grew slightly defensive “I got a kid on the way, a mortgage…”

“And it’s not what you pictured all those months ago,” I finished for him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he turned to face me “I’m just saying it’s a big change for both of us.”

“And tomorrow we find out,” I chewed on my lower lip.

I had made the appointment to find out the sex of the baby while Adam was in town. I wouldn’t dream of doing that without him.

“What do you want?” he raised an eyebrow.

Surprisingly, we had yet to have this conversation.

“A girl,” I admitted “But I know you want a boy.”

“Yeah,” his mouth curled up in a grin “A boy would be nice.”

“But if it’s a girl…”

“She’ll be spoiled rotten,” he finished, standing to his feet “I gotta go call this guy.”

I nodded and stood too, drawing his warm half-naked body against mine. His hands lightly roamed down my back, soothingly.

“It’ll be all right, sweetheart,” he whispered.

But I knew he was as unsure as I was in that moment.

Adam was extremely uncomfortable in the doctor’s office. I sat up on the table, in my little gown, ready for inspection. He cowered in the corner, his arms crossed and his thumb dancing across his lower lip.

“You ok?” I glanced over at him, as we waited on the technician.

“Yeah,” he dropped his hand and licked his lip a few times “I’m good.”

I didn’t argue with him.

“Ok,” Jessica, the technician, came into the room “We ready?”

She had done my first ultra sound and I really liked her.

“Yes,” I scooted up on the table a little “More than.”

“Is this dad?” she turned to Adam, still shrinking in the corner.

“Adam,” he walked toward her nervously.

“Nice to meet you,” she smiled “I’m glad you could be here for this.”

He looked annoyed and slid onto the stool next to the table. He didn’t say a word as she prepped everything and as she started sliding the probe across my stomach, I swear I saw him flinch.

“Ok, what do you guys want?” she asked absently, pressing a little harder onto my stomach.

“Boy,” Adam answered immediately.

“Well,” she stared at the screen “How about a girl?”

I felt his hand grip my arm that was lying by my side. He looked beyond terrified now.

“A girl,” I smiled, trying my best to ignore his less than happy reaction.

“Mhm,” she looked up at me “Is that what you wanted?”

I nodded quietly.

“You ok with that, dad?” she looked over at Adam.

He managed a nod but his brow was already creased and his thumb had went back to playing with his lip.

She cleaned my stomach off and printed a few pictures for us.

“Doctor will be in shortly,” she smiled at me before she left the room.

“You’re mad,” I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

“What?” he looked up from the trance he had been in “No, no I’m not mad.”

“But…” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What am I supposed to do with a girl?” he looked clearly bewildered “Boys I can do…But a girl.”

“It will be fine,” I smiled, trying to reach for his hand but he did nothing to try to close the gap.

“Yeah,” he stood up, starting to pace “Yeah, I know it will.”

“Try to be a little happy,” I felt tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes.

“I am,” he noticed, walking over and running his hand over the top of my head “I am, sweetheart. I swear.”

Liar.

The drive home was more than quiet. It was deafening. I stared at the pictures over and over again. Our little girl. It was amazing to know she was inside of me. Suddenly, that bump that I was so disgusted with earlier didn’t seem so bad.

I texted my family, avoiding any more uncomfortable conversations, letting them know. My mother texted back overjoyed, nobody else responded right away.

Adam’s eyes stayed glued to the road all the way until we pulled into our driveway. I climbed out and followed him inside, nervously playing with the hem of the violet dress I had decided to wear. Silly me, thinking this would be some big occasion.

He went straight to the kitchen and pulled a beer out, snapping the cap off and tossing it onto our marble countertop.

I laid the papers and pictures down on the kitchen island, and turned to go upstairs.

I felt the warmth of his tight hand gripping me and turning me around against him. He looked down at me, a few pieces of hair falling from his bun.

“You ok?” he whispered, his thumb tracing my cheek.

“I’m fine,” I heard the anger in my voice.

“I just need a little time,” he shook his head slowly “Knowing you’re having a kid and seeing the kid on a screen are two different things.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. He had been really excited when he found out two months ago, now he looked the absolute opposite.

