#Im sure she wouldn't but just in case

[lonisaiou]

I was going #throughsomething last night hahahaha, there's a lot more too, but I wanted to share this specific part here

(I feel for my friends who have to stick up and watch me ramble for hours about danganronpa on my priv, that's all I've been talking about lately)

[bread-wizards]

I'm just saying, Orym knows something about being stuck on the death of your first love. Of being constantly reminded of them and their death, seeing signs of them every day, making it that much harder to get over them.

But now he has found a new love, and despite the seeing Will several times, being reminded of him every time he looks at the moons or swings his sword, he is ready to move forward. "It's pretty great, living a lifetime." He wants to try again.

If anyone would have some wise words for Keyleth to help her get through this, it would be him.

[seaweedstarshine]

Sometimes I think of Amy Pond, who grew up being called mad by those who wielded the word as a tool of exclusion and shame —

Amy Pond, who though forced into the hands of four psychiatrists, still clung to that which they called madness until those systems which elevate psychosocial conformity above humanity stripped it from her —

Amy Pond, whose imaginary friend reappeared for a single hour after twelve years and reignited that faith before disappearing for two more years —

Amy Pond, who spent those those two years under the same implicit threat ingrained in her through psychiatric violence, and thus began to believe the man who stopped the invasion was “just a madman with a box,” only for him to agree, and to also call her “mad, impossible Amy Pond,” reframing madness as non-negative for the first time in her life ���

Amy Pond, who ignored the disembodied voice of her imaginary friend even as she ran away with him for real, who still lived each day with the traumatic internalization of deviancy dictated upon her by the psychiatric-industrial complex that shaped her from childhood —

Amy Pond, who wouldn't acknowledge the Doctor's voice, such that it took an Angel in her eye that was literally killing her to ensure she couldn't reality check herself —

Amy Pond, who stood before a room which muttered about “the psychiatrists we brought her to,” and though afraid, escaped their rigid parameters of acceptable existence.

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Hi urgent question, what does it mean when the friend that left you five years ago remakes the playlist she made you for your eighteenth birthday with the description, "For all that which I needed to leave behind. Tall tales (which was the name of the playlist she made for your birthday), great mistakes, and the time of my life." And another playlist with the description, "My life as it is! Taller tales than ever before." And posts them both to the Spotify she knows you can see? What does it mean? Hello what does this mean??!? I need someone to please present the correct answer because I don't know what to think or feel but I can't stop looking at the playlists and crying, and I'm at work so that's not great, so I just need an answer please.

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Well. That was a Thing that Happened for sure.

[hirazuki]

Hira's year in medical review:

Me, August 2023: *experiencing extreme fatigue, fainting spells, mood swings, sudden and drastic increase of suicidal thoughts, and intense hair loss*

P.A: let's do blood work

Me: ok!

Bloodwork: *normal except for prolactin*

Doctor: sometimes that's a fluke so let's retest

Me: ok

Bloodwork: *exactly the same*

Doctor: your values are higher than normal range, but not high enough to be in range for a pituitary gland tumor.

(P.A: go see an endocrinologist and get an MRI, that might be indicative of a pituitary gland tumor.) <- bless this person and only this person in particular

Endocrinologist, seen earliest available which was January 2024: *wants to retest blood work instead of ordering an MRI*

Me: ... ok

Bloodwork: *the same*

Me: can we please do an MRI now?

Endocrinologist: Well. Your values are above the normal limit, but it's highly unlikely that's it's a pituitary gland tumor because they are not high enough for that. Let's retest blood work in four months.

Me: ...................... ok

Bloodwork, May 2024: *THE SAME*

Endocrinologist: hmm, I recommend an MRI

Me: *gesturing angrily*

MRI, June 2024: 🎉 pituitary gland tumor 🎉

Doctor, when I went in for something else: I doubt your endocrinologist will want to treat that, we typically don't treat adenomas that small

Endocrinologist, who took 3 weeks to review my results: I recommend just monitoring. It's highly unlikely that this is causing your symptoms, it's too small for that.

Me, July 2024:

[mariners-death]

I'm so normal about the lawyer posts

[vindicta-reliquiae]

-

[arolesbianism]

Horrible realization that if I go through with recollecting all the oni logs then I'll have to actually find out how to get "a seed is planted" like for realsies this time. Maybe I should just cheat them all in actually. <3.

