#i'll re-open them again very soon just need to catch up

[reallyhardydraws]

thank you so much to everyone who's been supporting my bag store! you're all absolute stars, and have been helping me out so much as i try to drag myself across the minimum income threshold for self-employed in the UK. i'm almost there!

there's 4 drinks totes left, 3 fruit totes, 2 oranges totes and just 1 mushroom tote left at reallyhardy.store, plus as winter approaches and cold and flu season comes upon us i also have a few simple folded face masks on there too.

#as a life update i went to my jobcentre appt last week #and ugh what a drama. she was like 'well you had a good august' because i was working for the art gallery in the summer #but then she was like 'but we need to see consistency. you're halfway through the startup period but your average is still...' #'half of the minimum income' which. screaming and crying lol #because like well its freelancing. it's not GOING to be consistent really #but i think if i can do more markets and especially up to xmas #that should boost me a bit #plus i mean i just temporarily closed comms but #i'll re-open them again very soon just need to catch up

[fandomfluffandfuck]

hi!

im soooo happy you're unflagged now, slutty chris as your pfp was something i missed a lot when i opened tumblr haha 🫠

anywayy, i was wondering what tips you have for finishing WIPs? like, i have about 6 of them that are pretty long already but each time i open one i write about a paragraph and get unmotivated againn

i really wanna post this multichapter ive been working on since january (it's a dad's best friend trope, if you're wondering 👀) but im writing one last chapter and nothing will come to me :(

do you have any tips for getting motivated or just general things that help you stay focussed?

Hey!

Same! It felt like such a long time 😫 (I mean, it was almost three weeks, so it kinda was a long time, but you know what I'm getting at)

Your wip sounds super interesting. I'm sure they're all devine. Sending you all the ✨️motivation✨️

I don't know if I have tips as much as I can tell you what I do (or what I try to do, at least lol), but anyway, here goes--

I usually don't have more than one "actual" wip at one time, I obviously jot down ideas when they come to me, but I'm not writing multiple full-fledged fics at once. I'm writing a fic, and maybe I'm working on some writing for Tumblr at the same time. Other than that, I just don't. I'm VERY tempted at times, but I force myself to take it one at a time. Even when it might be painful, lol.

(And I'm aware that I'm very privileged to have a brain that works in such a way as to let me write like that.)

Plus, as weird as it sounds, I've found the more I write with a single wip at a time, the more moving onto the next idea I have becomes a reward in of itself.

As far as finishing what I'm working on currently, usually I start with an outline, literal jot dots, for what I want the fic to be. Obviously, it doesn't always follow what I first put down, but there's an outline at least. Then, I go back and fill in that outline where I know nothing is permanent. I literally write the full fic in jot dot form. It just might be missing bits and pieces. It's still in jot dots. After I finish through the whole outline--expanding the ideas into actual writing--I go back, and I go section by section, removing the jot dots while reading for things I might need to change, things I might want to add, etc. After I get through the whole thing that way, I re-read it as a normal piece of writing. Again, changing or adding or removing things or whatever as I go. Then, I usually run it through a program like Grammarly or some shit to catch stuff that I can't catch (thanks dyslexia). Finally, I copy and paste it into AO3, reading it one last time, in a different font.

My schedule for writing on the weekend (soon weekdays, too... almost hello summer 👀) is to write for an hour after I eat breakfast. I'm a morning person, I get up at 6:00 am, then I sit on the couch with my laptop and type for an hour. Usually like 7:00-8:00am. Then I'm done. I'll come back to it tomorrow. It's a routine that's been my routine for a couple of years now, so I don't even really think about it. I just do.

(Also, obviously, if I'm in the middle of a scene or something, I write down what I will need for later, but I have shit to do, so I have to stop.)

When I'm in the middle of writing and I get stuck, usually I scroll back up to what I've written earlier and do some rereading. Or I scroll down and freshen my memory of where I'm trying to take this thing. Then, I integrate back into what I'm trying to write, thinking about the feeling I want to create, what picture I want to paint, what the internal world of the character I am writing is like (what is their "voice"), etc. When words won't come, I think about things other than words--if that makes any sense, lol.

If that doesn't work, rereading, I might take a breather. I drink a lot of tea, so I might go make myself some tea, sometimes thinking about what I'm trying to write, sometimes not. Usually, I get a lot of ideas the second I set my laptop aside, lmao. Or it comes to me when I'm pacing, waiting for water to heat up. Usually, because I write for an hour, I feel pressure to write the whole time, but I don't have to. No one has to do anything. It's all good. Take a breath.

A breather.

I also always listen to music when I'm writing. Almost always music with words but not always the same genre; I'm not just listening to horny music or whatever when I'm writing, so if I'm stuck, I might swap to a new playlist. Maybe one that is intentionally matching for what I'm writing--a more sexual playlist for smut, a softer playlist for romance, an upsetting playlist for angst, etc. Or maybe one that clashes, that always shakes something loose in my brain.

(Listening to straight fucking screamo when writing an intimate, quiet, fragile scene is objectively hilarious, too, so I entertain myself.)

Usually, when I write in the morning, I don't have as much trouble with my dyslexia because I haven't exhausted myself reading and processing the bullshit that letters and numbers do all day, but if it's just a bad day for whatever reason... I might swap fonts and try to keep at it. Usually, I write in Verdana, but I might swap to Comic Sans or something for a while.

Or, if I'm stuck because of dyslexia or anything else, I might just stop for the day. As a perfectionist and workaholic and, just, someone who you could not pay to sit still and not do something, I'm trying to allow myself more times where I can just stop. A lot of the time, I push through, though. I tell myself 10 more minutes, then you're done. A tangible goal can be good.

What really motivates me is getting the fic out. Not even necessarily getting it out and publishing it to AO3 and seeing people's reactions to what I create, although that is undeniably an incredible thing to experience. I feel compelled to write. I like the process of writing. And because I've accidentally created this rule for myself where I have to finish one thing before the next, I have to get something out to start the next. Editing is the WORST, but I will do it to move on to the next. That's just my workaholic nature.

It'll probably kill me one day... it's not the best. As a consequence, I will readily admit I forget what I've written CONSTANTLY. I don't re-read what I write once it's finished. I move on to the next idea so fast that I forget what I did prior until other people bring it up. I'm propelled forward with very narrow vision. Again, it's not the best, and I should learn to stop and appreciate what I've done. It's hard, though.

Also, talking to people about your ideas is always a good way to go. I should do it more, too. I find myself being a very selfish creator. I create from this place of compulsion. I have to get it out. I don't know why, I just do. It's the way I am. And I create alone a lot. I'm an introvert and a highly independent person, I like to be alone, and I like to make things alone. So, it's easy to fall into the same pattern of being private and only showing off what I have when it's fully finished, complete with a sparkling varnish. But that doesn't have to be the way it is. Share bits and pieces, talk about what you're doing, let other people tell you you're doing it! You're doing a good job! They're excited to see the next update, no matter how small!

If you can't/don't want to share, though, a fun way to bounce ideas around is going, okay, I have to make a list of [whatever number, 20, 50, 100, etc.] ideas. They can be absolute fucking garbage, all of them, but I am going to list out as many as I possibly can. If none of them are good, great! They're no longer taking up space in my brain. They're on this list. If one or two are good, great! You can build on those or warp them to fit.

I hope some of that helped, lol. I just tried to explain the way my brain works, and it isn't pretty, lmao.

#whiteglovemanor #asks #writing tips #writing

[adatheromcomaddict]

How You Meet the Cullens + Jacob

Hi! I've decided I'm going to put some of my stuff from Wattpad, over here. If you want to see my Wattpad, its the same username as I have here. Anyway, this is how you meet the Cullens, + Jacob. Probably intended for female readers, but it could mostly go either way... I think. And I do have the girls as well in here.

Edward Cullen:

Edward and you met at school. Of course.

"Um, excuse me?" You asked a small girl, with short brown hair.

She turned around, revealing her pale white skin, and beautiful golden eyes.

"How can I help you?" She asked.

"I was wondering where Mr. Molina's classroom is?" You replied.

"Oh, yes. I can show you the way!" She grabbed your hand, and pulled you down the halls. (Wow, this is turning into an Alice preference)

"Thank you!" You said, when you two arrived at the classroom.

She pointed inside the room, towards a beautiful boy, with golden hair, and dark, dark, eyes. He glared at her, with his hand over his mouth. I turned to look at her, and she winked back at him.

"Uh, thank you. Oh, I never got your name." You said.

"Alice. Yours?" She asked, still smiling.

"Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, looks like you'll be sitting next to my brother, Edward, in there." She waved, and skipped away.

I walked inside the class, towards the boy, and sat down. He looked away, took a deep breath, then turned back to me.

"Hi, um, I'm Y/N. You're Edward, right?" I asked.

"Yes. I-I am." He seemed like he was in pain or something.

Weird.

Jacob Black:

I had lived in the outermost part of Forks for as long as I have lived. (Sounds like a wedding vow)

We were right next to the border of La Push. Therefore, I go to the school in the reservation.

(I have absolutely NO clue what the school is like there, so I'm making it up)

But, I didn't really talk to anyone. I had a few friends from down in the more central part of Forks, Bella Swan was one of them. She recently moved here full time. I hadn't seen her since I was little.

There was this one kid named Jacob who I had met a couple of times, mostly when he played with Bella snd I while our parents went fishing or whatever.

But, since Bella was going to school in Forks, I decided I would try and re-connect with this Jacob, to see if I could hang out with him.

So, I asked around one day at school for what classes he was in, and found out that he was in one of my classes. How did I never notice? Oh, just me and my oblivious self. (Sorry, if you're like- not oblivious?)

Well, I found him one day.

"Jacob, right?" I asked him.

"Oh, yes, oh, oh! Y/N! Hi!" He seemed to be a very nice boy.

"Yes, it's me. Um, I haven't talked to you in years, I'm surprised you remember my name." I explained.

"I'm surprised you remembered mine." He laughed.

"So, uh, I"m kind of wondering if you want to like, hang out or something. Anywhere works. I just need some company." (Bella who?)

"Sire! You could come by my house today after school and we can catch up. Do you like cars?" He asked.

"Depends." I laughed in response.

"Well, you can come help me too. I like to re-build them."

"Sounds like a plan."

Emmett Cullen:

(for this one you are a vampire already, and yes I basically stole Rosalie's life. Also, if I get facts wrong, don't come for me, just tell me *kindly* and I will fix it)

I became a vampire in 1920. Two years after my brother Edward, and one year before my mother Esme.

I'd been a vampire for 15 years already. How time flies

One day I was running through the forest when I heard screams coming from a small patch. I sprinted towards the place, and saw a boy, probably 20, getting attacked by a bear. I shoved the bear off of him instantly, and bit into it, getting it's blood.

I remembered that the boy was watching, and was probably shaken up, not to mention, he was most likely dying. I turned back towards him, wiping a small bit of blood off of my lip, and said,

"Hello, I'm Y/N Cullen."

"E-Emmet. How did you do that?" He asked, very weakly.

"I have my ways. What hurts?" I asked.

"Everything." Of course-

"I'll be right back. Don't move." Not that he really could. I sprinted back to my house. I opened the door, and Carlisle, Esme, and Edward turned towards me.

"Y/N? What is it?" Carlisle asked.

"There's a boy, Emmett. He got attacked by a bear. He's very weak. You need to turn him Carlisle."

They all sprinted into the woods, and I led them towards where Emmett lay. He was still there, but weaker.

Jasper Hale:

(you're a vampire)

Jasper became a vampire in 1863. (I think)

He was telling me his story.

I had recently been turned into a vampire by Carlisle, after he rescued me, and I hadn't really met the rest of the family yet. (You can make up why you had to become a vampire)

When Jasper had finished the story, I said, "Wow."

"That's all I could get out. His story was just, wow....

I forgot, Edward could read my mind. I only remembered when he chuckled after I thought that.

I gave him an internal glare.

Bella was sitting in the corner, with him.

"So, Y/N, tell us your full story." Jasper smiled.

(Sorry, his is kind of short..)

Carlisle Cullen:

It was my first day working at the Forks Hospital and I needed some directions.

I walked up to mid-height man, with blonde hair, and very pale skin.

"Hello, sir?" I asked him, and he spun around.

"Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?" He asked.

"H-how do you know my last name?" I asked in response.

"I heard someone talking about you coming, and you're the only new face around here. We don't get them often." He smiled, and my heart fluttered. Good thing he wasn't like a super-hearer or anything. {;)}

"Well, uhm, I was just wondering where the surgical ward is?" He pointed towards the left, and I smiled slightly, walking away, and quietly looking back at him after I was sure he couldn't see me.

Alice Cullen:

(You had already seen Alice before, but never interacted with her much, like most of the students)

I was walking around in the forest, when I heard footsteps.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Y/N!" A girl replied, I noticed it was Alice Cullen.

"Oh, hello, Alice." I was a bit confused to how she knew my name, but to be honest, I knew her's too and that's a bit strange. But, everyone does talk about the Cullens.

"What are you doing out here in the forest?" She asked me. I didn't have a valid answer. I could say "Just felt like taking a stroll..." or "Oh, I'm working on my steps." but, none of those were true, I really didn't know what I was doing here.

"Uhm, working on my steps, and taking a stroll....??" I questioned myself.

"Oookay then. Would you like to come with me? I can show you some of my favorite spots to relax." The way she said relax made me think she wasn't relaxing, and probably meant running around and exercising. Just what I needed.

"Sure, sounds great." I smiled.

Rosalie Hale:

Everyone that lives in Forks knows about the Cullens. Even the people in the reservation.

There's the three boys, the goofy one, the silent one, and the constipated one.

Then there's the two girls. Alice and Rosalie.

I've talked to Alice, we've said hi.

But in general, I know nothing about Rosalie.

All I know is she is incredibly smart, beautiful, and did I mention gorgeous?

I've never had the guts to talk to her. Maybe it's that I'm a wimp, or maybe it's that she is very intimidating. Probably a mixture of both.

But today, I got lucky, and didn't have to talk to her. She talked to me.

I had noticed her eyeing me a few times, and I never knew if she was looking down on me, in a bad way, or if she was interested in me. Both ways scared me.

Today, she came up to me.

I was sitting at the lunch table with Angela and Jessica, and the new kid, Bella.

"Y/N, can I talk to you really quick?" She asked.

"Uh, uh, yes, yes, sure." I stood up quickly, and while walking away with her, I turned towards Angela and Jess, and they smiled and winked.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Well, I wanted to know... did you want to hang out sometime?"

"Like, a date...?"

"Uh, yeah. Like a date." She smiled and we both laughed.

"Sure." I smiled back.

Bella Swan:

Apparently, today Chief Swan's daughter is moving to the school.

I'm looking forward to it, I want to make more friends.

I was standing outside, waiting to see if I spotted her, when a big, orange-red truck pulled into the parking lot.

It must be her! I've never seen that truck before.

I ran up to it, when I saw people laughing at it. Whatever, I think it's cool.

She climbed out of her truck, and I probably startled her, standing there.

"Hi! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. You're Chief Swan's daughter, right?" I asked.

"Uh, yes. Bella Swan." She stuck out her hand, and I shook it.

"So, do you want to know anything, anything special?" I asked.

"Um, I'm not sure...." She said, tucking her hair behind her ear. (Ugh, a classic Bella move)

"No worries. Let me show you to your first class." I smiled, and took her hand, pulling her down the hallway.

Esme Cullen:

I was walking around town, alone. A kind of dangerous move, since there have been so many mysterious attacks lately.

I was looking through random stores, when I noticed Esme Platt, (we're just saying she isn't a Cullen because I guess they aren't married...????) Carlisle Cullen's old friend. (I don't even know how to write this...)

"Hi, Esme." I said.

"Oh, hello, Y/N." She smiled.

"How have you been?" I haven't seen her in a while. We've talked a few times.

"I've been good, how have you been?" She replied.

"I'm great. We really should catch up sometime." I said, trying to be subtle.

"Yes, we should. Do you want to go to lunch tomorrow?" She asked.

"Of course! Where do you want to go?"

"Don't worry about me. I won't eat much anyway."

******

So, yeah, that's it. I'm aware that these aren't perfection, bur they were fun to write so, yeah!

I will be posting a lot more now since I'm getting really into writing again ;)

Thank you all for reading, (not that a ton of people are going to read this lol)

And yeah, see you soon! :3

-Ada

#twilight #twilight x reader #bella swan #edward cullen #alice cullen #rosalie hale #jasper hale #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #jacob black #the twilight saga #the cullens #bella swan x reader #edward cullen x reader #alice cullen x reader #rosalie hale x reader #jasper hale x reader #esme cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #jacob black x reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight preferences #my writing

[skzvibes]

So difficult.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers

warnings: nudity but not really? idk, let me know if I'm missing something

word count: 1,2K

description: basically you and Hyunjin are best friends and roommates. one night he catches you wearing one of his shirts and... let's just say that his reaction isn't what you were expecting

a/n: wrote this in 2019 and I just felt the need to re-write it. It's pretty different from what it was, hope you enjoy it 💜 Also yes, I was gonna write smut at the end but... idk I just didn't, maybe next time 😂

You sing along to the song you are listening to as you enjoy the last moments of your shower. At the same time, you can hear your roommate Hyunjin in the kitchen. When you arrived home 20 minutes ago, you found him in the kitchen, and he told you that he was cooking dinner tonight with a recipe that Felix gave him. You don't trust him one bit in the kitchen, but you are too tired from your long day to say anything. You basically spent the morning attending your classes and, after that, you went to the library to study for your finals, so you are physically and mentally exhausted. If he sets the kitchen on fire... Well, you'll deal with it later.

You turn off the water and get out of the shower. As you take your towel, you immediately notice that you forgot to bring clean clothes with you. You sigh as you look at the sweaty clothes you took off before taking your shower. There is no way you are putting them on again. You look around and see one of Hyunjin's shirts hanging on the door. Hyunjin hates ironing, so he hangs them in the bathroom once they are clean, and the humidity gets the wrinkles out. Apparently, it is an effective method.

"He's gonna kill me," you mutter to yourself, knowing what will happen if your best friend catches you wearing his clean shirt. However, you decide to take the risk. "He's busy in the kitchen anyway. He won't see me," you convince yourself as you take the shirt and put it on. After that, you gather your things and open the door. You walk to your room as quietly as possible, and you stop when you are next to the living room's door. From there, you can see Hyunjin still in the kitchen, facing away from you. You know you should keep walking, but you can't help staring for a few seconds more.

Hwang Hyunjin, your roommate and best friend, is attractive. You try to deny that reality most of the time, but it's in moments like this when you allow yourself to admire him without feeling guilty. Because falling for your best friend is a bad thing, and you know it can't go well. You never imagined this happening. Before living together, he was just Hyunjin, your best friend. But now? Now you know everything about him. You know what products he likes, what chores he hates doing, at what time he wakes up and goes to sleep, how his morning voice sounds... It's not your fault. It seems like he's doing it on purpose. How are you supposed to react when he's shirtless 90% of the time when you're at home? How are you not supposed to fall for him when he's always asking you to cuddle him and hugging you? Anyone would fall for him, so it's not your fault... Right?

You sigh and decide to keep walking and get to your room before he turns around and sees you. Once you're there, you close the door and go to your wardrobe to take clean clothes so you can get changed but, before you can do it, you hear the door of your room opening again, and you look at it holding your breath. You can't even react before your best friend walks into your room, looking at his phone.

"I give up cooking, is there anything you feel like-" Hyunjin stops talking as soon as he lifts his head and sees you, "or- ordering?" he finishes the question, stuttering. You feel his stare going from your naked legs, up to his shirt, the only thing covering your body, and finally your face.