“Adam,” I chewed on my lip nervously “If you’ve changed your mind…”

“Hey,” his grip on my face tightened “Hey, don’t talk like that, ok? I told you, I’m all in for this. You and me.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure he even believed what he was saying at this point.

“You wanna go upstairs?” he pressed his lips against my neck, his tongue sliding down and then back up to my earlobe.

“Now?” I gasped, my hands trailing down his chest.

“Mhm,” he breathed against my ear, his hand wandering up my leg underneath my dress.

“Adam…”

“We need to relieve some of this tension,” he looked back into my eyes “I need to.”

We had been having sex regularly when he came home but the last few times I had been hesitant with my changing body. I just couldn’t get used to it.

“You really want me, like this?” I stared up at him, my eyes wide.

“Why wouldn’t I?” a smile curved on his lips “I think it’s kinda sexy.”

I blushed, not knowing whether or not to believe him.

His arms picked me up, hooking one under my knees and carried me toward the staircase. I nestled my head into the crook of his neck and listened to his heartbeat quicken.

Once we reached the bedroom, he laid me gently on the bed and stripped his shirt off. My eager fingers reached out to glide along his abs as he hovered over me.

“I miss you,” I admitted sheepishly.

“You have no idea,” he lowered his lips just above mine “How much I miss you every single night.”

He finally kissed me, his tongue slinking inside my mouth and colliding with my all to eager one. Little gasps escaped me with every parting of our lips and he moaned back in reply.

Adam raised up, his fingers wiggling my underwear off my ever widening hips.

“Can I leave my dress on?” I whispered, when he leaned down to kiss me again.

“Baby,” he sighed, his hands sliding up underneath it “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

I nodded slowly and sat up, allowing him to pull it over my head. The only good thing to come of all this, was my breasts had grown larger already. That was something I knew he didn’t mind at all. He danced his tongue across the part of them that wasn’t inside the cups of my bra and I gripped my fingers in his hair.

He moved down slowly, planting kisses down the middle of my body. I fidgeted, uncomfortable for a few seconds, as he grew closer to my stomach. When he reached it, he looked up at me as he kissed all around the little bump there.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against my skin.

I brought his head back up and pressed my forehead into his.

“I’m scared too,” I whispered.

He raised his lips to my forehead and then leaned back on his knees, straddling me. He unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his boxers off his lean hips.

Adam ran his hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face as he held his weight over me on his strong arms. He slowly pushed himself inside me and I moaned, feeling my toes curl into the mattress.

He had been home two days but both of us had been so distracted, this was the first time we had been intimate. I had missed him inside me, around me, looking straight into my soul with those piercing eyes.

He bucked his hips slowly against me, treading lightly, cautiously. His mouth, bent down to tug at my bra, signaling he wanted it off. I raised up and removed it, dropping it beside me.

His tongue sailed over each of my breasts, as he let out groans of enjoyment.

“You like them, huh?” I panted, my chest much more sensitive than ever.

“Mhm,” he looked up at me, his mouth nibbling at the curve of my left breast.

I reached around and dug my fingers into the tight flesh of his ass, urging him into me harder. I felt him holding back.

“I can take it,” I whispered into his mouth when it found mine again.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled against my cheek.

“Please,” I panted, my body aching for him “Please, baby.”

He raised up and took hold of my hips. He closed his eyes, as if he was silently praying I didn’t break, and then picked up his pace. His hips slapped against mine, his breath quickened. I could see the veins that bulged in his arms whenever he was exerting himself.

I ran my tongue over my, now dry, lips and rolled my head back into the pillow.

“Adam,” I moaned, letting him know that I was enjoying it.

I tilted my head up to stare at him. For the first time since he came home, he looked like himself. There was no worry, no stress, no frustration on his face.

I felt his fingers dig deeper into my hips and his thrusts quickened to the point where I felt my orgasm building in my body.

“Don’t stop,” I managed to get out, hooking my legs around his waist.

He tilted his head down, his mouth lightly grazing over my throat and collarbone before he started pushing quicker.

