i bet people are going to want a box set of him

;settle down (m)

pairing— min yoongi x reader, roommate! yoongi
genre/warnings— smut, angst, fluff, slow buuurrrn, enemies to lovers
words— 14,930

:: summary— An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…

note— this is a remastered version of the originally story I wrote called ‘and july’ (found here) that I wrote for suho back when I started this blog, albeit slightly (very?) different.

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summersaltturn  asked:

"Have anyone told you you have the most intimidating nostrils I've ever seen?"

“Yeah, I won an award, junior year,” Derek answers, frowning at his new IKEA (bought and built, all in a soft Henley sweater; Stiles knows, he supervised) book-shelf, like he hasn’t just finished a seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts. A seven hundred page tome on Egyptian artefacts alone.

Derek Hale: epic nerd and assembler of easy-to-build IKEA products. Of course, Stiles thinks, cursing his stupid Professor and DIY kinks. Why not? The worst part is, he doesn’t even think those kinks are sexual. It’s just….a thing. That he has. A Derek thing. The Butterflies That Live In His Stomach were trying so desperately to move on with their lives, too. They’d shopped around. Hired a real-estate agent. They were ready, goddammit!  

Derek settles on a book - Stiles is pretty sure it also has the word ‘artefacts’ in the title - and sighs, all feigned nostalgia, and glances over his shoulder. “It was a golden nose, too. Across the bottom it said,” he pauses, grinning, “Stiles Stilinski needs to get a life.”

Stiles opens his mouth, clutches his chest, because rude much? Is it his fault Derek’s nostrils belong in some kind of anatomy museum? Is it his fault his Saturday nights are spent playing video games in his underwear, when his week days are spent chasing down monsters and researching things like how Scott and Erica managed to contract chicken pox when stabbing them does, like, nothing? (Except get Erica excited because she’s a beautiful, terrifying weirdo.) The moment he tries to tell Derek this, however, a copy of - is that Pride and Prejudice? - is thrown at his head. 

Stiles doesn’t know if he’s more offended when Derek rolls his eyes when it misses him, or the concerned look that crosses his face when the book sails past him and lands in an empty pizza box, like Derek is worried if it’s okay or not. 

And to think, Stiles was going to screw up his courage and finally invite Derek to see a movie this weekend. In an actual theatre. Where people go to be normal. Well, the laugh is on Derek because Stiles is going to buy the big popcorn and he’s going to enjoy it all on his own. 

Yeah, that’ll show him. 

~

“Has anyone ever told you your eyebrows could star in a disturbing kid’s movie about caterpillars?” 

Stiles is drunk. No, he’s wasted. Hammered. Loaded. Completely and utterly shit faced. Which is probably why instead of ending up on his ass on the floor, Derek just pinches the bridge of his nose, tips his head against the back of the couch and says, “what.” Not even a hint of inflection.

This dude, Stiles thinks, and then laughs because, ohmygod, Derek is this dude now. Not that dude or whoa, what are you doing crawling through my window, dude? but this dude. And that’s kind of beautifully heart warming, in its own way. 

Really, Stiles should write into Hallmark. It could be a trilogy. A Gay Trilogy ™. Bisexuals on ice. Except, without the ice because Stiles doesn’t know how to skate. Can Derek skate? Stiles totally bets Derek can skate.   

Speaking of Derek, he’s got this little crinkle on his forehead now, right between his eyebrows, and man, they really are very nice eyebrows. Animated but nice. A little dramatic but nice. Murderous but nice.

“What,” Derek says again, looking more confused than annoyed by the second. Stiles really wants to kiss him.

Instead, he stares. Stares and stares and stares.

Shit.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, he begins laughing uncontrollably and before he knows it, he’s clutching his sides and has his face pressed against Derek’s chest, because the hilarity is killing him. 

Because this is them now. Drinking peach-snaps at Derek’s loft, on a couch filled with throw pillows. Throw pillows. One is even soft and pink and frilly and another has a picture of the pack on it. Granted, no one is looking at the camera but Derek, Boyd and Kira and Derek is not so much looking at the camera as yelling at Stiles (holding the camera) for eating his secret stash of cookies, but it’s nice. It’s a nice picture. There is a plain black pillow too, of course. Somewhere. Stiles might be sitting on it, actually. He figures one can only expect so much when it comes to sour-wolves but Erica glued little cat ears on it last week and Derek said nothing. Fuck, he’d even smiled.

It says a lot about what a secret softie Derek is when it comes to vulnerable, drunk-ass people, because he doesn’t push Stiles away; just lets him laugh and laugh until he passes out, drooling on his chest. 

When Stiles wakes up, Derek’s sweater is pretty soaked through but he hasn’t moved an inch. He does, however, tell Stiles he snores like a deranged goose and that he owes him a pastry later.

He doesn’t even ask for a specific kind, Stiles chastises in his head, falling back to sleep. He’s in love with a pastry idiot. 

~

“Do you know when you smile, you brighten up the whole damn room?”

The question clearly catches Derek off guard because he falls head first…into a duck pond. 

Stiles’ first reaction is to jump in after him - he hates to admit it, but he gets a little nervous around water when Derek is with him; there have been several incidents where he’s unconsciously grabbed Derek’s hand in order to drag him away from pools and, one time, a very large puddle - but when Derek emerges, wearing his someone is about to die face, Stiles can’t be held accountable for the way he falls to the ground because, yup, that’s a tiny, outraged duckling perched on top of Derek’s head.   

“Oh my god,” he yells, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs in the air. He feels like a kid, grabbing his stomach, water practically pouring from his eyes. This was, quite possibly, the best day of his life.

Normally, Derek would be yelling threats - several, in fact, some in Spanish because he’s a show off - but he just stands there….in the middle of a fucking pond. The duckling is still sitting on his head, like he or she plans to set up home there and it’s so adorable Stiles thinks he actually coos out loud.

Still, Derek still doesn’t say anything. Not even when Stiles coos again, very, very deliberately. (And Scott said his middle name could never be Danger, pffft.) Stiles can’t actually guess what Derek is going to do but he doesn’t care. He looks a strange cross between wanting to murder someone - namely, Stiles - and a little kid who was told they couldn’t get a puppy only to get one on Christmas day anyway. 

Mostly, he just looks lost. And wet. Very, very wet. Somewhere out there, someone is playing It’s Raining Men and Stiles wants nothing more than to share this glorious moment with them. He’s just in the process of taking out his phone to at least snap a photo to send to the pack when - 

“Did you mean it?” Derek asks, and man, those water droplets just keep on running, don’t they. 

Stiles grins. “Did I mean for you to fall into a pond and adopt a new feathered friend? No but I think we can all agree-” 

Stiles.” 

Derek growls and it would be effective - at least in getting Stiles to help him out of the pond - if it wasn’t for the fact his ears were turning a little pink. A lot pink, actually and - 

Oh.

Sitting up, Stiles drags his butt over to the edge of the pond.

“Yeah,” he says. “I meant it. I mean, smiles can’t literally light up rooms, I know that, but when you smile it’s like…” He sighs and flaps his arms, suddenly nervous, hitting Derek in the process. The duckling practically glares at him and Stiles briefly wonders if he has competition here. 

Right. Better make this good then. He clears his throat. 

“It’s like, everything just makes sense for a little bit, you know? I look at you and it’s not that smiling is rare for you, at least not anymore, but it’s still pretty thrilling to see it and when you do I’m like, that’s some quality shit right there but then I get confused because it’s like, do I wanna punch it? Kiss it? Pet it? Who knows. Usually it depends on what you’re wearing.” 

Derek blinks and Stiles groans because, yeah, he just said that out loud. In real time. To Mr McGrumpy himself. Who is currently not reacting.

Great.

“Uh, I mean,” he attempts to correct himself but it’s too late. Derek is already slowly pulling him in and pressing his lips to his in what is the single most innocent, chaste kiss of Stiles’ life - because, you know, duckling and head movements - but somehow, it still manages to be perfect. 

“Nice,” Stiles whispers, after, waggling his eyebrows.

Derek snorts and kisses him again.

~

“Turn it off,” Derek whines, nuzzling further into Stiles’ neck. “This is why I leave my phone in the kitchen. Like we discussed.

Stiles tries to swat him, ends up kissing his temple. Sue him, he’s tired. “Says the person who can afford to leave their phone in the kitchen. We don’t all have supernatural hearing, asshole.”

Derek whines again. “You also have the worst taste in ringtones.”

Stiles gasps, suddenly sitting up. Well, he tries to. When your boyfriend is made of muscle and is half lying on top of you, it makes moving a lot more difficult. Not that Stiles is really complaining. Much. “I’ll have you know Bushes of Love is a Star Wars parody classic.”    

Derek rolls his eyes, Stiles can feel it, says, “just answer it, sweetums.” 

“Ugh,” Stiles grimaces, “I already told you I’m sorry for the pet-name thing. It was an accident!”

“Calling me your ‘slutty buddy’ in front of your dad was meant as a pet name?”

“It sounded better in my head!”  

Derek groans and wraps an “exasperated” arm around Stiles’ waist. Oh. So. Exasperated. Stiles grins. “Answer. Your. Phone.” 

Stiles finds his phone on the fifth try.

He has fifteen missed calls, all from Erica. Texts too. Every single one is a link to some article online, followed by a string of heart and eggplant emojis.   

Young Love and the Ugly Duckling’,” Stiles reads, clicking on the link. “Uhhh, Derek?” He prods him. 

What.” 

There’s a picture of us in the online Beacon Gazette,” looking into each other’s eyes, like a pair of love sick fools, Stiles wants to add because, wow, is he really that obvious when he looks at Derek? To be fair though, Derek isn’t much better and he is the one with an angry bird on his head.

He prods Derek again and again until he finally gives in, makes him look at the phone. 

“Huh,” he says, blinking at it. “Fred looks pretty pissed that I’m kissing you.” His face breaks out in a smug grin and Stiles rolls his eyes. Hard. 

“You are aware Fred is a duckling, right?” 