He doesn't know if waking into your room right now was the best or the worst thing he could have done. It's difficult enough to act like he's not madly in love with his best friend daily, and now he has you half-naked in front of him. And what's covering half of your body is one of his shirts. As he looks at you, he wonders if the universe is testing him. He has always protected your friendship, knowing that what he felt for you could ruin it but, right now, Hyunjin doesn't know if he can do it anymore.

"Okay, listen, it's not what it looks like..." you say, bringing him back to reality.

"Oh, really?" he says, smirking. "Because it looks like you're wearing the clean shirt I hung up in the bathroom this morning." He continues after a pause.

"Fine, maybe it is what it looks like, but..." your voice trails off as you see him approaching you, "but..."

"But?" Hyunjin asks, taking a few steps more so he's right in front of you. He's taller than you, so you need to tilt your head back to look at him in the eyes now.

"I'll wash it for you, I swear. I just forgot to bring clean clothes to the bathroom," you try to excuse yourself, but Hyunjin shakes his head. You look at him, confused.

"I'm not angry about that," he says. "You just make it so difficult."

"What?" You ask, having no idea what he's talking about.

You really think this is about his shirt. He chuckles. How can you be one of the cleverest people he knows and still be so dense sometimes?

"You..." Hyunjin stops himself because he knows he won't be able to go back once he says what's on his mind. Does he want to risk your friendship like this? But he has noticed you looking at him before and, if you were anyone else, he probably would've taken the risk already. And he's tired of being a coward. "You make seeing you only as a friend so difficult." Hyunjin finally admits.

Your eyes widen when you hear him say that. Your mouth opens as you try to say something, but you don't know what, so you close it again and look at him. That doesn't seem to bother Hyunjin. He raises his hand and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek gently. You feel like it's your turn to make a move, and since you've never been very good at talking, you cup his face in your hands and kiss his lips briefly.

Hyunjin almost doesn't have time to react but, before you can back away, his fingers slip around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and he connects your lips again in a long kiss. He places his other hand on your waist as your hands move from his cheeks to his shoulders. You only pull away when you start to feel out of breath.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he whispers against your lips.

"Oh, I'm sure I do because I've probably waited longer," you answer, making him chuckle.

"You know I love proving you wrong, but I'm gonna let that one slide because right now I just wanna kiss you," he admits before leaning over and locking his lips with yours. You gladly kiss him back since, even though you didn't say it, you'd also rather kiss him than talk right now.

#hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #roommate au #best friend au #hyunjin best friend to lovers #stray kids best friends to lovers #skz #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin scenarios

[axolotlwithafork]

Mysterious Assassin

This story takes place two years after Tommy’s exile. It can be found in my Oneshots book on Wattpad.

Tubbo tapped his foot on the ground, not in a specific pattern, but randomly. He was nervous, today was the anniversary of the day Tommyinnit had been exiled, and he had been asked to speak.

His breathing got quick as he tapped his finger against his horns in tune with his foot. The horns were fairly new, actually, they had started growing after Tommy had been exiled, but they weren't too bad. Sure they reminded everyone of Schlatt, but Tubbo's horns were different. They were a shade lighter than Schlatt's and wasn't too far off from Tubbo's natural hair color. It was nice, they had taken away the need for a helmet and he didn't have to worry about hitting his head on anything. Tubbo chuckled, because in a way the horns reminded him of a simpler time, not a very peaceful time, but a simpler one.

Tubbo released a sigh and reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling up a small pack of cigarettes. He rarely actually smoked, heck this was his very first pack from about a year ago and he had only used three, but it helped with the stress. Since he didn't have any more time to go fishing, smoking had taken the place of pufferfish, due to them being a lot easier to carry around. Tubbo sighed once again as he lit the cigarette, before setting it onto his lips. Phil didn't like him smoking, but even he noticed the improvements that it brought with it. Tubbo didn't snap back as often, had a better time with his anger, and he was actually sleeping a night now too. So Phil allowed Tubbo to smoke, on rare occasions only.

Tubbo released a puff of smoke before he looked down at the time. The memorial would start in a couple of minutes, and his speech would be in about 15, he had enough time to chill for a second. So that's what he did, he let himself chill. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about random things. His VP, Ranboo, had asked if they could create a memorial in L'manburg for all the fallen presidents, but that would mean they'd have to find someplace to put it. Where would it go, and would the citizens be okay with it? Tubbo released another puff of smoke along with a sigh, he'd have to run a poll after his speech to find out what the citizens wanted. He looked down at the cigarette in his hand and tapped a bit of the end off into an ashtray on his desk. That would just be something he'd worry about after the speech, and until then, he could calm down.

He released another puff of smoke as the door to his office opened, and Ranboo himself walked in. His nose wrinkled up in disgust at the smell of the smoke and he walked over to a window.

"You up in 5 minutes Tubbo," Ranboo said as he opened the nearest window

Tubbo nodded and stood up, walking over to the window next to his VP, and opening it. Next to Ranboo the 18-year-old appeared short, but that was just because of Ranboo's Ender genes. In reality, Tubbo was pretty bloody tall, just over 6' 4". He smiled slightly as he opened the window, allowing the fresh air to rush into the room, driving out all the smoke. Once the two windows were open, Ranboo turned to his president and sighed at the sight of the cigarette.

"You really should stop," Ranboo said, gesturing to the bud in Tubbo's hand "You're too young."

Tubbo nodded and leaned on the window seal "I was also too young to be president," Tubbo looked to Ranboo "And yet here we are."

Ranboo chuckled and sighed, looking out the second window "Yep, here we are."

They stood there in silence for a bit before Ranboo cleared his throat.

"We better get going," He said as he turned away from the window "We wouldn't want to be late."

Tubbo nodded and walked over to his desk, where he pushed his cigarette down into the ashtray. Once he was sure it was out, he turned back to Ranboo and smiled, nodding.

"Yep, let's go."

The quiet assassin lied low to the ground, careful to avoid the attention of any people below him. He knew all their names by heart, but even then he wasn't sure who they were.

It had just been so long.

They shook their head, no, they couldn't allow their mind to wander now, they had a job to do. They were here for one reason, and one reason only.

They heard cheering and their eyes immediately snapped to the podium, where the President was, walking up to his stand.

What surprised the assassin were the horns that came from the president's head.

There was no doubt about it now, he had definitely become the next Schlatt, that fact only fueled the assassin's want to kill him. He didn't take his eyes off the president as he pulled back the string of his crossbow, loading it, and aiming it carefully. As soon as the President was done speaking, that's when he'd shoot. Whatever he said in this speech would be his forever last words.

The president tapped the microphone in front of him and leaned down.

"H-hello? Is this on?" He started

Many of the audience members nodded and the president smiled.

"Great! Then I guess we can get started." The president sighed and looked up

The assassin had never thought he'd hear the words that came out of the president's mouth that day.

"Today, we are here to remember Tommyinnit, who on this day, was exiled by myself. A decision which I regret every day." The president sighed and looked down "He was a friend to most of us, and always brought a laugh with him whenever he entered a room. Sure he had a temper, which got him into some shit sometimes, but he always found a way out of it, most of the time."

That last statement causes some of the audience members to chuckle, including the assassin. But he shook it off and re-aimed his crossbow.

"He didn't deserve the judgment that we pushed on to him, he deserved better than we ever gave him." The president sighed and looked back up "Which is why we're here, to remember him, on the day that I made the biggest mistake a friend could make." The president's eyes began to wander, and fell on the assassin "I pushed him away, and lost him."

The assassin and the president made eye contact. The assassin panicked and bumped his crossbow, causing the arrow to go flying. It flew through the air, and the assassin stood up, watching as it made its way to the president, landing right in his right shoulder.

There were screams in the crowd, and the president was pushed away. The assassin pulled up the bandana around his neck to cover his face before running off.

He couldn't complete his mission if the president got away.

He ran and eventually, found the building that they were hiding him in. A quick scan of the building and he found two open windows.

Perfect.

Tubbo slumped down into his office chair and sighed, looking down at the arrow in his shoulder. Ranboo sighed and ran his fingers through his black and white hair.

"Who was that?" Ranboo asked, "Who'd want to kill you?"

Tubbo stayed quiet as his VP went on and on about the assassin. He gripped the arrow in his shoulder and yanked it out of his shoulder with a quiet grunt. That stopped Ranboo from talking and he sighed. “I'll go get the medical supplies," He said, "You'll be okay until then, right?"

Tubbo looked up at Ranboo and smiled "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Ranboo nodded and walked out the door, making sure to close it behind him.

Tubbo sighed and reached over to his desk drawer. He opened it and reached into it, feeling around for the cool metal surface that he had grown so familiar with. He pulled it out and looked down at the compass. He felt the engraved words on the side and smiled sadly. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. He heard the window next to him close as he sighed and lit a cigarette, setting it into his mouth.

He released a puff of smoke before he looked down at the compass, the red needle pointing to his right. He sighed and turned his office chair in the direction of the window, staring at the figure in front of it.

"So," Tubbo said, looking down at the compass in his hand "You've finally found me."

He looked back up at the assassin's face, not finding an enemy's face, but a friend's.

"Dream told me you had burnt that damn compass." The assassin spat out

Tubbo shook his head "I would never," He said, "Someone had taken it and I wasn't able to find it for a good month, but I'd never destroyed it."

The assassin scoffed and leaned back against the window seal, but their eyes were still set on Tubbo.

They pointed to the horns "When did those grow in?"

Tubbo released a puff of smoke before he sighed  "About a year after the exile," He said "It took a while to get used to them, but they're not too bad. They're fucking annoying when I'm trying to comb my hair though." 

The assassin chuckled and looked out the window as Tubbo took a drag from the cigarette between his fingers. 

"You look like shit," Tubbo said, taking the time to notice the assassin's attire 

They scoffed "And you look like Schlatt." They said sharply 

Tubbo nodded "I do, there's no doubt about that," He admitted with a chuckle

The two sat in silence for a bit, before Tubbo let out one last puff of gray smoke, and smudging out his cigarette in the ashtray. 

He sighed and looked up at the assassin.

"So," Tubbo started "You wanna tell me why your here, Tommy?"

Tommy didn't respond but instead looked out the window.

"Because judging by the arrow that you shot in my shoulder, you sure as hell weren't here to catch up."

Tommy nodded and chuckled 

Before he reached into his jacket pocket

And pulled out a worn out, cracked, and rusted compass.

Tubbo stared at the object in his old friend's hand, before looking up to meet Tommy's faded blue eyes.

"Wha-"

"Dream told me to keep it," Tommy said

"Why would Dream tell you to keep it?" Tubbo asked

Tommy looked down and the compass in his hands "He told me to keep it so that one day, I'd be able to find you," Tommy finally looked up at Tubbo, meeting his gaze "And kill you." 

Tubbo's eyes widened, and he looked down at the wound that the arrow had left, the blood bleeding through the fabric of his suit, before looking back up at Tommy.

"So, that's where the arrow was supposed to go," Tubbo said, "It was supposed to blow my brains out."

Tommy nodded and looked down, before squeezing his eyes shut.

"It was an easy task," Tommy said "But I," He paused and let out a small sob "I just couldn't do that to you."

It was then when Tubbo saw the tears running down Tommy's face, and realized that he was crying. 

"Tommy I-" 

"No, Tubbo I don't think you understand!" Tommy stood up and walked over to where Tubbo stood "I was so angry and hated you so much that I actually listened to Dream and practically went through with killing you. I listened to that green bastard!"

Tubbo's breathing got faster as he took a step away from his friend fearfully.

"I thought about it for so long, I had it all planned out. You'd been dead within a few seconds if I had just aimed correctly!" Tommy said, "But then you saw me, and suddenly I was having second thoughts." Tommy shouted "I began to second guess myself on something I had been planning for months on end. My hands began to shake while holding a weapon I had become incredibly familiar with, and I still shot you."

Tears were now flowing down Tommy's cheeks as he spoke.

"I shot you." He said quietly, looking down at Tubbo’s arm.

Tubbo looked up at his friend and realized just how broken he was.

"Tommy," Tubbo said, "I don't hate you for what you did."

Tommy looked up, his eyes widening at Tubbo's statement

"But-"

Tubbo covered Tommy's mouth.

"No Tommy, listen," Tubbo said "You have every reason to hate me. What I did to you was a horrible thing to do and no one deserves that."

Tubbo looked up at Tommy and smiled sadly, before pulling him into a hug.

"You can kill me if you want," Tubbo said "I just thought I'd say sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I was a terrible friend, and you deserve so much better than me."

Tommy wasn't quick to respond, he stayed silent during Tubbo's confession and even a few minutes afterward. But despite the tension in the room, Tommy sighed and hugged his friend and gave into his tears. 

"I'm so fucking sorry Toby." Tommy cried 

Tubbo, despite trying to avoid it, began to cry along with this friend.

"I'm sorry too, Tommy."

Alright, how’d you guys like that one? I had fun writing this.

#mcyt fanfiction #minecraft #tommyinnit fanfic #president tubbo #tubbo #tommy and tubbo #tommyinnit #tommy exile #dream smp #lmanburg #lmanberg #your tubbo #your tommy #minecraft fanfiction #mcyt

[hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 5 (final part)

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

This is the finale of this way too long "one shot". Find the prior parts here!

Story continues under the cut. You´re almost finished!!

Continuing to work at the bar for a while, Violet found a surprising guest on the other side of the counter.

“Clover! What are you doing here?"

Clover sank down on one of the chairs.

"A double shot, please" Clover joked, but probably wouldn't say no to a little refresher either.

"Tired?" Violet laughed, handing her a glass of water instead.

"Mhm..." Clover rubbed her face. "I´m slowly running out of energy... Well, how are your squeeze-points doing?"

They exchanged their data. While Violet was doing pretty well with a total of 17 points, Clover had (still) only gathered five points so far.

"Meh... I knew I'd loose" Clover mumbled.

"It's still not too late" Violet tried cheering her up. There's still plenty of time to touch Solom-"

"DONT." Clover shot her giggling friend a glare. "Look, it's not even anything personal, I just... Feel very weird inside when I imagine me walking up to Solomon like this."

Violet's smirk widened.

"You mean like... The fluttery feeling of butterflies in your stomach? Clover, could it be...?! That you lov-"

"I will eliminate you if you end this sentence."

She couldn't hide a smile at the joke, but soon Clover had to realise that her persistence to not squeeze Solomon's tail would have drastic consequences.

"You know...” Violet thought out loud at some point. "We never thought of a price for the winner of our challenge, did we?"

"... Nope."

The ideas kept processing in Violet's head. Then it hit her.

"Or maybe... Rather than thinking of a price, let's do a penalty for the loser."

Clover's eyes wandered up to meet hers, her face curling into a "I don't like where this is going" expression.

"How abooouut... The loser..." Violet began.

"Don't."

"... Has toooo..."

"Please don't."

"...Touch..."

"Why do you hate me."

"... Solomon's tail?" Violet grinned proudly.

"... You really hate me, don't you?"

"Come on, Clover" Violet cheered. "There's still time for you to score some points~!"

Clover wanted to reply something when a weird round of girly giggles caught their attention.

Around the dining tables, a group of female succubi where currently being served by Beel.

But they didn't seem to be interested in the drinks in his hand, but much rather in the man holding them. Even from the bar, the human girls could hear their excited squeals as they kept batting their eyes at the demon.

Clover's head landed on the bar counter in a depressed sigh.

"Whatever... I don't really care about the game anyway..."

In an instant, Violet's whole tone had changed.

"Clover..." She mumbled, voice soft as the patted her friend's head.

"It's been like this the whole evening" Clover grumbled, eyes pointing to the group of succubi. "I can't blame them, but... When I hear them thirsting over Beel, I…"

"Just go up to him" Violet said. "You know Beel, it's not like he'd be interested in some random demons."

The frown on Clover's face deepened. "... And in no random human, either..."

"Stop saying that. You know he likes your company. Likes you."

Clover shook her head.

"Just... Leave me, okay. Thank you, but... I'm just a little angry at myself. I also had so many chances to squeeze his tail but... Yeah..."

Violet clearly remained bothered, but Clover was quick to change the topic.

"Did you get that Luci-butt already?"

"... No" Violet cried. "He dashed away to grab Mammon, and they vanished in the staff room."

"... That's why Mammon was tied to the ceiling fan!" Clover called out. "Explains a lot."

Violet gave a nod, however continuing with her trail of thought.

"It's been quite a while, though... He should have been around the casino area, but wasn't there... And now he's on break, but, again, I have no idea where he is."

"Go search for him" Clover said. "I'll back you up here. I need something to do anyway, so... Go get your man. There's still his tail in need to be squished, right?"

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

They argued a little, but in the end, Violet accepted Clover's offer and excused herself into an early break. Violet was searching through the whole club. Asking some of the brothers, too, but none could give her a clue. She wasn't able to find him anywhere, so in her desperation, she went up to Simeon.

"Hey, Simeon? Have you seen Lucifer anywhere?"

The angel turned to greet her as well.

"Hello", he smiled. "Does he have a shift right now? If not, maybe he is using the restroom."

"Hm... I've been looking for him for a while now, though..."

Simeon mustered her for a moment.

"He might also be outside to catch some fresh air" he continued his trail of thought. "But I fear he might get a cold if he stays out for too long. Would you mind taking care of him?"

"Huh?" Violet's eyes widened in surprise.

"Lucy always had a bad habit of taking too little care of himself. So, could you check on him? I am sure he would be delighted to see you."

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

When Violet pulled open the heavy doors of the bar's back entrance, a head turned towards her immediately.

"Lucifer...!" she called out, looking down on the demon sitting on the stairs.

"Violet... Did something happen?"

He was already in the movement of standing up, worry spreading in his face.

"No no, everything's fine!" Violet quickly assured him. "I just came looking for you."

He stopped mid-motion, but in the end sat down again.

"Why?"

Violet bit her lip. She decided to plonk down beside him.

"I'm also on break now. I thought we could spend it together and relax a little."

She felt his gaze on her, but as soon as she turned to face him, he was looking off into the distance.

"I am pleased to hear you decided to grand me your free time" he smiled. Then, he gave a sigh.

"However... I should probably head back in soon. Someone might need my help-"

"S-stay!"

Violet impulsively grabbed Lucifer's arm before he could escape.

They stared at each other. Until Lucifer let out a breathy laugh.

"Well, if you demand my presence that much... I fear I cannot turn down a request from you."

A little silence came over them. From the side glances Violet threw him, the demon looked kind of... Odd.

"Ah... Is there something you need from me, perhaps?" Lucifer asked. "Or why is it that you want me to stay so badly?"

And from how he looked at her, his perfect attire not shattered, but shreds of exhaustion glistening in his eyes, Violet knew that he wasn't okay.

"I'm good", she replied. "I simply... Wanted to check if you're doing good, too."

Surprise crossed Lucifer's face.

"Of course" he replied. "I am used to working until late."

However, Violet kept inspecting him.

"... Are you worried about me?" he asked. She did not really answer with more than a guilty glance off to the side. "Your worry is misplaced. I am nothing out of the usual."

Violet almost gave a grumbly noise. So he wasn't going to break through his perfect face so easily, huh?

"Okay", she said, tone almost as if she didn't really care. "You know, because I feel kind of exhausted."

Lucifer was hesitating. "... Explain."

"We've been running around for hours" Violet began to list. "The music inside is rather loud, especially near the dance hall. Mammon keeps causing trouble... Well, not only him. It's always tricky dealing with an angry Satan, too, or Beel when he's hungry, or with Asmo when he's... horny..."

The demon interrupted her by giving a huff. He had seen through her plan.