“Shit,” I mumbled, as I felt myself contract around him.

In a matter of seconds, he groaned and the familiar warm feeling entered me.

“You ok?” was his immediate response.

I put my finger to his lips to hush him up and he smiled against it.

While Adam continued to work and travel, I stayed home with an ever growing belly and a house I wanted to look perfect.

I put all my energy into decorating. My mother proved to be a great help, as well as a few of my girlfriends. Slowly but surely the house was coming together.

The nursery was a different story. I desperately wanted Adam’s help with it but every time he came home, he never seemed to find the time.

When I was seven months, he came home from a three week trip.

After a late night workout, he came upstairs to find me sitting in the middle of the nursery floor. I had paint swatches laid out in a circle all around me and didn’t even notice him.

“What are you doing?” I heard him from behind.

“Someone has to get this room ready,” I sighed over my shoulder.

“I told you I would help you,” he walked further inside and squatted down beside me.

He ran his hands over the swatches, picking up a few.

“I want pink and grey,” I spoke without being asked.

He didn’t answer, he just started separating the colors into pairs.

“And I want to spell her name out above her crib.”

He nodded, still concentrating on the paint.

“Adam,” I whispered, pulling his chin toward me “She doesn’t have a name.”

He sat down then, running his hands over his track pants nervously.

“A name,” he laughed “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

A little part of me was offended. All right, more than a little.

“Seriously?” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Ok, a name,” he shifted to face me with his whole body “Let’s do this.”

“I like Rebekah,” I began “But spelled with a 'k’.”

“Ok,” he nodded “If you like that then…”

“No,” I rolled my eyes “That’s not how this works. You don’t just agree on the first name I mention. We have a conversation together about the names we like.”

“Ok, I’m sorry,” he sighed.

“What names do you like?”

He sat in silence, his eyes dancing all over the sad little room.

“Adam?”

“Olivia,” he finally spoke “My grandmother’s name.”

“I like that name,” I smiled softly and scooted closer to him.

“That’s it?” he smirked “You don’t come up with another name and we go back and forth all night?”

“No,” I shook my head “Olivia Rebekah sounds good to me.”

He nodded and grabbed up a set of grey and pink squares.

“These?”

I nodded my approval.

“I’ll call the painters tomorrow,” he stood up “I’ll get them to paint the guest room too while they’re here.”

“What about furniture?” I stood up with help from his extended hand “We still need a lot of furniture for her.”

“Just pick out what you like and I’ll set it up for you,” he rested his hands on his hips.

I nodded, even though I wanted him to help me decide.

“It’s called a push present,” Nick sat across from Adam at our dining room table.

“A what?” Adam laughed, tilting his beer bottle up to his lips.

“Yeah, you buy them something nice to thank them for going through hell having your kid,” he shrugged, raising his own beer.

I stood just outside the doorway listening. I knew I shouldn’t be doing it. Nick had come over to be with Adam, in private 'guy’ conversations. I just couldn’t help myself. I hoped I could read more into Adam’s attitude if I could hear what he said to his friend.

“There’s too many rules to this, man,” Adam ran the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Hey, it’s not as bad as you think,” Nick leaned forward toward him “Y/N is a great woman. I admit, I never thought I’d see you settle down but I’m glad it’s with her….You gotta stop being so scared, man. You’re fucking petrified right now. It’s all over your face.”

“Look at this,” Adam held his arms to his sides “Look at this house. I have a house with a nursery in it.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, no it’s not,” Adam leaned up on the table, his hands running down his face “I just, this isn’t what I’m good at. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Yeah you do,” Nick’s face grew serious “You know exactly what to do. You’ve never, not in the years I have known you, never looked at a woman the way you look at her. She didn’t make you buy a house, or make you raise a baby with her…That was your choice. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” Adam scoffed nervously.

“Because you want it. Deep down inside of you, you want all of this. So stop being such a fucking pussy and just take it. Be happy, man.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. Nick seemed sure of what Adam wanted. But did he?

“Where is he?” I whimpered, sitting up and feeling the contraction take over what felt like my whole body.

