#didn't realize anything was wrong until it started itching

[thegeminisage]

most of the time its like yeah whatever im aging ive been doing it my whole life. and then sometimes a cut you got literally years ago opens for no reason???

[w1ld-wr1t3r]

could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

[slasherscream]

He’s Just Not That Into You

pairing:  jordan li x reader

summary: a hopeless romantic, you keep looking for love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong guys. that is, until you meet jordan li, who takes pity on you and tries to help you learn when a guy just isn’t into you.

gif credit: artemidosgifs

“You good?”

"Huh?" Dazed and drifting, you look up from your incredibly important task of peeling off the label for the worst tasting artisanal beer ever created.

You quickly remember why you focused on the task in the first place. The lighting at this party sucks. It's mostly dim, to try and hide all the unsavory things happening in every corner of the house. The brightest bits of it are all flashing. Neon blue. Neon red. Neon green. As if anyone has ever looked good in neon green lighting. That plus the never-ending movement of people dancing is enough to make you sick.

"Are you good or are you starting to tweak?" Your eyes adjust enough to see who's talking and you sit up straighter. Jordan Li. Number #2.

She's wearing her ever present scowl that makes you study extra hard in Brink's class. You don't ever want to be in the position to have to ask for clarification on an assignment or further guidance. Brink's so busy being renowned that he's a pretty absent teacher, if you're not one of his favorites. Everything menial falls to Jordan.

"I'm good! Totally good. Just vibing, y'know."

Jordan stares down at you, looks back out onto the sea of partygoers, "What vibe do you think you're matching?"

“Excuse me?”

"You've been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. You've barely moved. Did you take something?"

"No! I.... I didn't take anything. I'm just enjoying the atmosphere."

Jordan rolls her eyes, takes the beer bottle from your hand, and then takes your hand itself. She pulls you to your feet, easy, despite the way you go limp at the last second to try and stay seated. Without a word she begins to pull you through the crowd. Bewildered, you follow.

She doesn't stop till you're outside on the porch. Surprisingly, no one else is lingering. But the air has a chill that's pretty biting for an early day in fall. You take a deep breath. You hadn't realized how loud the music really was. How overwhelming every smell. The itch that crawled across your skin with each jostle of a body coming too near.

"Yeah, you look like you were really enjoying the atmosphere." Jordan drawls, leaned up against the railing, observing you.

Your first instinct was to say 'fuck you' to that, obviously. But at the last second you remember she is your TA and is probably doing all the actual grading for every assignment you turn in.

You force a smile, "Thank you. Guess I was feeling pretty anxious."

"What are you even doing here?"

"Should... I mean, I was... invited? If that's what you're asking. Although I think crashing parties is pretty typical college stuff, even if I wasn't-" 

“Not what I meant.” Jordan interrupts, “I mean you don’t usually go to parties. I never see you at any of them.”

“Maybe we just run in different circles.”

“Not really. You’re in the top ten now. What did you jump to, number 6?”

“Seven, actually.”

“Really? Well, won’t be long. Number 6 is a dick. He’ll be easy to knock out with the type of stats you’re pulling this year.” 

Somehow, this compliment bewilders you more than anything. Jordan must see it on your face, because she rolls her eyes again. 

“I keep an eye on the competition. Even if you are just a sophomore.”

“Okay, Junior.” You narrow your eyes at her. She narrows hers back, which feels like overkill, because she was already glaring. 

“So, what are you doing here?” 

“Did they hire you to be the bouncer for this party?” 

“Jesus, ‘m just making conversation. You looked like you were gonna hurl in there. What? Did your friends drag you here then ditch you?” 

“My friends would never do that. That violates the party safety rule. Arrive together, leave together.”

“Oh of course.” She says, nodding in a way that feels sarcastic. 

“I actually came without my friends.” You say, standing up straighter. Proud of yourself for stepping out of your shell even if it ended on a sour note. 

“You did?” Jordan raises an eyebrow. You deflate a little at the shocked tone. Even your TA thinks you’re lame. 

“Well…. I was supposed to meet someone here. But they… I dunno, I must’ve missed them. Or whatever.”

“Who were you supposed to meet?” 

You hesitate for a second, but they impatiently gesture for you to go on. So, begrudgingly you admit to, “Uuuuh… Andre?” 

“Andre?” In the blink of an eye they shift, and take a step closer. As if he wants you to see the disbelief on his face as clearly as possible. “How do you know Andre?” 