"... So you've come to pity me? Do I seem that weak to you?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I would never think of you as weak!"

She made a little pause. A little nervous, she stretched out her hand to link her pinky finger with his.

"But I... Also don't think it's a sign of weakness to share your exhaustion with others... Let alone to be exhausted in the first place."

His crimson eyes met hers.

"... Why would I be exhausted?" he mumbled. "Dealing with this scumbag of a brother, keeping Beel from illegally eating food supplies without paying for them... Asmo groping strangers, Satan mocking me on purpose... Levi clinging to my side, whining that he wants to go home like some toddler... Oh, did you know Belphie locked himself in one of the toilet stalls to sleep? For two whole hours?" he was waiting for her to laugh, but had to endure her worried expression. "And then there's Lord Diavolo... Mixing his own sparks of crazy into this chaos..."

Mumbling the last part, he looked down on his clothing... Or rather the places where he normally would wear some.

Then his head perked up again.

"Why should I be exhausted?" he asked again. "All that is... Nothing out of the usual..."

Violet's lips curled into a sad smile.

Now she placed his whole hand into her palms.

"You work really hard, Lucifer."

He tried a cheeky smirk. "Words of flattery won't be enough to convince..."

But Lucifer's voice trailed off.

One could even debate that his mouth fell open just a slight bit, seeing the look Violet gave him.

So warm that it truly caught him off guard...

As if admitting his defeat, Lucifer went silent.

He enjoyed how her thumb gently brushed over his hand for a while as he was taking breaths of the fresh midnight air.

Violet was patiently waiting for him until eventually, he would speak up again.

"Aren't you cold?" Lucifer asked. "Your human body surely isn't used to the temperatures of Devildom nights..."

"Huh? No, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Oh, surely you are..." The teasing tone in his voice was back. "And I'm sure your outfit is only helping, isn't it~?"

He shot Violet some obvious glances, leading her to instinctively cover her body in a blush.

"Like you're one to talk...!" she mumbled.

"You got me there..." he chuckled. "I would lend you a jacket if I had one, but..."

Lucifer silently gestured at the arm sleeves, shrugging in a manner of "nothin doin".

He got a laugh out of her, and his relief immediately showed on his face.

"Your smiling face will have to keep me warm, then" he said.

Violet's smile turned into a blush immediately.

"Oh~?", he smirked. "A blush is fine as well, thank you~"

Struggling, Violet turned away slightly, trying not to embarrass herself even more.

Then, she felt arms being wrapped around her.

"However, I fear I have to take responsibility for keeping you warm as well..." he murmured close to her ear. "After all, it is my fault you have to sit here..."

The girl turned, and wrapping her arms around him as well, nuzzled her face into his warm skin.

"It's not your fault", she replied softly. "I chose to come and find you."

"... I still don't understand why."

"I told you" Violet smiled. "There's nothing wrong with taking a break from time to time. And if I, in any way, can help you with that, I'd love to do so."

She heard him breathe softly as he was searching for a response.

"... Thank you", he decided to say.

She squeezed him tightly. "You're welcome."

"...Stay like this for a little longer" Lucifer asked of her when it felt as if Violet was trying to pull away.

Of course, she agreed, and so they relaxed into each other’s embrace for a little longer.

Without meaning to, over time Violet's arms were sliding down his body a little, just enough to accidentally brush over something fluffy with her fingertip.

But, oh well, who would even mind gathering points for some silly game when there was something -- or rather, someone else to focus on...

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

They only parted after Lucifer's phone pulled them back into reality.

Sighing, he announced the end of their break.

"I'm glad we are closing soon..." he mumbled and helped Violet stand up. "Although, cleaning the place will probably leave us with another hour of work until we finally get to head home..."

"It will be exhausting… But we'll power through it" Violet assured, squishing his hand in encouragement.

"Yes..." Lucifer nodded.

Then, he pulled her closer one last time, wrapping one arm around her waist while looking down into her eyes.

"However... I would much appreciate it if we could keep our break a secret."

"Uhm..." the girl blinked, confused. "Sure, but may I ask why?"

"No reason in particular... I would simply ask that as a personal favour."

Then, he leaned in closer. Resting his chin on her shoulder, his hand reached to her lower back.

And Violet gave a gasp as she felt how he provocatively played with her bunny tail.

"In return, I will keep your secrets safe, too."

He pulled back, responding to her dazzled expression with a sly smirk, before passing her to open the door.

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

Being the gentleman he was, Lucifer held the door open, smiling at the lady as he gestured her to step inside.

"Thank y..." Violet was about to say,

Then both of them looked inside the kitchen.

Beel stood there, together with Clover, both giggling as they snacked on some sweets.

Violet wanted to smile at the sight… But the "shit, we got caught" expression on both of their faces, paired with Lucifer's tangible anger, made her frown instead.

"... Oops" Clover and Beel pressed out, simultaneously letting go of the meringues they had in their hands.

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

To understand how that situation came to existence, we should go back in time to take a look at Clover's side of the story.

She was cleaning the tables when yet another giggle pulled her out of her thoughts.

The girl felt tired, and had started to count down the minutes left until she could finally go home.

She was really done with life. And those certain giggles made it only worse. She would admit that she wasn't good with things like jealousy.

She just couldn't deal with it.

Not in a way like Mammon, for example, was expressing his tsundere feelings.

No, her way of coping was more... Self hating (like Levi I guess),

And hearing for yet another time how some hot demon girls called a certain waiter over to them drove her insane.

"Do you want to try my cake, Beel~?"

Clover flinched.

She peeked up to see how a demon caressed Beel's arm as she waited for his answer to her question.

Clover couldn't see his face, but, judging from his tone, he was wearing his usual frown.

"... I'm not allowed to eat the food we serve..."

"Oh, don't be like that..." The demon responded, loading some cake onto her fork. "It's my cake now, so I decide who gets to eat it. And I really want yooouuuu..."

She stopped, then one of her friends giggled.

"Are you going to finish that sentence?"

"It's already finished", she purred, seductively winking at Beel before leading the fork up to his face.

Beel was hesitating, for two whole seconds, before chomping down on both, cake and fork.

"Oh... Not again..." He mumbled.

The girls gave a giggle.

"Beel, you're such a beast!" The main (bitch) demon hummed. "That's no good, though... I wanted to feed you another bite, but how, without fork...?"

"Guess you´ll have to do mouth to mouth feeding...", Another chick chuckled.

And as the demon girl stood up to do exactly that, Clover stomped away impulsively.

In her fury, she didn't notice how someone was calling for her. She targeted the table in the most opposite corner possible as someone pulled her arm.

Belphie was staring at her, holding her by her wrist.

"... You're pathetic" he said.

"Thank you, tell me something I don't know yet." Clover pulled her arm out of his grip. "And, what, you've got nothing better to do then watch me be pathetic?"

Belphie blinked in surprise. “I would usually agree that it´s pretty funny to watch you get angry, but I´ve seen you be like this all night. What´s getting you this agitated?”

A deep frown spread on her face, but Clover didn´t answer. So Belphie looked back to Beel.

“Is it because of the succubi? Because of Beel?”

“… Please, leave me alone…”

She didn’t see his worried expression as Belphie was trying to figure the answer to his question.

“… Are you really this insecure?” He finally decided to ask.

As her only response was a short side glare with wet eyes, Belphie understood she wouldn´t talk about it.

“Really… Both of you can be such a pain to deal with…” Belphie breathed before leaving Clover alone.

And Clover felt even worse now.

Not only being so horrible inside, but Belphie tried to help her and she rejected it.

She fought tears as she furiously wiped the already clean table.

Pathetic. Yes, she was so pathetic. Honestly, Beel was probably in better company with those succubi than with an idiotic, childish human like her-

Clover got lifted off of the ground.

Squealing, she noticed too late how arms had wrapped around her thighs, leading her to now flail in the air in panic.

"Wh-what?!" Clover panicked.

"It's time for a break" She felt the culprit cheering into her back.

"... Beel?"

Beelzebub began to head through the local, the girl still in his arms.

"Let's go to the kitchen" he said. "Belphie just told you need a break, and I need your help with something..."

Clover gave some more confused noises, but it was impossible to move in the demon's grip anyway.

"O-okay, but... You don't have to carry me, I'm probably heavy..."

She felt him chuckle. "Heavy? I can carry you with one arm. Look!"

He stretched out his right arm to demonstrate. Beel led them into the kitchen.

The local wasn't serving any food at this late hour, so they appeared to be alone here.

"U-uhm... Beel, are you going to put me down somewhen soon, or...?"

"Yeah, soon..." he mumbled, then walked up to one of the shelves hanging on the wall. "Do you perhaps see anything on top of the shelf?"

Clover tilted her head.

"Yeah, there's a box of... What's that...? Meringues?"

Absolutely delicious meringues!"

Clover gave a little chuckle at the excitement in his voice, but her expression did a full turn when she saw the note attached to the box:

'BEEL. DO NOT EAT.'

"Could you get them for me?" Beel smiled innocently.

The girl hesitated, so Beel asked again. "Please, I can't reach them alone. The shelf is up too high."

"Well... I'm guessing someone hid them there on purpose..."

"Please, Clover... I'm so hungry..."

But as he realised she wasn't going to hand him the box that easily, he let her down to rest on the counter they had been standing in front of.

"Beel, I know you're hungry, but..." she began, however halted as she noticed how terribly tired he looked.“... Are you okay?"

The demon gave a little sigh. "No... I'm exhausted... Not like after training, but just... drained." He leaned against the counter next to her. "What about you? Aren't you tired? Have the customers been nice to you?"

"Huh? Yeah, they have."

"Good" he nodded. "We were afraid that some of the guests might harass you or Violet, but I guess Lucifer's official warning was enough to scare them off..."

Clover fiddled with her fingers.

"There was no need to worry, though. I don't think anyone would have approached us… or me, at least" she said, laughing awkwardly. "I don't have a fair share of people crushing on me like you, hahaha..."

Beel looked at her. "Good. You don't need any demons trying to seduce you. I wouldn't want you to go through a hassle like this..."

"... You don't like the attention?"

He shrugged. "Not really... But I have to be nice to them, so I tend to just ignore what they say. I won't say no to free food or extra money, but... I don't really see why they behave like this."

Clover chuckled, feeling relief at his words.

"Diavolo already said it... Good-looking staff makes more profit."

Beel blinked at her, processing her words. "... Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for" Clover smiled shyly.

He went silent.

"No... No, there is", Beel then suddenly said, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of her again. "I've been hit on the whole evening, but... somehow, it feels nice if you're the one to compliment me... You always make me feel nice inside. And for that, I should thank you."

He blessed her with a smile that, obviously, was directly followed by the girls' heart exploding in the love she felt for this man.

However, he still gave off odd vibes.

"...Beel?" Clover called out, seeing how he was deeply contemplating something.

"I was thinking of thanking you with some... Meringues" his smile widened.

"... Beel."

"They're supposed to be delicious! I could feed them to you... If I manage to contain myself. But I'd try really hard, because it´s for you.”

"Beel..." Clover sighed, watching as his puppy grin spread on his face more and more.

"Wouldn't that be nice to feed each other a nice treat...?" he changed into begging puppy eyes.

They stared at each other.

"Beel."

"Clover?"

"We both know you have wings, or could have simply climbed onto the counter if you wanted to get those sweets."

"... But I wanted to share them with you...?"

"We also both know how Lucifer tends to cast spells on the things that you are absolutely not allowed to eat. But those tend to apply to demons only most of the time."

Beelzebub went silent.

"What was that earlier?” Clover continued. “About you not wanting me to be lured by demons? And now, I find myself sweet-talked like this?"

His face had ultimately changed into sulking puppy mode.

"... But I... I'm... I really mean what I said…"

Clover crossed her arms.

"You're a sly demon, mister" she scolded. "And to think you'd take advantage of me like this...!" She fake cried in disbelief.

"I'm sorry..." he pouted.

Silence came over them, in which Clover fully knew that he was thinking of both, how to make it up to her AND how to achieve his goal anyway.

His idea surprised her, though.

"... Want to touch my bunny tail?"

"... Huh?"

"I've seen you and Violet do this to the others" Beel said. "I don't why, but you seemed to have fun, so..." He turned around to expose his tail. "AND I'll treat you with some of the meringues, of course", he added as he noticed Clover was seriously considering his offer.

Clover was grunting something. "Lucifer will kill us", she said.

"He doesn't have to find out."

"... You're evil..."

"Well, I AM a demon, after all" Beel laughed.

And as he teasingly wiggled his tail at her, Clover gave in to the temptation...

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

"Beel... Clover... Would you care to explain what I have to look at right now...?"

Lucifer crossed his arms as he spoke.

Yeah, they were SO screwed.

"... Uhm..." Beel started to mumble while Clover felt her stomach turn in guilt.

"Beel" Lucifer called out again. "Could those be the meringues that I have personally bought and reserved for me to enjoy after work?"

"... There was no name written on it" the avatar of Gluttony said.

Lucifer pierced him with an angry stare. Then he turned towards Clover.

"And you" his tone had the girl shiver visibly. "Demons were unable to touch that box. Hence, I assume it was you who got them? AND ate them, as well?"

"I forced her to do it" Beel immediately chimed in.

"Huh?” Clover blinked in surprise. "Beel, no... I got them! And asked Beel to try them with me. It's my f-fault" she lied.

Now Beel was the one to look confused, and the two kind of drowned in a spiral of trying to protect the other one. But the ruckus only fueled Lucifer's displease.

Already stressed out, he felt like he was about to explode.

If not for Violet who kept him steady.

"Lucifer" she mumbled in a mellow voice, stroking over his arm in a calming gesture. "Don't stress yourself. They will buy you a new package."

Lucifer shot her about the same angered glare as he had done with the others, but softened as he mustered her comforting smile.

With a sigh, Lucifer stepped closer to Beel and Clover.

"... You are lucky to have Violet standing up for you..." he mumbled. "As compensation, I order three boxes of those meringues. Oh, and when we close the bar, do not expect to leave until everything is as tidy as can be."

"Y-yes, sir...!"

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

Slowly (very slowly I know) but steadily, the evening came to an end...

A lot has happened, way too much to fit into this... One shot... Story... * glances at the total approximate reading time of one hour*

...Well. Let's not talk about that...

A little after 4 AM, every last customer had left the bar/ had been carried out of the dancing hall (like, a few of the most drunk ones literally had to be yeeted out of the local.)

Now everything that was left was cleaning up the local.

Lucifer took it upon himself to punish all of his brothers - and Clover - for annoying him at some point during this event. So those appeared to have an extra load of work, while he pulled Violet aside with him for some more leisure cleaning.

Around five in the morning, it seemed like the bunny crew was finally finished.

"Alright..." Barbatos mumbled, stepping out of the last hall he needed to check. "It seems we are done. All that is left is to take out the trash as we go."

"... How are we supposed to take out the trash? Mammon is still tied to the ceiling" Belphie mumbled casually.

"WHO DID YOU JUST CALL TRASH?!" Some Mammon screamed from the staff's room.

Clover mustered them in amusement, when Violet walked up to her.

"Ooooh, Clooveerrrr...." the girl hummed in a rather... Scary tone.

"... I don't like the look on your face" Clover stated in growing fear.

"You know... We still need to see who's won the challenge" Violet grinned.

Clover crossed her arms. "... Do we really need to compare?"

"Yes."

"Uggghhh..." Clover frowned. She pulled out her phone:

-------

Clover: Lord Diavolo? May we ask how many points you have?

Diavolo: I managed to gather 12 points, fair and square. How many do you two have?

Violet: I have 20 points in total... Although I'm not 100% sure if Lucifer noticed me earlier...

Clover: ...

* Clover has left the chatroom *

------

"Violet, I don't want to do this."

Clover's friend mustered her with a smirk.

"Well..." Violet hummed. "I'm not forcing you, but... You did loose, after all..."

"Violeeet..."

"And look" she pointed at the hall in front of the dressing rooms. "He's standing there, alone, for some reason... It's fate, Clover."

Clover gave the ugliest growl.

But in the end she walked up to Solomon.

She didn't even know how to approach this. Should she try to make it sneaky, or just awkwardly ask?

Legs wobbly, Clover came to a stop behind the sorcerer, reaching out her hand in the same moment that he turned around to face her.

"Oh, hello", Solomon cheered. "Can I help you?"

She flinched backwards.

"Uuhhhh..."

Solomon gave her a confused look, but didn't get to say anything.

Coincidentally, Levi happened to walk up to them as well, wanting something from Solomon.

The human turned around as the two talked.

And finally…

Solomon's bunny tail got touched.

...

Clover escaped immediately. Avoiding any kind of interaction, at all costs.

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

The last thing to do before everyone could return home was getting dressed normally again.

And everyone felt so tired that they really just wanted to hit the hay, when...

A panicked scream rang out of the stall Clover was changing in.

"... Clover?" Violet called out, already dressed normally again.

The girl gave continuous panicked noises, pressed out random “What is happening-?!”´s.

Then, all of a sudden, silence came over them.

“Cl… Clover…?” Visibly concerned, Violet was standing in front of the stall´s door, unsure what to do. As she didn´t get an answer, she was trying to open the door, but it was locked.

She had to hurry to get someone to help, and as her face screamed “we have trouble”, most of her friends came to look what was going on.

Barbatos had to help open the stalls door, and when Violet carefully pushed it open…

They saw a small, brown bunny sitting on the floor.

Its green eyes were staring up into the countless pairs of puzzled eyes as they tried to understand the situation.

Violet was the first one to move again. She slowly lowered herself, reaching out to the animal.

“Is that you… Clover?”

“HUH?!”

Half of the people there stared at the girl in disbelief.

“You´re telling me THIS is CLOVER??” Mammon asked with big eyes. Violet had picked the bunny up and stepped out of the stall to get a better look at Clover.

“What happened to her?” Beel asked, worry spread over his face.

Bunny Clover seemed to understand their words. Or at least, she suddenly turned her fluffy head, staring directly at Solomon.

And, well, the sorcerer stared back, an amused smile on his face.

"Ah... So Clover DID touch my tail, after all!"

"... What."

The whole group was now demanding answers.

Solomon chuckled, placing his gaze on Violet now. "I was waiting until one of you would finally approach me and touch my tail... But oddly, none of you seemed to have interest in touching it... I thought I had made myself an easy target, but I must have made it too obvious..."

Violet´s mouth fell open a tad bit.

"... So you really knew of our challenge?" She dared to ask.

But Solomon would only continue to laugh.

"I honestly thought my efforts would go to waste..." He mustered the bunny in her arms. "Don't worry though, the spell will wear off eventually."

"Eventually??" Levi repeated.

"Yes, in a few days or so."

"WHAT?!"

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

The whole way back to the house of Lamentation, Violet had to deal with this grumpy, pissed, simply angwy bunny in her arms. Clover couldn´t speak, but the little facial expression she could give said it all.

“Hey, Cloverrr…” Violet attempted to cheer her up. “Don´t look at me like that… It was fun, wasn´t it?”

Bunny Clover snuffled grumpily.

Yeah, yeah, she thought. It´s all fun and games until it´s about Solomon.

Meanwhile, Bunny Clover had to endure how the brothers kept poking her fluffy fur or took pictures of her.

If she could, Clover would have given a big sigh.

THIS is exactly why I don't trust Solomon... Never did, never will...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me bunny event #IT IS COMPLETED #WHY CAN I NOT WRITE SHORT STUFF THO #i hope you enjoyed this :>

[leelysian]

Hyunjin as your older brother AU 💖✨

genre: fluff

word count: 2.2k

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Hyunjin. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

☆ Let's start with you as babies.