“He’s on his way, honey,” my mom ran her hand over my arm comfortingly.

“He shouldn’t have left you,” my brother huffed from his place in the corner “They say it could be any minute and that jackass jumps on a plane…”

“Shut up,” I growled through my pain “You’re not helping!”

“How about everybody go outside? Get some air, take a little break?” the nurse who was checking my vitals suggested.

“Yes,” I cut my eyes over at my brother “Please, get some air.”

They all trudged out, including my mom.

“Where is the father?” the nurse raised an eyebrow once they had all left.

“On a plane, but it should have landed…by now,” I groaned, as I fought through the contraction.

“I hope he hurries,” she sighed “This baby is coming soon.”

I laid my head back as the pain settled for a moment. I could feel my hair sticking to my forehead. I had never felt so gross in my life.

“Y/N!” I heard Adam’s voice as he came in the door and I let out a weak sigh of relief.

“Adam,” I gasped, as yet another pain took over.

“I’m going to get the doctor,” the nurse smiled “This baby is coming.”

“Adam, I’m scared,” I reached out and gripped his hand.

“It hurts bad, huh?” he looked at me with genuine concern.

“So bad,” I shook my head “I don’t think I can do this.”

The pain was unbearable, the thought of having to push Olivia out of my body was petrifying and something I had chose not to think about my entire pregnancy.

Adam looked a mess. His hair was lopsided on top of his head and he had on an old club t-shirt.

“I can’t,” I  shook my head again.

“You look at me,” he turned my face to look directly at his “You are the bravest, sexiest, most amazing woman I have ever met in my entire life. If anyone can do this, it’s you. You were willing to have this baby by yourself, without me, without anyone. You got more guts than most of the guys I work with, sweetheart.”

The contraction subsided and he ran his hand over my forehead, pushing back my hair that was still clinging to my face.

“I got you something,” he dug into the pocket of his jeans.

“You got me a push present?” I kidded with a laugh, as I tried to distract myself from the pain.

“More than that,” he opened the ring box he was holding “I got a question for you.”

“Adam,” I ran my finger over the beautiful diamond at the center.

“Olivia is gonna be here any minute,” he licked his lips nervously “We’re gonna have our baby, we got our house, sweetheart all I need is for you to be my wife.”

“Fuck,” I grunted, the strongest contraction yet taking over.

“Was that a yes?” he stood up, his hand running over my head again.

I nodded, despite the pain and stuck my ring finger out. He slid it up over my knuckle and lightly kissed it.

“Ok,” the doctor came into the room “We ready to have a baby?”

“Yes sir,” Adam smiled.

“She’s perfect,” I held her in my arms fifteen minutes later “I just can’t believe that we made her…She’s ours.”

Adam had yet to hold her. He had this look on his face of disbelief and I couldn’t really blame him. All the ultrasound pictures in the world couldn’t prepare you for coming face to face with your baby.

“Here,” I looked up at him “Hold her.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he shook his head “I don’t…”

“Adam,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He slowly reached out, his hands shaking as I placed our beautiful girl into his arms. He held her tight against him.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” he smiled down at me.

I nodded, readjusting the pillow behind my head.

“She gets it from her mom.”

“I don’t know…” I kidded “Her dad’s pretty hot.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me quickly on the lips.

I watched him with her for a few minutes. He was in love. His eyes had a light in them that I had never seen.

“You were really great dealing with me,” I whispered hoarsely “All the screaming and squeezing your hand.”

“Death grip,” he laughed “Seriously, we might could find a place for you in the business, if you’re interested.”

“No thanks,” I smiled over at Olivia “I’ve got more important things to do.”

He slid into the bed beside me, still holding our daughter in his now more steady arms.

“We’re gonna do this aren’t we?” he smiled.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean Mr. Cole,” I ran my hand along the side of his face.

“I would never do that to the future Mrs. Cole,” he whispered over our sleeping daughter “Especially in front of our child.”

“I never got to tell you, the ring is beautiful,” I held it up in the light.

“Nick went with me,” he admitted.