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

im watching a film called 'the returned' and everybody who lives here is very very strange!!!

there are zombie ppl, but if they take medicine, they're totally fine!! however, some ppl do NOT LIKE the zombies!!!!! so they want.........to stop making the medicine????

BUT UHHHH. IF U DON'T MAKE THE MEDICINE. THERE WILL BE MORE ZOMBIES. which is.........the OPPOSITE OF WHAT THEY WANT??? right??? bc they want. LESS ZOMBIES.

medicine = less zombies no medicine = more zombies

SO???? shouldn't they want MORE MEDICINE????? ISN'T THAT?????? SO??? WHY ARE THEY??? TRYING TO MAKE THERE BE LESS OF THE THING.........THAT ENSURES THEIR DESIRED OUTCOME???????

maybe im just stupid lol

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[luveline]

heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.

but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!

love your writing and page, <3

ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress. 

It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts. 

"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby. 

"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch. 

"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?" 

"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that." 

Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you. 

"Too much?" you ask cautiously. 

"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?" 

"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler." 

"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines. 

Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…" 

Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them. 

His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly. 

You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice." 

"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms." 

Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side. 

"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?" 

A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine." 

"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear." 

Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble. 

"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask. 

"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says. 

Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.

[svtcrus]

unlawful duties || neuvillette x fem!reader

a/n : Im going against myself and ended up writing this big crazy ass smut of neuvillette. I WANT HIM SO BADDDD

disclaimer : dom!neuvillette , extremely sexual descriptions, implications of bondage nd choking , office s3x , slight aftercare

"im sorry but the chief of justice is busy right now madam!"

"really.. monsieur neuvillette? agh are you sure?" the beautiful blonde lady who is well known as the president of the spina di rosula was pestering poor sedene. arguing with the unfortunate melusine whose trying to prevent her from entering. navia completely doubtful at how the chief of justice was busy. when all he does is "stay cooped up in his office, if he's not in his playhouse" she quotes.

and while the madamoiselle is not wrong in some aspects, this very chief was busy with a different case.

"be quiet darling, seems like miss navia is right outside." here you were bent over the desk that is scattered with piles of paperwork, the feeling of a slender gloved hand trailing along your bare back. lips bitten harshly to the point of them bleeding, holding back any noise.

however your efforts are in vain upon the force of another hand gripping onto your neck pulling you up. the feeling of neuvillette's hot breath lingering near your ear, your forced to listen to the inappropriate words of the monsieur himself.

"you wouldn't want her to hear how dirty your moans are now would she?" he licks your neck before his lips find your sweet spot, suckling on your skin making you whimper through red stained lips.

this man who withholds so much power of the nation of justice has you wrapped around his own finger. has you bent over his very desk moaning his name loud beneath him, and it's making him go insane.

he breaks his composure at the very sight of you, feeling his breath hitch as his eyes linger between those crystal eyes and your soft lips.

those same lips which he kisses feverishly as he pounds himself into you, concealing your loud cries which beg him for more.

neuvillette's stamina is unpredictable just as he is mysterious. he could go on for hours of him shoving himself into you sweet cunt that's swallowing him ever so well. your walls which squeeze him so tight as he's pushing you further onto his desk, the court papers now long gone amidst the floor. he simply cannot get enough of you.

the chief's clothes are loosened, his white scarf is now used as restraints for your dainty hands. his own two? they are feeling every crevice of your body up from behind. his hand kneads against the plump of your ass, boldly pushing it to see your wetness engulfing him. your slick intermingling with his as he enters and exits your swollen hole. he could see all his love marks tracing from your neck and along your shoulder line, the sight makes him swell.

neuvillette lets out a breathy hiss as he feels your velvet walls tighten around him once more.

"s-so dirty for me darling. not caring if we..- ahhh, get caught.." low growls are leaving his mouth, the sound of skin touching skin echoing amongst the office. the attempts of being quiet long gone. you're moaning, whining, begging, his honor for more.

"please monsieur..."

"please what my love? I need you to use your words sweetheart." two of his long fingers are shoved in between the plump of your lips, you can taste yourself. all while he pounds one more time with his obscene force, before halting. awaiting for you to beg for his cock for his own pleasure.