☆ Hyunjin wasn’t too bothered with the idea of having a sibling.

☆ When your parents first broke the news to him, he was pretty indifferent.

☆ Your parents honestly thought he’d throw a tantrum or something but indifference was something they didn’t have in mind. 

☆ They slowly tried warming up to the idea of having a younger sibling to him, things like protecting them, taking care of them, sharing things with them etc.

☆ He wasn’t too keen on sharing. 

☆ Your parents diverted his mind from that thinking they’d deal with it later when it came to that in the future. 

☆ Initially Hyunjin would be nonchalant but once he saw how invested your parents were for your arrival- creating a nursery, making baby clothes, buying baby stuff etc. Hyunjin slowly got more curious. 

☆ Y’all know how his unnerving stare is, he’d just stare wide eyed in blatant curiousity at his parents preparing things. 

☆ He’d look at his mum eating weird things to satisfy her pregnancy cravings with disgust and sometimes mild curiousity. 

☆ “Why are you eating *insert craving*?” he’d ask. “Baby likes them.” your mum would say. "Oh. Baby's weird."

☆ That would make her laugh.

☆ Days pass by and finally the third trimester arrives. The baby is healthy and kicking.

☆ The fam was watching tv one fine evening when your mum felt a kick and gasped. Both dad and son jump up "What's wrong?"

☆ "Thebabykicked!" she said quickly in a word vomit. "What?" "THE BABY JUST KICKED!"

☆ *cue the freaking out*

☆ She grabbed Hyunjin's tiny hand and pressed it against her big bump when Hyunjin gasped in shock. "WOAH! BABY REALLY KICKED MUM!"

☆ "You were like that too, son." your dad would tell him. "I was?" he'd ask and point to himself and both your parents hummed in agreement.

☆ "You should talk to baby more, I'm sure baby can hear you." your mum told him as she ruffled his hair. "Okay mum."

☆ Thus, in random times he'd say things like "Come quickly." "I can't wait to see you." "I'm eating *insert food*, I think you'll like it but you have to come quick."

☆ Occasionally, he'd cuddle with your mum and rub her belly with lotion or body oil and he'd feel another kick which resulted in the room filling up with giggles.

☆ "Stop kicking mum so much, you'll hurt her." he'd scold. "It's okay baby. I'll be fine." your mum would say.

☆ Finally, the time for your birth came. Hyunjin was somewhat calm but inside he was all sorts of jittery with nervous excitement.

☆ After your parents had a moment with newborn you, Hyunjin was lifted up on the bed by your dad.

☆ The entire time he was quiet but wide eyed in barely concealed curiousity.

☆ Your mum gently placed you in his arms and your dad supported his arms so you were held securely.

☆ Hyunjin stared at you. Your eyes were closed. He raised a small hand and stroked your soft cheek and you stirred so he quickly pulled away.

☆ You opened your eyes into uneven slits and yawned and he smiled. "Cute hehe."

☆ He stroked your cheek again and your even tinier hand grabbed his finger. He gently shook your hand and rocked you in his arms.

☆ Hyunjin vowed he'd protect his new sibling. "He’s/she’s so small." he couldn't help but wonder out loud. "They grow quickly." your dad said.

☆ Fast forward, you were growing, and soon you started to babble and crawl.

☆ Hyunjin would always be keeping an eye on you.

☆ As all babies do, you had a habit of putting everything in your mouth. Everything.

☆ "NO Y/N DON'T EAT THAT." he exclaimed as you were about to put some sort of scum you found on the floor from your crawling adventure in your mouth

☆ He'd scream suddenly graced with the scene of you playing with the toilet water.

☆ Since you have the tendency to put everything in your mouth. He took a sour candy and handed it to you.

☆ You stared at the small, weird, colourful thing. He waited for you to do something.

☆ You put it in your mouth, grimaced heavily, dropped it from your mouth and frowned.

☆ Hyunjin had the time of his life and his stomach hurt from laughing so much.

☆ He'd walk and do things, you'd always follow him.

☆ He tried teaching you how to walk. Standing with you at arm's length as he held your shoulders.

☆ You took quite a few tumbles but he was there to catch you and cushion your fall.

☆ Then he took a different approach and stood behind you as he held your shoulders while you walked.

☆ Slowly with help from Hyunjin and your parents you learned to walk. Now the following became easier.

☆ If he went left, you went left. If he went right, you went right, if he ran then you ran. Then you'd stumble, fall and cry but Hyunjin would laugh and help you stand up.

☆ Soon, you learned how to climb and it was chaos everyday which made your parents exasperated and Hyunjin want to pull his hair out.

☆ "Y/N GET DOWN FROM THERE. THAT'S DANGEROUS!" as if you understood what he was saying. You giggled gleefully.

☆ Once your mum cut your hair. It was so bad. Hyunjin cried because you looked ugly. 

☆ Which made you cry.

☆ Both of you were crying. “MUM WHAT DID YOU DO TO Y/N’S HAIR?”

☆ You’d bother him when he was doing something wanting to be involved. He could be playing a game and you’d grab at him to get his attention. “Y/n stop!” he’d grumble.

☆ this is a true story. My mum cut my hair when I was like 1 and my older brother cried because it was so bad and I cried too

☆ Fast forward, you two are older but you’re still a smol child.

☆ You two played hide and seek. You picked the most obvious places to find.

☆ Hyunjin definitely knew where you were hiding because you always chose the same 3 spots but he'd pretend not to know.

☆ Just so he could jumpscare you. *cue the Hyunjin HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE laugh

☆ TICKLE FIGHTS!!!!

☆ Once Hyunjin was playing games. You went to him because your mum told you to go play for an hour. Hyunjin said no. “MUM HYUNJIN WON’T LET ME PLAY!” “Y/n you can play later. It’s okay.” Hyunjin has a smug look. 

☆ Hyunjin reaches to grab the remote to watch tv, you snatch it before he could. “Please let me watch!” he’d ask. “You didn’t let me play before, I’m not giving up the remote.” you say and hug the remote to your chest. 

☆ “You can go play now.” he put an innocent face. “No.” you refused. “What if I let you play tomorrow?” he asked but you didn’t budge. He did this way too many times. “How about I get you your favourite candy and you can play tomorrow?” 

☆ “How do I know you’re not lying?” you interrogated. “I promise.” he said. You mulled it over for a while. “Fine.” you toss the remote and rush to play your game. 

☆ Next time you were watching tv, Hyunjin didn’t let you play again. This time you were watching your favourite program. 

☆ He snatched the remote and changed the channel. “HEY I WAS WATCHING THAT! GIVE IT BACK!” Of course he raised it out of your reach, “I’m watching now.” 

☆ “If you won’t let me watch then you can’t either.” you’d move and block the tv’s receiver. He’d chastise you, “Y/n go away or else.” 

☆ “I’m telling mum.” you marched. “OKAY FINE HERE” he’d exclaim and give you the remote.

☆ He loved teasing you. As a kid you were a picky eater. Hyunjin didn’t complain as much as you, of course because he’s more mature.

☆ “Y/n you should eat your vegetables. Carrots are good for your eyesight. You don’t want to start wearing glasses now do you?” your mum would lecture you.

☆ “Yeah y/n, be like me. I have good eyesight. You watch too much tv as well. That’s not good.” he’d snicker and you’d glare at him. “You play games all day which is worse.”

☆ “Hwang Hyunjin, is that true? You should be studying more.” your dad would start lecturing him and Hyunjin would glare at you for that while you smiled triumphantly.

☆ Lowkey bullied you by calling you nicknames. 

☆ He’d ruffle your hair playfully but 9/10 times it was annoying for you.

☆ You two would wake up together early morning on the weekends to watch morning cartoons.

☆ Cuddle together under the same blanket until you fell asleep again because you woke up very early.

☆ He’d stand innocently somewhere, you would walk past him and he’d either pull your hair from behind or push you. “HEY!”

☆ He was probably the one who told you some childhood fantasy is a lie. Like the tooth fairy is not real. “Oops.”

☆ Fast forward you’re tweens/teens/young adults

☆ Hyunjin was tolerable but still annoying, as expected of a big brother.

☆ One of his tics were hogging the bathroom for long periods of time.

☆ It got worse because he hit puberty and now he’s OBSESSED with his hair.

☆ You’re going to the bathroom to freshen up, it’s the morning, you have school and he intercepts you quickly and locks the door. “5 minutes y/n!” You bang on the door, “HYUNJIN GET OUT! I’M GONNA BE LATE!”

☆ You need to pee, he’s already in the bathroom. “HYUNJIN GET OUT I NEED TO PEE REALLY BAD! PLEASE!”

☆ He steals your charger. “What’s your percentage at Hyunjin?” “I can’t find my charger, but mine’s at 76%.” “WHAT THE HELL GIMME MY CHARGER MY PHONE’S AT 23%”

☆ You’re chilling in your room. He barges in without knocking.

☆ “Can’t you knock?” you sigh.

☆  “Which shirt should I wear?” You choose one. “Okay thanks.” he says and leaves without closing the door.

☆ “HYUNJIN CLOSE THE DOOR!”

☆ He barges in without knocking to tell you something. He leaves but not before grabbing something closest to him and throwing it at your face.

☆ And once again, he leaves without closing the door. “HYUNJIN CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR!” haven’t you ever heard of closing the damn door nOOO

☆ You’re sleeping. He sneaks into your room. Plays something really loud. You  fall off the bed. He bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach. “HYUNJIN I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

☆ He shakes a soda can. You walk in. “Hey y/n you want this?” You shrug, “Yeah sure.” You take it from him and open the can.

☆ PSSSSSHHHHH

☆ And you’re sprayed in sticky liquid, it’s up your nose and your eyes.

☆ You get him back of course. Spray some shaving cream on his face and his outstretched hand. Phone recording in hand. “Y/N!”

☆ You undo some of the stitches in his pants while he was in the shower.

☆ He went out wearing them. He bent over. 

☆ RRIIIIIIPPP

☆ The thing is he has no idea you’re the reason his pants are torn from his ass.

☆ Since fashion is subjective these days, you two share clothes but mostly you borrowing his.

☆ You sneakily use his perfume/deodorant stash. 

☆ He’s having cereal. “Can you pass me the box?” you politely ask. “Hm oh yeah sure.” he hands it to you after he finishes pouring then walks off.

☆ You tip the box and only a handful of cereal bits fall out.

☆ “Think fast!” *throws bottle* and you fail to catch it.

☆ You two take a lot of photos. You take good photos of him and he takes good photos of you. Neither of you half ass this. Photography is serious business.

☆ What’s annoying is that he takes photos with your phone and then tells you to send them to him afterwards.

☆ “Take photos with your OWN PHONE!”

☆ You two dance together at home. Your parents bought just dance for your birthday. And you two have dance battles together.

☆ You two made tiktok videos together.

☆ It’s mostly goofing off though. Hyunjin is always laughing his ass off. *cue HEHEHEHEHEHEHE*

☆ He had a habit of teasing you with embarrassing childhood stories. 

☆ “I remember when you were drinking out of the toilet.” he would burst out laughing.

☆ “Yeah well I remember when you nearly shit your pants because of getting your tooth pulled out.” you retorted.

☆ “Oh really?” he’d stand tall and menacing. You pulled a Naruto. “Y/N GET OVER HERE!”

☆ Despite the constant bickering and small *cough* pranks, he was still a reliable brother. 

☆ You knew he’d have your back no matter what and he knew you would do the same for him.

☆ He was always looking out for you even if that may not seem like it.

☆ There was never a dull moment in your house because of you two acting like cat and mouse. 

☆ He’d sometimes say comforting things when things got too hard for you, if he had nothing to say, his shoulder was free to cry on.

☆ But that’s something you’d never change. Yet.

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz au #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin au #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop fluff #stays #you make stray kids stay #stray kids everywhere all around the world #gender neutral #gender neutral au #danceracha

[spencers-dria]

Turn for the Better

Someone To Stay Ch. 1

Spencer x fem!reader

Spencer POV:

I open my eyes and glance around the room. It's darker than I remember. I must have fallen asleep reading on the couch again. I glance down and see a pile of books on the rug. Oh yeah...I only made it through about four books this time before I nodded off. I sigh in frustration that I'm awake. Might as well get up I suppose.

I wander into the kitchen and pull open the fridge only to be met with a jar of peanut butter, week old left overs, and a half empty jug of juice. Next.

I try again with the pantry. Almost completely bare. I guess this is what happens when you stop going to the grocery store. I settle on a cup of apple juice and a bag of chips... better than nothing right?

I slump back down onto the couch and pull my green wool blanket over me. As I stare up at my ceiling, as I begin to let my mind wander. But this was dangerous territory. I have to keep my mind occupied, I just have to. So I quickly sit back up and turn the TV to one of my favorite Dr. Who episodes. They say that anxious people re-watch the same shows because they find the familiarity comforting. I could definitely understand the feeling.

It was the weekend, which meant I wasn't called into work. Cases had been slow lately, as we spent quite a bit of time doing paperwork back at the office. Unfortunately for me, this meant less distractions. Distractions were good. Distractions were necessary. They are the only way I make it through the days anymore.

Things had finally returned to normal for me back at work. I was going into the field, and it felt like my coworkers were no longer tiptoeing around me. I hate when they do that, and it bothers me more than any amount of teasing ever could. I'm not so delicate, so easily breakable. Look at everything I have been through, everything I have endured. Yet here I am, still alive, still doing my job. I didn't need to be babied. So it was a relief when I felt the regular rapport I shared with my friends return. They had gone back to the sarcastic remarks and silly nicknames. I was grateful for it. They did, however, continue to check up on me. This was something that I did appreciate. They've seen me go down a dark road once before. I have no intentions of ever returning. I was stronger than that... I think. All I know is I have held on this long without resorting to any unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Coping mechanisms...oh how I wish I had something to make the healing process easier. Having a fairly empty social calendar left me alone often. Normally I would find comfort in the peace and quiet of my solitary apartment, but not quite so much lately. I couldn't very well make plans to go out, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to do that. Who would want to hang out with me right now anyways? I'd be a damper on the fun, and everyone knows it. That's probably why my friends stopped inviting me to the nights at the bar.

There I go again, letting my mind slip into a dark hole of anxiety. Its not a safe place to be. I quickly turn my attention back to the show in front of me, letting it drown out all other thoughts.

The ring of my phone quickly draws my attention away. Finally...another case! I jump up to answer, seeing the name on my screen: Derek Morgan. That's odd. Usually Hotch or Garcia call to notify us of a new case.

"Hello?" I answer, confusion lacing my voice.

"Pretty Boy! Buzz me up!"

Well now I'm even more confused. Derek never comes to my apartment. I quickly press the button letting him into the building and opening my apartment door, waiting for him to arrive.

As he comes up the stairs, he gives me a grin shouting, "Come on man! Get dressed. We're goin' out!"

I roll my eyes and retreat back into the apartment, Derek close behind me.

I sink back onto the couch, my eyes glued to the television as I tune him out.

"Aw c'mon. Don't be like that. How long have you been sitting there watching TV? Have you done anything else today, at all?"

I don't answer, I don't even look at him.

"Oh, let me guess. You've been reading all day, huh?"

"Wow, can't get anything past you huh?" I say dryly, regretting my tone as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Alright that it. You've been cooped up in here too long. Like I said before, we're going out. And I'm not taking no for an answer" he says sternly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I finally look up at him as I roll my eyes.

"You know I can kick your ass right?" Derek smirks.

"Fine" I concede. "Well...where are we going? I don't know what to wear unless you tell me what our plans are."

"Don't pretend you don't wear the same fancy button ups no matter where you end up going."

I let out a small laugh...he's got me there.

"Dinner at Rossi's. I know pretty boys are high maintenance but, hurry up or you'll make us late!" I smile at the nickname. Same old Derek.

Y/N POV:

You let out a sigh of relief as you watched your coworker approach you, ready to receive report. It had been a particularly busy shift, and you were ready to get some much-needed rest. You walked to each patient room, giving Clementine summary of the day and the latest updates on labs and vital signs. You stepped into each room with her, checking one last time to make sure each of your patients was doing well and didn't need anything else before you left. Normally you and Clem would spend some time catching up and making jokes, but she could tell you were tired and needed to be home more than anything. You wished her good luck on her shift as you made your way to the break room. After putting away your stethoscope and the large collection of pens, pencils, and markers you kept in your pockets, you finally headed towards the elevator to leave for the day.

You opened the door to your apartment to be greeted by your dog, Juneau. She was a rescue you adopted a few months back. She still needed to make progress, but she had really warmed up to you and your friends and seemed much more comfortable in her new home. After feeding her dinner and taking her for a short walk, you heated up a quick frozen dinner and sunk into your couch.  Curling up in your blanket, you spent a few minutes browsing through different streaming services only to land on The Office, as usual.  Your mind drifts to what your next few days might consist off. You just so happened to land 4 days off in a row, but you had no idea how you would spend your time. You glanced down at your phone as it lit up.  It was your Uncle Will.

"Hey, whats up!" you chimed, glad to hear from your favorite uncle.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm actually calling to invite you to a dinner some friends of mine are having tomorrow night. I know your schedule is real busy. But I haven't seen you much since you moved up here to Virginia! I know you haven't met many people here yet, but I think I can help you make a start. "

The kind gesture made you smile. You had always been fairly close with your father's side of the family. He had grown up in Louisiana and met your mother at a college in Texas. You spent your childhood in Houston but frequently visited the Cajun half of your family. Uncle Will had moved away once he fell in love with Jenifer Jareau, his now wife, and you hadn't seem much of him the past few years. But as luck would have it, your nursing career had lead you to a hospital in Fredericksburg, VA. You felt extremely lucky to have family nearby, or else you would have been completely alone. But sometimes you still felt that way, which is why you were so grateful for his offer.

"That actually sounds great! I am off for the next four days, and I didn't really have anything planned. Who will I be meeting at this dinner?"

"Well it's some of JJ's coworkers. They're like a second family to us, and I know they'll be just as welcoming to you. I already told them you moved up here, and they've been begging to meet you."

"Aww I can't wait to see Aunt JJ and my sweet little cousin, Henry! Its been so long since I came to visit you guys. I think Henry was barely two years old the last time I saw him."

"Well we all hope to see you a lot more now that you're here. You're like a daughter to us, Y/N. You are welcome to visit any time you like. I know nursing is a stressful job, and it can take a toll. Its important to have family and friends around you when things get tough." You could hear that this was a genuine offer and you fully planned to take him up on it in the future. Being alone in a new state was taking its toll.

"So where and when should I plan to meet for dinner?"

"I'll text you the address real quick. Everyone is planning to meet around 6. It shouldn't be too far of a drive. It's one of JJ's coworker's houses. David Rossi. He's a real easygoing guy, and he loves cooking for everyone. He loves meeting new people even more, so you should feel right at home!"

"Sounds like a fun time. Thank you again for thinking to invite me. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Alright boo, talk to you later."

You smiled at the pet name used by the entire Louisiana side of your family. I guess the north had yet to steal his southern roots. You hung up the phone. You finally had plans. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't a coworker.  It would also be your first excuse to dress up since moving and starting your new job. Too excited to wait, you jumped up from the couch and began to rifle through your closet for something to wear. You didn't want to be too over or underdressed. You grabbed a black spaghetti strap fit and flare dress and throw it on with some black panty hose, a lightweight maroon cardigan, and some black heels. You snapped a quick photo in the mirror and shoot a text to Aunt JJ.

Y/N: Apparently I'm joining y'all for dinner tomorrow night...is this too much???

Aunt JJ: I heard! I can't wait!

And oh my goodness, no! You look gorgeous! It will be perfect.

Also...Henry is so excited to see you!