“Nick did good,” I kissed Adam’s cheek.

He licked the smile off his lips and looked down at Olivia again.

“How did I get so damn lucky?”

I cuddled closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder so I could look down at her too.

“It won’t be quiet for long,” I whispered “My mom said, her words, some guy named Kenny called and there was a lot of yelling in the back ground and something about sweet things.”

Adam laughed and kissed the top of my head.

“Olivia,” he looked down at our daughter “You’re in for a wild ride.”

#adam cole x reader #adam cole imagine #adam cole smut #adam cole angst #adam cole fluff #roh smut

[glitterrhowell]

Spirits In the Night

Title: Spirits In the Night

Series: Spooky week 2018

Pairing:  Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan

Word count: 3.2k

Warning/Genre: scary/Halloween/spooky’vlogging/ghosts/possible demon

Summary:

Phil decides to film a Halloween video with PJ and Sophie and an abandon hunted house and Dan is less than keen on going.

Read on Ao3

Read on Wattpad

This is part of a collection of eight stories I have written over the last few months for Autumn/Halloween. I am titling this series spooky week and will continue to update every day up until Halloween day!

A huge thank you to my other half Christy (Fadingcrystalvoid) for being with me since the start of the series listing to me rant and proofreading for me. Also for last minute betaing all these stories for me!

“Come on Dan it’s going to be fun!” Phil whined.

“Phil I told you that I didn’t want to go,” he sighed.

“But you have to go it's Halloween!” he pleaded. “Pj and Sophie will be there,” he added hoping it would get Dan to change his mind.

“Phi-”

“Plus you promised the fan’s a video. And it won’t be much of a video without you,” he reminded him.

Dan rolled his eyes, “Fiiine I’ll go, we’ll do it.”

“Yes!” Phil grinned pumping his fist in the air in victory.

Turning to Phil, “What time do we have to meet them there again?”

Phil glanced down at his phone, ”Shit we probably should have left already.”

“Really Phil?” he exclaimed as he frantically tried shoving his shoes on his feet.

“Well if somebody hadn’t of waited to the last minute to decide they were going it wouldn’t have been a probl-.”

Dan turned around and glared at him.

Not wanting to fight, Phil held his hands up in the air in defeat.

The house planned to “ghost hunt” was a fairly known place. For years there had been rumors of the awful things that had happened there. One of the main stories was that there was a family living there in the 60’s and one night the father had murdered the entire family including the family dog. The other main story people liked to tell about this place was that back in the 1900’s the place used to be a small mental hospital where the doctors performed unspeakable experiments and acts of torture on the patients that had resulted in several deaths. Of course, no one knew if either of these stories were true or not but that hasn't stopped people from sneaking into the house over the years trying to see if the ghosts were real.

And since the house was out in the middle of nowhere they had to rent a car instead of taking a cab. Because when Phil had called to set this all up the cab company outright refused to take them since it was so far out of town.

They have never been known for their punctuality but this was ridiculous, Dan thought as they drove in silence. They had promised a video with PJ and Sophie to the fans and he hoped they hadn’t left or started without them.  

Dan fidgeted in the passenger's seat of the rented car, too nervous to sit still. “Who’s idea was it to film a video in an abandoned haunted house again?”

Phil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, ”Hey you ok?” Dan nodded his head. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this.” Concern showed on his face. “The fans will understand.”

“No, I’m fine. Besides, they’ll never let us live this down if we don’t do it,” he chuckled, giving Phil a shaky smile. Phil reached over and placed one of his hands on Dan’s leg. Dan let out a little sigh of relief just feeling Phil’s hand made him feel safe and comforted.  

They pulled up to the big iron gates that sat a few hundred feet from the house. When Phil had talked to the owner of the property they had told him that they would have to walk up to the house from there. He had explained if he left the gate open it tended to draw in people who just wanted to come in and squat in it or vandalize the house.

Seeing PJ’s car still there made Phil sigh in relief knowing they were still there he just hoped they hadn’t started without them. Phil took ahold of Dan’s hand and they started walking up the dark winding path that leads up the house. The path was small and overrun with bushes and shrubs making it almost impossible to see.  