“Yes.” Derek grins harder, showing all his teeth, although his cheeks do colour slightly when he catches Stiles’ eye. 

Stiles sighs, totally not fond. “They couldn’t have come up with a better title, though?” he asks, brandishing his phone. “The Ugly Ducking, really?” 

Yeah,” Derek says, frowning. “I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as to call you ugly.” He laughs and Stiles smacks him across the chest with a loud, “hey!”

They both turn back to look at the picture. 

“We look so stupid,” Stiles whispers, shaking his head and biting his thumb. We fit, he thinks. We look like we fit. 

Leaning in, Derek smiles at him. “We do,” he agrees, burying his face back into the warmth of Stiles’ neck, muttering something about home and content and stupid Star Wars parodies.

Stiles snaps a selfie, captions it goals, and sends it to Erica. 

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 7/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Mentions of past self harm, child neglect, transphobic comments !!! ( I am not transphobic, but my series on the whole is triggering and these warning(s) are here for a reason.) SLURS ARE IN BOLD

A/N: here is your angsty richie chapter - KINDA RUSHED BUT ITS FILLER

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

Richie found himself alone in his car, driving home at roughly 8pm that night after his adventurous day with Eddie, his cravings for the cigarettes only growing stronger by each given second but his refusal to disappoint Eddie lurked on his shoulders. He was going to change for the better, just for Eddie.

His hands gripped at the leather wheel, his red truck gliding down the familiar roads with the faint radio humming along in the background. The melody intertwined itself through the vehicle, one of his favourite artists playing to soothe his road anxiety that he’d keep a secret.

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Oh My

Pairings: Avengers x fem! Reader

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: Bad pick-up lines (that I did not come up with), bad language, kinda dirty? Really lame. Idk?

(A/N): I have no idea why I came up with this, but I did. So, yeah. If you see a pick-up line/ dirty remark that belongs to you, message me and I´ll gladly credit you.

Summary: Seven times that you´ve flustered your teammates just for the fun of it and that one time it all backfired on you.

Originally posted by models-in-motion-gifs

“It’s amazing how you don’t even have to open your mouth to give me a headache, Stark.”

Wanda sighs, burying her head in her hands at the kitchen aisle as the brunet steps into the room with a loud whistle and a teasing smirk at the sight of you in a sports bra and the ridiculously expensive and, quite frankly, short shorts he got you for Christmas as a joke.

You chuckle from where you sit on the counter by the stove, waiting for your coffee to brew as you watch the exchange.

He looks mildly offended at her statement, but is quick to regain his cheerfulness once he catches whiff of the freshly brewed coffee and the pancakes Clint made earlier.

“Whatever you say”

He strolls out of the kitchen once more and she smiles, feeling your fingers as they find their way to her chin to coax her to look up at you. Your half-lidded eyes are dark, and she feels her stomach do a flip.

“You said you have a headache?”

“Did I now?”

She quirks a delicate brow at you and you laugh.

“Did you know that sex is an utterly delightful way to cure a headache?”

She bites back a gasp, gaze briefly straying from your own pair of eyes to your lips before she schools her features once more and leans back in her chair.

She was not going to go down without a fight

“Not happening”

“The training room is empty”

You waggle your eyebrows at her suggestively, chuckling lowly at the blush that coloured her cheeks before you decide to turn back towards the counter and pour yourself some well-deserved coffee.


Incredible speed and stamina were part of the Super Soldier package Steve signed up for decades back, you know so much.

So, naturally, you didn’t worry much when your target decided to make a run for it and dashed towards the nearest highway.

And, instead of chasing after the duo, you set into a casual stroll towards a nearby parked car, fully intend to borrow it for one hour or another.

By the time you found your partner, at the other end of the considerably large city, he had tackled the wheezing man to the ground and was cuffing his hands behind his back.

“Well done, Captain”

You smile at him as he shoves the male into the back seat, grounding out a slightly breathless “You couldn’t have driven any faster?” when he settled in the passenger seat himself.

“Why, Captain, I didn’t want to break the law on sacred American soil.”

His groan is accompanied by him rolling his brilliant blue eyes, a wave and a dismissive

“Just drive”

It’s a request you comply with, yet not before you send a charming smirk his way.

“As you desire, Captain. Although I must say that when I leave people out of breath, it is by far more pleasant​.”

Your coy smile and wink do nothing but worsen the flush that spreads across his cheeks like a wildfire, the delightful, embarrassed silence that reigns the car after that, lifting your spirits considerably for the rest of the day.


Bruce was frustrated, his jaw in a tight lock and his short-clipped nails digging into the palms of his hands as he stared at the unfinished work before him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Your warm breath flutters across his neck and he shivers, leaning forward slightly​ in a futile attempt to hide the goosebumps that sprung up all over his arms, from you.

“I’m just frustrated that I still can’t figure out how to solve this problem”

He points at the papers before him, sitting still as you peer over his shoulder to inspect his notes.

“Well, I am afraid I cannot help you with that, darling. I can however offer you some delicious coffee and donuts”

You outstretch your hand and place both the box with the donuts and the coffee onto the table, careful not to spill any onto his work.

As much as you loved to wander the line between absolutely deadly and mildly dangerous on missions, even you knew that vexing Bruce of all people was an incredibly stupid idea.

He carefully pries the box open with a grateful nod, a smile reaching his face when he discovers his favourites inside.

“Do you want one?”

He keeps his eyes trained on you and the box tilted as you step closer to the table and into his line of sight, smile on your lips.

“You sure?”

“They're​ best shared”

His answer is as short as it is sweet, and you cannot help but agree as you take one.

“Some of the best things in life are”

Your lip twitches teasingly, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you lean in slightly closer.

“I figured you wouldn’t take kindly to me borrowing one of Tony’s suits to drag you out of your lab-cave to eat with me, so I decided to bring the food to you.”

You set your trap, now you just had to wait for a response

“I would probably tase you”

He states calmly, taking a bite

Perfect

“Of all the things I partake in, darling, anything to do with electric shocks is not one of them”

You grin charmingly his way, silently daring him to make a move and carry the conversation further.

“I’ll keep it in mind”

He laughs, nervously scratching at his cheek while your grin only widens.

“I do, however, fancy the occasional cuffing, if you’re keeping note of my pleasures for further use.”

You snort a laugh at his deep flush, quickly finishing your donut and making your way out of his lab, already in search of your next victim.


“Did you shoot someone today, Katniss?”

“No”

His gaze doesn’t stray from the target as he fires, hitting bullseye with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Are you certain?”

“Positive”

“Really?”

He sends you a confused look over his shoulder, watching the smirk on your face with furrowed brows.

“ ´Cause you hit my heart with one of those arrows right from the moment I saw you.”

“This one sucked bad, [Y/N]!”

He laughs

“Indeed, it did. Although I have to say that I would prefer a completely different scenario where you suck.”

His barking laugh is as amused as it is flustered, his hand reaching out to scratch at the back of his head.

“I set myself up for this one, didn’t I?”

“Kind of, yeah.”


“This is lame…”

Tony groans, burying his head in his folded arms while Fury sends a pointed glare his way.

“I’d rather drive a bullet through my leg than do that!”

The billionaire points at the screen behind the director and groans again for emphasis, while you take your chance and lean in closer to his ear.

“I could thrill you in different ways if you desire, Stark”

He chokes on air and you smirk, ignoring Fury’s unamused expression entirely.

Too easy


“Closer, [Y/N]”

“I’ve been waiting decades for you to say that, Romanoff.”

“I need you-”

“You need me?” You lick your lips, teasingly shifting closer to give her her desired distance.

“I swear to god, [Y/N], I will kill you”

She avoids her green eyes from the lightbulb she was changing, from her position on your shoulders, and sends a glare your way.

You meet her gaze with your steady, unwaveringly teasing one and she finds it ridiculous how you manage to give her a smouldering look even from your current position.

“You are no fun”

“I can be plenty fun

She retorts half-heartedly, sliding down your back gracefully, while you turn to regard her with darkening eyes.

“My, my, Romanoff. Is that so?”

You lean in closer, mildly surprised when she copies the motion and meets your amused pair of [E/C] eyes.

“I can give you a show and tell later”

Two can play that game, huh?

“Why tell”

You inch impossibly closer, voice regressing into but a seductive purr.

“When you can show me just fine”

Your lips skim her earlobe and she shivers, a blush tinting her cheeks for the friction of a second before the look of defeat sets upon her features.

I win


“That was kind of lame, Barnes”

You throw a water bottle his way and watch him catch it with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“Sorry I didn’t go hard on you, doll.”

You smirk into your own bottle

“Is that the first time you had to say that?”

He looks puzzled for a second before realization sets in and he chuckles, deep and throatily in a way that only brightens your already good mood.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should fix your problem”

“Oh, is that so?”

You inch closer

“My room is nearby, James

“Who said I need a room?”

“Smooth, Barnes.”

The smirk on his face is wide and daring, mirroring your own so perfectly you actually wonder whether you will be able to crack him.

“Part of the package, doll.”

Brilliant

“Mind showing me the whole package in my room?”

You let your eyes wander to his lips for emphasis, catching a glimpse of the flush that crawls up his neck with barely contained self-satisfaction.

Bingo


“Sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.”

You sigh and settle down next to Natasha, momentary surprised to see a smirk cross her face.

“I could have sworn that’s what you said yesterday in Stark’s room”

You choke on the coffee you had been nursing in your hands and face her with a disbelieving look, while Tony scoffs.

“Speak for yourself, Romanoff. If she´d complain, she´d complain about Capsicle or his buddy. I bet those two veterans can´t even get it up anymore.”

His crude joke is shot down by Bucky´s barking laugh

“That´s brilliant coming from you, Stark! Do I need to mention that we´ve got 80 years of practice and can literally rock her world?”

Ever so calmly you put down your cup of coffee and reach out to cover Peter´s ears. The poor boy was but a blushing mess by now, his current predicament going completely unnoticed by the team.

