#depending on when i hit it on the wheel again i might actually do the design notes for the other 2 characters

[allophonicmess]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 3

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine

This is a fluff chapter. Gotta give you guys some candy after all that angst

Word count 4.1 K

Life resumed as normal after that. Or as normal as it could be when you are suddenly placed in the new timeline. Logan kept getting confused by little details that were different to the life he had lived before. Professor X ? Sure he exists but he had hair. Cyclops? Oh yeah. He was just as annoying as he remembered. Who are the fucking Avengers and what sort of rich nerd was Tony Stark? And what about Jean?

“A hot red head with the telekinetic powers?” Wade hummed, pretending to be lost in thought. “Uh, no. UNLESS! Charles used to have a beautiful flowing mane that I don’t know about. He is turning grey, you know… but it suits him. Silver fox”              

So Jean was out of the picture. That was good, right?

Logan groaned at Wade's bad joke. He shifted his focus outside, watching the landscape change from looming tall skyscrapers to even fields and trees that started changing colour with the season. It reminded him of home.

“Just to get this straight.” Logan shifted in his seat. The car that Wade had bought from the dealership had been heavily discounted and Logan now understood why. You would think it can’t get worse than the Odyssey? Oh boy, were you wrong. It was too small for 4 people, let alone 2 mutant men. He already felt sorry for whoever might have to sit in the back for whatever reason.

“Y/N has powers?” Logan asked, trying to play it cool. The whole drive had been a big Q&A.

“Yup,” Wade said with a pop. One hand on the steering wheel and the rest of him laid back in his seat.

“They call her Osmium, too?” Logan didn’t like this dependency on the wanna-be hero. But he had to make a good first impression.

“Osmimimum? Uh no. She is called Atom” Wade laughed “Don’t if she actually does stuff with atoms… It's more like…” Wade groaned as he tried to think of an example.

“She manipulates density.” Logan pointed out. They had trained together many times. But Y/n was never allowed to use her full potential with the X-men. They condemned violence and so she was often left out on mission and focused on keeping the school running.

“Ugh- I guess? She once told me in great, boring detail why ‘Atom’ is a bad superhero name for her but they kept it for the marketability. “ He shrugged “Oh! I remember that one time we stopped a child-mutant trafficking and she got mad, like REAL MAD, and then she turned this one guy into goop.” Wade nodded fondly, thinking back at that moment. “And I mean like Nickelodeon kids choice award goop, like slurpable slushy goo, like-“

“Okay, alright! I get it.” Logan groaned in annoyance. Shaking his head at Wade. He was thankful for the man’s support and friendship but god was he annoying. Constantly.

“I wish she would do that to me sometime. It’s on my ways-to-die bingo. But she keeps refusing!” Deadpool hit the wheel dramatically.

“You are disgusting,” Logan stated dryly. “The most disgusting person I ever met.”

“Don’t forget the most annoying!”

...

The decision to go back to teaching was not made out of fun or for the joy of doing it. Maybe partially, even though Logan would not openly confess so. It was made out of necessity. Living with Wade and Al became tiresome after the first few weeks. It was always the same antiques, the lack of schedule as well as a constant state of chaos that made him crave the ordered life at the school once again. He hoped that it would give him a sense of belonging. The X-men might be different here, with a few quips and details that didn’t match with his reality. But living at the school would tie him to a strict schedule and by god, he needed some structure in his life.

 But all in all, it meant home.

“Okay, peanut. Today is a big day. But I know you’ll do great and meet a lot of new friends.” Wade joked in a motherly tone as they arrived at the Mansion. “And no hair pulling or biting unless they ask for it, okay?”

“I can’t wait to be rid of you” Logan groaned as the car came to a halt. He exited the car with a low groan, stretching to lose stiffed muscles. Not having to constantly ride in Wade's joke of a car was another reason that he preferred living at Xavier’s Institution. Speaking off:

“There you are. Welcome, welcome.” Xavier rolled into the mansions yard.

“A pleasure to have you, Logan. I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised when I received your response to my inquiry.” He moved towards Logan, offering his hand for a handshake.

Logan inspected the man. He was older, in his 40s maybe. But younger than the Charles Xavier he had worked with. He sported shaggy longer hair that was starting to thin out. Soon he would need to get it trimmed to keep his professional exterior. Along with a beard that was rather spotty and seemed too reminisce of his look in the 70s. Xavier looked like a mix of the two versions that Logan got to meet during his time at the school and it made him wonder how time worked here. Events seemed to play out in different order, they didn’t happen at all or much later than seemed correct.

He shook Xavier’s hand, thanking him for the offer. “Of course. I was surprised when you contacted me.” Logan confessed. His gaze shifted towards the grand building in front of him. It was the same old English style build that he knew, with a few modern elements added here and there.

“Is it familiar to you? The school? I assume you have experienced quite a few dejá-vus since arriving here.” Charles observed Logan.

“I do. Some things are the same. Others don’t match what I know or didn’t happen at all.” He confessed. Already feeling the brother connection build, similar to the one he had with the other Charles.

“You will find your answers. I am sure of it.” Charles turned around motioning Logan to follow him inside. “I think it is best if we continue this conversation in my office.” He looked over his shoulder at Wade, who had waited in the car, listening in on the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be on my way. You call me if you need to get picked up, Pookie!” He waved at Logan in a motherly way.

“You aren’t coming?” He asked, somewhat confused. But then he saw Charle’s face, the intense stare he gave Wade.

“Uhhh, no I technically have a house ban for no apparent reason-“

“You burned down the west wing” Charles answered dryly.

Wade clicked his tongue, “Right, okay. Yeah… But! It’s very modern now.” He chuckled weakly. “You’ll still call me up for a mission, right?” He tried to persuade the professor.

“If the mission takes place outside of my building then yes.” Charles agreed, focusing back on Logan. And leading him inside. Neither of them commented on the cheer that Wade gave as he drove off.

Being back at the school felt surprisingly good to Logan. It was like coming back from a long holiday. Most everything was the same: Students running in the hallways, playing games in the gardens and-

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Logan turned around quickly, looking for whoever addressed him. Some children were buzzing along the halls, none of them too interested in him. Then he spotted her by the stairs. Leaning onto the dark wooden rails of the gallery. The light from the window behind her illuminating her figure.

“Y/n”, he breathed.

“Hi! Charles told me that you wanted to start teaching again.” She made her way downstairs, focus shifting between not falling and keeping her gaze on him. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see him.

He turned more toward her, watching her get closer to ground level. With each step he felt his excitement grow “He contacted me, actually. Asked whether I wanted to work here…”

“Oh really? What a coincidence ”She grinned mischievously, stopping at the end of the stairs and leaning on one of the bannisters. She kept a little space between them. There might be some familiarity between them but she didn’t want to push him too far yet and give him the chance to get closer to her if he felt like it.

But Logan stayed in place: “Do you have anything to do with that?”

She smirked,  and he felt some of his charm return to him . He might be rusty but some things were just engraved in him.

“Maybe” She shrugged, smiling softly with a playful sparkle in her eyes “But I’m assuming that you won’t be teaching history, right?” Y/n teased carefully. The multiverse situation was a thing she wanted to be careful about. Wade had told her a little bit about what had happened to Logan before he transferred but she didn’t know any details.  

“No, I teach PE and defence classes. You do science, right?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, hoping to lose the tension in his body. He threw the tidbit of knowledge into the conversation, hoping that he was right and that the two versions of her had that much in common.

“Chemistry and Literature, yeah.” She smiled. She then looked at her watch before pointing towards another corridor with a sigh “I’d love to talk more, but I need to get to class. Maybe we could meet sometime.” She secured the book in her arms.

“Yes.” He answered with a stiff nod, his hands were getting sweaty.

They stood In awkward silence.

“Maybe over a coffee?” She asked, looking up at him, her lip curled upwards. Her look became more expecting as he watched her in silence.

 He would catch the bait she just threw, right? Scott had laughed when she asked him about what Logan had been like; What this version might be like.

 ‘He’s an asshole’ He said ‘a cocky asshole and who thinks he can charm any girl he likes’ she blushed at that comment ‘But he is into the dark, mysterious type if that is what you are after’

“Maybe”, Logan gave  cold and curtly.

He regretted his demeanor when he saw her smile slip for just a moment.

Fuck.

Her face slipped for a moment “Oh.. okay.” She huffed softly. “See you around then.” Y/n nodded quickly before running off.

...

A routine established itself after the first weeks back at the school. The work there itself was the same. Teach the children standard curricula, training them in controlling their powers and some extracurricular activities.

He would spend some evenings with the other members of Team X ,as they called themselves here. Sometimes he would meet Y/n in the hallway but he didn’t work up the courage to stop and talk to her beyond a quick ‘hello’.

What is wrong with you? You used to sweep women off their feet. She is offering herself to you at any chance and you still can’t manage to ask her out?

He sighed as he changed back into his regular clothes. The class had just ended. It was Friday, still fairly warm for October and the trees looked beautiful in all shades of red, orange and yellow.

 Would be perfect for a romantic walk… A charming, rugged man could ask a woman out for that.

“That guy died a long time ago…” He mumbled to himself. Picking up his bag and closing the locker.

He exited the gym, making his way to his room or rather apartment. Wade managed to burn down the teacher's quarters along with the kitchens and cafeteria in some wicked stunt. No one knew what happened and that was for the best, he guessed.

However, that incident resulted in a modernized reconstruction with more spacious rooms for the teachers and a communal cafeteria that students and members of Team X shared.  Great for extroverts but Logan had to pass it every time he went to his rooms, much to his dismay. To make it worse,  the communal space was separate from the hall via a glass wall, allowing for a perfect view of everyone who tried to sneak past. Which led to uncomfortable situations such as this.

“Logan!” Piotr called, waving his huge metallic arm to get the other man's attention. Logan's initial reaction was to ignore him as he had done many times with the members of his old team.

No, he wanted to do better. He needed to. It was that kind of behavior that made him spiral in the first place. So he took a deep breath and channeled all jolliness available to him after 6 hours of teaching and a generally low level of it to begin with.  He slowly made his way towards the teacher's table.

“Come, eat with us.” Piotr offered him the seat next to him on the thick wooden bench. A seat opposite of… fuck- of fucking course he was in on Wade’s plan to play matchmaker.

 “We can’t have you get scrawny, eh?” he joked.

“Not that that would be likely to occur” Y/n joked as Logan sat down. His look snapped towards her and her eyes widened in shock at what had just come out of her mouth.

A knowing, wicked grin spread across Colossus's face. That fucking asshole…

“What are we having?” Logan asked, ignoring the situation that had just occurred. He tried to keep his gaze on Piotr who was busy filling a plate with whatever was in the big metal pot on the side of the table. His eyes shifted to Y/n every so often.

“Pierogi. I am trying out new recipes for a cooking class with my students” He said proudly, placing the plate in front of Logan “Y/n said, they are very good. Right?” He asked her, putting the woman on the spot.

“Oh, uhm…yeah. I like the new… stuffing.” She said, the answer sounding more like a question, carefully looking at Logan when he tried it. She was thankful for Piotr’s brotherly demeanor and gentle nature. Yet sometimes he would tease her as any older brother liked to do. And they sure liked to do it in front of people that the younger sibling might fancy.

Logan nodded in agreement, complimenting the man for his cooking.

“You cook here regularly?” He asked with a mouthful.

“Of course! Cooking is a very important life skill. As well as baking. You should join one of Y/n’s baking classes, she is very talented.” Colossus complimented the woman, making her grin.

“I plan on holding a workshop on the weekend for older students and alumni. You should come.” She offered, a hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe she was too discrete the last time she tried to get Logan to ask her out. So this time she tried to be more direct with her offer.

“I don’t bake,” Logan answered in a backhanded comment as he continued to eat. He didn’t think too much about it. He had planned to ask her out after lunch. He was overly focused on what he would say to her once the others left to notice how he had sounded.

It only occurred to him when he saw how Y/n visibly deflated. “Oh, right” She hummed, swallowing another bite of her food, eyes looking anywhere but towards the man who had once again rejected her so swiftly.

Piotr, just sighed with disappointment, leaning back in his chair. His hard elbow bumped into Logan’s side.

You fucked it up. Again.

...

“Okay, stop. You mean to tell me that she tried to ask you out not once but TWICE and you rejected her?” Wade paced through the living room. Trying to make sense of what his friend had just told him. “You mean to tell me that you now spend 3 months at that school? Being in her proximity 24/7 and actively avoiding her?”

Logan sat on the familiar black couch that looked even more beaten up than the last time he was at the flat. With disgust, he realized that he didn’t even want to know what caused the new damage.

 “I don’t avoid her”

“Oh no? And yet the few times she does catch you creeping in the halls you manage to scare her off.” Deadpool said down one of the rotatable bar chairs. Swirling dramatically.

“No wonder the girl’s not interested in a sad drunk fuck like you,” Al commented from the table where she sat, carefully packaging her newest acquisition of sellable goods.

“ No, Al that’s the thing! The girl wants him DESPITE being a sad drunk fuck!”  Wade jumped from the chair to pace around some more. He had to come up with a plan to get the two to spend time together, and get to know each other better. Create some closeness to let the sparks fly and catch on.

“That’s even worse.” Al laughed, snoring.

“Thank you for the compliments… Reassuring.” Logan groaned, regretting to even have answered Wade when he asked him about how things were going with Y/n. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be with someone again. He liked her and wanted to get to know her but something was stopping him. The urge to protect her from danger and he still thought of himself as the greatest danger to her and his team.

“On the other hand, she is still interested after being rejected TWICE. So you still have a chance, Pookie.” Wade said, sitting down next to Logan, yet again way too close.

“I’m gonna help you, buddy, Don’t you worry.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Logan's ears “Act three needs some lovin’ and I make sure you get all the loving you need, baby” He whispered towards Logan. And with dread, and a bit of disgust,  Logan accepted that he had no chance of stopping the man.

...

By the time the midterms rolled around, Logan had gotten familiar with the schedule and his  profession once again. He slept better, tended to snap less at people and even his drinking tendencies seemed to get better. Being part of a community felt good and it made him angry at his younger self for rejecting the people who loved him out of some ill-placed ideology: that to keep them safe, he had to distance himself from them.

And yet you are doing it again.

He sighed as he trotted into the community kitchen. He broke his coffee maker in a fit of frustration last week and hadn’t found the time or energy to tell Charles to get a new one. He stayed out of the professor's way for the most part, not wanting to be roped into some conversation about ‘needing therapy’. So he sourced his caffeine intake from the machine that sat in the big, homely department kitchen. Another benefit was that there was always a fresh pot ready and waiting for him. Downside, there were almost always people in the kitchen, waiting for others to join in for conversation and breakfast.

This morning he should be safe from conversation. Most students and some staff went home for the fall semester break, leaving the school running on a minimal level to accommodate those who had no home to go to. There were no classes, meaning that the school apparatus calmed to a halt.

In practice that meant that almost everyone slept in with no pressure to get up early. And for Logan, that meant that he could enjoy his drink in peace before people tried to talk to him.

Lost in thought he strolled into the kitchen. It seemed empty, thank god. He sighed in relief, stretching languidly. The air exiting his lungs in a low groan.

Then a soft click sounded through the room.

A fridge being closed.

“Oh hey, you’re up early.” Y/n appeared behind the full-size fridge door that had previously shielded her from his view. She looked a little tired, not yet fully awake and a bit tousled from sleep.

Aww C’mon. Maybe Wade was right about the universe wanting them to come together. But primarily to annoy him and allow for Wade to give him the ‘I told you so’ speech.