"harder-mmf! please.. fuck me!" immediately he's back in his feverish rhythm, snapping into you like it's his last time fucking you.

"profanity is forbidden here sweetheart." he manages to say through clenched teeth, both of his hands now gripping onto your hips harshly.

hah, proper etiquette? the fact that you and the chief of justice are performing such debauchery in his place of work? the mannerful thought was long gone in neuvillettes head the moment you had pushed his buttons. now he's enjoying every second of ramming into you in his open office, where someone could very much catch you two committing an unlawful act at any time.

neuvillettes's ego rises at the sight of your naked back is covered in his slick, his godly handsome face is blushed from his efforts. long silver locks disheveled, his bangs damp from sweat. your cunt is dripping cum onto his hardwood floors, oh how will he explain such a mess to sedene?

"ah.. is sex also forbid-" you gasp at the sudden action of him pushing one leg up onto his table, solely so he can push even more deeper into you.

he's hitting all the right spots inside, nudging against the part you need him most and it's driving you crazy. his length proves it all, and god is he so big. you can feel him pulse within you as you both find release. your lover grunts while his wet fingers begin to fondle your clit. motioning them in the way he knows to make you quiver. all while he's leaning down to kiss you, as his seed makes you feel so full.

you could feel the bruises beginning to form on your lower back, his length now long gone. your legs still shaking upon orgasm.

"I hate you..." you manage to say between heavy breaths, your hands are finally freed from his scarf.

your nakedness is replaced with warmth, his coat being draped over you as situate yourself. your lover is already back in his dress pants, and a buttoned up shirt. you glare at him once reality has struck your head. yet he only smiles at you as he begins to clean you up from his mess.

"are you pressing charges on me now after you begged for my cock so well?" neuvillette whispers, those purple orbs are looking down at you. displaying how much lust he still has in him.

blushing at his sudden remark, he lets out a low chuckle.

"you love me sweetheart, lying is a crime you know?"

@svtcrus || 08.16.2023

©️ all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize my work.

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 2 - A.H

a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall

im so down bad for him ugh

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part three here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments

wc: 3.2k

You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.

You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.

You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.

"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.

"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."

You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."

"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"

"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.

But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.

"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."

You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.

"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."

"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"

"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."

As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."

You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.

"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."

They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.

Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"

"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"

"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."

Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.

Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.

Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"

You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."

"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."

You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."

"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.

You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."

He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."

"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."

As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."

He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.

"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.

With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.

"What?"

"I said, I'm worried about you."

You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.

"Why?"

It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.

"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"

His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.

"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"

His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.

"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"

Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.

"What can I do to help?"

Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.

"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.

His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"

"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"

"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.

You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.

Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.

Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.

"There she is!"

You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."

Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"

Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.

"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."

You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.

You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.

Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.

"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.

"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.

"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.

She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.

"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"

You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.

"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.

"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."

Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.

"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"

"It's Hotch."

Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"

You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.

"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."

You shot Emily a thumbs up.

"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."

You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."

"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."

You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.

"Hey!"

She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.

"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."

"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."

Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.

"Heard that."

Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.

Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.

He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.

"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.

He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."

A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."

"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."

"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."

Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.

"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"

He raised his brow. "Both?"

"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."

Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.

You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.

Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.

A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"

"No thank you."

"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."

"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."

He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."

A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.

"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."

The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.

"You're a great boss."

"I like you too, Agent."

"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."

As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.

"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."

He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.

Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).

"Goodnight, Aaron."

He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."

He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"

And who was he to deny you anything?

next part!

taglist: @chronicallybubbly

[thatdeadaquarius]

College be kicking my ass but we continue on like Scaramouche (alive and kicking, but still crabby about it all lmfao)

Random idea but what happens when the acolytes got hold of Creator that is able to squeeze into small places (like a cat would but less liquid) and knows how to escape? Think of sagau but instead of all the deaths, its just they got overexited and chased the Creator the moment they see them which scared them shitless seeing a mob just appear out of nowhere.