“Please, boys! I think we all know that none of you hold a candle to me! I mean, I don´t even have to touch her!”

Wanda cuts in, smirking triumphantly at the sputtering males. Your own cheeks flare up, Peter´s cool hands pleasant on your burning skin when he reaches out to return the favour and cover your own ears.

“Oh, please! [Y/N] would much rather be with someone who never misses, if you know what I mean!”

Clint chirps in with a grin, sending you a wink over the table.

You take it as your cue to leave, dragging a flustered Peter along and completely missing the team´s self-satisfied smirks on your way out.

“That´ll teach her…”

Imagination Lane // “Imagine This” Scenario #2: Bill Skarsgard

Originally posted by thebeautyandthatbass

(Warning: This is slightly long for an imagine scenario, but I couldn’t help but write this out. I’m also in a sappy Bill mood, and I needed this as soon as the idea struck me last night as I laid in bed trying to get to sleep. Shame on me lol.)

If you want to know what The First Fight Box is and what it entails, click here.

Imagine This: You and Bill have entered into your first serious argument as a married couple. A few months back, on your wedding day, you both created what you called “The First Fight Box,” and slipped letters inside for you both to read – when the time came. 

Today, you both have agreed to a small cease-fire within your heated argument and decided to open the box…


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Soulmates? Soulmates. - LAMP

Summery: So, I hit 100 followers a while ago and wanted to do something so here’s a Soulmate AU (where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your skin) as well as a Human AU.  

Warnings: none I don’t think, minor self doubt + hatred but not that much.

Word count:  2,643

Part 2 ->


Virgil had always been a ‘peculiar’ child, even though his mother told him otherwise, he knew he wasn’t normal in a few ways. One of those ways was that he had three soulmate sayings tattooed on his skin. One saying was normal, two was unusual but not unheard of, three was even less common.

The first saying is on his hip, diagonally on the right side it says “Have I met you before?” in a big, rushed print. Another was on his right shoulder, being on his back he’s admired this one less and relied on his mother at first to tell him what it said, “Shit, sorry, oh god.” not the best saying to have your mother repeat back to you at a young age but he promised not to say it, especially not in class; the writing was small and elegant. His last was on the left side of his ribs, the font was neat and almost printed, “Oh, it’s you.” Virgil couldn’t tell how this would be said, but his worst fears was that it was negative.

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6: “Marry me” (part 2 from the 5/6 request, also andreil!)

It takes 4 months and 2 weeks to organize Matt’s proposal to Dan. 

Neil knows because he’s been pretending to understand most of what Matt says to him for 4 months and 2 weeks.

It’s not that he’s not happy for them, it’s just that being told to celebrate love feels like being told to celebrate the way the world turns, or the gravity that continues to pin us like the bar on a rollercoaster seat. Neil celebrates love by staying alive to see it. He celebrates it by keeping it.

He looks at prospective rings and says they’re fine over and over again. He dutifully tells Dan nothing even when she asks outright. He answers the phone when Matt calls him in a panic at midnight and says “what if she says no” so many times that Neil hands the phone to Nicky.

It does make him think though, about Andrew. Without meaning to.

He doesn’t think of it as marriage in his head (to Neil, marriage has always been something that swallows you like quick sand). Tying himself to Andrew though — having something legally binding like Neil Josten on his documents, like their names on the lease, like his contract with his team — that means something to Neil.

Being with Andrew is the thrill of being in the game, but having it on paper would be like points blinking onto a scoreboard. He knows he’s scoring now, but he wants the crowd to know too. He wants this win to stick.

He doesn’t mention it because it doesn’t matter, ultimately. Neil doesn’t need other people to tell him that they love each other.

Andrew scoops Sir off Neil’s lap and smuggles him to his side of the couch. He pours one bowl of sugar crisp and one bowl of granola in the morning. He catches Neil’s sleeve before he goes for a run and uses every ounce of 5 AM energy he has to hold Neil’s eyes. Neil knows how he feels.

But he really does support Matt and Dan, separate from the way he’s scared of hospital rooms he won’t be allowed into or the box on a form that labels them ‘roommates’ like that’s anywhere close to enough.

The engagement lines up with a weekend that all the original foxes are scheduled to meet up on, scraped together by Matt’s meticulous hands and Nicky’s constant phone calls.

Andrew isn’t interested in going, but Neil asks, so. They’re the first ones there.

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Surprise - you get a bonus Hiveswap developer interview today!

Hello there Hiveswap and Homestuck fans, Ash here! Now, I know what you’re thinking: “What madness is this? Ash said there’d only be *one* Hiveswap development team interview per week going forward! And he said they would be on WEDNESDAYS! This isn’t a Wednesday!”

Right you are, and that’s exactly why surprises are so much fun! Now, last week I mentioned that the next interviewee would be our superstar UI designer and all-around graphics guy Tauhid. Our interview with him will still be going live this week on Thursday, so definitely look forward to that, but today we’ve got another talented team member in the hot seat: Tom Hunt, our lead programmer and the prime coding whiz in charge of things on the technical side of things! Take it away, Tom!

Introduce yourself to the fans! What is your specific role on the Hiveswap team?

Hi, I’m Tom. I make stuff in Unity, which is a cross-platform 3D game engine and editor that can make all kinds of things - including the very 2D game you’re here to read about! My company neocade and I are working freelance on Hiveswap, with me as the lead programmer. Mostly, I direct and coordinate the team of programmers and quality assurance (QA) testers that are putting this game together. Sometimes I also write code.

When and how did you get your start on the Hiveswap project?

Sometime late last year, I was looking for a gig. At the time, What Pumpkin Games was looking for an additional Unity programmer. A mutual business contact introduced us via email, and we went from there.

Tell us a little bit about your career background! How did you get your start in programming? Do you have any advice for others looking to enter this field?

I’ve been programming computers since I was a little kid. I got my first actual programming job about a month after graduating high school, and did that for a bit during breaks while I was in college. It wasn’t very exciting, had nothing to do with video games, and didn’t pay a whole lot, but it sure beat taping up boxes of hot dogs in a factory all day.

The only advice I can really give to someone looking to enter the video games field is to just start making video games. Game development tools are more readily available now than they’ve ever been.

Also make lots of friends, especially with people who can draw or write or anything. If you live near a city, there is probably at least one game dev meetup somewhere - go to those and meet people. Get over whatever shyness you have, because almost every game that ever gets made is the result of a lot of teamwork.

We’re making a video game, so of course the question must be asked: what’s your favorite game of all time?

I played the heck out of Super Metroid back in the day. There’s something about that game. I would do speedruns of it - so now, every time I go back and play it, it all just feels so fluid. There’s a fairly robust set of inputs mapped out in a way that makes sense to my fingers. The entire game itself is fairly tightly bounded - a complete playthrough can take less than 90 minutes - so in a way, this beautifully detailed, explorable world is also actually kind of respectful of my time (more so than, say, a game like Skyrim, which is almost always a multi-hour/day/week commitment).

What games are you playing currently (if any)?

To be perfectly honest, I have not been playing NEARLY enough video games lately. That being said, aside from Hiveswap, I am currently into little mobile action puzzlers that I can play on the bus. Super Hexagon and Desert Golf are great. Just tried Polyforge this morning, too; that was pretty fun.

A lot of my friends are playing Breath of the Wild. I really want to just go get a Switch and play that, but I’m afraid of that eating up my time like Skyrim did.

Are there any games that you currently use or have used as inspiration for your own programming work here on Hiveswap, or just in general?

Not really - I tend to look at each technical problem on its own merits. The creative side of things is all handled by the What Pumpkin folks. I don’t really get involved with that too much. I just work to make sure their vision is implemented, however that needs to be done.

Imagine you’ve been given an unlimited budget and time frame to make your dream game. Tell us (briefly!) about that game in terms of genre, style, platforms, etc. Is it an original game or a long-desired sequel to an existing game? Go crazy!

Given an unlimited budget and time to work on a “dream game,” I’d have to go with some kind of deeply-simulated, massively multiplayer VR thing.

What’s your workstation like?

As a programmer, I like my workstations to be fast, reliable, and quiet. I always max out the RAM on a new machine if I can, because disk thrashing is just annoying as all hell. I’ve been really digging M.2 drives lately. Also, having extra monitors is always nice.

Do you like to listen to any particular kinds of music while you work? If so, tell us about it!

Mostly instrumental electronic music. Sometimes I’ll throw on some classical. Video game soundtracks are usually a pretty good bet. I can’t listen to anything with spoken words in it, though - too distracting.

Do you have a personal message you’d like to relay to all the Homestuck and Hiveswap fans out there?

Thank you all for being so patient with this project!

Thank you, Tom! Well folks, I hope you’ve enjoyed this week’s surprise bonus interview, and remember to check back on Thursday for yet another behind-the-scenes peek into Hiveswap’s development! As I teased last week, our very own Tauhid Bondia will be on hand to talk about his indispensable (my word, not his!) graphics and user interface design work on Hiveswap. See you then, everyone!

Office Drama

Series: Mr. Holland

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Swearing cause when don’t I ever swear..

Word Count: 1,900+

A/N: Mr. Holland will be updated Tuesday, Thursday, & Saturdays for now. I do attend college so if I don’t update on time, know I’m probably studying or working on HWxx


Originally posted by iamlouistomlinson

Yes Louis Tomlinson is your Roomie ^

Let’s get started xx


[Reader’s POV]


   Taking a sip of your tea you rest the mug back down. Your fingers clicked against the keyboard as you typed a new document. It needed to be done by this evening and you knew you could finish it. After what happened at the hospital you were in higher spirits. Seeing Jaelynn smile like that warmed your soul.


   Tom being the cause of her smile made you admire him even more. You don’t know what Marie was talking about he truly has a good side to him. The way he acted around kids was so natural. Moving your mouse to the plus adding another tab you click the search bar. Typing in ‘Tom Holland visiting Hospital kids’ and hitting enter after.