“So are you.”  He answered, leaving on the door frame and watching her pour some creamer into her cup. Upon closer inspection, she did look younger than her other iteration. Her features were softer looking with fewer wrinkles and scars. He needed to ask her about that at some point.

She leaned onto the counter to reach for another cup, taking it out of the overhead cabinet. Proceeding to pour some coffee in it. “How do you take your coffee?” She asked, turning towards him.

“I’ll take two sugars” He answered, moving towards her with slow even steps. The threat of Wade’s ‘help’ kept looming in the back of his mind, pushing him to be more open towards her and to come out of his shell. Who knows what that maniac had in mind?

Y/n hummed in agreement, dropping in two cubes of sugar and stirring the dark liquid before handing it to Logan.

He thanked her softly, holding the porcelain with his much larger hands. He had moved quite close to her, both leaning against the kitchen counter. The closeness and difference in height between them meant that Y/n had to look up to him, to make eye contact.

With a grin he noticed how she shifted her stand, one hand bunching up the material of her cardigan.

You still got it if you let it happen, man.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their drinks and watching the sun paint pictures onto the kitchen surfaces, colored by the stained glass windows.

She was the one who broke the silence. “Are you ready for the training session today?” She asked, turning towards him, shifting her position so that her hip was pressed against the counter.

“Training?” He asked confused, setting down his cup to cross his arms over his chest, the muscles shifting visibly under his skin.

That’s right! Show her what you got!

“Yes, staff training? We got the call from Washington about a mutant security threat. Charles wants us to be ready just in case. Do you read your emails?” She teased, watching him over the rim of her mug.

“I don’t know how that stuff works if I’m honest with ya.” He shrugged “Do you go on missions regularly? On Government orders?” He remembered that Xavier had mentioned something along the lines of that. Some complicated struggles between heroes about government regulation and so on.

“Yes, after the blip it was decided that an X-team force should be established to take care of mutant-related threats or endangerments.” She explained.

He had heard of that, too. “Right. What was that blip again?”

The energy in the room shifted suddenly.

Y/n huffed, almost spilling a bit of her drink. “Ha, that’s a bit of a heavy topic for morning coffee talks.” She looked around uncomfortably. Logan seems to have hit upon a heavy subject.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized quickly. Beating himself up for screwing it up once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” She shook her head, setting down her drink to cross her arms as he did. Only that she seemed to do it defensively. “Half of all life stopped existing for five years and… that left a few scars.” She explained somberly, softly nodding to herself.

Logan blinked, his mind moving at high speed to get the conversation on a good topic again. Anything to turn it around and to prevent her from having a bitter aftertaste to their first proper talk.

Yet it was her, once again, that stepped up. She noticed how he got nervous, eyes wandering, shoulders sagging.

“I’ll explain it to you later. When we are not so pressed on time.” She reached out slowly, placing her hand on his arm, squeezing it in reassurance. Y/n smiled at him softly, moving around him to exit the kitchen and prepare for the day ahead.

Without thinking Logan placed a hand over hers, just in time before she pulled hers away. It had her stop in her tracks. Her eyes moved to where his rough callused palm warmed the back of her hand, up to his eyes. He was watching her with intention.

She was nervous. This was either going to be an invitation to finally get to know him or he had enough of her and told her to stop fancying him.

“You can explain it to me on a walk to the lake? Tonight?” He asked, one eyebrow raising in question. His hand squeezed hers gently.

A second of silence followed.

She exhaled, the stress leaving her body but she had to keep her composure. A grin spread across her face “Sounds like a plan.” She held eye contact for a few beats, then let her hand slip out of his hold as she left.

That’s how you do it, Tiger!

Her lips pressed together to keep from smiling too hard as she exited the hallway.

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[thepixelelf]

warnings: story starts after a car crash. wc: 1.6k

[sooo, what did I miss?] The first thing you notice when you come to is the acrid fumes in the air. They tickle your nose and rouse a cough from the deepness of your chest, which travels up your throat and comes out as a choke. Your head feels like it's filled with seawater -- like it's been drowning for hours, but you can't let the pain and grogginess hinder you from moving. You have to get out of your car if it's smelling this much like gasoline, and fast.

Your entire body feels stiff. At first, you try to flex your fingers, get the blood pumping enough to make use of them at all. Opening your eyes proves to not be much help. The fumes sting against your eyeballs, and you can't see past the engaged airbag anyhow. Instead, you keep your eyes screwed shut and grunt as you lift both arms to push the deflating airbag out of your way. On muscle memory alone, you fumble for the key in the ignition. Your fingers, for a few seconds, are too weak to twist the key, but after a few determined yanks, you successfully turn off your car. With one possibility of an explosion knocked off the list, you heave yourself off the car seat and shove your body into the driver's side door, thankful when you can open it just fine.

Whatever you'd hit after veering off the road, at least it didn't--

Fuck, why did you veer off the road?

As you fall out of your car, hacking up a storm, having inhaled too much smoke, you try to gather your memories together, but find nothing. There's this lingering feeling... You know something made you jerk both hands on the wheel and swerve off the freeway.

You just don't know what.

Deciding that the memory will probably come back to you later, you stumble a good number of steps away from your car and collapse once again to catch your breath. The cool night air does your lungs well, easing the fire that's still burning in your chest little by little. A metallic taste coats the inside of your mouth. You'd bitten your tongue during the crash.

The roads around you are empty, but what did you expect at sometime-past-three in the goddamn morning? You'd been... yes, you were on your way to the other side of the city, choosing the freeway over the hustle and bustle of traffic in the city streets. Seungcheol had called you.

Well, no. One of Seungcheol's friends had called you using his phone. They asked you to come pick him up from the club they were at because he was apparently "blasted". Though, he was lucid enough to have his friends call you rather than his older sister, who you suspected would chew him out for drinking during his university's exam season.

Even though you're closer to Seonhui, you tend to err on the side of the "cool uncle" type to Seungcheol, despite being only four years older than him. You know, the type of person you can call to pick you up from the bar without getting upset at you for being there in the first place. Someone who has no stake in any of your life decisions, so they get the privilege of not having to judge you for any of them.

He'd said something about Seonhui -- you had heard his voice yelling in the background of the call. Something about how she didn't have to know and about something important he had to tell you when you showed up.

You groan thinking about him. Poor guy; now his sister actually does have to know because her friend is an idiot who drives off freeways for no discernible reason. Feeling around your pockets, you sigh in relief when you find your phone. There's no way you'd want to search your now hellmouth of a car for it.

You know the logical thing to do first is call emergency services, but you could be on the phone with them for who knows how long. Might as well tell the person who's depending on you that you can't make it. Dialling the most recent number isn't difficult, really, although you're starting to feel the chill in the air. You shiver as you bring your phone up to your ear.

"You've reached the voicemail of--"

His voice interrupts the automated one. "Choi Seungcheol."

"--please leave a message after the tone."

You frown at the beep that rings in your ear. Seungcheol should be looking at his phone if he's waiting for you to pick him up, or at least have the ringer on. You wait only a few seconds after hanging up to call him again.

This time, the low trill rings twice before he picks up.

"...Hello?"

You're a bit out of it at this point, having just crashed your car and all, but you think he sounds... slow, like he just woke up, but also hesitant. Since you can't think of a reason he'd sound like that, though, you just ignore it.

"Hey, listen," you say, voice raspy from all those noxious fumes. "I can't pick you up anymore. Sorry"

He doesn't respond for a moment.

A long moment.

"...What?"

He must be pretty drunk.

"I got into a little accident. Princess--" That's what you, Seonhui, and Seungcheol affectionately call your shitty 2007 Honda Civic. You look over at your still-smoldering car and grimace. "--she's done for."

More silence. It's strange... there's no sound in the background, either. Did he move outside?

"Anyway, you're gonna either have to bite the bullet and call Seonhui or maybe try an Uber--"

"Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Your words come to a halt at his sudden, bitter tone, and you let out an incredulous huff of a laugh. "Look, man, I crashed Princess on the side of the road, so I'm sorry" --your tongue curls sarcastically around the apology-- "that I can't pick you up from your drunken bender."

"How do you know about Princess?"

"What the hell are you on about, Seungcheol? How do I know about my car?" An exasperated breath escapes you, and you choke on it for a second. After the short coughing fit has cleared, you bring your phone back to your ear. "You're drunker than I thought. Don't you have an exam soon or something?"

"Exam-- who is this?"

That makes you pause.

"Seungcheol," you say, simply. "It's me."

Another moment of quiet passes, and you wonder to yourself if you've suffered a concussion.

Then he asks, "What's my favourite food?"

"What does that have to do--"

"Answer the question."

Sighing, you wrap your free arm around your middle in a futile attempt to stay warm. "You tell everyone it's pork cutlet, but I know for a fact that you keep a stash of white chocolate in your room."

You hear him exhale. "Fuck."

"I don't underst--"

"Where are you?" he asks, a frantic tone to his voice now.

"Umm..." You glance around. "Highway 216... close to exit thirty-four."

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you."

You shake your head, struggling to keep up. "What? If you're calling me an Uber, don't bother. I have to call EMS to file the--"

"Don't," Seungcheol insists, and you have no idea why, but you feel inclined to listen. "Listen to me. Do not call anyone. Wait until I get there."

"There's a fine if you don't report an accident in twenty-four hours."

"Trust me." The sound of a car door slamming shut on his end of the line only gives you more questions. "You don't need to bother."

=

It takes only fifteen minutes for Seungcheol to find you, and by then you're shivering from head to toe.

A car you've never seen before pulls over and parks hastily near where you're standing (the cold ground got a little too cold). Its four-way flashers turn on before a familiar-ish figure exits and starts making his way towards you, silhouetted by the car's headlights.

"Since when can you drive?" you call out first, since it's definitely a surprise to you seeing your friend's little brother behind the wheel. You could've sworn Seonhui was whining about his lack of license a week ago. "And-- wait, should you be driving? You were just drinking--" He steps even closer, and you see the wisps of his hair lit by the headlights behind him. "Are you blond? When did that--"

You don't get the chance to finish your question. Seungcheol pulls you tightly into him, his hand on the back of your head pressing your face into his coat so all you can really say is "oomph."

Seungcheol's never really hugged you before. At least, not like this. His fingers dig into the fabric of your clothes, like he's clutching desperately to something that will slip from his grasp if he loosens his hold even in the slightest.

It faintly registers to you that he doesn't smell like alcohol at all.

You try to speak, muffled as you are against his coat. "Seungcheol, what--"

"I dyed my hair last week," he says, breathless. The words are panted over your ear, and it's then you fully realize how closely he's wrapped himself around you. You go to say something about how you saw his black hair just the other day, but he continues. "I'm four years sober next month."

The numbers are not crunching. "That doesn't--"

"And my license," he says, finally pulling back just enough so that you can see his face. "I got that in 2018."

You frown. "It's 2016."

Seungcheol breathes out your name, but all you hear is warning bells. You can tell by the pitying look on his face -- as much as it's mixed with relief. You're not going to like what he says next.

"It's 2023," he tells you, saying your name again like it's precious. He holds you tighter. "You've been missing for seven years."

[lollytea]

Delighted myself thinking about the witch kids again, specifically their various attempts to build a replacement portal during the Summer. I'm picturing lots of brainstorm sessions that stretch late into the night and when they get tired enough, they devolve into arguing over who gets the last piece of pizza or playing truth or dare or whatever.

Hunter is feeling really proud of himself for having helped Belos rebuild a portal before. He has experience! He can make himself super useful! And then Amity 'Woman in STEM' Blight is also aiming for the same thing. She's an inventor's daughter. Her Dad's main area of expertise is using magic to power technology. She has plenty of opinions on the mechanical side of things.

Hunter and Amity either click extremely well and are plotting away at a prototype immediately or they disagree on every trivial detail and cannot go five minutes without arguing about it. There's no real resentment here. They're both just used to doing everything themselves and struggle to work as a team.

I don't think the project would get off the ground without Luz. She keeps everybody from wasting time with dud ideas because she's already spent tons of time in the Boiling Isles attempting to build a portal home. She knows exactly what WONT work cuz she's already tried it. She's also got a knack for thinking outside of the box and knows that even though glyphs are rendered useless in this realm, they can still be utilized. If she draws just the right glyph combo and finds a bit of magic for the glyphs to soak up, she's pretty sure they can light this portal's engine up.

Vee reminds them that she's still got a supply of Hexes Holdem cards, which have been working pretty well for keeping her human form. Luz, who had forgotten those things existed, nearly hits the roof in excitement.

Vee doesn't contribute much to the whole construction process, but while she does supervise. She did a health and safety course while at Summer Camp and is diligently making sure nobody is getting their asses blown up.

Portal Building is not Willow's strong suit. She does not have Luz and Hunter's experience, Amity's engineering knowledge or Gus' enthusiasm for tinkering with human technology. So she does what she does best and offers support. She hypes her smart friends up. And when they start doubting that they're actually making any progress, Willow swoops in to encourage them that if ANYBODY can build a portal, her best friends can!! Once the team realizes that they're gonna need something super strong to hold the portal upright, Willow beams. Her vines!! Her vines are tough as hell!! She can do that!!

Gus falls behind a little at first. He might be a prodigy but his skills are quite dependent on the existence of actual magic, so he struggles a bit to find his purpose here. He's very eager to work with human technology but Luz knows more about them than he does. He's smart enough to offer ideas but Hunter and Amity always come up with them before he does because they're both annoyingly STEM brained and have gotten a bit competitive about it. Gus is given the task of gathering equipment for the portal with Vee and he tries not to pout about it. After they managed to track down a half busted TV at a lawn sale, Vee takes him to a petstore to cheer him up. Gus gloomily stares at the hamsters running in their little wheels. He idly thinks about an article he read in one of his human magazines. About how hamsters in wheels can create energy. Unfortunately, hamsters aren't magic.

Cut to 2 days later when the team realizes that the Hexes Holdem cards just aren't gonna cut it. They don't possess nearly enough magic to power up a portal. It's not gonna work. All the time they've spent on this, and it's not even gonna work. They need something else. Anything else.

Luz looks like she's gonna burst into tears. Amity is pacing back and forth. Hunter is like this close 🤏 to slamming his head against the wall in an effort to rattle a genius idea out of his brain. Willow is making a valiant effort to keep everybody from having a full blown meltdown.

Gus is staring intently at Flapjack who is pecking away at the floorboards again. Then he's like "Hey....hear me out....what if-?"

[kiekiecarrera]

a bunch of questions while I drink my coffee,

How many Jiara kisses do you think we will get in season 4?

Will we get a sex scene (making out and then black out, but it's obvious they're about to do the deed)

Patch up scene?

Fight and make up?

1010209399393939200203 more 'I love you's?

Them doing domestic things?

A little PDA in front of the other Pogues?

Jealous!Kie or JJ?

ily muah

I know you've had 19 coffees since you sent this but efwelkcsncln here we go

I want so many kisses in each episode but realistically, knowing it's obx, if we're talking established couple, maybe 2 or 3?

I go back and forth on this one, but I think we might. It's definitely gonna be a big fade to black if it happens, and the whole thing really depends on the plot, but there's a big chance we will.

PLEASE. I don't want either them to get hurt but it's obx so they will probably get hurt so yes. Would love to see JJ fussing over Kie tbh, trying to clean up a wound. Or maybe she gets a small bump on the head and he's just making sure she doesn't have a concussion the whole time.

Yes! I absolutely don't want them to breakup - i've always felt once they get together, they're together. But arguing is part of their dynamic, so I can see them fighting and making up. Bonus points if JJ softens up and makes more effort to apologize when he fucks up.

YES. Kie will def say it. Having JJ say it in a casual setting might quite literally send me into a spiral.