The house came into view as they rounded a tree Dan’s heart dropped in his chest. Why had he agreed to this? What idiots went to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere on Halloween night of all nights. Plus it was a fucking full moon to boot.

Phil took out his iPhone and started to record himself.

“Hey, guys! So after a long drive, we are finally here! Who’s excited to see some spooky things?” He then turned the phone to record the exterior of the house. The house was huge, dingy, and the grey paint flaked on the outside, the window panes were smeared with age and dirt and its brickwork was crumbling away. And like the path leading to the house, the path going up to the door was also overgrown with bushes and brambles.

“So Dan are you ready to see some ghosts?” Phil joked as he panned the camera over to him. He couldn’t see his own face at the moment but if he had to guess he probably looked terrified. He tried as hard as he could to plaster on his video persona, “So yeah here we are. Uhh, so we're going to try and catch something spooky and fun for you guys.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “So yeah here we go, and I guess if this video never gets put up then that means we died,” he chuckled, being slightly serious about the dying part.

Phil turned the phone back to himself and said a few more things about the history and the supposed stories of the house before he hit the stop record button.

Seeing he wasn’t recording anymore Dan grabbed Phil’s hand “Phil I don’t know about this,” he said, expressing his uncertainty.

Phil chuckled,” Come on it isn’t so bad.” Dan looked back at the house. Yep, still as bad as it had been a minute ago.

“Oh look there’s PJ and Sophie.” He waved over to their friends who had just walked from around the house.

“We thought we heard talking.” Sophie smiled brightly at them.

“Yeah, we just got here,” Phil said as he pulled Dan’s shivering body closer to him.

“Hey, guys we weren't sure if you were coming or not.” Their friend’s jogged over to them.

“Sorry uh, we lost track of time,” Phil explained.

Dan squeezed Phil’s hand letting him know that he was grateful he hadn’t mentioned how he had been scared.

“We were just recording the back of the place anyway, we didn’t want to start without you guys,” PJ said pulling his camera out of his bag.

Turning it on he pointed it and him and Phil, “Look how it is guys! Dan and Phil have offered to come on this crazy adventure with us! So are you guys ready?” PJ grinned despite the camera not being able to see it.

Phil smiled, ”You ready?” he asked, turning to Dan.

Trying his best to sound neutral,” Umm yep. Let’s go find some ghostussy,” he nervously jokes.

Everyone chuckled at his joke, Phil made some joke to the camera in PJ’s hand about Dan needing to be stopped.

Pulling his iPhone back out, Phil started to record as they made their way up the front steps of the house. Up to the rotting door that separated them from what laid inside the house. They all took a deep breath before Phil using the hand not holding his phone to pushed the heavy door open. The door creaked as it slowly swung open. That would be a great shot for the video Dan thought. Phil was the first one to go inside dragging Dan along with him. PJ and Sophie stumbled in after them.

Phil and PJ panned their cameras around to catch everyone’s initial reaction to everything.

A cool shudder trickled down his spine. He glanced around nervously. Cold, hesitant light streamed in through a cracked window, casting eerie shadows on the walls. What was left of the abandon furniture was covered in sheets that had once been white but are now brown with years of dust and grime that had settled on them.

“This is so cool,” PJ whispered to his camera.

Phil nodded his head in agreement, ”Oh look at those portraits on the wall. The people almost look like their looking right through you!” he took his iPhone and zoomed in on a creepy looking painting of a man in a suit and top hat.

Dan shivered again, “What’s that smell?” he asked in a small voice. It smelt like a combination of rotting wood and cigarette smoke.

His question went unanswered as Phil, PJ, and Sophie started exploring the first few rooms of the house. Pulling out his own iPhone to get his own footage he walked into what he assumed was as the dining room. In the middle of the room, there was a huge wooden table with a layer of dust covering it. He heard a rattle and looked up as a broken chandelier swayed in the draft. Trying to keep his wits, he showed the audience the swaying chandelier, “Looks like the ghost and ghouls are already performing for you guys.” Chuckling, he turned his attention to a small chest in the corner of the room, but just as he was about to open it and film what was inside he heard a scream.