   The screen loads showing tons of videos on Youtube. Scrolling through you click on one of them. Looking at Tom then vs now he looks practically the same. Wondering if he sold his soul to the Devil to look young. He’s handsome without even trying who are you kidding?


   Apparently wherever he filmed he would stop by a hospital to see the kids. The videos you watched made your heart melt. When he pulled off his mask in front of a teenage girl her reaction was priceless.


“Woah you’re really cute!”


   Smiling at the video admiring how much Tom gave back as a celebrity. Still giving back now with The Holy Trinity Foundation. A loud ding fills the air making you snap back to reality. Searching your desk you locate your phone picking it up. Looking at the text you quickly open it and respond.


Lou Boo:

Bitch this place is fancy…


Lou Boo:

What’s your office number?


You:

Just come to the second to last floor, Mr. Holland’s home from home penthouse is on the top floor. Ask the woman at the desk and she’ll point to his office cause I’m literally right next to his office.


Lou Boo:

See you soon love xx Can’t wait to hear about your first day so far xx


   Setting your phone down to the side you get back to work. The office phone rings loudly making you pick it up immediately. Raising it to your ear there was a brief silence. Doing your answering the phone line they finally answer.


“Hey this is Jacob Batalon, is Tom in his office?”


“Yes sir, he’s currently working on signing some papers I can patch you through” you say pressing the number one button on the option sending it to Tom. Resting the phone back down you look  back at your computer screen.


   Looking over at time in the corner of the screen you’re wondering where Louis is. Rolling your eyes because he probably got lost. Typing for another five minutes you stop when you hear a knock on your door. Getting up from your chair you walk over opening the door.


“I’m here, you have so many attractive people in this office.. I had a chat and took some pictures with people, sorry love” he gives you a kiss on the cheek before heading inside your office. Turning around you close the door eyeing the bag he was holding. You were starving and needed food before your stomach roared like the kraken.


   Louis sets the bag on the ground taking a seat across from you. Taking out boxes he sets yours down in front of you and his where he’s sitting. Placing a pair of chopsticks on your box he does the same with his. Pulling out two tea bottles he hands yours over. Opening it up the smell of green tea relaxes you.


“Soooo, what’s it like working for the legend himself?” Louis asks opening up his box of sushi. Breaking the chopsticks so they split you place them in your hands.


“Actually quite lovely to be honest.. he took time out of his morning today to surprise Jaelynn in  the hospital” picking up a roll you lightly dip it into the sauce.


“He actually went to see her? that’s amazing, she loves Spider-Man”


“I know she does.. she’s jealous that I moved in with you years ago cause you have all the cool superhero stuff littered around” you were lucky that you became friends with Louis ages ago. Jaelynn loves hanging out with his son. Right now his son is currently with his mum for the week and Louis’s been sad.


“I bet she would love a visit from you, maybe read her a comic like you used to?” his face perking up at your suggestion.


“We have to talk about this though, is he just as good looking in person? Any man would be look envy with him.. he looks so young for his age.. I look like age punched me ten years into the future” he acts dramatically putting his hand to his head leaning back.


“Louis shut up you idiot” you let out a loud laugh at how he’s acting. Sometimes you wonder if he’s just still a child.


   The door next to you opens making your pause your movements. Setting the sushi back down you turn to see Mr. Holland in the doorway. His eyes looking between you and Louis. You nervously look over at Louis who had a prominent smile on his face. The silence was killing you.


“I didn’t know you were having a -“


“boyfriend, hey I’m Louis Tomlinson.. probably heard of me, I was in a famous boy band called One Direction”


“Louis sto-“


“It ended so clearly I haven’t heard of you, well you and your boyfriend have a lovely time” he turns around closing the door a little harder than normal.


“Fuck you Tomlinson, why the hell did you say that?!” you point your chopsticks over at him almost wanting to stab him with them.


“You should have seen the look he gave me… he’s into you babe” his laughter filling the air making your cheeks turn pink.


“Now he’s going to th-“


“He’s rude saying that to me, I’m Louis Tomlinson.. bitch” he huffs out running his fingers through his hair pouting before putting a piece of sushi in his mouth.


“You’re such a handful.. I don’t know how I put up with you”


“You do because I’m your best friend and cause I got you that Coach bag sitting right there” he points over to your bag hanging behind you.


“Bite me”


“He wouldn’t like that now would he?” a smirk not leaving his lips.

“God Dammit”


-


“Mr. Holland I finished the papers you wanted me to finish” setting the papers down he looks up at you. The tension growing in the air making you gulp nervously.


“Is he really your boyfriend?” he asks setting the papers aside in a tray. You step back nervously as he stands up.


“No he isn’t Mr. Holl-“


“It’s Tom, please call me Tom” his brown eyes looking a shade darker. Your heart beat was raising erratically.


“Louis isn’t my boyfriend we just live together” your chest tightening because that sounds just as bad.


“You live with him?”


“I couldn’t afford a place of my own and Louis is a family friend and has been letting me live with him..”


“So you need a place of your own then?” Tom stands in front of you then leans slightly against the desk. His arms were crossed over his chest and you couldn’t help but see how the shirt clung to his biceps.


“I’m fine Tom, I’m saving up now thanks to you helping out with Jaelynn..”


“Stay at my penthouse upstairs” your eyes widening His penthouse? Why would he offer for you to stay there? Maybe he doesn’t like you like living with Louis.


“I couldn’t possibly stay there Mr. Holland..”


“You will stay there.. plus being here you’re closer to the hospital… I can order a moving service to move your stuff in the guest room there”


“But don’t you live there too?” You ask looking at him as his lip swipes across his lower lip quickly. 


“I do but only when I have late nights so it will be all yours, now I’m not going to say no because you have these files now to do and you’ll be here over night” He unfolds his arms reaching for a file. Sticking out his hand he hands you the thick file. 


“Y-yes sir..” your eyes wide from the thickness of the file, holy fuck this was a lot of paper work.


“Come get me when you’re finished and I’ll show you around the penthouse” turning around he returns to his chair going straight onto his computer. His eyes focused as he started typing quickly.   



     Walking into your office you stressfully plop the file down onto your desk. Leaving you go and make some coffee for the long night ahead. Once you’re back you set up a playlist to listen to while you work. Your fingers typed as quickly as they could transferring the files manually into the system. Typing side notes on what could have been improved or what things were lacking in the company. 



    Hours went by as you tried keeping your eyes open. Minutes felt like ages as they ticked by slowly. Every time you blinked your eyes hurt even more. You were three cups of coffee in and your hands felt jittery. Backspacing on the error you just made you finish the last paper you had to do.


     Turning your computer off you stretch your arms over your head. A button coming undone form your top exposing more of your chest. Not giving a single fuck at this point you pick up the file of completed work. Standing up you feel the blood rush to your legs and let out a sigh of relief after sitting for so long. Picking up your phone you see a spam of messages from Louis. 


    Locking your phone so the screen turns black you stick it in your purse. Once you have your purse on, you then head to the door opening it. Stepping through you see Mr. Holland tapping his pencil against his chin. He turns his head to look at you with a surprised look on his face. Sticking out the file you let out a little yawn.


“Alright love, lets get you upstairs.. you look like you might pass out from exhaustion” he takes the files from you setting them down. Walking next to you he places his hand on the small of your back. 


    The two of you lock your office doors before heading down the hallway. Once down the hallway you turn the corner towards the elevator. Associates looking at the two of you with raised brows. Mr. Holland looks over at them making their heads turn away from you two. The elevator dings opening the doors signaling to walk in. 


   The ride up the next floor was dead silent. A buzzing sound goes off making the elevator stop. Mr. Holland reaches into his pocket pulling out a key. He sticks the key into the hole that was next to the buttons and turns the key. 


 The elevator doors open revealing a gorgeous foyer. Your eyes taking in the beautiful surroundings. The glass windows surrounding showed the city lights that immediately caught your attention.


    Stepping into the living you turn around in a slow circle gazing at everything. Looking back at Tom to see him smiling at you. Blushing from how stupid you must have looked. You’ve never been in a home that looked so extravagant. He walks over taking your hand giving it a small tug.


“C’mon I’ll show you the bedroom…”


@purple-storms-blog @oswald-1998 @beyouluvyou-soul @lexi-chan17 @superflashallen @svgr-tth @baileystorm17 @meganschuster07 @clairesrainbow @clean-and-claire @kawaiianime03 @holytacocactuscollector @castellagreen @onemorereaderofthebunch @moonfudge66 @depressedgayteenagers @camilaxpolanco @marveltomjunkie @perksofbeinginvisible @ordinaryqueen @starsasss @how-interesting @chasing-anteros @archie-is-bae @1dforeverandalwaysfan @marvelandwinchesters927 @lukeybabe26
@aquzrius @sarcasticmichelle @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @lilynez @bubbleflyz @cubedtriangle @possiblypointlessrecord @butcanyoujustimagine @chai-anne @elenakent21 @martymarmine13 @pleasantdreamqueen @wolfkingsqueen @multifics @thelifeofanengineeringstudent @haileyyy0604 @goldenchemistry @glittermysoulhidesbehind @curly-haired-holland @mossyfeet @kaylaleslie1120 @bxndsaf  @krystalsawallflowerr @everything-tholland @crimson-vodka @boringrayofsunshine @bruhjustdont @castellandiangelo @isabellyduht @rlupin-moony @aurelialemarier @donttellpeterparker @xcrawlerwood @ever-since-only-angel @mendes-holland @abbytaco15 @muffinfangirl28 @spider-junkie @mikalaka @amyyleblanc1999 @empathiccally @emmaduval2000 @jayzayy @hoodgirlxoxo @aliedelanie @hollandstanleythomas
@allenviedthoughts @theonlyonelives @hoodgirlxoxo @sincerelylisalynn @enoumen-t @lunalife101  @lovemalikstyles @pitubea1910 @ladyteacups @talia-grace-daniels

“Troop Leader” Part 1

Request: I’d love one where the reader is Starks little girl but in her early 20s. She’s a Girl Scout troop leader and brings her girls to the tower to set up their cookie stand in the lobby. Bucky keeps sneaking down there and buys cookies from them and winking and flirting at her making the little girls giggle at them.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff central

Word Count: 892

A/N: this request made me smile so much! hope you enjoy, please leave feedback. my requests and taglist are open. I have one request left after this. let me know what else you want me to write. 