ANON I WANT EVERY SINGLE THING YOU LISTED. They already have domestic vibes in their dynamic (think them collecting food for the jb and sarah in 1x10, or JJ waiting patiently for Kie to hand him a drink at the beginning of 1x06, or 2x08 when they take turns driving without even communicating about it - this is a small detail that drives me insane actually, because they switch twice and they never talk about it, just have a feeling for when the other should be behind the wheel, or even them fishing in 3x01) so I can really see them being super domestic and complementary in their couple dynamic.

I can see them being quiet about it, but it comes naturally. Again, they're already fairly tactile, so I can totally see them being even closer, casually having their arms around each other, always sitting close together, stealing a kiss every now and then (and more if the others complain)

Jealous!Kie. We've seen jealous JJ and mostly he gets angsty and pines in silence and I just need him to be happy ffs. We haven't seen jealous Kie though, and I would just love to see her drop everything she thought she believed in and become very vocally territorial if some girl is hitting on JJ. You know JJ would love it too. He would tease her about it and then just enjoy the way she drapes herself all over him.

thank you for this it was so fun!! <3

[ciaossu-imagines]

I was lucky enough to have already gotten and answered a request for some dirty Eyeshield 21 headcanons but I couldn’t resist doing more, using this prompt! As per usual, I tried to get a variety of characters in it, picked via random wheel spin, and I hope ya’ll enjoy!

Monta

Aqua: Top or bottom?

Monta likes to think he’s a top. And he’ll try…most of his favourite positions involve him being on top. It’s just that, even when he’s on top, he’s just so lost in how good you feel that’s he’s putty in your hands. He’ll do whatever, pretty much, just please keep making him feel that good.

Azure: What’s your biggest turn-on?

Monta is a very visual man, and he really gets turned on watching his partner undress, even if they’ve been together for years and he’s seen it all. He goes absolutely crazy if his partner dresses up for him, whether it be a sexy costume, pretty lingerie, or even just a cute bra and panty set, and stripteases almost have him cumming in his tighty whities before they come off.

Baby: Have you ever had sex with someone of the same gender?

I don’t personally think of Monta as interested in the same gender. I think he’s pretty straight, to be honest, so I’ll personally say no here. But for those of you who do see him as not being heterosexual completely, or at all, feel free to keep thinking of him that way! If you headcanon him that way, your answer can be yes completely because hey, alternate character interpretations are a thing and that is fabulous and doesn’t hurt me none.

Musashi

Carolina: Have you ever had sex with someone of a different gender?

Again, I feel Musashi has had sex with someone of the opposite gender, but, as with the last ask, if your interpretation of him is different, my answer doesn’t change your headcanons or your view of him as being just as valid.

Cerulean: What’s your biggest turn-off?

While I’m not saying that Musashi is vanilla to the core, he’s not into any sort of violent play in any way. He doesn’t want to choke his partner, or spank them, and definitely is not into hitting him. Being a brat or trying to goad him into those sort of things by challenging his manliness or saying that he doesn’t have the balls to put you in your place isn’t going to make him accept those things and will only make it so that he goes completely soft, leaves, and ends the relationship and any friendship you might have had with him.

Cyan: What’s your sexual orientation?

I think it’s pretty safe for you all to assume how I’m going to answer this question. I do think he’s largely heterosexual. He might have had a phase where he was curious about what it would be like with a male, and it’s not that those thoughts never ever cross his mind, but they’re just not strong enough for me to see him acting on them, and he does have a stronger attraction to women. But, as loud as I can digitally say this, he is, while I wish he wasn’t, a fictional character and is thus whatever you personally interpret him as because everyone can think what they like about a fictional character without it really impacting anyone else.

Kid

Cobalt: Rough or soft?

He likes variety, honestly. He doesn’t want his sex life to be just purely one or the other. It all really depends on his mood, your mood, the situation, how much energy he has…like, sometimes he’s feeling really relaxed and lazy and just feels really in love with you and wants slow, sensual, almost teasing spooning sex. Sometimes, he’s just plain out worn out by everything he’s done that day and is sore but you’re in the mood and you got him turned on and he just wants you to hop on top and plain out use him as quickly and roughly as you need to. Other times, his libido is running high, and he just wants you more than usual and rough quickies throughout the day are his favourite way of handling that.

Cornflower: Are you a virgin?

I feel like Kid actually lost his virginity pretty early, to be honest, but it was more because he just really wasn’t in a great place mentally and really needed to feel wanted and good enough and it’s not a good memory overall. He would probably count his next time being sexually active, where he came into it as mentally sound as Kid gets and was doing it for better reasons, as when he actually lost his virginity.

Denim: Are you naturally submissive or dominant?

Kid’s a switch, but leans more towards the quietly dominant side and, ya’ll can view him any way you want, but nothing anyone says or writes will every sway me from that because, smut wise, that’s probably my strongest headcanon for him.

Akaba

Electric: Do you prefer lingerie to regular underwear?

Either one is about the same to Akaba…what really gets him all hot and bothered is slipping his hands up your skirt or seeing you bend over and your shirt gaping just the right amount to notice that you have absolutely nothing on. A partner going commando or braless really does turn him on. He’ll hide it well if you two are out in public together, but it really does get to him and is one of the two perfect ways to tease him.

Indigo: Do you like phone sex?

Notice how I said one of? It’s because this…this is the other perfect way to tease him. Sex is very much an auditory thing for Akaba. The sounds you make, the words you say, the way your breath hitches as certain moments, even just the sound of your wet pussy really, really turn him on and drive him to his own orgasm. So it’s no surprise that, if you two can’t see each other or if you just want to drive him wild while he’s busy and can’t make it to you, phone sex really hits all the right buttons for him.

Lapis: What’s your best fantasy?

He would never actually do it. It’s one that he knows is best lived as just a fantasy, but when he just really needs to get off and porn isn’t doing anything for him, he likes to imagine himself as this huge rock-star and you as an adoring groupie…he barely even gets off stage before you’re on your knees, begging to suck him off, not even caring how many people are around or who sees…so he lets you do just that before bending you over, holding you by the hair and just taking you in front of all the people watching. He really isn’t into the actual reality of public sex but there’s just something about the fantasy that gets him every time.

Kisaragi

Midnight: Are you into role-play?

I honestly don’t think this is one of his kinks. Make no mistake, this boy is kinkier than a rolled-up garden hose, but role-play just doesn’t hold a lot of appeal to him, though he would try to appreciate it if his partner was into it.

Oxford: Have you ever had sex with more than one person in a 24 hour period?

This one is a definite no, at least in my opinion. Kisaragi is completely monogamous to me. He might find other people attractive while he’s in a sexual relationship with someone, and would appreciate the fact that others wanted him, but he remains completely faithful to whoever he’s in a sexual relationship with.

Periwinkle: Do you use sex toys often?

This one is a yes. Kisaragi really likes anal play on himself, and he has toys that he uses on himself while masturbating. Anal plugs and beads, a prostate massager…when he’s living by himself or just with a partner, I could really see him having a sex doll that has both big tits and a realistic penis that he uses. With his partner, he’d be all into incorporating toys into foreplay and sex and would definitely have a huge pegging kink.

Clifford D. Louis

Persian: Would you do public sex at all?

I feel like Clifford would actually really like public sex. He enjoys making ‘home movies’ with partners, with getting blowjobs in places where there’s a high risk of getting caught, of getting his partner off with his fingers in a public place with people around and smugly watching them try to stay quiet and stoic so as not to alert other people…really, very much his thing.

Powder: Vanilla sex or spiced up?

Spiced up, all the way. In my personal opinion, I feel like Clifford is one of the kinkiest characters in this entire manga.

Prussian: Confess a kink to me?

As mentioned, I definitely think he loves public sex and has an exhibitionist streak in him. Another one I see being huge for him is him having a worship kink or even, going a step further, kind of a slave kink. He fully expects his sexual partners to worship him and likes to have them call him master, to have them fulfil his every want and order, and to thank him for the privilege of doing so.

Karin

Royal: What’s your favourite position?

I feel like standard missionary position is what she feels most comfortable with and some variation on that is what gets her to relax and cum the quickest.

Sapphire: When was the last time you had sex?

Karin doesn’t have a really high libido. She never has and she can go a while before she’s really reminded of her own sexual needs. If her partner makes it clear that they need a release, she can usually get in the mood but otherwise, she really only starts to crave sex about once or twice every couple of weeks.

Sky: Do you read smut/watch porn?

Okay, but Karin doesn’t really find that watching porn does much for her but smut…smut does it for her, both written and in comic form. She might even, under a different pen name, put out some dirty manga in her early days as a mangaka, just to make a little bit of extra money.

Riku

Teal: Where was the strangest place you ever had sex?

Okay, but as long as there was no risk of them getting caught, I feel like sex in odd places is a slight kink for Riku. The hayloft in a barn is probably the strangest place he’s ever had sex and, while he was so turned on in the moment that it didn’t really matter, it’s not an experience he’d probably ever repeat or recommend. Straw is not the most comfortable thing to have jammed up against your balls, he can guarantee you that one.

Tiffany: Would you/do you do sex work?

Nope. He wouldn’t even think of it and Riku wouldn’t be entirely comfortable dating someone who does sex work or even someone who did sex work in the past.

Turquoise: Have you ever taken part in group sex?

Nope again. Even the thought of it makes him limper than a wet noodle. Riku is another one who is very monogamous. He doesn’t really enter into casual sexual relationships, even, and having sex with more than one person at a time or having two running sexual relationships kind of disgusts him a little. He won’t kink shame if that is someone’s thing, but it’s not his and he’ll expect the same monogamy from you or any partner he takes.

Gaou

True: Do you remember your first time?

Now, if there was anyone who I would headcanon as remembering losing their virginity, right down to the tiniest detail, it’s Gaou. I think that, even if things didn’t work out with whoever he lost his virginity to, it’s just a respect thing for him. He cared enough about them to lose his virginity to them, it was a pretty big moment for him, and it mattered enough that he feels he owes it to that person to remember it, though he doesn’t dwell on it and would never dream about comparing a current partner to that experience.

Ultramarine: Do you do/enjoy oral?

This man goes insane for oral. He really does love your taste and he can and will give you oral until you’re begging him to stop, until his jaw goes numb or starts to hurt and even then, he might push through just to have you get off just one more time. He wasn’t skilled at it at first, just wildly enthusiastic, but gets better at it as time goes on and he learns what you like, especially if you’re kind enough to give him some guidance on that front. It doesn’t matter if he’s got you held up against a wall with his head buried between your legs, if you’re sitting on his face, if you’re just laying back and enjoying it…it’s all fantastic to him. As for receiving oral, he loves it. It feels fantastic…he can’t really get off that way though. Truth be told, he’s definitely above average in terms of penis size and girth and it’s really, really hard for his partner to fit all of him into their mouth. Like, there’s no deep-throating Gaou right down to the root so he never really gets to experience that, though he doesn’t blame you for it and accepts that it’s just not going to be something he’ll get to have. He sure loves watching you suck him off though and it’s one of his favourite forms of foreplay, especially when you use both hands and so much so when you pay attention to his balls as well.

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

Hi!

So I've been on various anti-depressants on incline or staggered dosage for several years now, I'm not a medical expert by any means but I do have plenty of personal experience I can share.

To start off with; depending on the dose, medication and if you have any other conditions like ADHD alongside your depression or anxiety, the first month can be rough. Not always, and it might not be awful, but you might find the adjustment period can be a bit gruelling. Some people experience temporary nausea, moodswings, fatigue, uncontrollable or unusual emotions, ect. Stick. With. It.

It gets better. Your body adjusts. It settles. Obviously if you're experiencing negative side-effects or symptoms of an allergen stop the medication immediately and talk to your GP, but otherwise the emotional rollercoaster of the first month is just something you have to ride out.

Secondly re; dosages, there's a difference between developing a tolerance to a drug that renders it inefficient at its current dose or in whole, and reaching the full potential of what effect that drug has on you and your body. "Going level" is actually what you want in an anti-anxiety and anti-depression medication. The drug is supposed to help you regulate and find a new normal. Think of it like oiling a wheel so it always turns smoothly. You don't necessarily want the wheel to turn quicker, you just don't want it to stick. If you hit the point where you think "huh, maybe I don't need this anymore," you're doing it right, and you should stay on that dose.

Thirdly, you'll still feel things like anxiety in specific circumstances. My medication has helped me to regulate my anxiety on the daily and not feel as much as before in general terms, but if I'm doing something like going to a convention or waiting for a test result I'll still feel circumstantial anxiety. This is totally normal and depending on your daily medication you might still be able to take non-daily medication when this happens. I still take Kahms (Kalms?) anti-anxiety pills with me to conventions and stuff. It might take you a while to find something that doesn't interfere with your daily medication.

Fourth; Drinking on quite a few anti-depressants becomes an immediate recipe for puking. I'm on a very high dose for mine and even a single shot of Malibu in a full glass of coke makes me feel sick. I've had to stop drinking altogether, even socially, so if you like a glass of wine with your dinner you might wind up sorely disappointed. Just an FYI. My doctor told me about "no heavy drinking" on the tablets but he neglected to tell me a double vodka would have me on my knees in the backyard like a college teen again.

This was so informative and helpful, thank you! Luckily I don't drink at all, so that won't be a problem, but I would be the type to quit it after a week if I felt like I was overly moody, so it's good to know that I'll need to give it a chance.

I should be fine with situational anxiety. I of course have that now, but it just doesn't go away after the situation, and then I dwell on it for years. So, if it actually begins and ends with a situation for once, I'll be thrilled.

The info about "going level" is wonderful. That's exactly the kind of thing that I wanted to know, and i think it will help me find the right medication and dosage.

Really, thank you so much for your detailed and thoughtful advice. You're giving me hope that I might actually feel better.

[violetjedisylveon]

Tour Or Date?

Kaesoka Mermaid AU chapter 4

Summary: The docks are still closed, Kaeden goes to Selda’s until Ashla (Ahsoka) asks for a tour of Raada from her. One-sided Gay panic ensues.

Word count: 1,998

Warnings: implied death, mentions of death.

A/N: Happy MerMay and May the Fourth everyone! I have more gay mermaid stuff for you(even though Ahsoka isn't in her Mer form at all this chapter) and also world building! Yay!

Kaesoka Mer AU Masterpost

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Sagen hit the deck with a loud thump, Selda flinched at the force of it, he didn't get up right away. Selda felt colder the longer he didn't rise.

Alameré stared at her husband's limp form, Selda glanced between her hand hovering over his wound and Sagen, he gripped Alameré's hand, her head snapped back towards him.

"He needs you more. I'll be fine." He assured her.

The woman blinked for a moment, then snapped back to her senses and nodded. She ran over the slippery deck to her husband's side and ran her healing hands over his body. Sagen lurched up and retched up water.

Alameré was naturally gifted with healing, and gifted with an intuitive knowledge of the sea. It's why she was, er, had been such a great captain.

The ship lurched, Selda raced to the steering wheel to regain control of the ship. The sea serpent was certainly determined.

It had been stopping anyone from leaving for months, they needed to clear the trade routes, it was blocking some more important routes too.

Alameré was known for dealing with sea monsters, the noticeable lack being part of the reason she had moved to Raada, so she had been contracted to handle it. Of course, there was a reason Alameré and Sagen had given up their seafaring days. Two reasons.

Their daughters.

I will get them back home. Selda swore as he watched his friends stagger back onto their feet.

XXX

Kaeden checked the port, as she had done every day this week, it was still closed.

Odd. It's not closed this long without a reason. She thought.

She made her way over to Selda's, also as she had done everyday. She was starting to debate quitting her sea farming job and working at Selda's full time as an actual employee, she'd get more money that way.