“What happened to we run in the same circle?” You snap back. “Andre’s top ten.” 

“Andre’s a fucking nepo baby.” Jordan scoffs

“Aren’t you friends?” You frown.

“Andre barely shows up to class, he knows why he’s top ten, trust me.” Jordan says. “Andre invited you?”

“Yes, Andre invited me. We were at the club last week and you know…talked.”

“You were at the club? You’re changing it up like crazy this year, huh L/N?”

“Lot of good it’s doing me.” You sigh. You twist the sleeve of your top, wrinkling the fabric. You’d spent hours picking out the perfect outfit that looked like you weren’t trying too hard, but brought out all your best features.

Jordan’s face twists, you’d almost mistake it for sympathy, “Did you see Andre at all tonight?”  

“Did he come here with you?” 

“Would you like me to lie or tell you the truth?” 

You sigh, moving to sit down on the porch steps, emotionally and socially exhausted. “It’s okay, I already know the answer.”

A moment of silence before Jordan moves to sit beside you. He offers back up the beer he took from you earlier, “You look like you could use a drink.” 

“Eh, you have it. If you’re not a germaphobe. Thanks for rescuing me.”

Jordan shrugs, takes a sip and almost spits it right back out, “God it tastes like fucking piss.” 

“You weren’t very nice to me during the rescue, so you didn’t deserve a warning.” 

“Well fuck me, I guess.” He laughs, staring at you. He let’s out a sigh of his own, “So which line did he use?” 

“Huh?”

“What did Andre say to you?” 

“He didn’t use a line.” You protest. 

“Andre doesn’t know how to do anything but use a line. Wait! Lemme guess,” Jordan looks you up and down before glancing at a few rings on your hand. “Were you wearing those?” 

You stare back at him. 

“Well?”

“Yes, I was, why?” 

“Did he come up to you with one of them and ask if you dropped it?” 

“.....Maybe. I repeat, why?” You ask, stomach twisting.

“Cause he slipped it off your finger with his powers so he’d have an opening. It’s his go to for girls that look shy. Seen it a million times.” 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, actually. Fuck me!” You groan, laying back against the steps and throwing your hands over your face. “You’re really good at comforting people, did you know that?” 

“I’ve been told to work on it.” 

“Clearly not enough.” 

“Just didn’t want you to fall for the bullshit any more than you already have.” 

You scrub your face harshly, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Sorry. Do you like apples? I can put a nice shiny one on your desk Monday morning as a thank you for the solid.” 

“Are you about to cry?” Jordan asks, bewildered.

“No.” 

“Over Andre Anderson?”

“No!” You sit up, glaring at him. He glares back. “Not exactly. It’s just… I don’t put myself out there a lot. So it sucks. That I tried… and all I got was a guy who fed me a line he’s used a million different times on a million different girls, who then ditched me at a party he invited me to. I should’ve just fucking stayed home.” 

You sniffle and then remember who you’re actually talking to and how awkward it’s going to be to see their face Monday morning for class if you keep spilling your guts. You stand up abruptly, already planning on apologizing for whatever you said while you were “drunk” tonight. You’re opening your mouth to make your excuses, already taking steps away from the stairs when Jordan reaches out, grabbing you gently by the wrist. 

“Wait! I’m… sorry, I mean-”

“Why are you sorry?” You sniff, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I could’ve… I could’ve been nicer. About telling you. About Andre.” Jordan pulls you to sitting back down beside him, slowly, so you can pull away if you really wanted to. 

“It’s okay. I should’ve known better.” You say quietly. 

“Hey, no. I made it sound like he’s super obvious about it but he’s honestly pretty smooth. His only hobbies are picking up girls and cocaine. He could make… fucking, I dunno, Ellen Ripley blush if he had the prep time! It’s really not your fault.” The comment surprises a wet laugh out of you and Jordan smiles, bumping your shoulders together. 

“Thanks, but he probably was obvious. I just… don’t see stuff like that coming very well.” You laugh bitterly.

“What do you mean?” 

“I apparently just can’t tell for shit when a guy is actually into me! Or just… entertaining himself.” You sigh. 

You and Jordan sit in silence for a second. You have no clue what’s going on in his head. You see him tapping his finger on the beer bottle, the sound of his rings the only noise for a moment. 

“I could help you.”