Troop Leader Masterlist


Originally posted by thenixcat

“Dad, remember I’m bringing my troops to meet everyone today. Please keep anything dangerous locked away. I don’t want to have to explain to parents as to why all their little girl’s eyebrows were burned off. Make sure the entire team is there. The whole point of today is for the troops to learn about leadership. Everyone needs to be there. Got it? And we’re setting up the cookie stand in your lobby. Please buy some boxes.” You left yet another voicemail for your father.

Today, you were supposed to bringing your girl scout troop to the tower to sell cookies, but they were all going to earn their leadership patches by going. Troop 159 did sell the most cookies out of all the troops in Manhattan, but it was all thanks to you, Y/N Stark. People just automatically want to buy cookies from a famous man’s daughter. It’s just the way the world works.  

All week you had been leaving the same message for him, but he would never pick up the phone or call you back. He was probably holed away in his lab, or avoiding Bucky Barnes. Sure, he might’ve killed your grandparents, but you didn’t blame him. You knew it wasn’t his fault. You had been through the same experience with Loki. He used his staff to brainwash you and he forced you to do terrible things. In a way, you understood Bucky, even though you had never met him.


 Standing outside of Avengers Tower, you were really hoping your dad had at least listened to the voicemails. With sweating palms, you lead your troops inside. The lobby was empty except for a few folding tables. Good, he had heard them.

“Alright girls, let’s set everything up. Then I will see if everyone is available to come down.”

The girls got to work and you went to Tiffany, the receptionist.

“Can you call my dad and see if everyone’s ready. Tell him the girls are set up and ready to meet everyone.” With a roll of her eyes, she got the phone and called to Tony.  

“They will be right down, Ms. Stark.”

You nodded your thanks and went to go check up on the girls, but they already had a customer. You hadn’t noticed anyone come in. All you saw was his back, and it was a hot back. You made your way around the table to stand with your girls. Before you could get a good look at him, you heard your fathers voice.

“Y/N! You’re here! It’s been so long! I see you’ve already met Barnes.” You froze in your spot. Bucky Barnes was the man standing behind you. He spoke up before you could say anything,

“well, I haven’t really had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Bucky, and you must be the prettier Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Before you could blink, he had made his way in front of you. His front was definitely much hotter than the back. His eyes were enchanting and that smirk, the fucking smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You slowly took his hand in yours. One of your girls decided to speak for you,

“this is Troop Leader Y/N. She’s the best troop leader we’ve ever had!” she exclaimed. Bucky had widened his smile.

“I bet she is. With a pretty face like that She could sell anything.” Your mouth dropped open, and with a wink, Bucky walked passed all the Avengers and into the elevator. You had just enough time to see his biceps flex as he crossed his arms before the doors closed.

Your girls were giggling uncontrollably. That snapped you out of your lovesick haze.

“A-alrighty girls, these are the Avengers. Most of you probably know my father, Tony Stark, and Captain America. Everyone is going to teach you the importance of being a good leader and today you will earn your leadership patches. So, go introduce yourselves and get started!” you told them excitedly. All the girls were beaming. Every one of your scouts loved the Avengers.

With all of them entertained, you sat yourself down in one of the plastic chairs. You felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey there Sugar, I realized I didn’t buy anything when I came down. Now, what do you recommend?” you heard your girls giggle again. Everyone was staring at the interaction between you and Bucky. Steve had a smirk on his face. He had never seen his best friend so confident. You could almost see the steam coming out of Tony’s ears, and everyone else was giving off a smirk. It was almost comical how flushed you got around him.

“W-well, my favorites are the Somoas, just because I love coconut, but I also like the Thin Mints. They taste better if you freeze them.” You gave out your short answer.

“Alrighty, Darlin’ I’ll take two of each.”

You handed him the boxes and called over one of your girls to do the transaction, they were the ones supposed to be selling after all.

“thanks, kiddo. I’ll be back down to see your pretty troop leader again. By Y/N/N.” and again he disappeared.

“Ms. Y/N, he’s cute!” one little girl told you.

“I know, Sweetie, I know.” You sighed out.

James Barnes was going to be the death of you.

Tags: @ursulaismymiddlename @opaque-daydream @betsy1066 @imagine-all-the-fandoms @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @pacifikaproudaotearoa

I Hate You {Part Two}

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Theo x Reader

Part Three

“(Y/N)!” Greenburg yelled and you jumped, turning wide eyed until relief ran through you and you saw your friend and neighbour grinning at you.

“Hey, sorry I was…” You muttered and he shrugged tossing you your kit.

“Worried I was Theo out to get you?” He asked playfully which made you blush. “Don’t worry he won’t get through me.” You froze when he tripped over air and almost fell on his face.

“I’m so thrilled that you’re protecting me.” You giggled and headed to the girls changing room.

You could feel Theo watching you from the stands. He never left you alone for long and you could swear that even at night it felt like he was there lurking nearby. Even when girls flocked around him he’d be looking at you, often pushing them out of his way to hurry over to you only for you to run off.

“Can I hit him with a ball, I could do it… ok Danny could do it.” Greenburg grumbled, glaring at Theo who glared right on back.

“You two will you pay attention, (Y/L/N) try and get past McCall.” Coach yelled at you.

“Yes coach.” You mumbled

“Good luck.” Stiles whispered, sneaking forwards to grab you by the waist and give you a shove as you pushed off which propelled you forwards quick enough for Scott to underestimate where you were going.

“Better luck next time McCall.” You hooted and grinned, tapping your helmet against Greenburg’s.

Once you were done with practise you headed to your locker, glancing over at Theo’s where girls had swarmed around him, flirting and laughing despite the fact that he’d fixed his eyes on you. He shook his head when you quickly turned away, a panicked tightness set in your chest until Greenburg came over to walk home with you.

“See you in a bit.” He called heading into his house which was just next door.

“So, you two dating?” Theo asked making you yelp when you turned to see him leaning against the other neighbour’s mail box.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked and shuffled towards your gate, fumbling in your pocket for your keys so you could hurry to the door.

“I came to ask if you wanted dinner at my house… my Mom will cook?” He looked at you expectantly, nodding in defeat.

“I have to go.” You mumbled and ran to the front door.

Keep reading

Fuckbuddies, CH 2

Anyone ready for chapter 2? Writer’s Block will be out tomorrow, and then I’ll be focusing solely on this new story. Hopefully that means weekly updates! I can’t wait for you all to see where this one is going. ;) Oh, and happy Halloween! Talk to me! Pbg


The Hob is bustling when Katniss arrives. She’s thirty minutes late, but she kept her promise to show up. She scans the area, eyes quickly roaming over the shiny, black-topped bar with it’s mirrored background that makes this small bar look twice its size. There’s a second room with a few pool tables and a jukebox off the back, and Katniss makes her way there when she doesn’t spot her coworkers.

Sure enough, a handful of them are there. Her eyes find Peeta immediately with his light blonde hair and easy smile. He’s standing next to Becky, who’s holding a wobbling pool stick in the wrong position and bending over the table. It’s so obvious to Katniss that she’s faking it - no one is that bad.

She watches with thinly veiled interest as Peeta gives Becky pointers on how to hold the stick, leaning down beside her with his own in hand. He’s not touching her, and Katniss knows he’s friendly and helpful with everyone, but after Becky’s trip to her office earlier in the day, Katniss isn’t fond of Becky’s usual display. It seems more… personal.

Keep reading

miafuckingsucks  asked:

1, 14, 15 for the Drabble thing <3

1.The skirt is supposed to be this short.

JJ and Garcia had been the first to notice the new addition to your wardrobe when you entered the conference room that morning.

“Since when did you start wearing skirts to work?” JJ teased, taking the opportunity since it was just the three of you in the room at the moment.

“And ones that could be considered so scandalous?” Garcia joined in as she prepped the files for the rest of the team members.

“This skirt would only be considered scandalous back in ‘The Scarlet Letter’ times,” you laughed incredulously at your friend’s comments, “And besides, I thought it was cute and would mix up what I usually wear to work.”

“It is very cute,” Garcia confirmed, coming to where you stood and handing you a case file, “And very short.”

Throwing your head back and groaning, you chuckled softly, “The skirt it supposed to be this short!”

Tilting your head back down, you noticed that Spencer had come to enter the conference room, and when his eyes settled on the hot topic of your previous conversation, he swallowed harshly.

JJ and Garcia also noticed this and shared a knowing look between each other as Spencer took his usual seat right next to your usual seat.

“See something you like, Spencer?” Garcia whispered to the blushing man as she handed him a file while you took a seat next to him.

Rolling your eyes, you whispered a silent thank you to the universe when Hotch walked in and immediately began briefing the team.

At one point, Hotch turned his attention to Rossi and you felt Spencer’s hand come to rest on your knee.

“I do like your skirt,” his voice just loud enough for only you to hear.

“Thank you,” your own voice no louder.

“Do you think anyone would notice if we were a little late boarding the plane?” Spencer asked, trailing his hand ever so slightly up your thigh.

“Not at all.”

You prayed that no one noticed the smile you had to bite back or the hickey that would soon come to appear on your neck.


14. Take. It. Off.

“Please tell me that was the last box,” you huffed, taking a seat on the floor next to one of the many cardboard moving boxes placed sporadically around Spencer’s living room.

Nostalgia had struck Spencer after returning from a visit to Las Vegas to see his mother last week, prompting him to bring up the boxes of memories he kept stored in the basement of his apartment.

“There’s only one more,” Spencer assured, sliding a box labeled ‘photo albums’ out of the pathway you had created towards the door, “I’ll go get it and then we can start going through them.”

Humming in agreement, you scanned the boxes that were settled around you, wondering which one Spencer would want to open first when he returned.