Selda paid about as well as her job did, the only reason she had stuck with such a hazardous job was the pay (and full health coverage for injuries sustained on job), it gave her enough income to cover most of her bills, and Miara's income covered whatever was left and they usually had a little left over for emergencies.

Of course part of the reason Kaeden made that was because she worked so much. She might not have to work as much and about make the same if she switched her job.

All of it depended on if the Empire would let her quit, they might keep her on as a seasonal worker.

She slipped in through the backdoor and found everyone preparing for the day. Miara waved to her.

"Ports still closed?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Guess you'll have to work here again." Miara shrugged.

"If we want to keep the house, yeah, guess I will." Kaeden said.

It was an uneventful morning bussing tables, it passed in a dull blur.

She cleared off a table and took the dishes to the back. She almost dropped the dish bin when she saw who was waiting there.

Ashla was leaning against the wall by the employees only door, she smiled at her.

"Just who I was looking for." Ashla said.

"You were looking for me? Why?" Kaeden asked, struggling to hold the bin up with her shock.

"I was wondering if you could show me around town." Ashla said, giving her a warm smile that made her heart race.

"Why do you want me? To do that, I mean." Kaeden said. Maker, her face was burning.

"I know you, and if memory serves, you don't actually work here." Ashla said.

Kaeden knew she needed to say no, her wages from Selda were less than if she was an actual employee (not enough to cause her any further financial strain, Selda was too kind for that), but they helped her pay rent, bills and food costs without having to take too much from her and Miara's meager funds. Of course when she did her actual job, she added to those small funds.

She needed to say no.

But couldn't.

Something about Ashla was enchanting and she couldn't deny her. It was like the trance sirens put their victims in. Wow, that was dark.

"If you're worried about losing money, I can pay you." Ashla offered.

"You would pay me to be your tour guide? Why not just get an actual tour?" Kaeden asked.

Ashla cocked her head slightly.

"I think you will be far more interesting." She smiled softly.

There was such warmth in her gaze, Kaeden could feel it heating up her cheeks and insides.

"Oh gods, just go with her, you're blocking the way." Viserric, a Mikkian busser, groaned behind her.

Kaeden, horrifyingly, squeaked and jumped away from them, nearly crashing into the wall before Ashla caught the sleeve of her shirt.

I wanna die! She cried internally. She wished she could sink into the floor.

"So I guess you're free?" Ashla prompted with a cat-like grin.

XXX

“So have you lived here your whole life?” Ashla asked.

They were walking down the path towards the main road along the port. Selda was smart enough to build his place further inland and significantly up to avoid tsunamis. Her parents bought a house in a similar location, close enough to see the ocean and any trouble from it, but comfortably away from the tsunami line.

It made her work commute a bit of a pain, but the safety of mind was more important.

The extensive coral reef system that grew around the entire island of Raada helped diminish the effect of tsunamis.

“No, my parents moved here when I was four, basically as soon as Miara could travel they came.” Kaeden answered, fastening her coat against the cold sea breeze.

“Why were they so eager to come here?” Ashla inquired as she swayed down the steps with an ethereal grace.

“Selda retired out here, it was a calm, safe place to raise children away from nosey people.” Kaeden said.

“Prices weren't half bad either.” She joked half-heartedly.

Ashla laughed a bit at her bad joke.

“What do they do?” She asked, looking at her with those mesmerizing blue eyes.

Stop thinking like that! She's a stranger! A pretty stranger but a still stranger! Kaeden internally scolded herself.

“My mother was a captain, she was apparently successful enough to retire young and care for her family. My father worked on her ship. Apparently my mother was quite good at dealing with troublesome sea life.” Kaeden tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Troublesome sea life was what the sea monster that cost her parents lives and Selda’s arm was called when they were contacted to take care of it. In the later years there really hadn't been much difference between the old regime and the Empire, it just wasn't as openly hostile towards the magical creatures.

“What happened to them?” Ashla asked softly.

“They died when I was twelve. They were contacted to deal with a sea monster causing trouble. The sea monster got dealt with but neither of them made it back.” Kaeden said shortly.

Selda had been the one to tell them, she could so clearly remember the moment, she didn't remember the words he said, but she remembered his devastated face, and the bandages on what was left of his arm.

Miara blamed him. Screamed it was his fault and that he should have died instead. Looking back on it now, Selda wished the same in that moment.

“I'm sorry, that's horrible.” Ashla said, gentle and sincere in her song-like voice.

“It happens to everyone.” Kaeden shrugged.

She'd had to adapt quickly to the loss of her parents, dropping from school to take care of her sister's needs. Her mother's library was a sufficient replacement, she had whatever subject she wanted at her fingertips.

“I’m still sorry that happened to you.” Her companion said.

Kaeden looked out to the sea, studying the storming waters intently.

A jet of water shot up, followed by another, then another, close to the shore, much closer to the docks than they normally got.

“Look!” She pointed the pod of creatures out.

“Oh whoa!” Ashla pulled a pair of macro binoculars out of her bag.

“Those are Corellian dolphins! They almost never come near inhabited islands anymore!” She exclaimed.

“Really? I saw them all the time as a kid.” Kaeden commented.

“Was the port this busy when you were a kid?” Ashla asked, not looking away from the dolphins.

“No, it's a recent development.” Kaeden muttered.

Once the Empire showed up, a lot of the stranger sea life fled.

The dolphins left after a few minutes, probably heading to the other side of the island.

“So, is this the only town on Raada?” Ashla asked as they walked through the winding streets. 

The pier was almost completely occupied by Imperial facilities, the local shops and goods started in the street behind that. The Empire had forced a lot of shops to move.

“Yeah, it's the main settlement. There's some fishing villages built up along the east and west sides, they usually come in by boat to sell, but more inland it's either small groups or people who just want to be left alone.” She said.

“And of course a few of the houses closer to the shore are rented out to visitors for vacation, as you know.” She added.

“Interesting, the area you directed me to was certainly very quiet. It had a wonderful view of the stars.” Ashla hummed.

I'm glad I didn't send her to a shitty house. Kaeden thought.

“Who lives along the south beach?” Ashla asked her.

“The southern coves are completely empty, they're really hard and dangerous to get to. I think there's only a few old ladies who live anywhere near there.” Kaeden said.

Her mother had visited with those old folks as regularly as she could for living on the other side of the island. She would bring them freshly made food and produce grown in their garden, Kaeden regretfully had neglected their garden since her passing.

Her mother would bring her, and Miara, when they could handle the journey, her father never came, something about the old ladies not liking him very much. Whenever she asked, her mother would say that they always be aware of the needs of others and be willing to offer help when they needed it.

“Kaeden?” Ashla’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

Ashla smiled that mesmerizing grin and laughed a little, it was a bright, cheery sound.

“I was just asking if you could direct me to the quickest path to where those old ladies live.” Ashla said.

Kaeden stared at her.

“You want to talk to them?” She asked.

“Yes, in my experience the older folk have weirder stories.” Ashla said.

“Oh.” Kaeden scratched her neck uncertainly.

“I don't even know if any of them are still alive.” She said cautiously.

“Would you like to find out?” Ashla asked, leaning towards her.

“Uh… Kaeden glanced away from the memorizing blue eyes, now that she was so close she could see flecks of deep storm gray in the beautiful blue.

“I understand if you don't want to, it just sounds like you've been out there a few times.” Ashla said, leaning back.

Kaeden glanced up at the sky, it wasn't noon yet, and if she hurried, she could be back at a decent time. Yeah, that could work and-

Fuck it, she was lying to herself and she knew it.

She didn't want Ashla to leave.

“Sure, at this rate, the docks aren't going to be open by tomorrow, so what's the harm?” Kaeden decided.

Ashla smiled warmly at her.

“Wonderful.” She said.

She smoothly stepped to the side, gesturing for her to take the lead.

Is this a bad idea? Kaeden ignored the thought.

“Right this way.” She said, gladly leading Ashla to the little used paths to the other side of the island.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Sagen and Alameré are Kaeden and Miara's parents.

If you have any questions about this AU please feel free to ask!

May the Fourth Be With You!

VJS Out!

[pixeldotgamer]

[john mulaney voice] and i said “hey! that’s just the same concept again!”

[capricorn-stark]

Late Night Drives w the Batboys

warning: none

a/n: just trying headcanons lol, lmk me what you think. also, tysm once again for 100 follows you guys!!!

Dick Grayson

The drives probably happen after a date or after he picks you up from work/uni on a Friday night

First thing he does every time is turning on the radio

He’s down for whatever you like listening to, but if you’re good with anything it’s probably just pop hits

You’ll probably hear him humming some of the tunes under his breath or tapping his fingers against the wheel to match the beat

He loves talking and making conversations with you while driving

Will tell you about all sorts of crazy shit going on in his life, whether it’s about his day job or what happens during patrols

Loves listening to your stories and about the random issues going on in your life, gives great advice (when it’s not him making the decisions) and is just generally wonderful to talk to

He feels like the type of guy to take your hand while he’s driving or when you’re just sitting at a red light or stuck in traffic

You’re either going to drive around for the sake of driving around, or he’ll take you to one of Bludhaven’s docks or some hillside, some place with a nice view

Sitting on the hood of his car and just talking while he holds your hand, wraps his arms around your waist, brushes your hair out of your face

Just little things that make you know he’s paying attention and makes you feel like he really loves you, which he does

Jason Todd

If you’re in a car, he would be blasting music and it would probably be both of you screaming out the lyrics to the song that’s on

I feel like there would be a time where one of you doesn’t know the lyrics and tries to discreetly look them up without the other person realizing it

The other person totally figures that out and you never let them live it down

Probably the handsier type, one hand on the wheel while he drives, other hand resting on your thigh

Acts like he doesn’t know the effect he has on you 

But he definitely does, considering how long you’ve been together

I also feel like he’d probably take you for trips on his bike instead of a car, though, so if you’re taking his bike: 

He likes having your arms wrapped around him while he drives, he likes feeling you relax and resting your head against his shoulder

He loves driving, so he might just take you down long mostly-empty roads and just fly through the night

Depending on his mood and yours you could be talking about anything from his dark traumatic past to discussing how great the new chilidog place is downtown

With Jason you can literally never tell

Will probably pull over at some point to chill on his bike, talk, or kiss

He’s bad at telling you he loves you so times like these are his way of letting you know that

Driving is his way to escape, and he loves having you there with him to feel like you and him are the only things that matter for a little while

Tim Drake

You’re probably the one dragging him out of the house or his office just to get him to stop working for an hour or so

He’ll definitely protest saying he has “so much work to do” and how he’s “so close to being done”, but you both know he secretly loves taking a break just to drive with you

It’s mostly just you guys talking about absolutely anything and everything, from his life at WE to philosophical debates about stupid shit

And I mean just random, stupid shit

“If you drop soap on the floor, is the floor clean or is the soap dirty?"

“If I try to fail, but succeed, which one did I do?"

“...Tim, is this a personal question? Because I feel like you’re talking about something you personally went through right now-”

He gets really into these kind of conversations

You’ll probably stop by a drive-through to grab something to eat while chilling in your car

He’ll let you steal his fries 

Unless he was talking about how his day was going and brings up the office, he won’t even mention work

He’s definitely way more interested in you and what you have to say, he loves hearing about your problems and trying to think of ways to help you get around them

These would be some of the few times he really gets to forget about everything else and focus on just you, and he loves it

Damian Wayne (aged up) 

Honey, he steals the Batmobile

Like actually, he’s done it before in the comics to impress chicks and you can bet he’d do it again

If he acts this way as a literal twelve year old imagine what he’s gonna do when he’s older

You’d have a fine time perusing around in it, clicking all the weird buttons it has just to “test out” the different functions

You may or may not have accidentally activated the flamethrowers Bruce had installed for unknown reasons

And that may or may not have ended up getting you guys caught after some poor GCPD officer on a late shift saw the Batmobile zooming down the street with a whole column of fire shooting out of it, but it ended up being okay because Damian acted like he didn’t know what his father was talking about when he was confronted with it

Otherwise, you’d probably end up on a late night drive after you and Damian decide to ditch a gala or some random fancy party

“It was far too stuffy to stay in that place, Father will understand our absence.”

“Damian, you were hosting the event.”

He lets you do most of the talking during the drive because he likes listening to you and the sound of your voice

He’ll still act all cool, but he’ll be smiling and letting out the occasional laugh at your stories here and there, adding on his own snarky comments or stories every once in a while

Instead of going home, he’ll probably want to take you somewhere to grab dinner or just to head to a nice part of Gotham to get a moment between yourselves and enjoy a pretty view

He feels like the type of guy who would really be into grand gestures and giving you the best of the best for literally everything

So your late night drives are little moments where he’s dialing all that back just to get some time alone with you, listen to you, and get to know you better 

And as much as he’ll deny it to everyone else, he’d love those moments the most

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @cipheress-to-k-pop 

[gravesightings]

May I request the slasher’s reaction to their s/o getting a bad haircut! (btw hope your day/night is going well).

of course! and things have been going well, thank you. 💖

slashers reactions to: their s/o getting a bad haircut

Asa Emory / The Collector

depending on whether or not you actually consulted him beforehand, this could go two ways.

if you didn't, he'd be upset. who gave you permission to have your hair cut? why didn't you ask him first? does he need to remind you of your place again?

Asa might leave you be for a couple of days depending on how drastic the change is. if it can be remedied easily, he'll have you beg for forgiveness but if not - don't be offended when he starts bringing you wigs. actually, he won't care either way. this is your fault.

if it's something you two have talked over then he's a lot more sympathetic about it. especially if you feel insecure over it. it's not so bad actually. if you're lucky you might catch him fiddling with your hair while you sleep.

overall he's indifferent to it. it's just hair? it's not the end of the world. just be thankful that he has no interest in experimenting with hair implants.

Billy Lenz

it might seem like he wouldn't notice but he's actually quite perceptive to these kinds of things. Billy is absolutely the type to notice any sort of physical change no matter how subtle it is.

unsurprisingly, this is because he spends almost all of his time watching you. of course he's bound to notice!

he'll definitely point it out but he'd either be neutral or mildly upset about it. if he dislikes it, you would know immediately because he would pull your hair and demand answers.

if it's not that big of a difference and he's craving a bit of your company Billy would want to brush your hair for you! isn't he sweet? unless of course it gets tangled, then you might actually end up looking worse. (unless you teach him how to do it properly.)

if he's feeling more gracious than usual he might even offer to remedy it! whether or not you decide to indulge him is entirely up to you. there's a slim chance he would actually be good at it but denying him isn't recommended either..

Bo Sinclair

there's no sugar-coating it. Bo will laugh at you. he might even point it out to his brothers if you look especially funny.

did you go to a blind hairdresser? head got stuck in a lawnmower? got attacked by a bunch of bloodthirsty birds? you're never going to hear the end of it. he's never going to let this go even after your hair grows out.

would constantly tease you about it but it's mostly out of love. he might even come up with cute nicknames for you depending on how badly you messed up your haircut.

if someone else tries to make fun of you though that's an entirely different story. only he can call you ugly duckling! if someone else does it then he's ready to crack someone's skull open.

denies he was doing anything to defend you. Bo would just claim that they were being too loud for his liking. it had nothing to do with you. nope. not at all. "it's 'cause your hair's so damn ugly that they died on the spot."

Brahms Heelshire

what have you done?! this is MUTINY! he's been BETRAYED! dramatically reaches out to feel your hair with his trembling fingers.

this is all so wrong... so very wrong. at first he would only be able to stare at you in utter disbelief. as if you've spat at his face and insulted his entire bloodline.