You smiled, more confident in your choice. Aunt JJ had great taste. You had only had the chance to meet her in person a couple times, but the two of you had clicked right away and stayed in touch over text and Facetime. Sometimes she felt more like the sister you never had.

Starting to feel the effects of your particularly difficult shift, you start to get ready for bed. You wanted to be well rested for tomorrow. You say goodnight to Juneau and crawl into bed, snuggled under all the blankets. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, with the feeling that things in your life are about to take a turn for the better. You couldn't explain it...but somehow you just knew.

#fanfic #writing #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencerreid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #romance #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #original work #original story #Spotify

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plizetsky x reader)

(Part three)

Part one. Part two. Part four part five Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: mentions of minor injury, tsundere Yuri

*Yuri's POV*

"Do it again. This time slow down and think every turn through before you start over."

It's worse than he anticipated. How many practices did he cancel exactly? The sweat is pooling at the base of his hairline and he can feel a nerve in his pinky twitch uncontrollably after using his hand to save him from a particularly bad fall after attempting a rushed series of jumps ending in a loop. The all too pleasant sound of the blades of his skates cutting up fresh ice from the surface is mixed with grunts of frustration and rapid panting. His mind tells him to repeat repeat repeat from the start if he gets something wrong. Repeat until he gets it right and then move on.

Yakov is visibly in a bad mood after seeing how much training they had to get done before moving to his sessions with (Y/n). That means hiring her longer than expected and that's something both him and Yakov wants to avoid. Not because they don't have the money, but because she'll be wandering around without a purpose in Japan, waiting for Yuri to get back in shape.

Another fall. Yuri attempts to use his other hand for support and spring on his feet again but the balance fails him since it's the wrong hand and the inner edge of his right skate bends outwards. He stumble for a second but gets right onto repeating the combination. Deadset to move on as fast as possible.

He knew that Yakov said they would be starting tomorrow morning with his time at the rink. Though,  Yuri had a feeling he would need all the extra time he could get.

(Y/n). The aftermath of his first meeting with the all too famous singer started kicking in. All he could do was thinking about it. His harsh behavior and the disappointment in her response. 'Your voice isn't that special'. Why did he say that when she's literally gold winner of the hottest contest in current time? Even worse, why did he say that when until today he had been following her journey through We Are Voice with a great interest? He especially remember the shock of entire Russian population when she chose to compete with 'Scream' by Sergey Lazarev. That song got sent as Russia's participating song in Eurovision Song Contest. The music contest arranged by the European countries each year. Even though it only came in 3rd place that year it certainly felt like we had won with such a legendary cover. Her presence glowing on stage like that with one of the prides of Russia certainly exploded all over the internet.

But now? It felt too surreal to stand in the same room as the (y/n) (l/n) from that performance. Like he shouldn't know stuff like what shampoo she uses or her off-camera personality. It was almost too intimate in a way and Yuri wasn't sure that he wanted to get to know her. And certainly not as his coach. That just felt like some sense of mockery to him. 'Hey, let's pic the girl who won gold for her intense stage-presence because Yuri is that sucky on feeling stuff.' Was the stuff people surely would be saying about him as soon as media got hold on the news. No, not that he cared about what other's said. It was partly true.

Each jump more rushed than the other, his ears tuned out the sound of Yakov's irritated voice at the end of the rink. The only sound he heard was the sound of his skates clashing and his own breath. Somewhere a door opened and he heard quiet voices at the entrance.

Great. An audience. He decided to stop with the combination for one moment and went with a basic camel spin, slowly fading into an upright spin, hoping into a salchow. The intention was to gain some of his dignity back before he would have to go back falling on his face again. But when the rotation of the salchow was off, anger burned up inside him. Now he was determined to get the jump right followed by the combined spins.

"Yuri, you still have to..." Yakov said to him somewhere to his left but he didn't hear much of it. Or was it right? No, behind him. Where was he located again? Doesn't matter, just keep moving.

Where are the walls of the rink? No, just do it.

It's just camel, upright and salcho-

*smack*

A heavy impact to his head and startled gasps somewhere. He was on the ground now, clutching his forehead in his hand. After one look of the object causing the impact he groaned and stood up in a haze. That damned wall. Was he really that caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize his balance was completely off even before the finishing jump?

He looked around on the people inside the room. Yakov with his furrowed brows and a girl and a man running into a lounge. That must be the piglet's friends. And beside Yakov a few turns away-

(Y/n). Of course she had to see that. After her stern words at dinner time, Yuri had no intention of causing a further scolding from her. Yakov he could handle but her, just ridiculous.

The old man flailed his arms for a motion for Yuri to continue practicing.

"Don't stop now! You haven't gotten it right yet!"

R-right, he stopped moving and ended up staring at the people around him. Even if he didn't get to catch his breath, he still was too far behind to call it a day now. 'This time I'll have to get it right.' He thought and proceeded to finish the camel/upright spin and then-

Yes! He landed on the outer edge with his right foot like expected and took a little skip to finish it off more aesthetically pleasing.

He tried to ignore the blood pounding in his ears as he went back to the previous combination. But once again the loop faltered and the muscles in his hand hissed underneath the ice as he held himself upright.

"Hey, Yuri! You go take a breather, don't ya? And come here while you do."

It was (Y/n) who rested her arms against the edge of the rink. But a confused cough from Yakov made him hesitate and he stood still, waiting for the two of them to decide for him. He should probably keep going-

"But he just got it right!"

"I can tell when someone's on the verge of collapsing. It's very clear that he won't get anything done if you keep it at this rate. Hell, he might even get seriously injured if his limbs don't follow instructions, Yakov. At least grant him a break." The smile (Y/n) gave the man was a sign to say 'no hard feelings' but the tone of her voice said otherwise. After a moment of silence he nodded and waved at Yuri to get off the ice towards (Y/n). But Yuri didn't really want to be alone with her so he went to the opposite side of where she was waiting for him. He earned a questioning look from her but just waved it off with his own hand.

His fingers were cold and stale. It was hard getting a good grip on the shoelaces and getting the blades in its sheathing. He grunted and leaned back against his seat, the skates still on his feet and his hands turned to fists.

"I know you don't need my help." The boy gazes up at the girl beside him. His new coach looks down at him from where he's sitting and takes a seat beside him. A first aid kit and a blanket rests in her lap.

He sits up properly and turns his head away from her, continuing to untie his skates.

"You're right, I don't."

"You're very consistent. I personally think you did a grea-"

"Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to meet your fans or something?" Yuri knew it was risky to cut your coach off mid-sentence but the words came anyway. Besides, is she really a coach if she has zero experience how to teach others? She's just playing like Victor did two years ago and kept doing so. Even if she's no coach, her (h/c) eyes still feels like they are piercing his soul and there no way to shield himself from her. He feels like an open book for her to abuse so... Maybe she's just good at reading emotions and not actually teaching them. How does one teach emotions? What will she be doing exactly?

"That ended hours ago. You weren't at Hot Springs when I returned so Victor figured you'd be here."

Stupid Victor. Couldn't he tell that Yuri didn't want her near?

(Y/n) opened up the first aid kit and Yuri eyed it carefully. She handed him the blanket with an extended arm but he just swatted it away. It fell on the floor and she stared at it blankly. Then she bent forwards and picked it back up, forcefully wrapping it around the skater burrito style.

"Wha- stop it!" He pouted and shot daggers at her once again. This time, he only earned a grin of satisfaction from her as she took a cotton pad and drenched it in hydrogen peroxide.

"You earned a pretty nasty wound when you headbanged the wall, you know." He knew. Blood was dripping into his left eye and made his vision turn red. He started thrashing and trying to eel his way away from her. That caused her to take a steady grip of both of his cheeks and hold him still. The look she gave him said 'don't you dare move again' and she put the drenched cotton against his forehead. Sharp pain exploded from the wound and he hissed. When the pad was removed, a wet tissue swept up the blood on his cheek and on his eyelid. The touch was cool against his hot skin. Some of his vision turned back and he released a small sigh of relief. Lastly a bandaid was put over the wound. He saw (Y/n) judging her work carefully and then she nodded to herself.

He jolted slightly when he felt her grab his hand with careful manners. Her hands spread is fingers cautiously and he felt her thumb swipe over his still twitching pinky.

"You feel this, right? Does it hurt badly?" Her voice was soft like a breeze and it startled him slightly. A moment ago she was rough and stern and now she's soft and tender? And for the record, yes. Yes he does feel that. And he doesn't even want to begin to think of how soft her hands are-

"No... It's nothing." He lied. But what else what he supposed to say anyway. His hand was swollen but he can't skate with a bandage. But depending on the unimpressed look she gave him, he knew she wasn't buying any of his bullshit.

"Then how come your face looks like that when I touch this spot?" She spoke and applied the slightest of pressure in between the joints of his knuckles. He let out a forced 'owowow' at the action and yanked his hand out of her grip.

"Fine! But you don't have to hurt me further then!"

"Then only one hurting you here, is yourself."

She picked up the rolled bandage and grabbed his hand once again. He took a moment to linger his attention on what she said. How is he hurting himself? He's just doing what needs to be done!

Yakov returned to the two of them and stood slightly off to the side. Yuri saw the dismay in his eyes when he saw the bandage (Y/n) held.

"Kid, we're done for today. Take the rest of the day to gain back your energy for tomorrow's practice."

Yuri nodded and kept watching (Y/n) wrap the bandage. Meanwhile, he couldn't help but catch the mild scent of peach and wild berries. But there was something else. Probably (f/c) (favorite scent) and it smelled fantastic for some reason.

"You know, you should probably get settled into your room immediately when we return." (Y/n) spoke up and flashed Yuri a smile.

"I'll help you." She continued but he shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary!"

"Oh right, there is one more thing I forgot to mention earlier." Yakov leaned against the walls of the rink as (Y/n) finished wrapping Yuri's hand with the bandage. It felt better with the comforting pressure onto his swollen hand. Jokes aside, maybe he could actually find something to enjoy at his stay here.

"Hot Springs and the hotels in Japan are currently all occupied. You will be staying in (Y/n)'s room thought your stay, as roommates."

...

Nevermind, scratch that thought.

#yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yurianime #yuri on ice #yuri katsuki #victor nikirofov #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky #anime fanfic #fanfiction #animelove #anime

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU

Marcus Álvarez x Reader

Anon asked: Hi! Cloud I please request a Marcus Álvarez x Reader where they both used the hate each other and then go through a traumatic experience and are forced to work together to survive. Will there hate turn into friendship or something more?

WARNINGS: NSFW, VIOLENCE DESCRIBED

Word Count: 1.4k

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You have lost the count of how many hits your body has received. Feeling the metallic flavor of blood inside your mouth, and some of it drying all around your face, neck and chest, you're about to fall unconscious. You can hear like a distant echo Marcus calling you, trying to maintain you awake. The tears getting intermingle with the thick red liquid, your arms hanged from the rooftop, grabbed by two heavy chains tangled in your wrists. And your feet barely reach the ground, using your sleepy tiptoes because of the pain.

“Hey, niña, stay with me!”

“I ca—can't…” You cry pitching forward, and your eyelids playing you a dirty trick.

“You're doing it very well, you hear me…? Stay with me, (Y/N)”. He begs then like never before.

You try to nod, feeling how your neck is already affected too because of the affliction, trying to turn it to El Padrino. He is some meters away from you. Same position. Blood and saliva all around himself. You don't know how many time has passed since the black SUV threw you out of the road, before tie your hands and cover your heads to force you to lie down inside the truck.

“You're fucking strong, you hear me? And you have to stay awake, just a little more. Will you do it for me, ah?”

“I will…” You say almost in a whisper, swallowing and drawing a painful gesture because of the pain running through every inch of your face.

Let's be clear, after telling him once that you wouldn't ask him for help even if you were dying, now you know how much wrong you were. You wish he shoot you right now to finish with this suffering. Some broken ribs and also two fingers, several hits to your face, to your stomach, kicks to your back and some very slight cuts under your collarbone. You just want to die, that's a fact. If they thought you could give them a shit of the Mayans, it's because they don't know you. And using Marcus to do it faster is even more wrong. What kind of mercenary doesn't study his prey before catch them?

You have never had a good relationship with El Padrino. Not because your work as mechanic isn't good, totally the opposite. But because you're a woman, and you shouldn't be part of ‘men businesses’, referring to the counted occasions you have had to help Bishop with shipments to Nevada. You have a good aim, and you know how to ride a bike, what else do you need? Now, Marcus is seeing why his primo taught you everything you know today, since he kicked out your ass from streets to give you a better life. A job, a house and a family. You're not going to lose it for being a sneak.

“Where's the Galindo's warehouse?” A man with a spooky mask and a strong northern Cali accent grabs your throat with a hand.

You're not a pretty smart ass at this point of your agony, so the most intelligent thing you do is spit on his face, only making him feels angrier.

“I'm going to teach you a little education, bitch”.

When you want to realize, your body has fallen to the floor as a dead weight, after two men have released the roof hook. The one who was asking you tangles his right hand in your hair, dragging you in front of the other mexican. What's happens next is a loud falling into the hot flames of hell, between pleadings and bawls, while Marcus tries to free himself to help you.

“See? That's what he cares about you”. A man close to your face laughs, with your body engulfed in a shock where you finally feel nothing but tiredness, between kicks right to your abdomen, ribs and back. “Where's the warehouse, Álvarez?! Tell me or we will going to do it until she's dead!”

You want to tell him to not do it, to keep silence, but you can't even breathe well. How it's supposed you're going to talk? Your brain is so drained that the darkness is wrapping you between heat and ache, closing your eyes inevitably while your body continues shaking without wanting. But before you can faint, you hear somewhat similar to a shoot. Feeling warm drops splashing your face.

The mattress sinks slightly under your weight, rolling over it to the side you don't feel any pain. Your breathing is quite, relaxed and constant. Your lungs get flood by a strong masculine essence known to you. But you're too shocked yet, to connect the dots.

“I'm not… shit… Ma-Mayans”. You mutter with dry mouth, trying to swallow some saliva to lubricate it. “Fam—Family… My family…”

Five long fingers get tangled with yours, feeling soft kisses on your cheeks. You're crying again, sleepy, without strength to open your eyes. But you try to shake your body, free yourself from him.

“Kill me… I wi—will not… Mayans…” You utter somewhat loud, moving your free hand to the other body close to yours. “Family…”

“Rest, princesa”. Bishop's voice interrupts you with a smooth and carefully tone in it. “You're at home”.

The room is somewhat dark, but you can recognize it easily, as soon as your eyes finally can be opened. Without moving a single inch of your anatomy, you discover Marcus lying on the nearest sofa covered by different bandages and stitches in his bruised face. You're pretty sure that you must look like him, fucked up and destroyed physically. He notices you're awake by turning his head to you. The mexican doesn't say anything, feeling his body tensing because of the guilty, keeping the dark orbs above you. He's not even sure what he should do, hesitating for a second before sitting up and nailing his elbows on the lap covered by a pair of clean sweatpants. His hands on his head, with it falling down.

Not even your sarcasm could make you smile for a second, just wanting to know that the crew already killed those demons. The man stands up, walking with weak steps to the bed, lying by a side while you give him your back. In holy silence, Marcus wraps your body with his strong arms, pushing you closer into them. His head resting on the pillow, closing his eyes and feeling he can finally breathe relaxed. You sigh heavily, getting a little more comfortable under his grip being conscious that he's the only one allowed to touch you right now. The only one who understands your pain. And the only one who will can repair it somehow.

“I will protect you until the end of my life”. He whispers noticeably tired, sad and disappointed.

And what you couldn't expect is hearing him crying behind you, sinking his face between your skin and the pillow. Turning your body over the bed, you take him in your arms too, facing him for a second. You try to clean his tears with your bandaged fingers, while he melts into the guilt. It's not his fault. It's not Mayans'. And, obviously, it's not yours. You're not going to pretend that nothing happened, because this is something that happens every day, everywhere. In you reside the strength to face it, to fight against it. And it's something you're not going to forget, never, not even trying it with all your efforts. But you will not turn it into a weakness, but into a fortress. Marcus must do it too.

“I'll protect you too”.

You say then, caressing the back of his head slowly, closing your eyes again. You want to fall asleep, and you know you're only going to do it being close to him. The man holds you tightly, pressing his lips on your forehead in a dearly kiss, touching after that your skin with the tip of his nose.

“I am sure about this, niña”.

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #marcus alvarez imagine #marcus alvarez x reader #marcus alvarez

[koko-bopp]

Flirty Criminal

criminal!song mingi X detective!m!reader

Part 4

word count – 3K

genre – Fluff/Angst | Criminal/Cop!au

warning(s) – mentions of cheating, threats

synopsis – “[Y/N] [L/N] is known famously around his police precinct as the detective that the infamous criminal Song Mingi has a crush on. The detective denies these claims, though Mingi gets into as much trouble as possible just to see him.”

Things were going well, to say the least.

On one hand, Mingi was madly in love with you, which is what you wanted. Having the criminal wrapped around your finger was what was necessary to complete the job assignment, you were hoping he'd soon melt and tell you what you needed. You didn't ship your husband to Chicago for no reason.

Yet, on the other hand, it was getting increasingly difficult to retrieve what you needed, Mingi was always acting like he wasn't some notorious criminal, he would show a very different side to how he would normally behave. He was sweet, affectionate, constantly horny and just– you wondered; is this what Song Mingi is when he's not leading his life of violent crime.

Three and a half weeks have ran by, hickeys littered your shoulders and many kisses have met your lips. None of it bad, but Mingi had this mindset of 'I am not clingy, but I am', enough for your colleagues to know that you're seeing someone (they all know damn well that it isn't your husband, he was never this possessive) while you would change out of your work gear in the locker rooms.

This new change of pace wasn't annoying or something you were struggling to adapt to. You're literally paid to act cute and go on dates with the guy. Yet it had crossed your mind multiple times as to whether or not you were actually catching feelings for Mingi.

"Wow, your house is really nice," Mingi said, his eyes wondering around the whole place.

It's a big house, it's nice, and you're very much proud of it. High ceilings, a swimming pool at the back, a lovely porch; everything you had wanted as a child. You wrapped your arms around Mingi, his hands holding your waist as you did so. You placed a small kiss on his lips, "I missed you."

"You saw me yesterday," He chuckled, leaning forward to place another kiss. "We're actually having dinner, right? Because I came here on an empty stomach and I'm kind of starving."

"I didn't have a chef's mindset, I hope fancy ramen and wine is enough," You giggled, smiling at Mingi.

He scoffed light-heartedly, "That's fine, Im just starving. Let's enjoy our dinner, yeah?"

"What the–"

Maybe your husband shouldn't have over-thought the idea of you sending him to Chicago. You told him it as because of the fact that Mingi knew who he was and he was a potential target; and it was partly correct.

But the man you once fell in love with was standing at the entrance of the dining room with the house keys in his hand, shocked expression, eyes wide and horribly confused.

He wasn't in Chicago.

He was in your house, watching you hold hands with Song Mingi as if you were married to him.

Half a second had gone by, and the shock on your husband's face was inevitable.

Mingi was the first to notice. His eyes were smiling with his face while he was looking at you but his expression went cold when he turned his head to the man who was uninvited. He scowled, "Can we help you?"

To which you promptly turned around to as well. Your eyes went wide and out of instinct you stood up and let go of Mingi's hand, turning to your husband, "Ty...What are you doing here?"

"Me?" He scoffed at you, before looking at Mingi, "What's he doing here?"

Mingi didn't hold back, "Date night." He leaned back against the chair, his elbow propped up on the neck of it, almost slouching, but not the lazy kind, the intimidating kind. "And I don't know about you, but I don't like jerks in suits ruining them."