I mean who wouldn't after seeing your favourite person in your favourite game just appear right in front of you? (I apologize in advance to the poor unfortunate sucker)

Imagine a world-wide search that keeps getting them heart attacks. Venti just flying by with Dvalin ony to see you on top of the floating pillar above Dragonspine LEANING PRECARIOUSLY OH MY ARCHONS GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE---

Zhongli walking around trying to find peace and quiet only to sense your presence which led him towards Azhdaha's domain and nearly shouted in terror seeing you hanging by one of the limestones above the slumbering dragon your grace what and how the in the fucking name of teyvat did you---

Yae Miko screaming in surprise seeing you inside one of the cupboards of your grace's house (you made a small temporary one in each country in case u need more rest) that she and Ei found in one of the remote islands.

Nahida and the entire Forest Rangers having one of the most intense, frustrating and most challenging game of hide and seek in the entire freaking forest.

You hiding underneath the sand like a fricking snake everytime Cyno spots you from a disrance.

-Vine Boom 🧨

I am no longer apologizing for lateness simply bc atp its basically assumed Im terribly sorry 💀 /so gen

  

Content under -----------------✄

☆

Sun: Reader, (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Imposter SAGAU? Imposter SAGAU Reversed Ver? unclear (NOT DARK)

Stars: little here, little there

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: reader/you thinks everyone is hunting them down, dark sagau fake-baiting lmao, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

No but the traumatic experience of you cautiously wandering into Mondstadt after realizing ur in Genshin like, ✨👄✨

and every single street/alleyway you try to go down to even avoid it is just people all looking at you like: 👁️👄👁️ ???

and ur over here equally just like: 😃 tf u lookin at????

u get up near the cathedral and finally see a playable character, Barbara, and she just fully GASPS and POINTS at you like she’s getting paid to be an actor for this

shouting sm nonsense like: “My Creator??? King of All???? IS THAT YOU?????”

and after which a few nuns check the commotion, Rosaria and Barbara’s Visions are glowing, and all join in heckling you

Venti coming (literally) flying around a corner on a breeze, saying he was trying to catch up to you, and ohhh now ur Convinced:

None of these bitches must be happy to see you, you did forcefully control their bodies if by the sounds of it they knew you/they must’ve been aware during the game, aw damn looks like u gotta run for your life now

You just book it out of Mond, Venti/Barbara yelling after you to come back, and meanwhile you’re leaving a shell-shocked Jean/Diluc/Kaeya (with Visions glowing) in ur wake on the way out

Not one being, mortal or otherwise, convinces you to stay in Mond, and you finally get to Dragonspine- the only place u know they wont follow

(well maybe the pyro characters but ur betting if u can make it up the mountain theyre not committed to,, running you down? arresting you?? ur not sure)

u make it all the way up and luckily everythings all solved like u did in the game, the traveler must be well into teyvat by now, and u decide to say “for the already achieved achievement” and fuck around and find out near the nail

U thought as u finally got on it u heard a scream somewhere in the sky, and u spotted Dvalin carrying Venti/Barbatos, and once again book it out of town (damn u cant believe theyre so committed they got the dragon in on it…)

so u haul ass all the way down the mountain, traveling only at night, living like a vampire, holing up during the day when u see Mond citizens/knights/gods/etc. walking around presumably looking for you

but u make it, finally! sweet, sweet Liyue, ur 2nd home (besides Mondstadt)

Only to immediately, like right outside the fucking gates to Liyue Harbor, run into Zhongli.

and he’s standing there like this mf knew u were coming, and the first thing out his mouth is some BS like, “…Darnell, that you??”/ref LMAOO

but instead of laughing abt it u just scream and run for your life haha

oh jesus h christ- he’s sending the adepti after you fuck- how hated are you??

sure u maybe hate Celestia a little, and sympathize with the traveler, but this seems a little extreme?!

you go to the one place u know he/any other adeptus doesnt like to come often, Azdaha’s cave

and after a night (well, day bc ur sleeping during the day now) of Azdaha sleeping peacefully, he wakes up fully coherent and u actaully have a rlly pleasant conversation with him about Liyue food lol

he also kept mentioning some kind of god? but like in reference to you?? are u connected to them, u kinda know a lot of gods atp so ur not sure which he means, a god to rule them all??? Celestia?? yeah u guess u know those fucks-