Brahms takes it as a personal attack against him. sure, he can be a handful at times but he'd never thought you'd be this cruel! it might take some thorough explaining that no, actually you hadn't intended to end up like this.

regardless he would be very upset. he's rather fond of your hair and if it was longer before and much shorter now, he might not be able to recover from it until it grows back. Brahms is a bit shallow, you see.

when your hair does eventually grow out expect him to treat you like a ticking time bomb. he can't possibly trust you with keeping it pristine now! it's decided. Brahms would just have to cut your hair for you. unlike Billy though, he has slightly more experience since he cuts his own hair so you might not have to worry too much.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba absolutely adores you either way! literally nothing can convince him otherwise. he might even get upset if you tell him it's ugly. no no no, you can't possibly be ugly! you're his s/o! you look wonderful no matter what!

as for the rest of the family... the twins love it too! they might even call you a trendsetter. they might come off as patronizing if you haven't been around that long to know them but they're actually genuinely into it. it's fun and quirky and nobody else has it! what do you mean you look bad?

Drayton is a lot less enthusiastic about it. he'll throw in an insult here and there but nothing too harsh unless it's getting in the way of your chores. if it bothers you so much he might actually shave all of your hair off. (don't worry! Bubba will protect you!)

if you're adamant about remedying your look then Bubba would offer to help. unfortunately he has little to no experience with cutting hair. he was the one offering his help but.. are you sure you want him to do this? he's more worried about accidentally snipping your ear off than he is ruining your look.

Bubba wouldn't really understand if you happen to be worked up about it. he truly, wholeheartedly thinks that you look gorgeous no matter what you do with your appearance. it's still you under there after all!

Jason Voorhees

he'd be surprised at first but will try to play it cool if you become self-conscious. points at something just above your head. he wasn't staring at your hair, he was looking at...uh. that bird up that tree! it flew away when you looked... too bad..

like Bubba, Jason loves you no matter how you look. big boy does not care at all. things will stay pretty much the same. he’s not the type to make a big deal about it just because you look a little different.

he would make sure to shower you with compliments if he catches you fussing over your appearance though. bring in the gifts! he picked up this cool hat for you, do you want it? how about these hair clips? he wants to help as much as he can.

Jason would not want to fix it for you but it’s not like he can deny you when you’re asking for his help. what if he messes it up? what if you get mad at him? what if he accidentally hurts you? it’s too risky. he doesn’t even know how to! hopefully his many concerns would be enough to convince you to just let it be.

if not, well.. his hands would be trembling the entire time. this poor man would be scared to death to snip even a single strand of your hair. why would you put him through this? not only would it take him hours before doing anything noticeable, he would be in a constant state of dread the entire time.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

WHEEZE. babe, what happened? who did you offend? he’s very desperately trying not to laugh at you but he’s failing. what a gentleman. Jesse would inspect the damage - totally not struggling to hide his laughter - before claiming that he hadn’t noticed anything until you pointed it out.

he’ll tease you about it, asking if you’ve been out making enemies behind his back. he won’t be as much of an asshole as Bo per se but he’s not about to pass up the opportunity to get a reaction from you.

Jesse is more of a romantic about it, holding you close and placing a palm on your chest. what matters to him is this, he signs. ...your tits. oh and your heart too, but that’s just a bonus. he’s kidding! stop hitting him! (claims to have planned this just to make you smile all along. sneaky bastard.)

if it’s something that bothers you, he’ll have a hairdresser come over for a home service. why are you surprised? were you expecting him to bring you to the salon? the barbers? why would he do something like that? he’s offended!

now you’ve done it - you’ve bruised his ego. the man’s just showing off at this point. within the short period of time the hairdresser took to fix your little problem, Jesse somehow managed to get more people involved. they’re wheeling all sorts of expensive-looking equipment in. one claims they’re a nail technician and the other a masseuse. oh you had plans today? too bad, you're getting pampered and that’s final.

Michael Myers

if it’s really bad then he might let out a small chuckle but that’s pretty much it. the most he’ll do is run his fingers through your hair. Michael doesn’t really care all that much for appearance either.

but he’s not as eager to console you like the rest of the slashers are. if it’s a bad haircut then it’s bad - he’s not the type to beat around the bush. “do you think I look stupid?” he’ll nod. if you react negatively to that he’ll just shrug. you asked! what do you want him to do, lie?

Michael would help you out if you asked but it’s ill-advised. he’s decent with a pair of scissors but he’s going to keep cutting shorter and shorter until you either stop him or you run out of hair. (there’s no guarantee he’ll stop even if you asked nicely.) clearly this is your fault. why would you trust him with a pair of scissors?

this should be obvious but do not let him anywhere near your hair with anything sharp. he might take matters in his own hands if he sees how fixated you are with your haircut. if it’s that bad, he’ll snip away while you sleep. Michael would be careful not to wake you.

overall you’re almost guaranteed to have an awful time if Michael decides he wants to do something about it. he’s not going to make fun of you but you’re going to wish he did instead of butchering your precious mane.

Thomas Hewitt

oh, honey... what happened? he’ll set you on his lap to give you a good look-over. Tommy is not all too concerned about how you look but how you feel about it so he’ll help in any way he can. if you’re upset about it he’ll press a quick kiss on the crown of your head to reassure you.

nothing a little trim can’t fix! as good as he is with his hands, he has almost no experience with hair so he would have to ask Luda Mae for help. he’ll be there too don’t you worry your pretty little head!

Luda Mae would coo at you affectionately, earning a disapproving “tsk, tsk.“ at the poor soul who had done this to you. they would be the talk of the town. if you somehow did this to yourself, then she’ll scold you out of love. why didn’t you ask her instead? after the whole ordeal is sorted out though she’ll beam with pride when you comment on how good it turned out.

Hoyt is most likely going to chide on how badly you messed it up if you were the one responsible but if it was someone else, you best believe he’d be out of the door in search for the s.o.b. what kind of hairdresser would do such a half-assed job?

if you’re not quite close to the family yet, Tommy would do it but he’s unfortunately not as good as Luda Mae. he won’t be as bad as Michael though so you can still save whatever dignity you have left.

Vincent Sinclair

unsurprisingly, he’s the mature one out of the bunch and like Tommy, he’s more concerned about how you feel instead of how you look. he would immediately try to fix it - you won’t even have to ask. Vincent won’t even give you time to actually feel bad about it, that’s how much he cares about you.

he usually doesn’t alter his victims’ appearances so he doesn’t have much experience but he’s not about to tell you that! his caring side would definitely override his lack of confidence. congrats! Vincent does a pretty good job. he would even give you a trim if you asked.

if you somehow ran into his brothers first then there’s no escaping it. Bo’s going to laugh at you. Lester wouldn’t really insult you but he’ll poke fun at you, saying that it would be much easier to find you now, much to Bo’s amusement. luckily for you, they’d made enough ruckus to draw out Vincent.

Vincent wouldn’t necessarily defend you from his brothers, just silently tug you somewhere else - prompting Bo to call him out for being a killjoy. unfortunately since he’s used to his brothers picking at him he’ll expect you to do the same. afterwards he won’t take long to fix your haircut.

this isn’t going to stop Bo from calling you names though. Lester wouldn’t do it but he’s not exactly opposed to what he assumes is just friendly banter. they’re unlikely to cross the line since they know how much you mean to Vincent so unless you’re especially sensitive, then it’s nothing too serious.

[joansiefics]

CRASH, BOOM, BAM!!

MOSTLY BUCKY BARNES X READER

SUMMARY: You and your parents got in a car accident, while on your way to a holiday resort. You had several injuries, but your parents weren't so lucky. Luckily Tony, Natasha and Bucky saw the accident happen and helped you.

WARNING: Death (of family members), Car Accident, Blood, Injuries (cuts, concussion...), Crying over death, Held back against will (actually helps the reader), Nightmares, Blaming self.

REQUESTS are OPEN

MARVEL MASTERLIST

Add Yourself To My Taglist

“

”

You let out a satisfied sigh as you snuggle deeper into your makeshift car bed. The air in the car was stilled and you focused on the acceleration of the car as your dad made a turn onto the quiet highway, the broadcaster keeping himself awake with his own silly jokes and the light stertor breathing of your mother sleeping in the pushed back passenger seat, all cozy and cuddled up in her heated blanket. You squinted your eyes open as the winter sun was shining morning rays through snow clouded skies onto your face and you welcomed the slightly warmer feeling on your skin.

You let out a groan as you reposition yourself to let your numb side sensitize. "How'd you sleep?" you hear your dad's gruff, hoarse voice move through the stilled air.

"It was good, but my left side is entirely numb" you answer with a chuckle.

You mother utters a few tired and dreamful mumbles as the tyres slide on the road soothing her back into a light slumber. "I was thinking we could stop at a chick-fil-a for some breakfast before we drive the last few hours, what do you say?" your face lit up at his suggestion

"That sounds amazing, I could do with some food" your stomach growls in agreement with your statement.

It didn't take long before you saw a part of the red logo in contrast against the white, sheet of clouds, excitement bubbling in the pit of your empty, growling stomach. A few more miles covered and your dad was pulling into the drive -thru. The lady at the last window stretched her arm out, handing your dad the paper bag filled with deliciousness. The heavenly smell of waffle fries, chicken nuggets and sandwiches reaching your nostrils and making your mouth water. The smell made your mother stir, before she tiredly opened her eyes, searching for the source of the appetizing smell. Your dad handed the paper bag over to you, for you to pick out your food and you gave the paper bag to your mother, after taking your chicken nuggets, waffle fries and bacon, egg and cheese sandwich.

Your dad ate his food while keeping his tired eyes trained on the road as he drove. Your mother sat up and nibbled on some of her waffle fries, while you quickly devoured your portions of food, but still savoring every taste on your taste buds. You finished the last bite of your sandwich, wiped your hands and corners of your mouth with a napkin and put the rubbish in the now foodless, full of trash, paper bag.

"Thank you dad" you thank before plopping back down on your back.

"You're welcome".

The car became silent once more and your eyelids grew heavier, the exhaustion of a term's hard work and determination finally taking over. You can hear the whispers of your parents trying to have a conversation without disturbing you, the sleet pattering on the window, the soft tunes form the radio and the gusts of wind as other cars dangerously speed past yours, lulling you to sleep. You could vaguely here the conversation between your parents.

"Do -- want me -- take over ---- bit, honey?" some of your mother's caring words reached your ears as she asked your father.

"No, -- fine"

"Honey, -- been driving -- eight hours and ---- awake even longer ----, maybe -- should let me take -- wheel ---- bit, while you ---- rest?" your mother's voice was filled with concern.

"I'll stop at -- next gas station, -- we -- switch, okay?" your dad gave into the offer, the thought of sleep to good to turn down.

"I love you guys" you mutter from the backseat, a smile tugging at your lips, satisfied with the perfect life and loving and caring parents.

"Love you too" your parents said in unison, enlisting a small giggle to tumble over your lips - maybe a giggle of happiness, maybe a giggle of satisfaction, or maybe a last giggle before a storm, before a teared world, before the ruining of a perfect life.

The next line of events was all a big blur to you. You remember you were happy, smiling and giggling before you fell asleep, but you woke up with your head spinning 'It feels more like my whole body is spinning' and sharp pains running through your legs 'Did I sleep my legs into feeling numb again?' and then came the realization - you were thrown from one side of the car to another and crashed through the window as the car tumbled down a hill. You were scared, confused and anguished. But then it hit you...your parents - where are they? are they okay?

"Mom?! Dad?!" you called, your voice faltering, shaking and small.

You tried again "Mom!! Dad!!" - nothing.

By now the adrenaline was surging and pumping through your blood, filling your veins, the pain slightly dissipating as the only thought was your parents. As you took in your surroundings you noticed the thick, cold snow you were laying in with your left cheek sunken deeply into it, the snowflakes falling on you and the location of the car crash, which was at the bottom of a steep hill, a few meters away from you.

With every last bit of energy you push yourself onto your feet and trudge towards the wreck, trying to lift your feet as high as possible to escape the deep snow. You want to run to see if your parents are okay, but even though the adrenaline is anaesthetizing any feeling of discomfort or pain, you feel out of control of your own body. 'I'm useless, my parents might need my help and here I am, taking my sweet time getting to them.'  

Arriving at the wreck, you fall to your knees, next to the crumbled car. The stinging of the wet and cold, icy snow going unnoticed as you try to spot your parents in the battered car. "Mom!!!!" You call out with a tremble in your voice and a lump forming in your throat. "Dad!!!!!" The stinging tears in the back of your eyes escaping a bit through your lacrimal duct, almost freezing to your numb, rosy cheeks.

Through your blurry vision you can make out your mother's figure hurled against the dashboard. The mere thought of your mother being injured, pumps regenerated adrenaline through your tired body and out of utter impulsiveness you push half of your body through the hole where a window used to be. The few remaining shards of glass stuck to the side, slices the material of your shirt. "Mom!!! You gotta wake up...please!!!" You try grasping her shoulders with your numbed hands, shaking her vividly.

The overcharge of blood rushing to your possibly concussed head and overflow adrenaline causes a buzzing in your ears, blocking out the slushing of the oncoming car's tyres in the snow. "Mom, please... open y-your eyes" You beg with quivers. The panic only seeps deeper into your already thumping heart when you don't feel a pulse on your mother's wrist. "No, no, no, no, this can't be happening" You mutter to yourself, moving your tremulous hand to the main artery in her neck, desperately searching for even the slightest pulse.

Temporarily giving up on your mother, you try wiggling yourself further through the hole to your father, but with no use when a strong pair of arms snake around your waist, pulling you out of the car. "No!!! I have to get to him!!! Please!!!" You cry out to the stranger, but you only get pulled further from your parents with you struggling against the stranger's grip. You kick and twist trying to free yourself while the sobs break through your chest. The adrenaline is now ineffective, making you feel exhausted - drained - and the pain stimulus finally reaches your brain, making you whimper a bit.

Over your heaving and the still, slight, present buzzing in your ears you can hear sirens nearing your location. You are now almost fully depending on the stranger to hold you on your shaking, glass shard invested, legs. You can hear someone talking to the stranger holding you "I ask-- Jarvis -- scan their vital- ---- --- dead." You try to piece the snippets of vaguely heard conversation together, which makes bile rise to your throat and you concentrate hard to swallow it back down. 'I could be wrong, I mean I only heard some of the conversation...yep, I'm DEFINITELY wrong' you try to convince yourself.

The tightening of the arms around your waist pull you out of your internal reassurance. All senses heightened you perceive the snow, in which your knees somehow came to sink in, feeling like a fire blistering any skin it comes in contact with, the talking of the few men, clad in blue uniforms, deafening you, as the wheels of the gurney whooshes through the snow as they take your parents to the ambulance - "my parents" - you say hushed, more to yourself than anyone else. The pair of sturdy arms turn you around and one hand comes up to the back of your head, gently nudging it forward into the stranger's chest, blocking all the view from your parents' figures covered by white sheets.

The steady heart beat, of the stranger, eliminates the chaos around you and in that moment it's just you and the kind stranger, in whose arms you feel safe. The calmness settles in you - the silence before the storm - the calmness before the reality. A few more minutes pass with the stranger holding you in their arms stroking your tangled, snowflake invaded hair when the shock enters, destroying all calmness. If you were standing your knees would have buckled, but you were already sitting with your knees in the snow leaning back on your ankles.

The sadness is to overwhelming, holding back all the tears and only making dry sobs leave your body. "They are gone" You say disbelievingly, shaking your head in slow horizontal directions. "I'm really sorry for your loss" this is the first time you hear the stranger's voice, but you like it - it produces a certain serenity, perfect for the situation. You pull away from the stranger and he removes his arms from your waist, and you almost instantly miss the feeling of comfort. "Thank you for uhhh..." you pause a bit, trying to collect yourself "thanks" you get the only word out that you can think of suitable, while pushing yourself to your feet. The man also pushes himself to his feet, brushing of the snow from his pants.