Ty didn't like that. Especially since he felt so in the dark with this whole situation, and the fact that you weren't doing anything to defend him made it that little bit worse. He took a step forward, his nose scrunched in anger, eyes on Mingi, "I could fucking step on you, Song."

Mingi let out a sarcastic laugh, before dropping it to a smirk, "I could fucking shoot you."

"Enough." You frowned at both of them before turning to your husband, "You. Come with me. And you–" You said, pointing at Mingi, "–You stay here."

He rolled his eyes, but stayed put regardless. His gaze drifted to your husband, glaring daggers into the guy's soul as he watched the two of you exit the room. Mingi huffed, unscrewing the bottle of red wine to fill his glass to the top, leaving the narrowest space just so the red toxins didn't overflow and permanently stain the lint, beige, tablecloth.

You had entered the guest bedroom, Ty following behind you before closing the door, making sure that there was no way anybody would hear the two of you. Ty took in a very sharp breath, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes still that bit wide from shock, "[Y/N]." He started, "[Y/N], what the fuck is going on?"

You crossed your arms, remaining calm, "Why aren't you in Chicago?"

"Excuse me?" Ty choked out, not really being able to comprehend the words coming out from his husband's mouth. "That's what your concern is? That I'm interrupting your date? Mind you, with Song fucking Mingi?"

You snapped; "I didn't interrupt your sex session with my partner, Ty."

Ty's expression went from angry to shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again since his mind was too busy re-registering what you'd just said.

There were very few things you were telling the truth about the night you slept with Mingi, but one of them weren't the fact that you found your husband in bed with your partner. The white lie was when you knew. It wasn't that night, you knew months in advance, but you just didn't have the heart to confront both parties about it.

The only issue was, the more you put the confrontation on hold, the more out of love you were with Ty.

And it was the reason why you accepted the whole assignment to trick Mingi into being your boyfriend. You weren't willing to fix things with a cheater, you respected yourself too much for that, but you also went willing to risk putting Ty in danger either, so you told him that sending him to Chicago would be safest for him.

Ty obviously didn't get the message, since he's in the same household as a man who killed a bunch of people, as well as willing to kill someone who's hurt someone he loves.

"Yeah," you sighed, "That's what I thought."

Cheating on a cheater is like fighting fire with fire; there's nothing wrong with it, just as long as both parties are sane enough to manage the flames. But it doesn't mean that ones flame won't occasionally burn the other.

"Get whatever the fuck you need, then go to my precinct. I'll call Haulting, he'll send you on the next flight to a safe house." There's always a plan B. You lock eyes with Ty, no smile, no frown, just some expression that told him that you didn't care what he needed to tell you, "If you need to talk; you call Haulting, not me. He'll forward you to me during bussiness-hours if it's urgent."

"[Y/N], don't—"

"I already did," you said, "And you did too. So don't bother."

Ty frowned, his brows furrowed in the process. He really wanted to say something, something that will show his guilt but also stop you from what he thinks is a dangerous decision. Though he knows danger isn't something you worry about, you didn't become a detective for nothong.

He didn't say anything. He looked at you for the last time that night before walking past you. He couldn't believe he was listening to you, or even letting go of the fact that youre still going to be around that bastard.

He stopped in his tracks when he reached the enterance of the dining room. He glared at Mingi, the jerk was sitting in the chair, glass of wine half empty with a stupid grin on his face that was directed to Ty.

"Watch your step, Song."

"Watch your your back, punk." Mingi laughed, before giving a knowing smirk, "If you're not careful, there might just be a bullet heading your way."

Ty scoffed, heading out the door, not forgetting to slam behind him as he left.

Mingi rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of the red wine before turning around to see you enter the room again. He smiled at you softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, sighing. "Yeah, sorry."

Mingi shook his head, putting his drink down. He watched you put your phone on the table, the device sitting up. He raised up from his seat, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder, "My help is yours if you need it."

You smiled, just a bit, taking in the smell of his cologne with your arms wrapped around his neck, "Thanks."

Mingi's eyes accidently wandered to your phone. He saw the thing light up, so it was almost hard to miss.

-

Wayne Haulting (Supervisor)

[8:11pm] I know you're on a date with Song, but I need a report back on hi...

-

The criminal frowned. His thoughts rushed to one thing, then to another, before stopping when you pulled away from the embrace.

His heart almost melted when you smiled at him, the action replicating a similar expression on his face.

You sighed, "Sorry for ruining dinner." You said, gently pulling on one of Mingi's buttons, "Want to watch a movie or something?"

Mingi nodded, "Sure."

But not before his mind fixing to wanting to know what that text was about.

#ooooooooooooofffffffttttttttt #some of yall are gonna hate me tjejjsjrjsksdjjds #muwah #song mingi #song mingi x reader #song mingi x male reader #mingi #mingi x reader #mingi x male reader #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez x male reader #ateez mafia au #ateez #mingi ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #fluff #criminal au

[fire-the-headcanons]

Follow the Beacon Summer—Trust

[Link to Masterpost]

Summer approached the cabin cautiously. There was no way for her mother to have beaten her there, but she would obviously have called ahead and put Huang on watch.

She'd called each of the twins three times, but neither of them had responded. Something was wrong.

And as usual, no one's willing to offer a damn explanation. She channeled all her frustration into her throwing arm and pitched the rock at the sensor. The klaxon on the porch wailed. It took less than ten seconds for Tai and Huang to run out, gauntlets gleaming on their hands, scanning the treeline for danger.

Tai had gone out the back door. Summer swung Gungnir into position, and shoved her aura into the Dust cores. She hadn't built it with a reverse setting. Making the cores repel each other was an unreliable way to fly at best, and when used to fire the arrow—like right now—it frequently lacked enough power to stick into what she was shooting at.

Right now, though, she wasn't trying to hit anything, she just needed Tai's attention. And most importantly, this method was silent. The arrow flew haphazardly out of the trees and flopped into the yard a safe distance from Tai.

"It headed east!" he shouted, taking off in the opposite direction. He'd lead Huang on a wild goose chase, and then meet up with her. As soon as they were out of sight, she resummoned the arrow and took off toward the cliffs.

***

Usually she would sit on the edge and enjoy the view—this was her favorite spot on the entire island. Today, she was enough of a Grimm magnet without sitting out in the open. She waited in a tree with Gungnir on her lap, ready to make a quick escape if her mother thought to check here.

She spotted Tai a long way off—orange cargo pants stood out pretty well against the snow. Her own black-and-white blended in, and he jumped in brief alarm when she dropped in front of him.

"What's going on?" Tai demanded, breathless. "You couldn't call?"

"Mom probably called your dad after I ran," she mumbled, clipping Gungnir to her belt. "Didn't want him to know I was coming."

"Ran? What—"

She stumbled forward and threw her arms around his ribcage, about all she could reach without stretching, and buried her face in his shirt. "M-Mom got a call from Ozpin and flipped out."

Tai squeezed her back, still trying to catch his breath but already panting less. "Flipped out?"

"She, she was screaming about Qrow and Raven, she, she grabbed me—" she choked back a sob. "What's going on? Why won't she talk to me?"

"...Dad asked me some weird stuff about them too, before you set off the alarm."

"They're not answering their scrolls. What if they're hurt, what if—"

"Okay," Tai muttered. "Okay. We need to get to Vale, right?"

"How?" she pulled away, wiping at her face. "Uncle Balt is the only pilot, and there's no way to sneak onto the ferry. Not in the middle of winter."

"We… we can call the forge. Qrow was supposed to be working on his scythe all week, right? Professor Carmine can let us know if he's there."

"The forge—" Summer struggled to breathe in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. "Oh, gods, he—there must have been an accident—"

"There's no reception here," Tai said, checking his scroll. "We'll have to get closer to the school."

Summer nodded, drawing, loading, and firing the arrow in one smooth motion. It sailed out of sight, down the hill to the south. A longer route but faster than going straight over the cliff when there was snow on the ground. 

Tai took a running start, folding his shields together and throwing them down. The two of them leapt on in perfect sync, and Summer activated the cores. They'd been practicing on Beacon's obstacle course for a year, but they'd been practicing on these cliffs for half their lives.

"Do you have the forge's number?" Summer shouted over the wind, leaning with Tai around a turn.

"No, but I've got the main number for the school. It'll be fine, they'll transfer us."

They started pulling to the left, a sign they had nearly caught up to the place the arrow landed. Summer pressed the release button, and in a moment it flew to her waiting hand. Fire again, further along the trail. Release. Fire. Release. 

In less than ten minutes, they had reached the top of the ridge that blocked Signal. The old fort stood below them, stone and snow painted orange-pink by the sunset and blending together. Only the lighthouse stood clearly against the sky. They were level with its roof—but more importantly they were in range of the communication dishes that had been retrofitted onto it to link Patch to the CCT Tower at Beacon.

Summer dialed on Tai's scroll as he folded up his shields, putting it on speaker. "Good afternoon, this is Beacon Tower. How may I direct your call?"

"The forge, please," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady and checking around for Grimm. It rang for what felt like forever before someone finally picked up.

"Beacon Forge."

"Hello, may I speak to Professor Carmine?"

There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line. "This isn't an exam results line, kid. You'll get your scores with everyone els—"

"No, we heard there was an accident this morning," Tai lied desperately. "We just want to make sure our friend is okay, please, it'll only take a second." 

"Oh. Okay. HEY CARMINE, GOT A SEC?" a pause, and a distant shout. "She's coming over."

"Thank you," Summer shouted, but they had already left.

"Carmine Eitri, full schedule, sorry."

"What? No. Is Qrow there? Is he okay?"

"Summer? Everything's fine, what's got you worried?"

"Summer!" 

They froze, staring down the slope where Claret's dark red dress stood out against the gold and pink snow. How had she seen them so fast?

"What about Raven? Are either of them hurt?" Summer demanded, turning back to the scroll.

"I think Zelenia's crew just got back, no one was injured. Everything's fine. Are you okay?"

"Summer, please!"

"Get the sled, Tai," she ordered, re-extending Gungnir with her free hand. He nodded, clanging his gauntlets together. 

"I'll tell you everything!" They froze, warily watching as she fell to her knees in the snow, panting and clutching her side. "I'll—tell you everything—please—don't run."

Summer hesitated, and turned back to the scroll. "Professor, please let me talk to Qrow."

"He's gone for the day. Summer, I promise, he's okay. But it's better if you don't call him yet, all right? Talk to your family first."

"...Okay. Thanks, Carmine." The line clicked, and she handed the phone back to Tai. Her mother still knelt in the snow, gasping for breath. Hair fell unevenly from her braid.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping her face. "I'm sorry I scared you, I'm sorry I hurt you—"

The adrenaline drained away, leaving Summer feeling tired and… empty. This was her mom, crying in the snow. She stepped forward, and offered her hand.

It took her a moment to notice, but she took it, and Summer helped pull her to her feet. "Mom." Her hand tightened. "What's going on."

She seemed every bit as sad and tired, but she answered as she hesitantly met her eye. "What's your favorite fairy tale?"

Summer sighed, letting go. "I guess I'm supposed to say the Story of the Seasons, but we don't know why."

Her eyes widened. "You got that far?"

"Oh, y'know, can't spend all our time studying," Summer shrugged with a tired smile. "But we haven't made any real progress since Halloween. I don't know what kind of code the story's supposed to hide, or whatever—"

"There's no code," her mother gave a pained smile. "The story's true."

The world seemed to hang, frozen. Summer blinked in confusion. "What?" she and Tai echoed each other.

"There are four women in the world with… incredible gifts. With magic. I know you probably don't believe me, Ozpin can prove it."

"...I believe you," Summer muttered. "Too freaking weird to be a lie."

"We—your uncles, Huang and I—most of your teachers at Beacon—the work we do for Ozpin is to protect the maidens and the people of Remnant."

"What's worse than Grimm?"

They turned to face Tai. He was frowning, eyebrows knitted together. "If you're protectors, what are you protecting everyone from? What's worse than Grimm?"

Her mom took another long, deep breath. "People are."

"...What do you mean?" Summer asked.

"Grimm are soulless. They can't choose to be any different than they are," she replied. "But some people have a choice, and they become killers anyway."

Summer's breath caught in the back of her throat, chest aching with fresh pain. "Are… are y-you saying Dad was…?"

She'd never seen her mom so tired. "There are others that want to steal the maidens' powers for themselves and use them to do harm. Your father saved the spring maiden, but he didn't make it home." She wiped her face again. "They—we—we thought they might retaliate so came to Vale where you two would be safe."

Summer shook her head, trying to push away the hollow feeling. "...What does this have to do with Qrow and Raven?"

"Ozpin found some problems with their paperwork. He thought…"

"He thought they were with...those people?"

Her mom deflated a little. "...I overreacted. Losing your father…" her voice faltered, and Summer stepped forward to pull her into a hug.

"I know. Me too." She rested her head on her mother's arm. "They're not spies. Or assassins."

She chuckled. "Carmine made that very clear. I might need to replace the speaker on my scroll. She seems to like Qrow in particular."

"Who are these people?" Tai asked. "The ones who are assassins and spies."

Her mother tensed, and when Summer looked up, she seemed pained again. "...The more you know, the more danger it puts you in. I'll answer any questions you have, but, please... just, consider waiting…" 

Summer glanced at Tai. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "I think we're okay, Mom," she said, breaking the hug but keeping one arm around her. "This is plenty for one day. ...I trust you."

"It's getting dark," Tai said, turning away from the ridge. "It'll be easier to walk to the cabin from here. Let's get inside."

The hollow feeling in Summer's chest seemed to echo with every footstep. Her worst fears were true— he hadn't been lost, he'd been taken. And the people responsible were still out there somewhere, working to hurt others. 

If she asked for more answers now, she wasn't sure what she'd do with them.

Next Chapter: Qrow—Empty Threat

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #strq #team strq #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #raven branwen #claret rose #huang xiao long #carmine eitri #follow the beacon

[splendidlyimperfect]

After Geralt's outburst at the dragon's lair, Jaskier makes his way back down the mountain by himself. But the night is dark, and the mountains aren't safe, and Geralt soon comes to regret his harsh words.

Chapter Summary: Jaskier wants a different kind of adventure with Geralt.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 Fandom: The Witcher Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Other Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, major injury, guilt, caretaking, geralt’s an idiot, i hurt jaskier a lot, it ends really fluffy and sappy, The Coast

-----

Jaskier wakes up curled against Geralt’s chest.

It takes him a minute to figure out where he is, and why he feels so relaxed. He’s woken from nightmares every morning since the attack, but today he feels… peaceful. There’s something else behind it, something warm and contented, and eventually he realizes that he feels safe.

He stays perfectly still as his body slowly accepts the waking – little hurts coming back piece by piece until he’s aching. He doesn’t move, though, because Geralt is still asleep, and Jaskier wants to stay here as long as possible. Geralt smells like woodsmoke, and his arm around Jaskier’s waist feels like a promise.

The moment can’t last forever, though, and eventually Geralt shifts and yawns, kicking the blanket off and rolling onto his back. When he sees Jaskier next to him, he looks surprisingly unperturbed.

“Did you sleep all right?” he asks.

Jaskier goes to reply, and before he can remember that he can’t speak, a raspy, “yes,” makes it past his lips.

Continue reading on AO3

He sits up immediately, bringing his hand to his throat as his heart starts to race. Geralt looks at him, wide-eyed, and Jaskier swallows around the pain in his throat as he tries again.

“Yes.”

It doesn’t sound much like a word, but it’s there.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Geralt insists, sitting up and reaching out to touch the bandage. Jaskier winces and Geralt makes an apologetic face. “Let me check it.”

Jaskier sits still as Geralt removes the bandage, making soft, apologetic sounds when it sticks to his skin. “It looks better,” Geralt says. He takes a cloth and dips it in the water he’s boiled, and uses it to dab at the skin around the cut. He repeats the motions with the bandage on Jaskier’s wrist, and Jaskier’s relieved to see that Geralt isn’t just trying to mollify him. The skin has started to knit together, and while it will leave a nasty scar – that Jaskier will obviously use for poetic reasons in his storytelling – it looks like it’s starting to get back to normal.

“Did you need more for the pain?” Geralt asks once he’s re-bandaged both wounds and dumped the dirty water behind their bedroll.  

Jaskier considers the question for a second, then shakes his head. Not bad, he signs. Hurt a bit to talk.

“Then don’t,” Geralt says sternly. “I know that’s very difficult for you.” Jaskier raises an eyebrow when he realizes that Geralt is teasing him.

Do you think… Jaskier trails off and only realizes it once Geralt pokes his thigh. Does this mean it’ll heal? My voice?

Geralt shrugs, and the guilt that he’s been carrying around flits across his face again. “I don’t know much about medicine. Not for… for humans, anyway.”

You are human, Jaskier tries to insist, but Geralt has already looked away to get something from their pack.

They spend the rest of the morning in a companionable silence, but Jaskier can feel the faint thrum of hope behind both of their movements. He’s tempted to try to talk again, but as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Geralt is right. He shouldn’t push it.

“To Oxenfurt?” Geralt asks once they’ve packed up camp. He kicks more dirt over the remains of the fire, then looks down at where Jaskier is still sitting on one of the larger rocks. “We should make it in three days. Maybe two, if you don’t slow us down.”

He’s teasing again, and it fills Jaskier with a warm sense of relief. I’m not the one we should be concerned about, old man, he responds, huffing out a quiet laugh at Geralt’s indignant expression. Then he looks over at the road, chewing his lip in contemplation. The late afternoon light streams through the branches of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and it makes Jaskier’s heart feel full.

Do we need to?

Geralt frowns. “Need to hurry?”

Jaskier shakes his head. Need to go, he clarifies. To Oxenfurt.

“You… don’t want to?”

Jaskier doesn’t answer right away. He tips his head back to catch glimpses of the bright blue sky through the trees, then brings his hand up to touch the bandage on his neck.

It’s getting better, he says eventually. I’m getting better.

“But what if—”

What if? Jaskier agrees. What if we get waylaid by bandits? Or a werewolf attacks us? Or – gods forbid – we find another dragon?

“I don’t understand,” Geralt says, settling down on the log across from Jaskier’s rock. His face is drawn in an expression of confusion that makes him look so much younger than he is.

I just mean… Jaskier sighs. Anything could happen. That’s just how life works, and I don’t want to spend it looking for a way to… to fix this. To fix me. He looks over at Geralt and gives him a soft smile. I’d rather spend it with you.

Guilt joins the confusion on Geralt’s face and he shakes his head. “Jas… why would you—”

I forgive you, Jaskier insists. I’m still angry and upset, and frustrated, and it isn’t fair, but none of it was your fault.

“But I—”

Jaskier shakes his head. A physicker isn’t going to be able to make this heal faster, and we both know it. He digs the toes of his shoes into the dirt. We’ll just have to wait and see. Geralt stares down at his hands, not saying anything, and Jaskier kicks a rock over toward him. Scars don’t make us broken, he says, smiling at the way Geralt’s eyes widen. I want to spend my life adventuring. With you.

“Why?” Geralt asks, voice low and uncertain.

You know why, Jaskier replies. At least, I hope you do. I know you’re dense sometimes, but you can’t possibly be that blind.

Geralt doesn’t answer, and for a moment, Jaskier is terrified that he read everything wrong, and that they’re back where they were before – frustrated and at odds. But then Geralt gives him a small smile – barely a quirk of his lips – and Jaskier exhales in relief.

“You offered something to me, before,” Geralt says as he stands up and moves over to Jaskier. He reaches out a hand and pulls Jaskier to his feet.

I did?