Just to your right, the simple Sharpie label of ‘CHESS’ caught your attention the most. Imagining that it was most likely full of vintage chess boards that Spencer had collected over the years, you figured that was a good box to start with.

Standing up from your previous position and tearing back the tape that sealed it shut, you were pleasantly surprised to see a golden baseball hat residing at the top. Picking it up, a smile grew across your lips upon reading the black lettering of “Las Vegas Chess Champion 1989”. The thought of a little eight-year-old Spencer wearing the hat atop a mess of his untamed curls made you giggle before adorning the hat yourself.

As you began to carefully remove the chess boards that the hat had been on top of, you heard Spencer re-enter the apartment and close the door behind him.

“Babe, did you see a box mark—” Spencer stopped in the middle of his question upon seeing the familiar tone of yellow, “Where did you find that?”

“In this box with your chess boards,” your smile drooped, having expected him to be far more excited when seeing the relic.

“I thought I got rid of that,” Spencer swiftly set the box in his hands down and made a move towards you, “Please, take it off.”

“Why would you want to get rid of it?” you dodged his attempt to remove the hat from your head.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer ignored your question, the tone of his voice growing desperate, “Take. It. Off.

Before you had the chance to respond, Spencer was quick to close the space between you and wrap one arm around you while his free successfully snatched the hat from your head.

Squealing with laughter, you attempted to reach your arm just as high as Spencer’s to retrieve the hat back but settled back onto your feet when you realized your efforts were pointless.

“Alright, fine,” you feigned defeat, placing your forehead against his chest “But, Spence, why did you want to get rid of it in the first place?”

Lowering his extended arm to drop the hat on the sofa besides him, Spencer sighed, “The day after I won the chess tournament, I wore that hat to school, thinking that I was so cool,” his voice drifted off, “And well, we both know how uncool the rest of the high school already thought I was…”  

Your heart dropped at Spencer’s explanation for the embarrassment he had in regards to the baseball hat. Even if he had grown past the bullying he had experienced in school, it was obvious that some pain continued to linger.

Glancing down at the hat that was now by your leg, you smiled sadly before picking it up and placing it on Spencer’s head, right where it belonged.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I bet you looked just as cool then as you do right now.”

And for the first time ever while wearing that hat, Spencer felt proud.


15. Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

There were a million other places you would have rather been then an overcrowded bar right now. Most nights, you would be partaking in shots with Prentiss or singing a horrible rendition of some Journey song with Garcia and Morgan; but between the silent treatment that Spencer was giving you and the creepy stare you were receiving from a man at the bar, you had had enough of the night.

Pushing your way through the hoard of people on the dance floor, you made your way over to the spot of the bar where Morgan and JJ were stood, both of them ceasing their conversation at your arrival.

“Spencer still refusing to talk to you?” JJ asked sympathetically, being able to see the dejection that still resided on your face from the previous argument that the two of you had.

“Not a single word,” you shook your head, glancing back to see that Spencer was still sitting at the booth you had all chosen when you arrived, his eyes trained on the drink in front of him.

“So I’m just gonna head out,” you motioned towards the exit of the bar, receiving understanding nods from both of the agents.

“You go home and relax,” Morgan stepped forward to give you a hug, “I’m going to try and talk some sense into that boyfriend of yours.”

Lightly laughing for the first time in hours, you bid them both a good night before making your way back through the crowd of people and out of the bars overwhelming atmosphere.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh night air and reaching for your car keys in your purse, the sound of the door slamming caught your attention.

“Hey, there,” the voice was unrecognizable, but when you turned around, you were met with the man who had been staring at you since you entered the bar.

“Hi?” your response came out more as a question than a statement.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you left without the guy you came with,” his breath reeked with vodka as he came to stand closer to you, “And I thought maybe you’d be into leaving with me instead.”

Taking a step back, you scoffed at the complete stranger, “I’m not, at all.”

Sudden anger flashed across the man’s glazed eyes, “Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.

Even if you were a trained FBI agent, the man’s threat made your heart race and your palms go clammy.  

“Take one more step near her and I will not hesitate to shoot you,” Spencer’s voice rang clear and authoritative through the tense air, taking both you and the man by surprise.

“You don’t even have a gun,” the drunk man snarled, unmoved from his position near you.

Moving the jacket of his suit to reveal that he was in fact still carrying, Spencer spit venom in his words, “Back away from her, now.”

No longer willing to continue harassing you or run the chance of getting shot, the man was quick to practically run past you, in the complete opposite direction of Spencer.

A shaky sigh of relief had barely left your mouth before Spencer had pulled you into his arms, his own body shaking with fear at the idea of what could’ve happened if he had not come to apologize to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, “I thought you were mad at me, I didn’t think you would come after me.”

Shaking his head, Spencer tipped his finger under your chin and made you look at him, “I will always come after you, I can’t lose you.”

Pressing a kiss against your forehead, Spencer pulled you into him once more, not yet willing to let you go.

Under Dancing Stars I

I am still obsessed with Cassian and Nesta and also the Bed Sharing-/ Enemies to Lovers-/ Arranged Marriage AU, so I had to write this. It’s super angsty and the plot is basically just a Slow Burn and them drooling over each other or making out. Set in medieval times and everyone’s a knight. Enjoy.

(I also thought it would be fun to throw you right into the story without any explanations- have fun figuring stuff out as you go along!)

Check out my other writing here!


 UNDER DANCING STARS

 Chapter One: The Return

 

Beatrice: I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick: nobody marks you.
Benedick: What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?” 
― William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

 

Here’s the story of how Cassian and Nesta fell in love.

Their grandchildren will request to hear it one day, when all the years have passed by and their hair has turned white. Winter has covered the lands outside the castle; and sitting in front of a crackling fire, Cassian will take his wife’s hand. They’ll share a smile that quietly asks, do you remember? And when they look at each other they will not see the wrinkles in each other’s faces or the cane Cassian has to use to walk by now- they will see each other as they once were when they first met, a willful girl and a boy with the promise of a storm in his eyes.  

It’s a messy story, Cassian will say. Full of prejudices and mistakes.

But a story worth telling, Nesta will add. And squeeze her husband’s hand. You’ll let some parts out, right?

He will raise her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her skin. Just the parts that belong only to us, my darling.

***

“I know you’re nervous about the race”, Elain said. “But you don’t need to get so worked up.”

“Worked up? Me?” Nesta threw her hands in the air and proceeded to pace back and forth in the small stable they were standing in. “I am perfectly fine! The very picture of calmness! There is nothing that could interrupt my current state of collection and serenity!” She stopped in front of Duren’s box, her mare dancing lightly on the spot. “You’re the one that’s nervous”, she murmured, and gently stroked the horse’s white fur. Duren lowered her head. She had been given to Nesta on her nineteenth birthday, and ever since then, Nesta had loved her with all her heart. Had spent hours and days on Duren’s back, riding through the endless woods and along the cold streams of the northlands.

“I understand”, Elain implored. “It’s stressful. All those people you haven’t seen for years- then there’s father- and Feyre, of course”-

“Feyre seems to handle herself very well.”

A stable boy entered the stables, visibly nervous. Nesta glared at him. “You again?”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation, my Lady!”, he blurted.  “I have been told to inform you that the races are about to begin, and I can fetch a servant for you- if you want me to, that is- to bring out your racer to the starting line.”

“Go, go!” Nesta waved her hand in impatience. “I will do that myself. How much time is left?”

“Fifteen minutes, my Lady!”, the boy stammered. “Are you sure you don’t need a servant?”

“Positive. Now off with you.” The boy ran out outside as if stung by a bee.

“Be nicer, Nesta”, Elain pleaded. “He was scared of you!”

Nesta opened the door to Duren’s box. She was already saddled up, ready to be led to the race ground. “The goal is that there are all scared of us, Elain.”

“Why are you like this?”, Elain asked, growing desperation in her voice. “That is a horrible thought! Why would you even say something like that?”

Nesta turned to lead Duren out of the stables. “So that we might not share Feyre’s fate.”

“Feyre is marrying Rhysand, a man she loves. The future High Lord of the Night Court.”

“Feyre is nineteen. She knows nothing of men, or love, or anything in life, concerning that matter.”

“And you do?”

Flashing images popped up in Nesta’s mind, a hand grabbing her wrists, a body pinning her down. A bloody knife. She shoved them all away. “I know enough.”

Elain hurried after her. They walked through the crisp morning air, the scent of wet leaves and fires carried over to them by the wind. The courtyard was almost empty except for some busy servants. Everyone had to be at the race grounds already.

“Nesta”, Elain panted when she had caught up with her. “Just talk to me. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong”, Nesta answered through clenched teeth. There the race grounds were; there the hundreds of noblemen stood, all elaborate dresses, adorned hats and dashing suits; drinking, laughing, betting on the winner.

“It is about father, isn’t it? It’s that thing you will not tell me about, that stupid thing that caused your fight years ago-“

“Yes!” Nesta halted, and whirled around to her sister. “Yes! Of course it is! I have not been to the royal court since I was nineteen because of that thing, and I was forced to live locked up in some cold mansion in the north! I did not get to see you share your first dance as an eligible woman, I did not see Feyre get engaged, I was the one blamed when I was not the one that started it”- Nesta stopped herself. That was too much. Elain could never know about Thomas.

She gathered herself, straightened. “I was isolated from your lives”, she said coolly. “And now that father has decided he wants to marry me off, I have suddenly become presentable again. You must see that’s hard to accept.”

Elain grabbed her hand. “Then tell me what it is that separated us”, she begged. “Tell me why you were sent north three years ago. I will not judge, I will not think badly of you, I simply want to understand!”

“No”, Nesta said and continued walking towards the starting line, where the other racers were already waiting with their horses. “All you need to know is that were it not for you and Feyre, I would not manage to be here.”

“You can always talk to me, you know that.”

Nesta breathed out. “I do.”

“And at least you love racing. This day can be fun for you.”