"Bucky" he introduces himself, sticking his hand out for you to shake. There is a small silence before you reach out, shaking his hand "Y/N" "We should probably get your wounds checked out, it looks kinda bad" Bucky says sincerely. You haven't even given thought to your injuries, you were solemnly focused on your parents - 'they're REALLY gone' - your mind begins spiraling again. Bucky rests his flesh hand on your shoulder, preventing you to give into your spiraling thoughts, and usher you towards a car. "My friends and I are going to take you to our infirmary where we live. You'll get better treatment there." Bucky keeps talking to you, trying to keep you from dazing.

In any other situation you would have had questions: 'where do you live? how can I trust you? who are your friends?'  But in this case it's different: I just lost my parents and nothing can be worse than that, what do I have to live for now?' The opening of a car door, breaks through your thoughts and you hesitate a moment before you silently climb into the backseat, Bucky following right behind you. The contrast of the freezing weather outside and the heated air in the car, sends a shiver of pleasure through your spine. "These are my friends, Natasha and Tony" Bucky introduces the two people sat in the front of the car, pointing to each of them when saying their names "this is Y/N" he tells them, pointing to you. You didn't even notice there were people in the car, until Bucky introduced you to each other.

'Say something' you mentally scold yourself for your awkwardness "hey, nice to meet you...thanks for, uhh, you know what" you say. "No problem sweetie, anytime" Natasha says with a soft smile, before turning around and focusing in front of her. The shock, adrenaline rush and fuzzy brain definitely took a toll on you causing your eyelids to feel heavy, fluttering closed, before you force them open again "Get some sleep doll" Bucky says, hugging you closer to his warm body. Without having to tell you twice, you let your eyelids close, only this time you keep them closed.

After a long drive, of which you have no recollection, the car pulls up to the tower. Bucky picks you up in his arms, careful not to push any glass shards deeper than they already are, and carries you to the infirmary, swiftly but steady. The entire time that the doctors treat your wounds, Bucky stays by your side and after an hour the doctors and nurses leave the room, satisfied with their work.

The annoying beeping of a heart monitor, the bright fluorescent light hurting your eyes even through closed eyelids, the tight skin around the penetrating IV and the bandages almost, not quite, but almost stopping all blood flow through your veins, wake you up from your sleep. The light hurts your eyes but you force them to stay open and scan your surroundings. "B-Bucky" you ask unsure with a hoarse throat "Your awake" he says cheerfully, grabbing a drink of water. He gently puts one hand at the back of your head, slowly pushing it up and putting the brim of the glass to your lips. You take a few small sips, letting it soothe your dry throat before you thank him for the water.

Bucky rests your head onto the pillows again and makes his way back to the chair he's been sitting on for about an hour. After a long silence in the room, but constant debating with yourself, in your head, you ask the question that has been floating in your mind. "What's going to happen now? I mean like...with me? Where do I go?" you rush through your questions almost forgetting to fill your lungs with oxygen. The heart monitor beeping rapidly and the lines spiking as your heart's rhythm increases "Hey, hey, hey, calm down...okay? Just breathe for me." Bucky waits for you to calm your breathing before he continues "For now, you're just going to heal. Once you're all healed, we can contact some of your relatives, maybe you can stay with them" Just the mentioning of staying with one of your immoral relatives cause goosebumps to form on your skin. "Our umm...my relatives? they don't really like us...me, they don't really like me" you say, confusion clear on your face as you try to correct your sentence. "Well then, you can stay here at the tower, with me..." Bucky suggests, quickly adding "that's only if you want to" not wanting to push you into anything. "Yeah, I...I'd like that" you say with a smile tugging at your lips.

"Why don't you get some more rest and we can talk again in the morning, finalize all the plans and so forth?" Bucky says when he sees your eyes drooping and your best efforts to hide your yawns. "Okay, thank you again Bucky, it really means a lot to me" You say already closing your eyes "Goodnight doll" He leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead "Goodnight Bucky" He walks back to his seat and plops himself down, getting comfy for the night.

' "I love you guys" "We love you too, Y/N" and then *CRASH*...glass shatters everywhere, penetrating any flesh in its way. I feel the tingling as the blood drips from the lacerations on my arms and legs. But then I remember, my parents, "Mom, Dad!!!!" I see their lifeless, covered in blood, bodies against the dashboard. Then I hear my mother mumble the last few words, coughing on her own blood, spewing it onto her clothes "You... could have...saved us...Y/N" and then she exhales her last breath. '

You scream yourself awake and jolt up on the gurney. Sweat is dripping down the side of your forehead, your breathing is hitched and the heart monitor is screaming at you, trying to pull you back to reality. The last string of your daze snaps as a strong pair of arms wrap around you for the second time that day. "It was just a nightmare" Bucky cooes softly into your ear, swaying you back and forth on the gurney. "It wasn't just a nightmare, it was real" you pant, the words of your imagination mother replaying in your head 'You could have saved us Y/N'

"I could have saved them Bucky" you whisper into his chest "You couldn't do anything Y/N" "I could have..." you pause trying to think what you could have done. You know it's your mind playing tricks on you, you know your mother would never say such a thing, but you still can't ignore it. "You could have what?" Bucky asks, trying to lure you into accepting that you couldn't do anything. "I could have...I don't know" you sigh giving in with no answers "You couldn't do anything, okay?" Bucky waits for you to voice your acceptance "O-okay" you answer. "Just try and sleep some more, I'll be right here when you wake up doll" Bucky settles in next to you on the narrow gurney hugging you tighter to his chest, breathing exaggerated breaths for you to follow.

Falling asleep again you didn't have any nightmares - maybe the last time that you wouldn't get nightmares, well at least for now. But Bucky would always be there, by your side, swaying you to calmness and holding you to his chest - the chest of the once stranger that held you tight on the day of THE awful incident.

[mortalfaerie]

Stimulants (S.R)

spencer reid x bau (adhd) reader

word count: 1441

synopsis: reader has inattentive adhd but hasn't brought it up with the team before. after a few on-site assignments that drag into the night, spencer notices the signs of adderall wearing off and asks reader about it.

TW FOR DRUG MENTION AND DISCUSSION

these away assignments could prove to be hellish. it couldn't be helped- the nature of your work meant that you didn't exactly work at normal 9-to-5, and sometimes your team was wracking their mind in a small police station conference room at 2 am on a tuesday, knowing fully well that a killer was still on the loose. generally, you could be relied upon to focused and engaged during cases, providing useful insight or simply making witty banter with your teammates- but inside, you hoped that the case would wrap up timely enough that you wouldn't be blankly staring down into you 4th post-sunset cup of coffee, not taking in a word around you.

however, that's what you were doing at the moment.

"Y/L/N?" you heard Hotch say pointedly.

“Huh?” you snapped out of your haze, embarrassed, and Hotch gave you a sympathetic nod. “I understand, we’re all feeling a little burned out, but we have to focus. The unsub is out there.”

You gave a nod to the table and pursed your lips, then taking a long gulp of coffee.

work, work, work! you chided yourself.

you took your usual dose of adderall around 7 in the morning each day, and you could trust that you’d have a safe 11-12 hours of focus and level-headedness. However, its half-life ran out roughly 7 hours ago, and you were painfully aware of it. you had gotten the short end of the stick mentally, having gotten inattentive adhd as supposed to hyperactive adhd, which most people were familiar with. so, instead of having boundless energy that would have been useful right now, you couldn't stay engaged in the case for longer than 10 minutes at a time, and now your teammates were noticing.

you volunteered to go fetch some back records from the local legal archive next door, needing to clear your head- but with an unsub preying on women alone at night, Spencer was quick to volunteer himself to go with you. you walked mostly in silence to the elevator, but he spoke when the doors closed in front of you.

“Caffeine’s a stimulant.” he stated plainly.

“Uh. Yeah, it is.” you responded, not knowing where he was going with this.

“You know that you probably shouldn't be mixing stimulants.” he added, meeting your gaze in the reflective elevator doors.

you gaped at him for a moment, before loosing a dry laugh. “Are you diagnosing me with addiction, Dr. Reid?”

“Well, no, not precisely. You're evidently dependent on stimulants- I’ll wager that you take them around 7 or 8 each morning before work?”

you just gave a measured nod in response, not in the mood to deny it.

“Ritalin?” he asked, this time meeting your gaze directly.

“Adderall. Prescription, just so we're clear.”

“I figured as much- a normal person on adderall wouldn't have the same decline in ability after the half-life.”

you sighed. “Is it that obvious?” you ask. in the two months since you joined the bau, you had hoped you'd be able to stay on top of late night cases, or that they would be few and far between. as you were learning, the homicidal maniacs of the world didn't obey normal work hours.

he offered you a sympathetic smile. “I don't think anybody else thinks it's anything more than fatigue. I'm just a little more aware of it.” after a pause in which you studied the floor of the elevator, he added “You might consider getting a “bump” pill.”

you looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I do drugs?” you asked, only half sarcastic.

he flushed and backtracked. “Oh, no! I-” and you laughed openly, a good laugh, as the elevator doors opened. You proceeded through the lobby and put into the street with a flustered Dr. Spencer Reid on your heels. catching up to you, he explained, “A “bump” pill is a small amount of a stimulant that diffuses faster than your normal extended release medication, so you get a measured amount of focus for an hour or two after your primary stimulant wears off.”

you nodded, and pulled out your phone to put it on your calendar for your next doctor’s appointment. “Well, thank you, Reid.” you said, tucking your phone back in your pocket. “That would actually be pretty useful.”

clearly satisfied with himself, he gave a quick nod as you continued on to the legal archive. about two minutes had passed in silence before he abruptly said, “Call me Spencer.”

“Hm?” you responded, again forcing your brain to focus.

“Call me Spencer. You keep calling me Dr. Reid or Reid, but you don't have to.” on a more measured breath he added, “My friends call me Spencer.”

at this, you smiled. you had been fond of him since your first day, but were rarely alone to get to know him personally. you could tell the most obvious aspects of his personality and interests that he shared with the team, but all the while, he had apparently deduced that you had adhd and took medication for it by your behavior after hours alone.

“Alright then, Spencer. Then you call me Y/N.” you agreed.

“Y/N.” he said, as though trying out the sound of it.

As you thumbed through files in the archive looking for a specific box of court records, you and Spencer talked more, as he hinted that he knew what it was to be neurodivergent. you had wondered, of course- you were keenly aware of your ability to fixate on things and favor specific sensations over others- you couldn't stand the texture of chalk, and all your blouses were cotton since polyester felt like nails on a chalkboard for you to touch. you had noticed Spencer had similar reservations about things, but they were easily dismissible as him being eccentric.

walking back to the police station, each holding a box of files, he addressed your speculations. “If you wanted to talk about this again, I’d be glad to. I know what it is to have a mind that doesn't run like others do.”

you snorted, and gave you a confused glance. “No, I believe you, Spencer,” you explained. “But it seems to mostly work in your favor.”

he scoffed. “Not always. I have an eidetic memory, but I'd love to be able to read social cues. I'm well aware I can't do that, trust me.”

you smiled. “Well then, I'll trade you social graces for memory. I'd love to actually have a sense of object permanence.”

re-entering the elevator, he laughed. “Then it's a deal, we’ll swap.”

“Fantastic! I've always wanted to know what it's like to be a genius.” you exclaimed on a laugh.

“You don't think you are one?” he asked, more pointedly than you expected.

“I- no? Why would I?” you asked, a little shocked.

“Why wouldn't you?”

“Because I'm impulsive? I can be oblivious to the things right in front of me? Oh, and I have an executive function disorder? That doesn't really sound like Einstein to me.” you listed off, as though it were obvious.

“Impulsive, sure, but you're knowledgeable beyond what anyone would expect. You should see the expressions of the others when you told them the history of the ferris wheel on the last case- you even beat me to it. You see patterns that others don't, and you understand emotions on a level that the others can't imagine, because they've never been in your shoes as a kid with a learning disability.” he countered as the elevator ticked up and up the floors.

“You flatter me.” you said flatly, clearly skeptical.

“No, I'm being honest. You're incredibly intelligent. But if you only ever measure yourself by your perceived shortcomings, you'll never see that for yourself.” he said, matter-of-factly.

As the elevator doors opened again, the two of you were surprised to see the team suiting up in kevlars with Hotch on the phone with the local sheriff.

“Finally!” Prentiss exclaimed. “We’ve got a hit on the unsub, Morgan and I are heading over now- Hotch and local law enforcement are meeting us on-scene. Go put the boxes in the conference room and get back here.”

“Uh- of course!” you said, and you and Spencer exchanged a bewildered look as you rushed to go put the files away.

The clock back in the conference room told you it was closing in on 3 am. You huffed an exasperated sigh. “Does evil ever consider a good night’s rest might be pretty fulfilling?” you asked rhetorically.

“No.” Spencer said, setting down his box. “No, it never seems to do.”

[thepixelelf]

[sooo, what did I miss?] The first thing you notice when you come to is the acrid fumes in the air. They tickle your nose and rouse a cough from the deepness of your chest, which travels up your throat and comes out as a choke. Your head feels like it's filled with seawater -- like it's been drowning for hours, but you can't let the pain and grogginess hinder you from moving. You have to get out of your car if it's smelling this much like gasoline, and fast.

Your entire body feels stiff. At first, you try to flex your fingers, get the blood pumping enough to make use of them at all. Opening your eyes proves to not be much help. The fumes sting against your eyeballs, and you can't see past the engaged airbag anyhow. Instead, you keep your eyes screwed shut and grunt as you lift both arms to push the deflating airbag out of your way. On muscle memory alone, you fumble for the key in the ignition. Your fingers, for a few seconds, are too weak to twist the key, but after a few determined yanks, you successfully turn off your car. With one possibility of an explosion knocked off the list, you heave yourself off the car seat and shove your body into the driver's side door, thankful when you can open it just fine.

Whatever you'd hit after veering off the road, at least it didn't--

Fuck, why did you veer off the road?

As you fall out of your car, hacking up a storm, having inhaled too much smoke, you try to gather your memories together, but find nothing. There's this lingering feeling... You know something made you jerk both hands on the wheel and swerve off the freeway.

You just don't know what.

Deciding that the memory will probably come back to you later, you stumble a good number of steps away from your car and collapse once again to catch your breath. The cool night air does your lungs well, easing the fire that's still burning in your chest little by little. A metallic taste coats the inside of your mouth. You'd bit your tongue during the crash.

The roads around you are empty, but what did you expect at sometime-past-three in the goddamn morning? You'd been... yes, you were on your way to the other side of the city, choosing the freeway over the hustle and bustle of traffic in the city streets. Sungyoon had called you.

Well, no. One of Sungyoon's friends had called you using his phone. They asked you to come pick him up from the club they were at because he was apparently "blasted". Though, he was lucid enough to have his friends call you rather than his older sister, whom you suspected would chew him out for drinking during his university's exam season.

Even though you're closer to Seonhui, you tend to err on the side of the "cool uncle" type to Sungyoon, despite being only four years older than him. You know, the type of person you can call to pick you up from the bar without getting upset at you for being there in the first place. Someone who has no stake in any of your life decisions, so they get the privilege of not having to judge you for any of them.

He'd said something about Seonhui -- you had heard his voice yelling in the background of the call. Something about how she didn't have to know and about something important he had to tell you when you showed up.

You groan thinking about him. Poor guy; now his sister actually does have to know because her friend is an idiot who drives off freeways for no discernible reason. Feeling around your pockets, you sigh in relief when you find your phone. There's no way you'd want to search your now hellmouth of a car for it.