“Mm.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s hand. “You wanted to go to the coast.” Jaskier can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, but he forces himself to keep looking at Geralt. “Do you still want that?”

Yes, Jaskier says without hesitation. I do.

“Then let me take you,” Geralt says, and he pulls Jaskier in for a kiss.

~

Six Months Later

 “You’re going to fall from there and break your wrist again.”

Jaskier cracks and eye open and looks down from his sunning spot to see Geralt next to the cottage, arms crossed over his chest. Jaskier is only about five feet up, tucked onto a small grassy outcropping that’s perfectly situated to catch the last rays of the setting sun.

I’m fine, he signs. You worry too much.

“I worry exactly the right amount,” Geralt insists, reaching out as Jaskier sits up. He helps Jaskier hop down to the ground, then pulls him close and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’m all right,” Jaskier says out loud, voice rough and muffled by Geralt’s chest. “I’ve got you to take care of me.”

Geralt laughs and the sound rumbles in his chest. It makes Jaskier feel warm and special – he’s the only one who gets to see Geralt like this. He’s the only one who gets Geralt’s soft smiles, his ridiculous morning hair, his tipsy singing, his hands touching everywhere while Jaskier whispers, please, and, I love you.

“There are safer places to watch the sunset,” Geralt says. He pulls back and brushes Jaskier’s hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear. It’s grown out, almost to his shoulders, and covers most of the twisted scar that stretches down past his ear.

“Mm.” Jaskier kisses Geralt’s nose. “Like in your arms?” His voice is coming back, slowly but surely, and he played his lute for the first time last night, singing a quiet song that he’d learned many years ago. He’d pretended to ignore the tears in Geralt’s eyes at the sound.

“You’re ridiculous,” Geralt says. He’s highlighted by the late evening sun, hair almost tinged pink by the light, and Jaskier things he looks fierce and beautiful. “Does this please you?” Geralt asks. Jaskier sighs happily, closing his eyes as the summer wind ruffles his hair. Light sparkles off the ocean, and the only sound around them is the quiet cawing of seagulls in the distance.

“Yes,” he says, smiling at Geralt and pulling him down for a kiss. “It pleases me very much.”

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jasker #geralt of rivia #jasker #fluff #sappy fluff #happy ending #update #new chapter #complete work #my fic

[cassandras-nest]

Breakthru - a side story.

Disclaimer: this is something i wrote on a whim..

Mostly because of this picture

My first language is italian so, please, let me know if there are any mistakes..thank you.

(No beta-readed at all, just a quick grammar check, sorry)

Hope you'll enjoy ❤

Also, part 2 of this is in the making, as well as part 2 and 3 of IM

______

This was your first assignment as a professional assistant on a real set. You worked mostly in theatres since you started, costume and makeup department, but a friend of yours helped you in having a bigger one this time.

A famous band was shooting some videos for their next album, so here you are on a Queen production nonetheless.

Yes, you did know Queen, who didn’t? You weren't a fan per se but you enjoyed their music and the latest album was quite spectacular.

On your first day on the field, you thought you would be back in the trailer, randomly putting away some stuff or helping around, but instead, here you were, several days later, fixing the makeup on each every one of them. They didn’t wear it much, just for cameras, a bit of fixing powder, black eye pencil and some lip balm, it was quite simple like you used to do on male actors on your previous job. You already did Roger and Brian, but not Freddie, he didn't let anyone do that really; it wasn't personal, you knew that, he just wanted to do it himself, but he was nice, everyone’s been.

You were left with John. In the past days, he became your favourite: he was patient and calm, he respected your work, as the others too, and he was a good talker, very intelligent and humble so you found pretty easy working with him.

- Mr Deacon, excuse me.- He was talking to another crew member.

- Yes? Oh, hi. What can I do for you, dear? - quickly turning around to you, a little surprised, but still smiling.

Always so polite...and cute. - your mind quickly corrected you.

Ah! stop that thought.

But you can’t...

- Can I have just five minutes of your time? I have to check and fix your makeup - you answered him smiling a little.

- Oh yes, sure..five minutes, an hour, anything for you - He answered, joking a little..making you blush.

- So, hum... How....how do we do it?- he asked then.

- Oh, simple..just sit down and I'll do all the work, no need to go back to the trailer- you said politely.

Yes, he was easy to talk to and very much polite, but you always had to remember that he was literally your boss and not one of your friends. Last but not least he was older than you so you owned him some kind of respect, you thought.

Sure, you can't help it that you find him rather attractive, charming even, more than the others, it was just much more subtle.

- Stay still a bit...please - you said firmly.

He simply nodded and you slowly inspected his face to see any flaws or where to fix..and he was watching you, in some sort of daze it seems, making your work ten thousand times more difficult.

You were gently re-apply the powder with a clean sponge the moment he spoke.

- So do you like it, I mean what do you think? - gesturing around himself.

You froze for a second. Did he really ask for your opinion on their video?

- Well...- searching for the right words, you truly did love their idea, and he was...well, that was something you couldn't tell out loud...at least not in front of him.

- It's a very original idea, truly... I can't wait to see the whole video, y'know - smiling while fishing out his black eye pencil.

- This makes me, I mean ..us happy, at least we’re still doing our job right - he answered with an adorable grin.

Why he is like this, why so adorable? - your mind was reeling

- Now, just another thing and I'll leave you be, eyes up - you ordered showing him the pencil.. - Yes, ma’am - mocking a salute.

Oh..and he’s funny too... - your brain was starting to fail you.

You were closer to his face, enough to do your job properly, but by doing so you could almost feel his breath on your face, at least his eyes were up, so he wasn’t staring you like before but it still made nervous.

You were here for a job, no need to be silly - you kept on thinking.

- There, all done, now I won't bother you any more, Mr Deacon - you said taking a step back..but he gently stopped you before you could go too far.

- Please, call me John..- he said sweetly, looking at you, a small smile on his face.

- Oh, ok...John - blushing a little, avoiding his gaze as best as you can.

He released your hand and stood up.

- Well that was fairly quick..and no, you wouldn't bother me even if you wanted to - He sincerely told you.

You could have been wrong, but you thought you saw him winking a little.

Probably just your imagination..

 

- All..right, I better come back now - Still a bit flustered, you started to make your way back to the trailer...

- So..well, thanks for your patience..then - you told him, smiling a bit.

- Always for you, love - he answered you, smiling even wider now.

Leaving him there, you still could feel his eyes on you while you walked back to the parking lot where the set trailers were. You, however, didn't know what to think, was he making a move on you or he was just being polite? Well extremely polite...

The whole shooting lasted the entire day, but they had to finish some other details on the next one...

You were packing your things up, ready to go back home, have some sleep and come back to work early the next day when a knock of the trailer door startled you.

- Can i...? - you heard a familiar voice from the trailer door.

Looking up, you saw him. He was still dressed from the shooting but without the waistcoat, just plain jeans and the white shirt, now with the first three buttons open but still with the sleeves all rolled up to the elbows, the sight alone made you blush wildly, suddenly stopping what you were doing.

Damn, how was he so beautiful?....but you can't...you couldn't think such things...- your mind reminded you.

You realized you were still looking at him, so you quickly thought of an answer.

- Hi, do you ...do you need something?- you hesitated a bit.

He stood there, casually leaning on the door frame, an amused smile on his lips.

You felt your cheeks become a bit hot, again - what an absolute idiot you were.

- Nothing, I was just..just heading home and I wanted to see if everything was ok, I think I have somehow embarrassed you before...- his tone calm and sweet now.

- I ...no, not at all..everything's perfect, really - you assured him, shaking your head, still trying to regain some sense in the meantime.

- So - he started - yes..alright, see you tomorrow then - a half-smile on his face.

Once more, you smiled at him, you can’t help it, you liked how you were feeling and how it was so easy with him.

- Yes! You can't get rid of me so easily - cursing yourself soon after saying that

why were you like this - you absolute fool, happy, but still a fool.

 

- I don't want to...i mean..that's the best crew we ever had...- he told you, matter-of-factly...

was he blushing too? - impossible, you were so tired that you were starting to imagine things.

- Well, that's reassuring...I -quickly correcting yourself- We take our job seriously - faking a bit of confidence

- I can see that....- he told you, facing you even more, a smile never leaving his lips.

- If there isn't anything else...I'll go back to pack so I could finally go back home too - you told him, trying to look him in the eyes now.

a big mistake, a very big mistake, now you were blushing even more.

- No, no...yes, everything's alright - he faltered - goodnight then..- lowering his eyes a bit now, nervously smiling.

his behaviour seemed a bit off to you, again, what was he doing?

not that you hated the attentions, you loved it but still..you just wanted to understand why?

- ok, yes...right, ‘night - you told him, your voice almost a whisper.

the only thing you were sure about was that he made nervous, but in a very good way..and that was a problem.

There was a moment of embarrassing silence between the two of you. He cleared his throat, like he wanted to say something more, but he started to back away, his eyes still on you, and then turned to leave.

You watched him go for a while, unable to stop, mostly confused.

he, on the other end, looked back at you a couple of times before reaching his car.

That night when you went home, you found yourself much more conflicted than you ever been.

you really needed a good night sleep...

_______

Tags: @bluewillowmom @iwanttoridemybri @deakysgurl @spacedust1124719 @acdeaky @catch-a-deak @stormtrprinstilettos @dontstopmemeow @mydeakydoesme @culturefiendtrashqueen @captain--americanna @babyzellodeacon @sitonmyhot-seatoflove @myguardianmailman @deacytits   @deakys-chesthair @miamideacon @supersonicfreddie @bismillahnah @raven974 @chasingthespiders

A special thanks as always to @binkyisonline ❤

#my writing #john deacon fic #john deacon imagines #john deacon x reader #john deacon fanfiction #john deacon fanfic #breakthru #inspired writing #my inspo #writing inspo #probably this is so bad #i'm sorry

[kreekey]

Hey, You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away (Ch 2)

Chapter 1/?: Want to Hear a Secret?

Pairing: John Lennon & Paul McCartney (not romantic at all)

Genre: Drama, Angst

Words: 3461

Summary:   It’s the morning, a time of day that’s already always been unsavoury for John. He’s realized the heaviness of the encounter the night before. He’s realized a bit more about himself. This is not the time to have someone visit. It is not the time to have a spat with your best friend. It is definitely not the time to find a mysteriously revealing letter. It’s just the luck of John.

(See the AO3 Post for author’s notes)

John whined from inside his hotel room. Something resembling “I’m coming, jus’ hold on!” rumbled out of his mouth as he struggled out of the sheets. It must be morning now, he thought to his dismay. He must’ve woken up. It’s good that he was disturbed, as John was too annoyed by that to remember the night before. Yet.

The glance at the mirror didn’t help to cheer his mood, but he didn’t bother to change or even ruffle his hair correctly before ripping the door open. It was Paul, already fitted in a modest jumper over a collared shirt. John peered at him, now a bit more conscious of his half-dressed state.

“Mornin’, then,” Paul scoffed in amusement after looking John up and down. He glanced behind him and pushed his way into the room, saying, “Fuckin’ hell, John. I don’t stay for a night and you leave it a mess. You didn’t remember I was coming over this afternoon so we could finish writing the album?”

Grumblings and the sound of a door slamming shut were ignored as Paul began to sort the papers on the writing desk. Various letters, drawings, ideas, and song notes were being put aside. John threw himself on the bed, face first. Right, the bed…

After an incessant series of pokes to his shoulder, John grumbled and flipped himself over. The shades of daylight peeking through the curtains were enough to blind him. Paul stood over him, shaking his head, “You’ve got to get up, John. We’ve got three days to write three songs, and we’ve got to get something done today if we ever want to finish on time.”

“‘m tired, Paul,” John droned.

“C'mon, I stayed at the party later than you, and I’m alright. You’ve got the blonde to soothe you to an early sleep last night, didn’t you?” Paul’s teasing tone gave John a sense of dread.

A sudden warmth spread on his cheeks. John buried his head in his pillow, forgetting the macho manliness he’d like to exhume. “…no. Nothing happened, Paulie,” he lied.

“Not with the charming John Lennon?” Paul headed back to the desk, not bothering to face the bed. John sat up and watched as Paul swayed and hummed one of their new melodies, busying himself with the task of organization. One end of the room was carefree and light. John’s eyes snapped down to the sheets he sat on. They were unmade, dirty, and caused a crude memory to float back into his brain.

“Aren’t I married now, McCartney?” John asked in a low voice, every word feeling stuck to his tongue. He made sure to keep his eyes down.

Without skipping a beat, Paul laughed, “I don’t remember you ever really caring about marriage 'n all the junk like that before. I mean, I know you love her, but when Lennon’s faced with a pretty bird… What, did all the love songs get to yer head?”

A slight scoff came out of John disguised as a laugh. He turned to where she had been on the bed last night, recounting their actions in his head with a thousand-yard stare.

“Are you coming to write with me or not?” Paul called, still occupied with rummaging through John’s desk. “You can worry about your homing bird later. In fact, once we’re done, I’ll walk with you to the office so you can post her this letter you’ve written personally.” He held up an unfamiliar envelope above his shoulder, waving it to catch John’s attention.

The letter was snatched from behind with a strange intensity, almost ripping the paper in the process. Neither had even realized John had leaped out of bed yet. The event didn’t especially surprise Paul, but the appearance of a letter he had no memory writing certainly surprised John.

“This isn’t my handwriting, ye git,” John jeered after taking a moment to turn the sealed envelope over in his hands. It was addressed with exact precision to Cynthia Powell Lennon at their flat back in England. Eppy had arranged the address so all the fans wouldn’t find them. It was their little hideaway, the few moments John could ever make it home. It was one of those things Cynthia could privately have as proof that, yes, she was rightfully John’s. And John was supposed to be her’s at the end of the day, too.

“Well, it isn’t mine. Did you get someone to transcribe for you? You’re illiterate, you know,” Paul answered casually. When another joke was ignored, Paul spun back to his friend, arms crossed, to watch him tear open the letter with his teeth. “Let me see it, then?”

John drew back from Paul’s reaching hands as he processed the written words. “Oh, for fucks sake…” he breathed, his eyes glued to the paper. “Tell me you wrote this, Paul? To fuck with me, right?”

Hearing Paul’s answer of “No, Johnny,” left John feeling the headache and sense of impending doom grow stronger. He went quiet, re-reading the page.

“What’s wrong, John?” Paul extended his hands, gentler this time. “Just lemme read it.”

John flicked his eyes back at his mate, wide and calculating for a split second. His mind turned to static. No need to weigh the options.

The paper was ripped into quarters and it’s bits left on the ground. John wiped his hands on his pyjamas as if he had committed a crime and said, “Forget it, Paul. Just… forget it, yeah?”

“Sure, John. Er, if you’d like. Of course.” Paul answered, feeling in the dark again. He kept his lips shut, watching as John paced up and down the short room and huffed. There was nothing on the bed, yet John would keep sneaking glances at it. Paul’s fingers wavered, and his eyes wandered down to the tattered papers.

“I'll… we’ll write after I go freshen up. Alright?” John murmured before stepping into the bathroom, leaving Paul standing alone in the middle of the room. It seemed barren without John’s muttering. Paul heard the distant sounds of a shower turning on.

John will be back in a minute. And in a minute, John will be calm again. Paul still felt a twinge of uneasiness as he reached down and picked the scraps up.

Paul took care with arranging the four quarters on the desk, wondering if he was missing something crucial. As the paper became readable, it became clear the handwriting was of a stranger. Neat and bold, not the familiar messy informality of John’s. Paul would have no way of knowing this, but it was the writing of a woman who wasn’t even from this time. A character who knew more about them than they knew about themselves.

The letter began,

Dear Cynthia Powell Lennon (or maybe soon it’ll just be Powell?)

I’m sure you’re well aware of this, or you’ve at least heard the rumours, but you won’t allow yourself to believe it. It’s a shame. You deserve better, don’t you know? And John knows this, too. But he can’t stop himself. And he loves you, he loves you. You must know that. You remember that Christmas letter back in '58… “I LOVE YOU CYN, YES YES YES”.

Strange. No explanation for John’s panic. Paul was too engrossed to notice that the shower had gone quiet.

Those were still the good years. Do you believe that it isn’t anymore? That the shaky period right now will soon pass? I advise you to leave before he breaks your heart. He’s already done it, though, hasn’t he? You just wanted to dance with Stu. Your friend, Stuart. His friend, too.

Outside of Paul’s knowledge, John had dried himself off and put on proper clothes.

It wasn’t until Stu spun you around that you noticed John against the wall, watching. That pretty pair, he thought. You excused yourself. He didn’t talk to you for the rest of the night. He didn’t say much when he found you down in the basement, alone, and forced you against a wall. The slap hurt. Your cheek burned for the rest of the night and you went home. You didn’t see him for months.

Paul remembered when, once, he had noticed that John didn’t have that blonde bird with him anymore. He didn’t know Cynthia then. John said that they had a silly spat. It was an empty lie.

Yet he begged for you to come back, and you did so gladly. You remembered the days when you had just met him. He had charmed you out of your engagement with the man in America just by asking you to dance. He sang you “Ain’t She Sweet.” He was yours. But you knew in the back of your mind even then, didn’t you? You knew there had to be something just underneath the surface…

It was hard to imagine John Lennon - the tuff ted who acted as a bad influence for all the good boys in Liverpool - as someone who could romance a girl like Cynthia. John Lennon, who had ridiculed all the lovey-dovey dull romantics, until one day he had found himself in love. One day, he found himself singing for her. One day, he found himself marrying her. That very man was currently stopped in his tracks, just outside the bathroom door, hair still dripping. Every thought turned into a scream as he caught Paul reading the fucking letter…

So, it wasn’t John’s thoughts that moved him to wrangle his friend’s hair in one hand, forcing Paul to snap out of thought. Paul swore he could feel the hair ripping right off his head. John was dragging him, screaming something unintelligible. Paul couldn’t tell what it was, he needed John to let go. So Paul yelped and thrashed and tried to land any hits he could. It was all futile, of course. It was like a little boy holding onto his father’s trouser legs and crying for him not to go. John threw Paul down to the floor. He turned into a trembling slump trying to pull himself up. Gasping for air, brow furrowed, Paul wanted to understand why.

John turned away from the boy on the ground, fuming, seeing red. He was rubbing his face, his eyes, making his hands move in any way that wouldn’t have him beating Paul into the ground. He took a shaky deep breath, wanting to drown out the ragged breathing from behind him.

Paul was on the floor, one arm propped up, red in the face and panting. The papers had flown about in the chaos. There was a pang of shame in Paul’s chest, but he ignored that. The sense of resentment came much easier. It seemed more obvious.

John paced back and forth, not daring to look at the boy who was still on the floor. Fervent, panicked sounds emanated from John, talking to himself. Paul didn’t move a muscle, but he bit, “The fucks wrong with you?”

Without warning, John tramped towards him and for a second Paul braced himself. But if John wanted to fight, Paul wouldn’t shy away. There was still a slight feeling of relief when John only swiped the papers, making a harsh crinkling sound in his clenched fist. His stature towered over Paul, whose face was too blurry to make out. There was nothing that could stop John from howling roughly, “I can’t stand the way you nose your way into my fuckin’ life, McCartney! I never want to see you worm your way into my business again! I’ll fuckin kill you! I can't stand you!”

What could be done but to wince? John stood tall, jaw tense, spitting these horrible things in his best mate’s face. Sometimes Paul forgot he could do this.

“Aren’t you going to fucking say something, you goddamned divvy?” John let his voice go hoarse. “Won’t you at least fucking… say something?” He noticed his voice go off, a decibel softer. “Say something, Macca. I…”

For a second, John looked helpless again. Paul just breathed, already controlling himself. Breathed it all in. John couldn’t stand how Paul could just breathe and not let it get any worse.