Nesta shook her head to clear her thoughts. “You’re right. It will be fun. Elain”- she squeezed her sister’s hand- “I truly am thankful for everything you do. I know I may seem harsh. I am trying. It’s all so much- my first day back in Velaris, my first day back at court…I am lucky I have you.”

Elain swallowed. “That’s good”, she said, but in her eyes lay all the worries in the world.

There was no time for them to talk anymore; Nesta was led to her own starting position by an organizer where she mounted her horse. She briefly greeted the girl next to her, Countess Amalia of the Autumn Court- she’d been invited to her birthday dinner once, Nesta recalled. The spot on her left was still empty. At least she had not been the last one to arrive.

“Lady Nesta”, Amalia whispered. “Is it true? Are you back from the north?”

Nesta smiled thinly. “Apparently.”

“Are you terribly excited for your sister? I would die! She must be in heaven!”

”Do not worry. Last I saw her, she was eating breakfast.”

Amalia laughed. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to join my tea parties again. You were always like a breeze of fresh air with all those uptight princesses and ladies. Are you cold? I am so cold; I hate horseback-riding, and I will surely finish last. My mother forced me to participate.” Amalia sighed. “But that is the way of life. Mother commands, and I do her bidding. I am much more looking forward to the real race later. The Noble’s races are not the same thing.”

What Amalia said was true: this race- called the Noble’s race- was simply in jest, something for the young Lords and Ladies to compete with each other. Nesta had loved taking part in it before she was sent north; it was the only thing she had really looked forward to when her father had told her she would come back. Aside from living with her sisters again.

“You were sorely missed, though”, Amalia continued. “You did win the Noble’s races almost each year, did you not? The only one to challenge Rhysand and Cassian.”

“Right”, Nesta said, a little uneasy. “Where is he, by the way? I have not seen him yet.”

“The Crown Prince?”

“No.” Nesta adjusted her gloves. “The other one. Cassian.”

“Oh, he must be here any minute. He’s won each race ever since you’ve been gone. He certainly won’t miss out on this one.”

“He has?” Nesta eyed Amalia doubtfully.

The Countess laughed again. “That’s right, I almost forgot about that little feud of yours! Are the two of you still enemies?”

Nesta’s felt a flush on her face. “We’re not enemies. I mean, I don’t know what he thinks about that subject.”

“Just ask him yourself”, Amalia said and nodded her head at someone behind Nesta’s shoulder. “He is riding our way.”

If Amalia had not pointed out that Cassian was nearing the starting line, Nesta would have figured it out by the sudden cheers and claps among the spectators. He had to be the clear favorite among the contesters.

Her heart beat faster, and not because of the High Lord and his family that took their places on the high balconies right now- no, because she hadn’t thought this through at all. What would she say to Cassian? Would he ignore her? Insult her? Should she insult him first, just to get a head start?

Nesta glanced over her shoulder. The sight of him hit her like a brick. He was taller, to begin with, and older: everything seemed broader, his chest, his arms- and his hair was longer, too, tied back behind his head. He seemed in thought; didn’t notice the cheers, the crowd, or her. Her stupid heart stuttered for a second.

“Cassian”, she said quickly when he had taken his position next to her. She’d meant to say something clever. All she could think of was his name.

Keep reading

Trinket Trove

Pairing: McHanzo

Rating: G

Summary: No shiny object is safe with Hanzo’s dragons around. Not even something as important as a ring…

– – – – – – – – – –

Written for @mchanzo-week 2017, for Day 4 (Red/Blue) and 5 (Traditional/Unorthodox) 

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long ass time but McHanzo Week finally kicked me into gear to get it done. Helped that it fit two prompts


Jesse McCree was a man who knew how to roll with the punches. Resourcefulness was a skill he had perfected over years of being on the run after he deserted from Blackwatch, and hell, even maybe before that.

This. This was not something Jesse could easily roll with.

Jesse had already torn his own room apart looking for the ring. It wasn’t a simple case of him simply forgetting where he had hidden it either. Yes, he had to have hidden it somewhere incredibly sneaky to avoid Hanzo simply coming across it, but he had checked every single nook and cranny in the room. Shit, he had even checked the ceiling tiles.

No matter how high or low Jesse looked however, the engagement ring he’d finally saved up enough money for was absolutely nowhere to be seen. He weighed his options, which were looking to be either: A) letting the cat out of the bag and asking Hanzo for his help or B) tear the entire base apart. The latter option was the one Jesse decided on, not quite ready to face the music. Hanzo always had said he was a stubborn man. Jesse just liked to prove him right time and time again.

He made it all the way to the rec room before Hanzo discovered him.

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All Teeth, No Claws

🎃HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST🎃

We’re both bobbing for apples and it gets super competitive very fast

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Implied Smut

Down then up. A gasp for air, and then the splashing of water at your feet. Over and over again, the sound leaving no distinction between different patrons, apart from the elated giggling of children, or the taunting growls of competitive teenage boys. You didn’t like apple bobbing for the same reason you disliked the hype surrounding sport; people just got too aggressive about it. Apples with teeth marked indentations flew to your feet, some even hitting your calves if the person whipped their head strong enough.

Time was dawdling along slowly, and every passing minute served to add to your regret. Regretting that you had even suggested you help out with your uncle’s apple bobbing stall at the Halloween fair. At least you were getting paid.

And it helped that your friends were stopping by shortly, to keep you some company. As your thoughts drifted to them, they manifested in three tall boys. But, only one really caught your eye in that instant recognition.

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Dorian - Two Years Later

During the Exalted Council, if the Inquisitor speaks to Dorian, he sits in front of a chessboard. So, I headcanon that this happened (chess’ headcanons from here):



“I saw Demetra’s hand, Cullen.”
The silence felt heavy between the two of them.
 They had met a couple of hours before, when the new Tevinter ambassador had smugly shooed away his colleagues that were chatting around the Commander.
They both needed to speak and they both knew they gave their best if some chess game was involved.
So, they played.
Dorian spoke quietly again, tapping one finger on the luxurious chess board “Well, I admit I forced her to show me her hand. When you wrote me the first time I thought you were a bit paranoid. Now, I regret you didn’t write me earlier.”
The mage moved his pawn “Do not think I’m blaming you, of course. I’m furious with the stupid me.”
The Commander opened his mouth, his eyes gentle, but Dorian shook one hand vehemently “Please, don’t. I’m a Mage. And a very good one. I should have known that an ancient magic such as that damned Anchor is couldn’t just stay quietly carved on her flesh forever. Visante kaffas, I have been so stupid!”
“Nobody could foresee this, Dorian. Nobody. I’m sure Demetra told you the same.”
“Actually she told me to stop being silly and give her another cup of tea.”
Both the men forced a smile.
“How is she doing, Cullen?”
“She…” he stopped, staring at the chessboard. He couldn’t say aloud again what she had said him not later than six weeks ago – six weeks and five days ago, most precisely. He couldn’t. Dorian had the right to know, though.
“She is fighting the Anchor, but she’s not sure who will win.”
Dorian sighed heavily, pinching his nose in a poor attempt to hide his reddened eyes “We’ll save her, Cullen, even if I had to invent a spell myself bargaining with all the spirits in the Fade.”
Cullen looked at him, his throat painfully clenched.
“Thank you.”
It was all he managed to say and it was insufficient to express his gratitude towards Dorian. Towards his friend.
Dorian understood and nodded anyway.
“I told her she shouldn’t be here, wasting her time with this useless, ungrateful bunch of people.” the Mage hissed “She should take care of herself better.”
“I told her the same” the Commander captured Dorian’s Hero of Ferelden “But Demetra helped Thedas’ people while they suspected her of destroying the Conclave, calling her an abomination. She’s not going to act any different now that she carries the Inquisitor title.”
“I bet she also doesn’t want to put Leliana in a more precarious position.”
“That, too.”
“I warned her that nobody was going to thank her,” Dorian sighed conquering a position near Cullen’s Divine “And I fucking hate being right. But this? An Exalted Council against the only person who stood up between Corypheus and the world? This is beyond ingratitude. It’s monstrous.”
A silent nod was all that Cullen could add.
Cassandra had said something along that line, in a more colorful way. Varric, the same. Sera had already menaced to kill at least thirty nobles and twenty diplomats. The Iron Bull and Thom Ranier hadn’t spoken very much, but they escorted their Inquisitor silently daring people to say something wrong, as Demetra greeted people here and there.
Vivienne had been kind enough to keep away from the Inquisitor the most problematic guests, while Josephine took care of being the first to talk with the ones who would like very much spat their venom in the Inquisitor’s face. Cole had asked Maryden to sing Demetra’s favorite song and Leliana, though bounded to her role, had sent in her bedroom fresh flowers, trustworthy servants, useful information about the ones who still sided with the Inquisition and a giant box of the finest Orlesian chocolate.
Demetra had wept in Cullen’s arms “I’m so lucky to have all of you. As long as you still trust me, I’m alright.”
Dorian cleared his throat “Speaking about messy things, I heard there was quite a problem with the bedrooms when the Inquisition arrived.”
The Commander couldn’t stop the blush, but Dorian’s grin was full of pride “Well done, Cullen!”
“So everybody knows about my change of quarters?”
“Are you kidding me? The Commander of the Inquisition army that takes his luggage, ignores the outraged Chamberlain and marches in the Inquisitor’s quarters declaring that he will stay there, messing with thousands of years of protocol? My friend, you are a legend.”
Cullen shrugged “Demetra agreed and I’m not going to leave her alone just because a useless etiquette told me so.”
“Of course! I can already hear the minstrels singing about the Lion of the Inquisition who marched in his beloved Inquisitor room and took her in his strapping arms before kissing…”
“Yes, thank you, Dorian, I get the concept.” Cullen shivered, making him laugh. A sincere one.
“And I didn’t kiss her in front of everybody! I just told them to go to bother someone else.”
“So no kisses? Not even a little one?” Dorian pouted.
Cullen tried to not grin “I didn’t say that.”
Dorian winked at him “Your admirers will be heartbroken to have the ultimate confirmation that you’re not available.”
Cullen smiled “Finally! Maybe they’ll stop to send crows asking me to marry this countess or that noble.”
Dorian tipped his head on the side “Since we’re speaking about this, let me ask you a thing: are you going to ask her to marry you?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just fierce firm belief.
“Good. Soon?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Not anymore. I had one, but now I suppose I need another one.”
“Do you have a ring?”
“I was going in Denerim to buy one when all of this happened.”
Dorian nodded again, stopping their match, and fishing something out of his pocket. Cullen took the delicate box from his hands with a perplexed frown. When he opened it, he couldn’t hold back a surprised sound: laying against soft velvet, a couple of golden rings glittered under the afternoon sun. Inside the biggest one, it was carved “Demetra & Cullen”. In the other one, he read “Cullen & Demetra”. A line of minuscule arabesques in the external part made them two little masterpieces of gold-working.
Before he could speak, Dorian smiled, quiet and sincere “In my Country, it’s the best friend of a bride or a groom that buys the wedding bands. Now, since you don’t have a lot of friends that can  be better than me and I’m quite sure Demetra loves me as much as I love her, allow me to follow one of the few traditions that I’m still proud to.”
Cullen’s thanks were too full of emotion to be as much eloquent as he wished, but they were sincere in every bit. And Dorian winked at him “One last thing: I won’t tell you to take care of her. I have no doubt you will because she’s lovely and you don’t want that an angry Magister sets your ass on fire.”
Cullen smiled, but he knew Dorian was deadly serious.
His friend continued “What I want you to promise me is that the two of you will do the impossible to be happy together. That you will treasure what you two have and you will fight to keep it alive. Life can be hard even for people who love each other as you two do, but you have something precious. Treasure it.”
“I will. We will, I promise on my life.”
“Good. And now, let’s finish this game. I want to take back some Tevinter pride and kick that awesome Fereldan ass of your.”
Cullen chuckled, putting the precious box with the rings safely in his pocket “Good luck with that. And… thank you, Dorian.”