You know the logical thing to do first is call emergency services, but you could be on the phone with them for who knows how long. Might as well tell the person who's depending on you that you can't make it. Dialling the most recent number isn't difficult, really, although you're starting to feel the chill in the air. You shiver as you bring your phone up to your ear.

"You've reached the voicemail of--"

His voice interrupts the automated one. "Choi Sungyoon."

"--please leave a message after the tone."

You frown at the beep that rings in your ear. Sungyoon should be looking at his phone if he's waiting for you to pick him up, or at least have the ringer on. You wait only a few seconds after hanging up to call him again.

This time, the low trill rings twice before he picks up.

"...Hello?"

You're a bit out of it at this point, having just crashed your car and all, but you think he sounds... slow, like he just woke up, but also hesitant. Since you can't think of a reason he'd sound like that, though, you just ignore it.

"Hey, listen," you say, voice raspy from all those noxious fumes. "I can't pick you up anymore. Sorry"

He doesn't respond for a moment.

A long moment.

"...What?"

He must be pretty drunk.

"I got into a little accident. Princess--" That's what you, Seonhui, and Sungyoon affectionately call your shitty 2007 Honda Civic. You look over at your still-smoldering car and grimace. "--she's done for."

More silence. It's strange... there's no sound in the background, either. Did he move outside?

"Anyway, you're gonna either have to bite the bullet and call Seonhui or maybe try an Uber--"

"Is this some sort of sick joke?"

Your words come to a halt at his sudden, bitter tone, and you let out an incredulous huff of a laugh. "Look, man, I crashed Princess on the side of the road, so I'm sorry" --your tongue curls sarcastically around the apology-- "that I can't pick you up from your drunken bender."

"How do you know about Princess?"

"What the hell are you on about, Sungyoon? How do I know about my car?" An exasperated breath escapes you, and you choke on it for a second. After the short coughing fit has cleared, you bring your phone back to your ear. "You're drunker than I thought. Don't you have an exam soon or something?"

"Exam-- who is this?"

That makes you pause.

"Sungyoon," you say, simply. "It's me."

Another moment of quiet passes, and you wonder to yourself if you've suffered a concussion.

Then he asks, "What's my favourite food?"

"What does that have to do--"

"Answer the question."

Sighing, you wrap your free arm around your middle in a futile attempt to stay warm. "You tell everyone it's sashimi, but I know for a fact that you keep a stash of white chocolate in your room."

You hear him exhale. "Fuck."

"I don't underst--"

"Where are you?" he asks, a frantic tone to his voice now.

"Umm..." You glance around. "Highway 216... close to exit thirty-four."

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you."

You shake your head, struggling to keep up. "What? If you're calling me an Uber, don't bother. I have to call EMS to file the--"

"Don't," Sungyoon insists, and you have no idea why, but you feel inclined to listen. "Listen to me. Do not call anyone. Wait until I get there."

"There's a fine if you don't report an accident in twenty-four hours."

"Trust me." The sound of a car door slamming shut on his end of the line only gives you more questions. "You don't need to bother."

=

It takes only fifteen minutes for Sungyoon to find you, and by then you're shivering from head to toe.

A car you've never seen before pulls over and parks hastily near where you're standing (the cold ground got a little too cold). Its four-way flashers turn on before a familiar-ish figure exits and starts making his way towards you, silhouetted by the car's headlights.

"Since when can you drive?" you call out first, since it's definitely a surprise to you seeing your friend's little brother behind the wheel. You could've sworn Seonhui was whining about his lack of license a week ago. "And-- wait, should you be driving? You were just drinking--" He steps even closer, and you see the wisps of his hair lit by the headlights behind him. "Is your hair red? When did that--"

You don't get the chance to finish your question. Sungyoon pulls you tightly into him, his hand on the back of your head pressing your face into his coat so all you can really say is "oomph."

Sungyoon's never really hugged you before. At least, not like this. His fingers dig into the fabric of your clothes, like he's clutching desperately to something that will slip from his grasp if he loosens his hold even the slightest.

It faintly registers to you that he doesn't smell like alcohol at all.

You try to speak, muffled as you are against his coat. "Sungyoon, what--"

"I dyed my hair last week," he says, breathless. The words are panted over your ear, and it's then you fully realize how closely he's wrapped himself around you. You go to say something about how you saw his black hair just the other day, but he continues. "I'm four years sober next month."

The numbers are not crunching. "That doesn't--"

"And my license," he says, finally pulling back just enough so that you can see his face. "I got that in 2018."

You frown. "It's 2016."

Sungyoon breathes out your name, but all you hear is warning bells. You can tell by the pitying look on his face -- as much as it's mixed with relief. You're not going to like what he says next.

"It's 2023," he tells you, saying your name again like it's precious. He holds you tighter. "You've been missing for seven years."

[kyanmapng]

han seojun sleepover headcanons.

listen to what to do (feat mark) by henry. 

˗ˋˏ author’s note ˎˊ˗

come and get your seojun love and appreciation. this one is for @seojunly who asked for sleepover hcs! 🤗 imagine sleepovers with the one and only han seojun who happens to be your childhood bestie. i focused more on 20s ver seojun but there are also flashbacks to childhood and high school days. it ended up being a hybrid of both scenario and headcanon. enjoy!

sleepovers are actually almost a weekly occurrence. most of the times it’s not really planned. you hang out with each other and suddenly it’s too late to leave and you are forced to crash. (also seojun just flat out refuses to let you leave after a certain hour, he would try to make you stay or he will walk you all the way to your apartment, there is no in-between)

even if it’s something that happens this often, don’t think for one minute that seojun is not losing his mind over it. you are best friends, right? it’s normal right? but when you fall asleep on him while watching netflix? when you cuddle closer and hug him? his soul leaves his body and he never had to urge himself to keep his self-control more. 

when you were younger you used to have sleepovers all the time as well, but when it was at his house his little sister was in the picture and it was more like a hangout than anything. and gowoon liked you as her sister and wanted to spend time with you so he was often third-wheeling and sulking in the corner. 

it doesn’t help that you are so unaware of his struggles. you unknowingly make his brain turn off every time you lean over him for something or put your hand on his thigh to support yourself. whenever your hands meet in the bowl with popcorn you turn to him and smile, sometimes he annoys you and holds your hand but you think nothing of it because he loves to tease you - but he is spazzing out about holding your hand. 

if you order pizza he always leaves the bigger pieces to you and even has less and gives you the last one, because he loves seeing you enjoy your food. 

he can actually make a lot of dishes and flexes that anytime you come over because you are only ever confident in instant ramen as to not set fire to your kitchen (you are just more of a baker, which he doesn’t mind because he has a sweet tooth and when it’s made by you? his heart is sold.) 

it depends on how tired you are, but sometimes you keep dishes overnight and sometimes you do them together and it does feel homely. working in sync and moving around each other with a practised sense of familiarity. you jam out together to your favorite songs but more often than not you stop singing and listen to him with a smile. when he notices he is a little bashful and pokes your forehead telling you to “not slack off”. 

when you were little, you used to be afraid of the dark and even had this small light, but even then you sometimes couldn’t fall asleep and seojun noticed that and would tuck you in really tight. (“no monsters can get you now, i will fight them off for you.”) you giggled and held out your hand to him shyly. he got so used to holding your hand while you dozed off that it was weird when he slept on his own. 

he likes to tease you about it now that you are older. asking if you need his hand to sleep comfortably, resulting in getting whacked by a pillow. 

maybe you have a toothbrush at seojun’s because you do this so often and it makes him smile every time he sees it. he makes faces at you through the mirror when you brush your teeth and hopes it will make you laugh and often you almost choke because when it doesn’t work he is not above tickling you. (he is a bully sometimes.) 

when you were in high school he would always make you sleep in his bed and take the couch instead. but now when he’s all grown up with bigger bed it’s always quite a fight. with you telling him it’s okay, you can fit. and him being like? i’m a guy, how can you be so calm with sharing a bed? 

and it’s like a lightbulb is lit and you realise. it’s not like you don’t see his visual, because how could you not? it’s more like … you try to overlook it to stop having thoughts that are not in childhood friend spectrum. things about how squishy he looks when he wakes up with his bedhead and puffy cheeks. how his voice gets deeper when he greets you in the morning. how he definitely put on some muscle when you end up leaning on him and maybe you walked in on him once or twice when he was changing his t-shirt. you try not to think about him borrowing you his clothes to sleep in, because you shouldn’t be thinking that! he is your best friend! 

it ends up with him on the couch again, regretting having morals and staying away. but maybe one day you drink a little too much because your friend was celebrating getting promoted and she makes you drink to loosen up. it goes on for longer than it should’ve and seojun being the worrywart he is ends up calling you to check up on you. when you answer all giddy and giggly he knows right away you are in no condition to walk home. he wheedles the location out of your drunk self and tells you to stay put. 

he shows up out of breath because he ran most of the time, too nervous you might try to meet him halfway and end up getting lost on the way. after he literally picks you up (walking is not an option with your level of intoxication) and piggybacks you home he is ready to tuck you in and be on his way, but… you end up holding him back. “can you hold my hand? i’m scared.” 

seojun’s heart does a flip and he gulps so loud it echoes through the apartment. “are you scared of the dark again?” he wants to tease but holds out his hand anyway and you grab it happily and you shake your head no to his question. confused he asks what is that you’re scared of then. and the answer shakes him up to his core. 

“i’m scared you might end up hating me.” you take a deep breath, looking away. “for liking you more than a friend.” after that you end up knocking out and he is just sitting there with his free hand on his face as if it could stop the blush. he let’s out a sigh, whispering “you are so unfair.” while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and lying down next to you. 

you wake up with a massive hangover, but that almost doesn’t register because you are tucked into someone’s arms and you can’t remember anything. you panic for a split second before you recognize seojun’s face few centimetres away from your own. his eyes flutter open as if he sensed you waking up. and you expect him to pull away and apologize (this did happen sometimes when you both actually fell asleep in the same bed or on the couch and usually he jumped out of the bed faster than you could say his name). this time he doesn’t move, only gives you this unnerving stare that a man who just woke up shouldn’t be able to muster. 

“do you remember anything?” you try to ignore the close contact and keep your cool, racking your brain for answers. you remember your friend pouring you drinks and remember laughing when your favorite song came on before you realized it’s your ringtone. you remember seojun’s voice and how he smelled like he came straight out of the shower, you remember almost falling off his back when you thought you saw a stray cat and tried to jump off. you remember your head hitting the pillow and… oh god, your face goes red. 

“did...did i really make you hold my hand?” seojun nods. “and… is there any hope you didn’t actually hear me say that .. thing?” seojun chuckles, enjoying his upper hand. 

“i could never hate you, you dumbass. i’m in the same boat.” that takes a while to register in your hangover state. but seojun doesn’t give you the time. he kisses your forehead and holds you closer. 

“now we don’t have to fight over sleeping in one bed anymore. i’ve always slept the best with you next to me anyway.”    

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Final chapter, let's GOOO.

This has been a really nice thing to write, so I wanted to say thank you. There has been a lot of support and nice comments to this fic and I can't be appreciative enough about it.

I'd like to specially thank @extraintrovertedalien , @winterwynd and @simplestoryteller for all of their lovely comments!! You guys gave me so much motivation to keep writing this!

Word count: 1402 | AO3 | <<Previous

Chapter Masterlist

Summary: The moment we've all been waiting for, Virgil more than anybody, Roman admits he isn't perfect. Well, no, it's actually them kissing. I will not apologize for all of the flirting that happens in this chapter.

CW: Insecurities, very mild angst.

Getting together, but make it messy and silly

Roman laughed awkwardly.

“What do you mean you already know?”

After a pause where the other just blinked and stared at him, Virgil pulled out a chair and sat straddling it. He leant his elbow on the backrest, committing to a facepalm of sorts and a sigh.

“Princey, I’ve known for ages now. I mean, you’ve been super obvious for, what? A year maybe?”

“But--”

“It’s fine” he cut him. “I get it, so you don’t need to explain yourself. At least I’m glad you told me, even if it’s now”.

Roman frowned and stared at the floor.

“Oh”.

The chair creaked as Virgil leant his chest further against the backrest, following some kind of sunflower logic that required him to get closer to Roman in the least efficient way possible.

“Hey, why are you sulking like that? Isn’t this, like, better for you?”

“Well, that depends, if you’re rejecting me right now, then, no. I’ve only known that I’m in love with you for a few weeks, but, if what you say is true, I guess I’ve been feeling this way for even longer”, Roman paused, rethinking his words. He quickly glanced up at Virgil, gesturing with his open palms. “I mean, I will honour your choice, I don’t want to make you feel like I’m pressuring you into anything”.

Now it was Virgil’s turn to frown.

“But… aren’t you... I thought you just felt ashamed of me…”

Roman observed Virgil’s tense body language, getting the sense the other was feeling quite self-conscious, if anything because he recognised it from seeing it quite often in the mirror.

“What? Why would I ever--”

“Oh, well I don’t know Princey!” he exclaimed, sounding more upset than he intended. “We didn’t exactly start with the right foot, and then you were so unwilling to be nice to me, but then we became friends, and you’ve been getting closer and closer. You look at me with that stupid Hans from Frozen expression all of the goddamned time, but you never make a move, despite being all about romancing people. So, what else could I think? If you weren’t going for it, there had to be a reason”.

“And you thought I was ashamed of you of all things?”

“Well, yeah”.

“But I still hanged out with you anyway”.

“Princey, in my defence I have to say you’re pretty stupid, so it makes sense for you to do something like that instead of just ghosting me”.

Roman smirked.

“I can’t exactly ghost you if you’re haunting me”.

The pair of chapped lips pursed into a line. Virgil’s eyes looked at the top of the armrest with a worrying amount of interest for a plain piece of plastic.

“Virge, are you blushing?”

“Wouldn’t you like that, weather boy”.

“Well… yes I would like that very much, because if you are”, Roman walked up to him and held one of his hands in his, “maybe you like me too” he finished, hopeful.

“Jesus Christ, Roman, how are your hands so soft?” Virgil murmured.

Roman leant even closer to Virgil, bending almost to his eye level. He could feel his breath tickling against his neck. His body quivered at the sensation. When the warm air began to come in faltering intervals, Roman felt worried.

Was Virgil crying?

His hand moved towards the other’s face on autopilot. Before he could cup his cheek, though, Virgil looked up at him.

The smile he received had something so attractive to it, an air in between smugness and tenderness.

“Are your lips just as soft?” Virgil whispered and got closer.

Roman felt like he was made of jelly. His silly feelings had decided to leave Virgil in charge of all of his body strength, not that the Prince complained. How could he under that gaze?

Virgil finally surged forward.

Roman’s heart skipped a beat.

And… he yelped as Virgil bit on his collarbone like a wild animal.

“Ow!” he jumped backwards.

Virgil stood up from his chair holding onto his sides. His torso bent forward erratically, heaving.

When Roman finally saw his expression, his heart felt even weaker.

He bit his lower lip hard, the corners of his mouth were stretched forming a tiny dimple on the right cheek. His eyes arched and crinkled, giddy. Underneath, his eyebags shimmered with a bright shade of purple.

At that very moment, Roman couldn’t help but think Virgil was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he was on that list.

“You are unbelievable” Roman complained not sounding bothered at all.

“And you are ridiculous”.

“You make me ridiculous”, he said without thinking.

Virgil’s laughter slowly died down, settling into something soft.

“I do?” he asked.

Okay. Roman could do this.

Ignoring how shaky he felt, he once again approached him. A smile took over his entire expression all on its own. Roman nodded.

“You’re making the Hans face again, just so you know”, Virgil said while biting some dry skin on the left side of his lower lip.