“Shit!” Phil screamed from the adjoining room.

Shoving his phone in his pocket he sprinted through the walkway between the rooms, “Phil what’s wrong are you alright?”

Phil was clutching his chest breathing heavily, “Yeah I just thought I saw something move in the corner over there.” He pointed his phone towards a corner of the room, “Turns out the house isn’t as abandoned as we thought, there’s a family of rats living here,” he breathed out chuckling nervously.

Just then PJ and Sophie came running in the room, “What’s wrong?”

They quickly explained what had happened, Phil now chuckling at how much he had freaked out. But they ultimately decided that it would probably be best if they stayed together just because if something else did happen they didn’t want to scare someone else who might be on the other side of the house.

Once again both PJ and Phil pulled out their devices, recording as they walked through to the kitchen. Which was located in the back of the house.

Phil was showing the camera something on the counter when Dan stopped dead in his tracks, ”Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“What?” they all looked at him questioning.

“I swear I heard footsteps above us,” he pointed towards the ceiling.

“Come on Dan you're not being funny,” Sophie hissed, “Stop messing around.”

“I’m not trying to be, I know what I heard,” he defended himself.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” Phil said, walking up and giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

Dan glared at them, ”I know I heard something!” he insisted

PJ turned his camera on himself, “Well guys Dan thinks he heard something upstairs I say we should go investigate don’t you think?” he said giving a cheeky grin to the audience.  

“Yeah let’s go!” Sophie chimed in clearly excited.

Phil turned to him, “what do you think?”

He took a hold of Phil’s hand knowing it would have to be edited out later. “Let’s go,” he said, trying to sound brave.

Phil chuckled and turned the camera back on himself, “It’s settled lads we’re going upstairs to investigate!”

They explored the upstairs without hearing anything else. They had decided it would be alright if they split up as long as they stayed in pairs so he and Phil were currently in one of the bedrooms. While PJ and Sophie went to investigate another room on the floor.

The bedroom was just like the rest of the house: everything in it was coated in a layer of dust.

“Dan come over here!” he heard Phil say from across the room.

He walked over to see what Phil was looking at. He rolled his eyes at what Phil had written. His iconic signature with a smiley face as well as, ”Phan forever” right next to it.

“Defacing property now Lester. What would the fans think of innocent Phil now?” he giggled.

“Hey it’s not permanent so it doesn't count!”

Dan giggled again as he leaned in and gave Phil a soft kiss on the lips.

“Dannnn that’s just more editing,” Phil whined.

“And isn’t it just a coincidence you said you would do all the editing on this video Lester,” he grinned.

Phil huffed and accepted the second kiss Dan planted on his mouth.

A shiver curled through the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck.

“Hey, you alright?” Phil asked.

“I don’t know I just got a funny feeling all of a sudden.”

Phil looked at him concerned.

“Is it me or did it get really fucking cold in here?” he shivered violently.  

Phil started shrugging his jacket off. “Here you can have my jack-.”

When a loud crash interrupted him. Both of them jumped and screamed.

“What the fuck was that?” Dan asked as his heart ran a marathon inside his chest.

In his shaken state, Phil managed to answer, “Looks like the wind blew the door shut.”

“Phil are you really trying to me that was the fucking wind?!”

“What else could it hav-”

Phil’s face went white as he hissed in pain.

“Jesus Christ what happened?” Dan questioned him.

“I don’t know, I had a sudden pain in my back like something had burned me!” he screamed.

Phil finished taken his jacket off and lift his shirt up trying to see his own back. Finally admitting defeat he turned his back to Dan, “Do you see anything?”

Dan felt all the remaining blood drain from his face.

“Well do you see anything?” Phil huffed.

“You have three scratches on your back,” he whispered.

“What was that,” he now turned around to face him.

“I said you have three long scratches going across your back,” he said a little bit louder.

“What? This isn’t the time to be pulling jokes, Dan,” Phil scolded him.