“Help me what?”

“I could teach you how to spot when a guy is just being an asshole or when he’s serious about you. So this doesn’t happen again.” Jordan shrugs, taking another swallow of the beer, flinching again at the taste. 

“Piss kink or short term memory loss?” 

“Offer retracted.” Jordan laughs.

“Why are you offering in the first place?” 

Jordan shrugs, looking out in the distance, “You’re… cool, y’know. Think of it as a welcome to the top ten gift. You’re only gonna get more and more attention now that you’re there. You’ll need to be able to sniff out bullshit or you’ll get eaten alive. No offense.”

“I’ve been in the top ten for the last six months.” You scowl. 

“Mazel tov.” 

“Dick.” You scoff, fighting back another laugh. You and Jordan make eye contact and both lose the battle, laughing together. 

You take a deep breath once the fit passes, “This isn’t a top ten humiliation ritual of initiation thing, right?”

“I’m way too busy to waste my time doing stupid shit like that.” Jordan says, familiar glare falling back onto his face.

“Sorry, rough night, had to ask.” You say sheepishly. “Offer still open?” You smile, extending your hand out for a handshake.

“Yeah, offers still open, L/N.” Jordan rolls his eyes, but he does shake your hand.

“So, number’s one pretty obvious but we have to establish the basics because you told me you were hopeless.” Jordan sips her chocolate milkshake. 

“Didn’t use the word hopeless, but sure.” You mutter, tossing a fry into your mouth and frowning at the lack of flavor. “Hit me.”

“If he calls off plans with you all the time he’s not interested. If he doesn’t give you as much heads up as humanly possible before he has to cancel a plan or bail then he might actually hate you.” 

“You’re exaggerating.” You scoff, shaking extra salt onto your fries.

Jordan reaches over, stealing one of your now delicious fries to dip it into her milkshake. “It’s a type of power play. Too many reasons to name why a guy might feel the need to pull something like that but we don’t wanna get too complicated. All you need to do is memorize the red flags and run when you see them.” 

“Okay…. follow up question, what would you consider to be ‘all the time’?”

“If you just started seeing each other and he cancels two dates in a row without desperately trying to make it up to you he doesn’t give a shit.” Jordan steals and dips another of your fries. 

“What about emergencies? Like… I dunno, a funeral? What if his Aunt died? So he cancels that one date. Then the next one he tries to plan his car breaks down or something, you know?” 

“He should call an uber and get to the fucking location of the date come hell or high water. That’s what a guy who likes you is gonna do. Don’t over complicate, L/N.”

“Oh and you don’t think you’re over-complicating the process of eating my fries?” You smack at her hand as it reaches for your plate for the umpteenth time during this lunch. “You could have ordered fries. Why didn’t you order fries?”

“Didn’t want any until I saw yours.” She tries again but you see the movement coming and block her hand, again. You did not notice the second, slightly sneakier hand that does successfully carry out the theft. 

“Did you just juke me over a fry? 

“Yeah, and I won.” 

You toss a fry at her and laugh when she manages to catch it with her mouth. Asshole.

You sit on the corner of Jordan’s desk, watching as he finishes up some last minute work that Brink asked him to do before heading out. You’d offered to meet back up later but he just shook his head and said it wouldn’t take long.

“What if he’s just a private person?” You ask, kicking your feet lightly. 

Jordan looks up from his laptop and frowns at you, “Why are you trying to invent exceptions to the rules? The rules are there to help you. Can you say that for me, L/N? Can you say the rules are there to help me?” 

“The rules are there to help me.” You repeat back, mocking their tone. 

“Thank you.” Jordan smirks at you, “Like I said, if he’s hiding your relationship from the world then he’s not serious about you. He should be introducing you to people. You should be on his social media. People should not be shocked you exist when meeting you. All that bullshit.” 

“And if they’re a private person?” You challenge.

Jordan pushes away his laptop, turning to face you. “Fuck me. The types of guys you’re gonna be around as a hero are all gonna be doing the same stuff as you. There’s gonna be a certain level of our life that’s always in the spotlight. Minimum of two posts a week if he’s constantly posting in general.” 

“I don’t post very much.” You counter.

“You should be posting more. Especially as a top ten. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be number 6 right now. You need to be more active on socials.” Jordan gives you a look before going back to typing. Two weeks ago that look would have put you on the verge of tears. Now you roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“It was an order as your TA, actually.” 