The prince’s eyes went straight to Virgil’s mouth. If this went on his brain would melt before he’d managed to say anything.

“I am not ashamed of you, Virgil, I--”

“I’m sorry… I just thought that, since you weren’t addressing it, you might not like feeling like that about me. I’m…” he gripped the back of his neck, recoiling from Roman’s gaze. “We’re just so different. It kind of made sense, thinking you wouldn’t want to be with someone who dresses like me and is just so…”

“Come on, Taylor Swift, you’ve always belonged, well… once we were friends. I was just very stubborn, but you were too”.

“Princey, are you admitting you’re not perfect?”

“Hey! I’m trying to make you feel better and you’re attacking me!”

“Well, since you’re putting me at your level… just how badly do you think of me?” Virgil teased.

“I am actually wonderful, so, unlike you, I’m not trying to get sassy, because if I’m perfect then so are you!” the words came out of his mouth with no forethought.

“Oh”.

“I mean…”

“Are you blushing, Princey?”

“What if I am? Red is my colour after all”.

Virgil grinned.

“Not gonna argue with that”.

“You must be in a good mood… is it because of me?”

“I…” Virgil paused. He took one steady breath and rushed to get a hold of Roman’s hands. “Are you sure you want this? We… I am not riding off into the sunset material, and I know you care about that, and… I care about you too… what I mean to say is I like you, but I don’t want it to cost you the fairytale you’ve always wished for”.

Roman took a deep breath. This was going to be something.

“But Virge, I can’t have that without you. Anything we do together already feels like that”.

Virgil blinked a few times, trying to stop himself from tearing up completely.

“Pff… you’re such a sap”.

“You like it”, Roman said, raising his tone a bit at the end to make it ambiguous whether it was a question or not.

“Yeah… don’t let anyone else know, thought”.

A rush of adrenaline took over him. Roman swept Virgil into his arms and pulled him into a dip, leaning about an inch away from his face.

They stared at each other awkwardly, almost going cross-eyed from the proximity. Despite that, it felt kind of magical.

“May I kiss you?” Roman asked.

“You better” Virgil smiled, his eyes still watery.

Both ended up laughing at that. Roman shook nervously whilst cackling. Suddenly, his grip went loose and Virgil fell ass first on the floor, ending splayed face-up. His mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape.

“You dropped me!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry--” Roman began to apologize.

Virgil got onto his belly in the blink of an eye and crawled. He grabbed Roman’s leg and pulled hard. Roman’s pretty face met the floor in less than a second.

“You childish prick!” Roman said as he got on top of Virgil.

“Takes one to know one” Virgil replied, pushing him to the side.

They rolled around the floor of the room like idiots until they hit Virgil’s chair. Roman felt the wheels sticking into his ribs, as he laid below Virgil, who smirked victoriously.

Finally, Virgil grabbed his hair forcefully and met him halfway in a less than perfect kiss.

<<Previous

Taglist: @itsjust-la-me , @bard-in-blue , @simplestoryteller , @winterwynd , @some-fander , @extraintrovertedalien , @the-sad-strawberry

[raincityruckus]

hold tight, nothing is complicated

triple frontier - the boys/ofc

arguably fem!reader but with 3rd person pronouns not "you" unnamed, nearly featureless original female placeholder

rated e despite having no penetrative sex content warning for being millercest adjacent the millers don't actually have direct sexual contact, you're welcome/apologies depending on your point of view. if millercest really squicks you it may still be to much for you tags: everyone/everyone, but most explicitly - will/ofc, pope/benny/ofc, exhibitionism/voyeurism, shockingly little actual sexual contact, just a little finger banging, someone has blood on their face, a little pining a little jealousy, mostly just why have a love triangle when you could have a threesome fivesome

In the wake of another mission Will just really doesn't want to think about being shot again. Or about another night time drive through a jungle a world away from home. Or all the ways he could have been better, all the little things he's counting. So he distracts himself by saying the first unhinged thing that comes to him.

And it goes a lot better than expected.

read on ao3

or

“What if you suck my brother’s cock.”

The nagging pull of annoyance at not being the center of her attention vanishes when her gaze snaps up to his where he’s half turned in the passenger seat. The hot flash of annoyance makes them spark, her brows drawing together. Her mouth opens, closes. Opens again as she tries to figure out what to say to that. She’s squished between Benny and Pope in the back seat of a Jeep that is strictly too small to fit all of them. And she always gets the middle seat. Because she didn’t serve with them until after and they call it paying dues. Which always makes her mutter about a boys club.

“Jesus,” Frankie hisses behind the wheel, another rut on another piece of shit back road they’re flying down making everyone jostle.

“I’m bleeding out, it’s the least you can do,” Will offers with a one armed shrug. Because there’s a bullet hole in the other one.

This beats the hell out of counting bodies. Thinking about the ways they could have been cleaner, faster, better. The ways he could have been better. Her eyes glitter with irritation and her lips pull back in what might be a snarl. Beside her Benny looks distinctly uneasy and that just makes it better.

Yeah, this beats the muzzle flashes he sees behind his eyelids when he blinks

“You’re not bleeding out,” Pope says placatingly at the same time Benny says “Holy shit.”

“He got shot,” Frankie says, shrugs when everyone in the back seat looks at him incredulously, “I kinda want to see where the crazy goes.”

“Even if that made any kind of fucking sense,” she says, breaking through the voices of the men around her trying to argue about exactly what kind of crazy Will has, “which it does not. You get shot like weirdly a lot.”

Will shrugs again, uses his good elbow to push against the seat and turn to face the back better. There’s blood on Benny’s neck, a smudge from her thumb where she cupped the back of his neck, bumped their heads together and whispered something Will couldn’t hear. Which is supposed to be fine, after all it’s his blood on Benny’s skin, him that she half dragged, half carried behind cover.

Her gaze searches his face, looking for some sign that this is a joke, that he’s just giving her a hard time. He was, at first. When he was just annoyed that he was in pain, that he’d been shot again, that she wasn’t paying attention to him. But then he’d said it and he doesn’t often say things he doesn’t mean. A little blood loss isn’t enough to push him over that line and as soon as it’s out he means it.

Her throat bobs as she swallows, realization colouring her cheeks a hot flush of pink. She knows he’s not kidding and so far they’re the only two who are totally sure of his sincerity.

“Did you hit your fucking head?” she asks and it manages to be both scathingly dismissive and genuinely worried about him being maybe concussed. She fits with them better than she thinks she does. And Will knows she worries. Because he sees her, more than he probably should.

“C’mon, darlin,” Will’s voice pitches low, like it’s only them. Like the men who are his family aren’t packed in shoulder to shoulder with them. She kicks the back of his seat, Pope’s legs in her way so she can’t get much force, “Show me what a good girl you can be.”

“Hello?” she spreads her arms to encompass the jeep, the jungle, the blood and sweat and cordite stinking up the enclosed space, “I think we blew past good girl a country mile ago, William. What with being Garcia’s little vendetta hit squad and all.”

Beside her Pope opens his mouth to argue. Probably to point out that they pick jobs as a team. Sure most of them are his to begin with but they never go anywhere they don’t agree on. All of them go or none of them go, that’s how this works. How they keep walking out of whatever shit hole they find themselves in. He shuts it before he says anything, turning to scowl out the window.

“You’re right,” Will says, “blowing my brother in the backseat is definitely more bad girl.”

“Punch him in the bullet hole,” Benny suggests and Pope wraps his arms around her shoulders to haul her back when she goes to do just that, her teeth flashing in a snarl.

“What?” Will asks, “He wants you to.”

Benny splutters out a denial, some half true waste of air designed to keep him out of the line of fire. But Benny wants her, Fish and Pope want her. You can’t keep killing people together, keep living on adrenaline and bloodshed without getting all your wires crossed and all your wanting confused. It’s obvious every time Benny spars with her, when he helps her grapple, learn to use her lower center of gravity to deal with bigger, stronger opponents. He walks out of that cage and the smile falls off his face leaving heat and wanting in its wake.

“This is fucking weird. Drop it,” Pope says. His face is solemn, sober, “She doesn’t want to.”

Will knows he’s smirking when he slips his gaze one place over to meet hers. Her pupils are blown wide, dwarfing her iris to a thin ring of colour. His gaze drags down the column of her throat to the heavy rise and fall of her chest, her breasts pressing up against the black sports bra he can see where her henley is unbuttoned.

No, his Henley. It’s a smear of Frankie’s blood that turns the collar from a mission months ago in much better weather. The stain had never come out but it almost blends into the faded blue material, almost invisible except that Will knows to look for it.

Her breath comes deep and heavy and her lips part, tongue darting out to wet the center of her upper lip. Her eyelashes flutter and for a second he thinks she’s going to look away first. Not wanting him to know just how turned on she is by his crass suggestion would probably be a good reason to blink first.

She just swallows hard, tips her chin up in a challenge he isn’t sure either of them really is ready to go forward with.

“I don’t know, Pope,” Will says, slow and lazy, “I think she wants to.”

It’s not the first time they’ve fucked the same girl. Maybe not like this, not in this configuration but it’s that tangled up wanting again. They’ve done this before, or near enough. It’s just never been her. Pope’s adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and he can’t help himself, his gaze flicks off Will and onto her face. She turns to meet his gaze, close enough in the back seat that their noses almost brush. She gives a sharp intake of breath and tries to back up and give Pope room. But Benny’s chest is behind her and there’s no where else for any of them to go.

“That true?” Pope asks, one large hand lifting to hover at her neck, her jaw. He doesn’t touch her although they’ve all been in much closer quarters than this.

She gives a shaky little breath, a soft panting sound that Will’s never heard her make.

It should make Will jealous. That’s what started all this, after all. But she isn’t his, they’re all just sort of each other’s in this fucked up blood soaked little family. And he’s still calling the shots.

“Bet she’s wet as October,” he says, watching the way her head bumps back against Benny’s shoulder, “aren’t you darlin?”

"Are you?” Benny asks, his cheek pressing against hers where she tips her head back against his shoulder. His stubble has to scrape at her jaw. It’s been a long couple days and shaving isn’t high on the priority list. She doesn’t protest, if anything she rubs her cheek against the scruff of it.

Beside him Frankie shifts, Will catching the movement of his head as he tries to look into the back seat in the rear view mirror while simultaneously not wrapping them around a tree. Any accident at the speed they're going would be real fucking bad. That helps to sober Will. There’s a fine line to walk between distraction and self destruction. Especially because it’s never just himself anymore. Not since Pope’s first text.

Which is sort of ironic since it was the first time they’d operated as individuals, not the long arm of the military-industrial complex.

Will’s not so in his head he misses the way Benny’s fingers flash over her belt, the way the soft click of metal echos in Jeep even though it should be barely audible. Frankie swears under his breath and Will reaches out blindly. He bumps his knuckles on the other man’s shoulder, finds a place for his hand to sit where his fingers brush the warm side of his neck.

“We’re minutes from rendezvous,” Frankie says and there is a deep thread of regret in his voice.

“Minutes not seconds?” Pope asks and doesn’t wait for an answer.

The angle is all fucked up but he gets his hand in the front of her jeans, works between the denim and her skin until she makes a bitten off sound in the back of her throat. Her head thumps hard enough against Benny’s shoulder that he grunts. Frankie doesn’t look back at them but his head jerks, his mouth bumps Will’s hand. Will shifts his grip, rubs his thumb against Frankie’s jaw, feels the stubble there like the low burn of need at the base of his cock.

“Wet as the day is long,” Pope's voice is husky, burned out and she whines when he slides his hand away from her body. His long fingers shine slick in the low light and Will presses the heel of his hand against his cock, gives himself a little friction.

“We’re all like extremely fucked in the head,” she hisses, but the edge of her lips quirks in a smile, carves a dimple in her cheek.

Will’s pretty sure Pope lifted his fingers for her to suck them clean, it’s a favourite of his. But Benny beats her to the punch, lips closing over his fingers with an ease that Will certainly didn’t expect. She curses low and rough in her throat, treated to a front row seat of Benny swallowing down Pope's fingers like a pro.

“Fuck, babe,” he says, cuts off with a grunt when she elbows his ribs.

“If you say some dumb shit about how sweet I taste I swear to god,” she mutters and even in the dim light Will can see that she’s blushing. The colour spilling up from the flash of her cleavage exposed by his stolen Henley all the way up her throat and cheeks.

“We’re about to have company,” Frankie warns, his jaw working against Will’s hand. He reaches across the space between them to squeeze Will’s knee before they break apart.

Pope pulls her up off of Benny’s chest, close enough that their foreheads bump, their noses, their jaws as they pant in the same breath. She gives a little shake of her head, dispelling whatever worry she sees in his eyes. Before the tree cover breaks there’s nothing to show for whatever the fuck it was that Will just instigated.

Of course there isn’t because they’re professionals, and they couldn’t do this job if they couldn’t stow their shit when they had to.

They spill out onto the tarmac, buckle on bags, guns, gear. It’s a smooth oiled machine, five people who know each other too well to let a little thing like searing sexual tension get in the way. It’s not until they’ve piled into the ancient little Bonanza that’s supposed to get them one step closer to home that Will lets his gaze track back to her. It’s a damn good thing that this time they’re just transporting themselves because even with light gear the small plane feels crowded.

Her hands are on her weapon, her finger tapping her trigger guard in a pattern that is as familiar as his own heartbeat by now. He’s not even sure that she realizes she does it.

She feels his gaze and lifts her head to meet it, blowing hair out of her face where it’s fallen loose from her braid. When they’re in the air she’ll rebraid it, the silky strands dancing between her fingers in a mesmerizing ritual that means Will can relax.

“We’re not fucking finished here, Ironhead,” she warns, her voice crystal clear through their headsets.

“So you are going to let me watch you blow my brother or…” The laughter that cracks over the line is low and masculine but rather than being uncomfortable she just rolls her eyes and lifts her legs over the bags between them to rest her feet on his lap.

Will wraps his hand around her calf to hold her feet there as they start to taxi.

“Let you?” she asks, stressing the let part. Will’s not one to give up control easily.

“Sure,” Frankie says from the front with Pope, “He’s gonna show you what a good girl he can be.”

This time the laughter is at Will’s expense and she joins in, bumping knuckles with Benny across the aisle. But her eyes are hot, her pupils still blown. When she pulls her headset off Benny makes a low “ooh”. Will mimics her move and leans towards her, both of them curling their fists around their mic for a little added privacy. His arm is curled around her legs to give her extra balance. Even over the rattle of the engine she drops her voice low.

“Sorta thought you’d want me to choke on your dick first,” her tone is so mild, so matter of fact that it’s Will who chokes. Her smirk tells him she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Darlin, order doesn’t matter. It aint like that.”

For a second Will worries it’s the wrong thing to say, that what she’ll hear is that she doesn’t matter. Or that all that matters is fucking her. He should know her better than that. Her eyes go soft, her smile gentles.

“Yeah. More than a team,” she says, chucks his chin softly “You’re a softie, William Miller.”

“Oh I’ll show you hard, darlin,” he teases, rocking his hips up under her legs over his lap. Her laugh crinkles her eyes at the edges and she lets herself fall back into her seat, pulling her headset on.

Pope asks him how the shoulder is and Frankie gives them their ETA for the next leg of the journey and it’s all normal. It’s all so fucking normal that Will could believe that Pope hadn’t fingered her in the car just minutes ago, that Benny hadn’t licked it off his skin, that Will wasn’t the reason it all fucking started.

Except when she meets his eye she winks at him, catches her lip between her teeth. It's almost coquettish, almost shy and it makes Will think of all kinds of unspeakable things they can try. Yeah they’re not fucking finished by a long shot.