Cue u looking down from ur perch in the stalagmites above, u found a ledge and Azdaha helped you,

only to see a very concerned and borderline nervous Zhongli down below, Azhdaha just greets him like nothing’s wrong, but as soon as he sees you’re uncomfortable, helps you escape (more like teleport) away

(the old geo archon was probably nervous just be around Azhdaha u assume)

and now ur on the islands of Inazuma

u know exactly what islands are all but abandoned, the ghost one, the electrocuting one, and the scary bird one, all great options 👍

Raiden and Yae Miko manage to find you on every single one, with Yae getting more and more exasperated, and Ei getting more and more concerened with every position they find you in

hanging out on the banks of the electro river that would kill you if it weren’t for the little electro trees fending it off (thank fuck u maxed that shit out while in game)

bc u assumed they’d hate to be around it, plus lots of ronin- nope Ei is almost… scolding you?? oh but she’s got her Musou no Hitotachi out fuCK-

(she was slaying ronins that were getting too close to you)

she also is constantly jumpscaring you on tsurumi island/ghost island bc while the ghosts are gone, the creepy atmosphere isn't, and it makes her all the more terrifying as The Raiden Shogun comes walking out of the fog into the cave you've hidden in, stuff of ur nightmares for weeks as u just bird box style try to be silent and stealth around the island to get to an abandoned boat,

literally her scary ass purple sword glowing silhouette wandering around in the fog as you paddle away 💀

getting to thunder bird island and Yae Miko is literally both running/teleporting as quickly as she can to you, as you jump from floating rock to floating rock to escape her, god its so unnerving to watch someone so lazy running after you

she keeps getting in this weird “praising the heavens pose” sometimes when you jump, oh shit she’s aiming hER ATTACKS AT YOU THATS WHY-

oh good- she missed and deflected some stray debris coming ur way, u gotta get to the bird area and see if you can glide away (u managed to get a glider at some point thank fuck)

the bird is luckily on ur side against all these mfs trying to hunt u down (for controlling their bodies u guess) and flies u back to mainland teyvat

sumeru u thought would have the most mercy on u tbh, maybe fontaine bc Neuvillette only rlly cares if u break “fontaine” laws, maybe he wouldn't care to chase down a mortal like u over this

and nahida bc shes just nice

which is somewhat true, as you are acting like tarzan swinging around on vines and shit to escape the forest rangers

but she does show up in ur dreams, but shes just all foggy or distorted, u guess bc ur not of this world or smth??

and so it just unnerves u more, and u try to make it out to the desert, where at least there's no gods to worry about

mf ur hunkered down in a pyramid and see the shadowy shape of Cyno walking thru a sandstorm at you 💀

U dont kno how u got out of that one tbh, smth abt “king deshret made a plan for this” and left it behind for ppl to use to escape underground, sweet

And while Nahida and other eremites, scholars like Alhaitham/Kaveh/Dehya were looking around the desert sands, u slip by them

And u make it to the oasis at the edge of the desert, and steal an old rowboat to cross to fontaine (if i had a nickel everytime u needed to escape a god via old rowboat, youd have 2 nickels- )

and getting to Fontaine is not much better.

U literally get to the clockwork tower, foggy, ominous, uninhabited except for treasure-seekers occasionally, its perfect

until Neuvillette himself just strolls in abt 3 nights of u making camp there

u nearly shit urself as he just fake-knocked on a wall, meanwhile ur like hanging from the ceiling (four limbs out suspending you type of fictional shit)

luckily, mostly bc u were trying to wait him out (which wasn't possible ur limbs hurt so bad) he was, finally, the first person around u long enough to be genuinely kind and patient and answer questions

(Neuvillette acc couldn't figure out where u were at first, and was very confused how u got ur voice to boom around this chamber of the tower, after a minute of talking u trusted him enough to tell him to look up lol)

just in time too, he was able to hide u from the archons a little longer bc u were nervous

(u were already intimidated enough by Neuvillette being irl himself, talking to you, let alone all the other gods/vision users, as u realized afterwards thinking abt all the ppl trying to “hunt u down”, that if they all counted as ppl actually wanting to see you, that was a rlly overwhelming amount, esp if their first instinct is to run at you??? what are you, a fan-abused/disrespected kpop idol????)