“Oh god, an order? I’m shaking in my boots.” You tease, playfully kicking his chair. 

“That just knocked your essay from a B- to a C, congratulations.” Jordan quips. 

“You were gonna mark my essay a B-, you dick? You know damn well I don’t turn in B- work. Who do you think-”

The rest of the afternoon is lost to playful outrage. The papers get graded late. Yours comes back an A+. No one besides you has gotten a grade of + anything since Jordan became TA. 

“Okay, so this is one with a grey area.” Jordan says.

“Oh no.”

“Shut up. If he never gets jealous that’s a red flag.” 

“But-” You sit up from where you’re laid out on the blanket you threw on the ground to better soak in the last warm rays of September sun. 

“I am not saying go out with some overly possessive fucking maniac.” Jordan cuts you off. 

“Be specific, Jordan. You can’t give me rules with built in exceptions. I’ll fail. Is that what you want? You want me to fail, Jordan? That’s messed up-”

“Shut up-” Jordan laughs, shaking her head. “Listen to me, if a guy never gets jealous he just doesn’t care at all. The most namaste, enlightened dude on the planet will get jealous in the right situation. I’m not saying tolerate anything crazy. It’s just good if he like… responds, when you say you’re going to study alone with another dude at 9pm, in the guy’s dorm... while his roommate is gone.”

“Is studying alone with another dude, in his dorm while his roommate is gone, okay as long as it ends before 9pm?”

Jordan rips out grass from the ground and tries to sprinkle it onto your face. You put up a force-field and laugh when she sticks her tongue out. 

“He’s gotta give you his full attention. When he’s with you, he’s with you. Everyone gets distracted. But if his head is always somewhere else, every time you see him, he just doesn’t like you.” Jordan swipes at your head, fast enough to be a challenge to dodge but not hard enough to hurt you had the hit connected. 

You go in for a kick yourself and he practically twirls out of the way. You try twice more, managing to evade his own hits just barely. 

Breathlessly, you gesture for a time out and Jordan sighs, “We gotta get you better at hand to hand.”

“That’s what my shields are for.” 

“The way you use your shields is really good. You’ve gotten a lot more creative this year. It’s why you’ve been jumping ranks so fast. You’re powerful.” 

The earnest tone he uses makes you lift up from the hunched over position of misery on your knees, “You think so?”

“Well…. yeah.” He clears his throat. “But you can’t get lazy. What if someone wears you out and you don’t have any energy left for them? No more shields. You need to be able to fight.”

“If I don’t have any energy left for my shields and my only option left is hand to hand combat, respectfully, it’s my time.” 

Jordan rolls his eyes, “Break’s over. Back in position, stay on your toes more so it’s easier to move, okay?” 

You’re about to get back into form when you hear calls of Jordan’s name from across the arena. You turn and see Luke and Cate coming over, wide grins on their faces. You give them a small wave and they both wave back, incredibly eager. 

You’ve always been friendly with one another but the strength of enthusiasm is… strange. Enough to make you blink in surprise.  

“Thought you said you were super booked up this week doing stuff for Brink? Absolutely no free time.” Cate asks, staring Jordan down. 

“This isn’t free time. I can’t slack on hand to hand combat training. It’s important.” Jordan stares Cate down even harder. 

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Luke asks casually. 

“Jordan saw my form in a video I just posted and apparently it was ‘despicable’ and ‘the most insane way he’d ever seen anyone do that before’. He rushed over to show me what the ‘right way to do it is’. Control freak.” You fake a cough as you say the last part.  

“You were gonna hurt your back!”

“Super healing.”

“Super herniated disc.” Jordan quips back and you scoff, shoving him. 

He shoves you back with an eye roll, fighting back a smile.

“How ungentlemanly of you.” You gasp. A shift, and she shoves you again making you laugh, “and unladylike!”

“You shoved me first!” 

“Children, please try and be civil we’re in public.” Luke cuts in and you almost jump at the sound of his voice. 

It’s easy to get lost in your own world when you’re with Jordan. You turn to be politely facing your classmates and not just Jordan, wearing a sheepish smile. 

“Stop teasing them. They’re cute.” Cate smiles.

“Anyways, you guys need something?” Jordan asks.

“We can’t just hang out? Are you trying to get rid of your best friends?” Luke asks.

“Yes.”

“Jordan!” You bump her with your elbow. 