“I…” John wheezed. “…Did you read it?”. He clutched the papers harder in his hands, wishing he could make it disappear.

“…Yea, mate. A bit,” Paul responded in a cool voice, as much as he could manage.

“How far did you…?”

“Not much - ” he cut his explanation short. If he said almost nothing, maybe John would calm down.

Stopping to stare at the wall, John’s thoughts went quieter. “Forget it,” he said sharply.

“O-okay.”

“It’s just…” John sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I get up to, don’t you? But, uhm, there are rumours. I think… I think it’s getting out. I get nervous every time Cyn opens the morning paper. Me and some bird snogging on the front page, you know?”

After Paul’s wordless answer, John stretched out his hand begrudgingly, eyes on the carpet but not on the man. They gripped each other’s forearms and Paul was pulled up. As soon as he was standing, Paul tried to shove his arm back to his side. John held on.

“You don’t think that Cynthia, erm, knows, does she?” John’s grip squeezed Paul’s arm, and suddenly they seemed close again.

“…what?” Paul spoke as soft as he could. If John would allow Paul to see him, see his eyes, maybe they’d understand each other. But he didn’t.

“Cynthia doesn’t know, does she? I mean, I love her. I just can’t help it when…” his voice trailed off. “C'mon, Paul, tell me.”

“John, I don't…”

“Just fuckin’ tell me. I mean, she knows I’m a Beatle, right? I can't… I didn't choose… I mean, I can’t help it. She’s the only one I’ve ever loved, Paul.”

“I - I don’t know, John. Honest.”

John paused. His grasp turned too tight for Paul’s ease of mind. “Did you tell her?”

Paul was left speechless by the very implication.

“You’re terribly nice to her, you know? Did you once let slip…?” he strained to say it.

“No!”

“Did you ever let anyone know at the party, though? The rumours spread quick and you know that, don’t you?”

“Course not! John, did you really think - ”

“Don’t you think she notices, though?” John’s eyes stuck to the floor. “How when we’d go to parties - you know, as normal people - that you’d always leave with Jane and I’d let Cyn go home early so she could get some rest… but of course, I never came home till morning, did I?

"She must notice that you… You’re so perfect, huh?” John gave a weak, weary chuckle.

'Johnny,“ Paul half-scoffed, believing none of this was happening. "You know that’s not true.” He stopped himself from slipping out we’re more alike than you think.

“Oh, shut up. Even your face… that’s why every girl wanted you, didn’t they? I thought I was used to that by now. You’re an angel, y'know that? When I stand next to you, even on stage, I just… I’m not as good, am I?” John’s voice almost seemed amused. Broken. “Everyone knows that. There’s a reason you’re the 'Cute Beatle’, Paul. I’m just the bad seed. A bad influence on McCartney’s kid, huh? Remember that?”

If John had braved to look at Paul’s face, he’d see one of concern. One of affection. The rest of Paul stood as stiff as John, not wanting to tell anything more than they meant to. Slowly, in a gentle voice, Paul soothed, “John, I never said…”

“You don’t have to,” John let go of Paul’s arm, pushing him away as he did so. Paul didn’t know why he was surprised when he caught John’s strong glare.

It was silent. What was to be said to help John see, to know that Paul wants him to be alright? There is no conspiracy. And Paul felt his chest twist in frustration because John was still acting like a child.

“I never said anything of the like, so why are you taking it up with me?” Paul said, words growing thick with disdain.

“C'mon, y'think I don’t notice the - the way you sneer at me?” John shook his head.

“Johnny - !”

“Get out,” John said lowly and his fingers began to twitch in his fist, reminded of the stupid piece of paper that started all this.

Paul let the silence hang there. It was suffocating.

“Get out!” John barked, harsher this time.“I can’t stand your bloody presence.”

“…I’m not leaving,” Paul croaked.

“What?”

Paul could see John’s expression clearly as he snapped his head up. It did not reassure him. Yet Paul didn’t waver from John’s fiery eyes, hissing, “You’re acting like a baby - ”

“You’re acting like a snob! A bleedin’ git! Because that’s what you are, McCartney! You’re some fucking idiot from Liverpool who made it to America because you’re the bass player in some dense band and you happen to have a pretty face!”

Paul looked blank, almost softened.

“You should’ve stayed in fucking Liverpool with Ol’ Jim McCartney. Have a happy little family because I think that’s what you always wanted.

"I don’t know why you followed me all the way through college and Hamburg and the fuckin’ Beatles. Like a puppy, infatuated with copying me - even my leather trousers. Picking fights with Stu just to get my bleeding approval, poor bastard. Y'know what? I think you’ll always be little goody McCartney’s kid. I don’t know how you ended up here!”

Paul scowled, “I’m yer partner! I did as much as you did to get here!”

“C'mon, Princess! You wrote some silly love songs and flash a smile and now you’re a king! But to be a Beatle… the people we were supposed to turn out to be… You’re not cut out for it, and you know it! Get back to the sweet little neighbourhood you came from, why don’t you? You don’t even like it here. You think I’m a bloody divvy, an idiot. Leave, then! Leave!”

These words echoed through their consciousness. Paul felt his throat hitch, and John’s eyes burned into his. The room got compact, every breath coming out hot and heavy. Every thought being pushed out by the need to make a mistake.

“Least I’m not fucking around on my own wife,” John heard, and it was like the walls came down. “You don’t even know your kid, Johnny.���

There was a small sense of victory when John’s eyes went helpless and lost. The fire went out for a split second before John realized who he was.

Before he could object, Paul was held up by his collar and knocked against the wall. Paul gasped, focused on John’s face, and neither said a word. Their stares killed each other. John’s lips were pulled into a thin line, and Paul hoped he’d second-guess himself. Still, Paul didn’t even struggle. He took the punch. The punch that was intended to knock a tooth out. It was solid, bony. Both felt the heavy thunk of Paul’s skull and the crack of his teeth. John watched it all unfold, ignoring the fact that he was doing this or that he was doing it to Paul. When Paul only inhaled a cool breath, wincing but keeping a strong face, John dropped him. He fell to the floor like a ragdoll and groaned. It was deep, gravely, and stubborn. Stubborn to make John feel like he just did something meaningless. Stubborn to tell John that it didn’t even matter.

John took control of his breathing again, staring down at the downtrodden Paul. He wished it never happened.

Paul looked up when the door slammed shut and he was alone again. He sat there, docile. If he stayed still, he hoped he could sink back into the ground and disappear. The sterile atmosphere tingled on his skin. His jaw began to get sore and he waited for his head to stop spinning so that maybe he could stand. Things were still fizzy. Anger settled in a pit somewhere in his stomach, not to be lashed out now. Sometime later. Later, perhaps. If the anger stayed. Sometimes it turned into a simple feeling of unfairness, of quiet bitterness. But somehow, right now, Paul worried about his attacker. No. His friend, his partner, who was stumbling through the streets and not thinking right. Who didn’t know what he was doing, who couldn’t control what he was doing. But it’s impossible to hold him back. John Lennon couldn’t help it. Paul felt a sharp pang of sadness for the lot of them.

#John Lennon #the beatles #Beatles #fanfic #drama #angst #beatles fanfiction #beatles fandom #john lennon angst #fanfiction #i dont know why i wrote this #Hey You've Got to Hide #writing #my work #my writing

[livelovelaug-h]

Irreplaceable you pt 2

Sam x reader

Warnings- cancer: sad times. Angst. :(( Grab the tissues still.

"So I decided to cut out gluten. That was like the first thing that I did. I would just like wake up in the morning and feel like totally fatigued. Just like, "eh."

You laugh. This could be good. Next girl.

"You know, um his job he doesn't really like talking about it." She laughs. ?

Next girl. "You know what's funny I have a cat named Sam."

"oh okay."

"yeah." Nope. "Thank you."

You're writing down on some papers a few notes notes: too slutty. Too needy. Too freaky. Too neurotic.

Next girl.

"So it says on your online profile you were Phi Beta Kappa?" You ask.

"I had no life in college." You laugh.

"And now you're a researcher for the National Institute of Health?"

"Yes. Still have no life. I'm just... I'm just tired of being alone. I'm where I want to be career-wise, and I really would like to settle down and have a family."

She adds: "sorry, Natural caretaker. Also overbearing neurotic."

"I'm the same way." You say. "Um... Let's set up a date."

"Okay. Um, just... If I could just be honest with you, um, I just don't quite understand why a man would send his assistant to pre-interview women. I just... I don't get it. "

"Yeah, um... Here's the deal." She could tell by your face.

"Sally! Please don't hold it against him!" She starts walking away.

"This is the craziest thing like ever!"

You started picking up the papers to go catch the girl but you ran into in the waitress. "Oh, shit. Oh, sorry! I'm sorry! "

"No, I got it."

"It's kind of a long story."

"I... I think I heard it. I mean, I know I shouldn't, but spying on the customers is like the only thing that makes this job halfway bearable. You are way more interesting than most. "

"I know, it's unusual." You say.

"Yo, dude, I think it's awesome. Like, my mom died seven years ago. I was in high school. And after she passed, my dad spent every night alone. And I tried to tell him, "Go out. Live life. Find someone." But not just anyone. The right person. "

"Exactly. Which is hard."

She laughs "Right. imean, do you have any like friends or anything that could like take him off your hands?"

"Yeah his brother but not anyone that would get this girl stuff."

"Right. I mean, the thing is, finding the right one is actually about volume. You should host a mixer, like, invite some people."

"Yeah, right. Nothing says "fun" like a mixer hosted by your dying girlfriend."

"I mean, I'm having an art opening... at this gallery space on Friday. you could use it as a front.You, like, wouldn't even need to be there. And... And an art opening could bring together some really interesting women. Like the right types. Not that there wouldn't be some people there with like interested in the free snacks, but... "

"I wouldn't want to..."

"No, honestly, dude, you'd be doing me a real solid."

you laugh. I'm y/n.

"I'm Mira."

~~~~~~~~~

"A hundred and fifty dollars? This place is a rip-off. I could make this myself one week tops." Myron says.

"Focus, please. We just need to freshen up Sam's look a little."

"Why is that again?"

" Trust me. Any woman that meets him

is gonna want to shop for him. The wrong one will put him in these. He wears all plaid all the time"

"What are you doing?" You ask myron.

"What?"

"You're the only one who gets to make bad decisions because you're dying? Terminal cancer. Put it on my bill. "

"You're just so cool with everything. I'm not cool with any of this.

"I've been dying longer than you have. You get better at it. "

"How?"

"Well, it's like this vest. At first it's, "Why is that old man wearing that horrible vest? Pretty soon I become the vest guy. After that, you realize that you'd hardly recognize me without it. I look comfortable in it. It's a part of me, so... you accept it. "

"I don't think I can ever accept you in that vest."

"No?" He asks.

"Try this on. I want to see what it'll look like on Sam."

"Okay."

"But let me pair it with some skinny jeans."

Laughs.

"Okay. I look three days younger. "

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

"These... Oh! They're cutting off my circulation. Seriously, my ankles are tingling, my feet are asleep."

"You look hot!"

"It's just... Can I ask what this is about?"

"Just some retail therapy. "

"Right. And where am I supposed to put my phone?"

"Now... Okay, this jacket is dry clean only. Which means, if I'm not around, do not put this in the laundry."

"I know what that means y/n."

"Oh. Shit. Laundry. All right, so... In here." You walk to the washer and he asks:

"Really?"

" Okay, so... "

" I know how to turn it on."

"Yeah, but colors, whites, delicates."

".. Right."

"The dryer sometimes gets stuck, so, uh, you just give it two kicks. you kick it twice Right here. Like that. And it will generally unstick itself."

Sam kicks it twice.

"Exactly."

"Uh, this dial is the minutes. It tells you how much time you have left.......... um, If the time runs out..... before the clothes are ready, you just... turn the dial."

"Hmm. Wait." You say feeling uneasy.

" What?"

[groaning] "are you okay?"

You start coughing and head towards the sink. You start throwing up.

"yeah I have that effect on women." You both laugh. "Too soon...?"

You say "yeah too soon."

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

Her and her nightly what ifs. It was adorable though.

"What if I had run away and joined a cult?"

"I guess I would have to join too."

"What if relationships between cult members was frowned upon?"

"Like an asexual cult?"

"Yeah. And you couldn't do an intervention and get me out because I was totally brainwashed."

"Hmm. Well, I guess I would have to become a rival cult leader, re-brainwash you. according to my philosophy, and then steal you away into my cult, which would be a sex cult."

You start dying with laughter.

"What if I were exactly like me, except I had really terrible halitosis. I would get you a mint. Or I would destroy the olfactory receptors in my nose so that I didn't care."

....."What if I die?

"I would...

never recover." You guys cuddle and go to bed.

~~~~~ the next evening~~~~~~

You Sam and Dean are all In the same room.

"Should I be able to tell that you're circumcised in those jeans? 'Cause I can. And there's not a lot of, uh, room for imagination or your penis in those pants." You says.

"I don't want to go to this. I don't... I don't know anything about art."

You: "Yes you do. Would you relax? She just wants people there."

"Is she hot?" Dean asks.

"Trust me, Dean it will be a target rich environment." Sam answers.

"See? Come on, man. Free food, cute girls." Dean says.

~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, let's do this. " you say.

"How exactly do you know this artist again?"

"We met randomly at a cafe, and we really bonded and...

" When?"

' I... I don't know. I just... I don't want to disappoint her.

"Are you sure you can't come?" He asks you.

I- I don't feel up to it. Trust me.

"Okay. W... Well I'll go, just as long as you stop touching my hair.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey. "

'You're adorable." You say and he huffs a laugh. "Stop that!"

"Oh, he can move in them!"

"No, not really Dean."

Sam to Dean "you know i got a ring right before she told me she was 'pregnant and then now cancer."

"I didn't. You know you could still ask her."

"yeah she'll love that." he says sarcastically.

"it might give her some hope."

"yeah, maybe."

~~~~~~~In The car with myron outside the art meeting ~~~~~~~~~~

"Is he mingling?"

"He's admiring the art."

"Sam doesn't care much about art. Nah, he's just hoping if he keeps himself occupied with an activity, no one will actually talk to him."

[Myron] He's very good-looking.

Can I say that and not be awkward?

"Uh, yeah that's my whole point. What about you and your wife? How'd you two meet?"

"At a party."

"We were in college. We got hitched three years later. "

"That's it? No story?"

"The story came after. Getting married. Life. Building a home. Kids, grandkids."

"Sorry".

"It's okay. I won't know the difference, I guess."

"I just want those things for Sam."

"I have to hand it to you." Myron says.

"What?

"You are stubborn. This might be the worst plan in the world, but you're committed to it, and I like that."

"Yeah, well, don't be too impressed. Hasn't worked yet."

"I don't know about that." He says looking into the binoculars.

"What?" You look into the building.

"Let me see that." Sam is talking to Someone. "No, that's just the girl whose show it is."

[Myron] "So?"

"So she's just doing this as a favor to me. "

"So?"

"So, she's not his type."

"Yeah?"

You: "Oh, no. Don't do the snorty laugh.

"Ugh! He did the snorty laugh. Oh, he does that when he's... "

Myron : "When he's nervous."

"Happy."

"Here. Estelle's hot chocolate." Myron says ans hands you a coffee cup. "It cures whatever ails you. Except cancer."

He cheers "to the things we do for people we love."

~~~~~~~ bedtime ~~~~~

Sam walks in your shared bedroom. "I know you're not really sleeping. Because I know how your breathing sounds when you sleep. Which is something you don't even know about yourself."

laughs

"I know everything about you, y/n, But I have to say, you still know how to shock the hell out of me."

"What do you mean?"

"The clothes. The mixer. "

" Sam... "

"For the record, I am not a dummy. I know what's going on. And I went along with you trying to help me because I know it's helping you. But setting me up? Are you serious?"

"Please. You spend your life fighting monsters and researching all the time. Also always Looking after people."

"Sam, most people don't find what we had... have once, much less twice in a lifetime."

"What we have? You mean, a relationship where one person is... is lying, and sneaking around, and manipulating?*

" It's for your own good!"

"You just tried to manipulate my life! Or you mean a relationship where you have such a low opinion of me, that you truly believe that nobody else on the planet would ever fall for me."

"Obviously not. But that's the whole point!" You're gonna get swarmed, and it's gonna be impossible to find the right person!"

"I already found the right person! Or I thought I had." You

"Y/n/n's, I didn't... You know I didn't mean that. Hey, come here. are you okay?" He hugs you in the bed.

~~~~~~~~~ Sam and Dean sitting in the kitchen~~~~~~~

Sam: "What is she thinking? Does she think I'm completely clueless with women?"

"Dean?"

"No."

"Yeah? No.

" Wait, what?"

"you've just never seen me in action."

"Hm no, no and I never want to."

"What do I do?"

"Look, all you can do is be there for her, however you can. i mean, look, she's got to be scared out of her mind. And right now she needs to know that the worst thing happens.... That you are gonna be okay."

You and Myron go out bird watching. He speaks up : Are you ready to drop this mishigas with Sam?"

"You think I should?"

"Here's what I know: You don't have as much time as you think you do.*

" I don't?"

"No."

"What are you trying to say?" You ask heart racing.

"I'm not saying it, the Buddha did."

"I didn't realize you were Buddhist."

"I'm not, but it stuck with me. And it's true for you. It's true for every person on the planet."

[Myron] I need some snacks. Could you...

Oh. I can't believe you eat those things." You say handing him a bag of cheese curls.

"They're tasty."

"The chemo has clearly destroyed your taste buds."

"Try one".

"They're disgusting."

"Keep going. You get to tasty."

[crunches]. "The second bite is actually not as bad."

Myron: Good for you, too.

~~~~~ later at night~~~~

"Okay. Someone... who hikes." Sam says randomly.

"What?"

In the future, if I ever did this again, which I probably won't, but if I did, and if it makes you feel better to know, it would be with someone who hikes."

" We never hike."

'Because you hate it."

"That's not true."

"We took that one hike up Bear Mountain Six years ago, you complained the entire time."

"That's because hiking is boring. It's basically walking. And walking is something you do to get somewhere. Hiking from your car up a hill and then back to your car is totally pointless."

"Okay". he laughs.

"Duly noted." You say. "Hiking.

"Thank you."

"What else?"

" I like dancing." You scoff.

"I would like to try ballroom dancing classes. You know, like the fox-trot or the waltz, even though... "

"It's lame."

" I know you think it's lame."

''The fox-trot? Seriously?''

" Yeah!"

"How about something just moderately nerdy like swing."

"Is this person for you or for me?

"Okay.".

" Good. I get it. I'll update your profile.

"What profile?"

"This profile."

"God."

"You're welcome".

Next morning on a walk--

"So you've been pretending to be me?"

"you're sick you know that?"

"so?"

"okay so how do you like this profile picture?"

"you took a picture of me sleeping??"

"hey come on I've worked really hard on this. No? You don't okay fine. Want to take another one?"

"yeah let's take another one."

"Okay" he sits down on the bench and smiles. You press the button and bammm.

"what do you think of that?."

"oh it's good!"

"uh huh."

"do it in black and white."

Sam: "are you coming to bed?"

(glass shatters) "oh."

"y/n??" He walks in the room. "Y/n what is it?"

"It's broken."

" Oh, shit."

" It's broken."

"It's okay. We can just... We can get another one. It's fine."

'No, we can't! You gave it to me when we were kids.." you cry but he picks you up and takes you to bed. He holds you all night and lets you cry. He knows this can't be easy.

To be continued

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