☆

trying to be fancy and schedule posts once i get enough free time to actually wrangle my adhd to actually partake in my favorite hobbies 💀

well as long as I'm not getting slammed with lots of shifts again

hope u guys had a great weekend and have a good week! Happy late Valentine’s Day :)

Safe Travels Vine Boom,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the Beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan, after being officallt together with Wade for multiple months just sitting at the table with this longing look on his face.

"What's wrong, Wolvie? Kitty havin' a bad day?"

"...My wife died today.."

"What?"

And it's not that Wade doesn't already know he's been married multiple times already, but it's the suprise that Logan is just now mentioning this today. I mean its like 4 pm and he just now is bringing this up.

"Well.. Let's go see her!"

"... I can't.."

"Oh... cause it hurts to much?"

Logan is staring at the table, just.. staring.. out of it, looking like he's gonna cry if someone doesn't do something. And seeing as he's sober now, he's trying really hard to stay here. He wants to run off to some bar and drown himself in his own sorrows, but he doesn't.

He's a good boy.

Cause he's staying right here. At home. With Wade. Where he belongs. It's so hard, though. So damn hard.

Theres a big pause before he looks up at wade with the biggest wettest eyes. "..Cause shes in Japan."

And suddenly, Wade Gasps. "Ooh I love Tokyo! Lets go!"

Logan is now frustrated, he thinks wade is teasing him about going. He thinks hes mocking him. Tears fall as he glares at him.

"DONT... not today, wilson."

So Wade blinks and is like 'oh shit' cause he got hit with the army name.

"...so.. you dont want to go to Japan?"

Its now that Logan looks at him, baffled. "Of course I do..."

"Then let's go! Im bringing an empty suitcase, EEHH Im gonna buy so many clothes!" So as Wade runs off, Logan thinks for a second, processing before awkwardly coming to the bedroom. "W-..were actually going?"

Wade stops packing and blinks. "Peanut you really gotta make up your mind. Do you want to go see your wife or not?"

"... yes."

"Then yes. We are. Now come on I cant imagine a ticket this late would be cheap but oh well! Anything for my Logan." He declares.

Logan smiles a bit.

My Logan

"Y-you dont mind? Really? It'll be a lot of money, Wade... wont you feel weird coming with me to watch me talk to her?"

"Oh don't worry about it. I took a couple extra jobs this week, and why wouldn't I be? You let me see Ness. And Death."

"I dont exactly *let* you see death... she just takes you."

"Yeah well. When a girl is needy you dont really complain, now do ya? Now get packed or ill go myself. Ive been itching to go somewhere for awhile. Love new york. Hate america." He states, slamming his case shut and zipped it only for a couple yips to come from the bag.

"...Wade... did you pack puppins?"

"What? Shes an essential."

"Wade..."

"Fine! I'll leave her with al! Jeez."

And so, here they are, packed, sunscreened, and at the airport when Logan remembers how much he hates planes. He's nervous, anxiously staring at the boarding gate and his hands itch. Hes in the corner, waiting for wade to get back with their pretzels.

"You know- Its really convenient that I saved up all that money and we were able to go on this vacation style trip. Oh well. You want your pretzel now or later? Yours has cheese. Mines mustard.. Kinda like that new Kendrick song."

"What??" Logan asks, out of it and is obviously sweating.

"Ooh kitty... shit I forgot. Here. Hurry up and take these. Hank said if we ever needed to go somewhere on a plane or you were going crazy to give you some of these." He says, shifting hands to give him a bottle of pills.

"Im not so sure about this.."

"About going to Japan?"

"No no.. I... I wanna go to Japan. I just.. I really hate planes.. and these I-" he looks at the pills, whining. "I used to do a ton of pills, Wade. Anything I could get my paws on."

"Ha!! Paws."

"?? Did you take one of these?" He questions.

"Oh what? Nah. Did do a ton of coke though before we left... Oh shit... you know what the author just remembered?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah exactly. We cant get through TSA... Welp. Time to go buy a plane."

"Ohh hell no! You are NOT flying us anywhere!.. Look.. I know a guy."

"Oooh. Mysterious cliff hanger. What will happen next? Who knows. Maybe we'll get a plane crash and logan will drown to death over and over-"

"WADE!!! NOT. HELPING!"