“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone. Wanna grab lunch with us after though?” Cate asks, looping her arm through Luke’s.

“You feeling up to lunch, L/N?” Jordan looks over at you.

With three unexpected pairs of eyes on you, you fluster. “If you go easy on me for the rest of training, yes.”

“Not a chance.” Jordan snorts. “We’ll be there though. Now scram. L/N needs a lot of help.”

“No, I fucking do not!” You protest.

The two of you don’t notice Luke and Cate walking away trading looks.

“When you don’t know really know anything about him, it’s not a good sign.” Jordan tilts the bowl of popcorn towards you. 

“And what do you mean, specifically, by knowing anything about him?” You ask, taking some pieces and throwing them back.

“Has has ever shared his feelings? Talked about his personal life? If you don’t know anything besides the superficial stuff he doesn’t care about you.” Jordan states. “You also need to look out for him not knowing anything about you. Does he give you space to open up? Does he remember the shit you do tell him?”

“Got it, so just look out for the superficial surface level conversations if you never have any deeper moments.” You say.

“Exactly.” Jordan says before her eyes snap back to the screen suddenly. “Did they say they’re gonna try and make that house feel more ‘open concept’? What the fuck is their problem?” 

“Huh?” You look back to Jordan’s TV, which is playing Property Brothers. “You got a problem against open concept?” 

“I have a problem with every house being made to look the same, inside and out. It’s bad enough new houses don’t have unique floor plans. Now we’re taking houses that were unique and fucking them up till they’re boring! What ever happened to individuality? I bet they’ll paint the walls grey too. Fuck me.” She huffs, leaning back against the couch. 

“Are you really into this show or just really into design patterns?” You ask, charmed at her passion for something completely random. 

“A bit of both.” Jordan says. “I wanted to be an architect. Before I got my powers.” 

“Shut up! No, you did not.” 

“I did.” She laughs, “I used to draw up plans and torment my parents with them every hour of the day.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon talking about your hidden passions. 

You even get the honor of seeing a few of the sketches Jordan made years ago. They were crinkled at the edges, pencil markings dull with age in some places. You smiled down at the folder Jordan keeps the drawings in. When you look up, finally, to compliment them you notice a strange look on Jordan’s face. 

Thinking you’d made her self conscious with your long silence you wrapped an arm around her and told her she would have made a hell of an architect. And probably killed someone with the utter lack of load bearing beams in her structures. 

You expected her to shove you off playfully but she only leaned into you and smiled, flipping to the next page of the folder.

When you get back to your own dorm room, moon high in the sky, you have to stifle a laugh. The latest post on Jordan’s Instagram is a picture of you standing with your hands on your hips in the middle of their room, looking baffled. 

The caption: I handed her the remote and walked away for five minutes. We’ve been looking for almost an hour #jesus christ #banned from room 4ever. 

You step out into the hallway and call Jordan up, demanding they take down their character assassination attempt because you two only looked for 26 minutes, actually. 

They refuse. 

You’re so incensed by the exaggeration that you wind up back outside Jordan’s dorm room not ten minutes later. When she opens the door, and sees you standing there, she bursts into laughter. She drags you inside, and when you ask her when the ban got lifted she just throws you on the bed. You spend the rest of the night arguing semantics. 

You and Jordan were sitting in the ground floor of the school’s library where you were allowed to talk quietly. You were teaching them how to fold paper to make little stars while they were teaching you how to make the perfect paper airplane. 

“Are you filled with barely suppressed rage? Why is it so damn wrinkled?” You laugh at their mangled star.

Jordan grabs another piece of paper with a huff, pushing her bob back behind her ears. “You are shit at giving instructions. This is impossible. Do the steps slower again.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m actually not capable of slowing myself down times 3 like a Youtube video.” You tease.

“Fuck you.” Jordan kicks you under the table with her foot. “Again. Show me.”

“You start with this corner here, then you twist it over here, next you wanna-”

“Hey! Hey! What’s up people!” You and Jordan turn in perfect sync to hiss at the person to be quiet only to find that person to be Andre Anderson. 

You turn back towards the table, Jordan moves an arm to curl around the back of your chair. 

“Hey.” Jordan says flatly. You make some noise that you hope passes for a greeting.

“Sorry, too loud. So this is where the party is, huh? What’re you two doing?” Andre grabs a chair on the opposite side of the table and you frown, focusing intensely on the paper before you. 