Every reblog, comment and tag are deeply treasured and yes, I read them all!!!!! 

The Witness Stand

Title: The Witness Stand

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,793

Warning: Fluffy lead in ending with steamy smut

Request by Anonymous: Okay I have a request!! Can you do an AU type thing where Dean and Sam never got into the life and Deans a mechanic and Sam is a lawyer. Reader went to pre law with Sam and hung out with Sam and Jess. Anyway Sam is in court with reader and Dean is there to watch his little brother in court but when he sees her in her skirt arguing in court and such he gets turned on and smut ensues?

A/N: This one sort of took on a life of it’s own, but I think you’ll still like it. Enjoy!!


“But your honor!” you jumped up to defend Sam. “The defendant brought up that information when they brought up their whereabouts the night before the one we are here about. My associate was simply following a line of questioning the defendant apparently thought was relevant enough to bring up while on the stand.”

You could see Sam nod out of the corner of your eye. The judge paused, looking between the two of you, trying to make a decision.

“I will allow it. But we are adjourned for today. I’ll see you all tomorrow at 10 o’clock.”

Keep reading

Circus

Part 4

It had been a week since Keith joined the circus and he had fallen into a routine.
Keith would wake up at 5 am to help Hunk make breakfast for the crew.
Then at 6:30 when everyone had eaten Keith would clean up while practice started.
He would spend the next few hours running around getting anything the performers need, dumbbells for Hunk.
Chains for Shiro.
Balance beams for Lance.
Megaphone for Allura.
Then around midday he would help make lunch.
After everyone’s eaten he would help Coran fix the set and costumes until show time.
During showtime after the first disaster of the winch Hunk was left in charge of it.
While Keith was put under Pidge, doing whatever the stage hand needed.
By time he had helped clean up Keith was usually so exhausted that he just collapsed onto his bed in the shared trailer.
Keith had gotten so used to this routine that it came as a surprise to him when one day everyone started to pack up so the circus could move on.
“Your coming with us right?” Hunk asked as he carried a large wooden beam over his shoulder.
“I mean… if you’ll have me.”
“Of course we’ll have you. Best assistant I’ve had since Lance started performing.” Pidge said as he seemed to materialise from no where making the two men jump in surprise.
“Wait Lance used to do my job?” Keith asked in surprise.
“Well sure he did, all the performers started out as stagehands until they found their act. Allura was actually the one to pick most of us up.” Hunk said with a soft smile “from the gutter or prison or mad house or brothel.”
Keith looked at Hunk in shock “that’s where you guys came from?”
“Well yeah, did you really think your the only one with secrets?” Pidge asked looking over his glasses at him.
“Hey Hunk Coran needs you to help him move some trunks of costumes!”
They all looked up to see Lance hanging upside down high above their heads untying the ropes that held the tent together.
A week ago Keith would of been worried Lance would fall. However after only a few days he came to realise that Lance was not someone to ever keep his feet on the ground.
He would always be climbing or hanging off something.
He even slept in a hammock hung above the others, refusing to sleep anywhere close to the floor.
Keith had tried to ask him about it, but he was always shrugged off and eventually he just gave up deciding it was just another of Lance’s strange habits.
“Sure thing bud.” Hunk walked off carrying the heavy beam like it was the lightest thing in the world.
“Lance! when your finished up there go help pack up the kitchen!” Pidge yelled up.
Lance grabbed a free piece of rope and began to climb down upside down.
“I’ll head there now.” He jumped off and landed on his feet with his arms outstretched like he expected applause.
All he got was an annoyed glare from Pidge. “Good, take Keith in about done here.”
“Yes mam.” Lance saluted making Pidge swat at him playfully with his hat.
Keith followed after Lance finding it annoyingly difficult to keep up with him and his long legs.
“Why did you call Pidge mam?”
“Oh cause she’s a woman… well on the inside.” Lance shrugged.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Lance thought for a moment “well Pidge is a girl but she has like a birth defect that makes her body look male. She doesn’t really care if you call her male or female but I know she prefers to be recognised as a woman.”
Keith nodded slowly starting to get it. “Was she the one from the mad house?”
Lance stopped in his tracks causing Keith to walk right into the back of him. “You heard about that then… yeah that was her. But it’s not my story to tell.”
Keith couldn’t remember Lance ever sounding so serious. “What’s your story then?”
Lance opened his mouth but closed it again when Shiro walked out of the kitchen tent carrying a few crates.
“All done here. Time to move out.” He smiled looking down at the two.
“I call Blue!” Lance yelled running off the the five horse drawn carts holding the entire circus going for one with a coat so dark it almost shon blue giving her namesake.
“What was that about?” Shiro asked looking down at Keith who only shrugged.
“I have no idea.”
——————————
If Keith thought helping to run a circus was tiring then actually moving one was beyond exhausting.
He had been put in charge of a slightly older horse with a ginger coat named Red.
She was a little tough to handle at first but eventually they came to an understanding after a few hours of struggling and running on ahead.
They fell into place next to Hunk and a very large shaggy horse named Goldie.
“So what’s your story?” Hunk asked.
“What?” Keith hoped he had misheard him.
“I mean no one joins the circus if they had the easy life.”
“Tell me your and I’ll tell mine.” Keith suggested pulling on Red reigns as she tried to catch up to over take Blue and Clover a little ahead of them.
“Well Allura picked me up after I got kicked out of a bare knuckle boxing ring.”
Keith stared at the gentle giant, he couldn’t imagine Hunk so much as hurting a fly let alone be fighting willingly.
“What happened?”
“Well me and Lance had known each other for years, it was just us see and we needed money to get by. Lance did what he could and so did I. For every fight I won I could get a dollar but if I threw a fight I could get five.”
Keith could t bring himself to say anything. If Hunk and Lance really had been together for so long then their natural closeness made sense.
They were like brothers not lovers.
“How come you got kicked out?”
A shadow crossed over his face “the guy that ran the place… he did something really bad to Lance… I punched him in the face and I know I would of killed him. But a whole room filled with fighters and well let’s just say I woke up bloody and batterer by Allura trying to see if I was still alive.”
“Wow.” Keith found was all he could say. What else could he say after hearing something like that. “So Allura got you and Lance to join?”
A pained expression crossed Hunks features for less then a moment before he shook his head looking at the road in front of him.
“N-no… she found Lance about 6 months after I joined up. I never thought I would see him again but because of her I got my brother back.” He grinned at Keith with so much joy that he felt a similar smirk stretch onto his own face.
“Ok story for a story, your turn so spill.”
Keith chuckled rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t really have a story. My dad owned a ranch in Texas and when I got old enough I decided to try my hand in the big city. I ended up broke and in prison for being caught with a prostitute.” He decided to leave out the gender of the prostitute.
Just because Hunk was nice didn’t mean he wouldn’t want him lined out for being gay.
Hunk laughed “aww and here I was hoping for some big dark secret, that’s nothing.”
Keith shrugged half heartedly “what can I say? Sorry to disappoint.”
“Ah well Lance is going to be disappointed, we had a bet going. He was sure you got arrested for fucking a guy or something.”
Keith felt his blood run cold.
“W-why would he think that?”
“Oh no reason, he just said you looked the type.”
Keith glared at the back of the trailer as though he could set Lance on fire just with the anger bubbling in him.
“Well I’m not, you can tell him and everyone else that asks that I’m no fag.”
Hunk winced “I’ll tell them your not gay… as long as you don’t use that word again.”
Keith looked at him in surprised curiosity “how come.”
“Because almost everyone here’s been one at least once in their life. Allura doesn’t get angry easy but her one rule is that no one uses that kind of language.”
Keith couldn’t of felt more surprised now even if Hunk suddenly sprouted wings and flew away. “B-but it’s illegal.”
Hunk grinned “not in every country we go to. First rule of the circus, the only laws that apply to us is about killing and stealing.”
Keith knew he should feel relief. These people were all like him… he could be himself.
However he couldn’t stop thinking about his time in prison.
The beatings and sleepless nights being on guard thinking that if he closed his eyes then he would never wake up again.