Offended that Phil would think he was kidding he put his hands on the scratches, “You think I would lie about that.” he asked pressing just enough into scratches that he could feel them.

Phil hissed, ”Jesus Christ!” he yelled.

“I told you,” Dan said flatly.

“I think we should probably find the others and leave,” Phil said after a moment.

Dan just nodded his head in agreement.

As they were exiting the bedroom there was a loud crash behind them. Spinning around to see the window that certainly wasn’t broken a minute ago was no broken with shards of glass all over the floor.

Without a second thought, they turned back around and stumbled out of the room, “PJ! SOPHIE!” Phil yelled. There was no answer as they ran down the hallway to the other bedroom. They throw open every door on the floor and still couldn’t find either of their friends.

“I’ll be right back I think we forgot that room at the end of the hall,” Phil said pointing to the room.

Dan didn’t want to stay there by himself but it felt like he was wearing concrete shoes his feet wouldn’t listen to his brain.  

Once again Dan felt the temperature drop and out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark shadowy figure dart behind a door right next to him.

He screamed at the top of his lungs and fell to the floor sobbing. Phil came rushing back down the hallway,” Dan! Dan! Are you ok?”

He sobbed and shook his head. Phil enveloped him in a hug. “Shh, Shh it’s alright.” He tried soothing him by rubbing circles on his back.

Eventually, his sobs turned to whimpers, “Phil can we please go home now?” he pleaded.

“Of course, come on.” He helped Dan to his feet and wrapped his arm around his waist. With Phil’s help, they made their way down the creaky old staircase.

Once they made it safely back outside Dan buried his head in Phil’s chest. His salty tears now drying on Phil’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry Dan, it was my idea to do this,” he said guilt in his voice.

He snuggled himself closer to Phil, ”It’s alright Philly. Besides, I agreed that it would be an excellent video, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but you tried backing out at the last minute and I made you come.”

Dan cupped Phils face with his hand, “You didn’t make me do anything. Now come on let’s go.”

“Ok. Yeah, let’s see if PJ and Sophie went back to the cars.”

Dan shivered as they started making their way back down the winding path. “Here take this.” Phil said as he draped his jacket that he was carrying over Dan’s shoulders.”

“Thanks,” he said burying his nose into it and taking a whiff of comfort and Phil.

They could see before they reached the cars that both their friends had obviously abandoned them earlier as they were huddled together sitting on the hood of Phil's rental car.

“Where did you guys go? We looked all over for you,” Phil yelled angrily.

Shocked, PJ tried defending himself, “Sorry, Soph thought she saw something and got scared. We couldn’t find you guys so we figured you had come out to the car without telling us.”

“That’s no ex-”

He was cut off by Sophie, “I’m so sorry. It happened so fast and all I could think about was getting out of there,” she admitted. “Oh god Dan did something happen? You look shaken.” She wrapped her arms around him bringing him in for a hug. He stayed limp as she hugged him.

Phil grunted as he took hold of Dan’s arm, “Listen I’m sorry guys we can go over footage and stuff later. We’re both pretty shaken up and need to get home.”

They said goodbye to each other with the promise that sometime over the next few days they would get together and go over and footage that they had.

The ride home was as silent has it had been on the way there. Neither of them said anything until they were safely back in their apartment.

“Listen, Dan, I feel so bad,” Phil said rubbing the back of his neck.

He was a little more calmed down then he was before so he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Phil’s lips. Pulling back. “Phil I already told you it’s not your fault. That place was just creepy as hell,” he tried to smile. “I can’t explain anything that happened tonight, but I do know that none of it’s your fault.

Phil still didn’t look convinced but after a few minutes he spoke, “Do you want me to make some hot chocolate and maybe we could snuggle on the couch and watch a disney movie?” he asked hopefully.

He smiled, “Of course. Let’s go.”

A smile appeared on Phil’s face. He took Dan’s hand and lead the way up the kitchen to get their drinks.

“Remember you're still the one editing the footage,” Dan teased him.

Phil chuckled. Some weird things happened tonight but it would most certainly make for a great video.

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