“Don’t you have a class right now?” Jordan asks sharply.

“Blowing it off.” Andre grins back.

Jordan scoffs. You only notice your shoulders are practically up to your ears when Jordan puts her hand there and rubs. You relax, letting out a quiet breath you were holding. Jordan gives you a squeeze. 

“Awww, you making little stars? Cute. Wanna show me how, F/N?” Andre has the nerve to sound flirtatious. 

After ditching you without a word and radio silence to back it up. To really make sure there’s insult to match the injury. You clench your jaw. Keep moving your hands. Try to zone out. 

The hand on your shoulder gets bigger and so does the thigh that brushes against yours under the table. “Could you fuck off for a bit? We’re trying to relax after our exams this morning.”

“Ouch. Didn’t know you couldn’t relax with me around, man.” Andre bites back. “F/N, you want me to stay, don’t you?” 

You get up from the table abruptly. The sudden sting in your eyes doesn’t even allow you you to collect your things. Your chest feels tight. You have to just get out of here. You hope in a school of future superheroes no one will steal your stuff. You think you hear calls of your name from behind you. Some yelling. Your ears are ringing too much. You break into a sprint. 

You can’t even make it to your dorm. You have to settle for tucking yourself into the first patch of trees behind a building you can find. You try to fight back the tears. One breathe. Two. Three. Try to focus on the birds chirping somewhere above you. But the memories are all flooding in at once and you start to cry. Heaving, chest burning sobs.

“F/N. F/N. F/N, hey look at me.” You zone back into the world to Jordan pushing your hair away from your face and you sob.

“Fuck me, I’ll kill him. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get so upset. You seemed like you didn’t care after that night… I-  I’ll fucking knock his teeth in.” Jordan hisses. You’d thought you’d seen them angry before. But their face has never looked like this.  

“What’s… are you having a panic attack?” Jordan asks, still petting your hair gently. You manage to nod. “Is touching you okay? Is it making it worse?” You push yourself into his hands and without another word he pulls you into his lap, tucking you against him. 

You notice absently he’s wearing his favorite jacket and try to shift, so that you’re not getting tears and snot onto the fabric. He pushes your head back against his shoulder, shushing you gently. You let yourself relax, letting out the rest of the tears. Letting the anxiety leave your body. You start your grounding techniques as your breathing evens. You can see the sharp cut of Jordan’s jaw. Hear his heartbeat. The birds chirping. Feel his hands as they rub soothing circles into your skin. Smell the cologne he wears. You tuck yourself closer, even though no more tears are coming. 

“Andre is a fucking loser.” Jordan says, quietly but vehemently, “You shouldn’t waste a second fucking thinking about him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. It’s not you. It’s just who he is.” 

“It’s not just Andre… It’s… it’s not even mostly Andre.” You say quietly. “I mean he’s a dick but… it just brings up memories.” 

“Memories?” Jordan echoes softly, and you know you don’t have to tell him anything but you want to. 

“When I was younger… I was even more of a wall flower than I am now. Shocker, I know.” You try to joke, Jordan only hums to let you know he’s listening, pulling you closer. “Even though I had powers I wasn’t popular or anything. I had trouble controlling them. Not enough to be dangerous… just enough to be… well, a loser, honestly. Because of my anxiety, and how loud my head gets my force-fields would just pop out whenever. I couldn’t stop it. If I was scared. If I got nervous. If I was feeling stupid, or ugly. All the time. People called me bubble girl.”

“I learned to just keep to myself but I was such an easy, fun target. Sneak up on the mouse and watch them jump and make a bubble! Fun!” You laugh bitterly. You think you feel Jordan kiss the top of your head, but you’re still out of it. “It made even getting out of bed to go to school hard. Administration wouldn’t take it serious as bullying because I was a supe: if I wanted it to stop I should defend myself.” 

“My parents felt the same way. Wouldn’t let me transfer. But I didn’t want to fight back. I didn’t want to turn myself into something I’m not just to be left alone! I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought eventually everyone would get bored, mature a little. But it just got worse and worse every fucking year. Senior year was… bad, though. I was getting better at controlling my powers so what kids would do to make me react was worse. But I just ignored it. I started just… pulling into myself. Whenever anyone would pour paint on my favorite outfit. Or cut my hair. Or hit me, I’d make the bubble in my head instead, and go there. Eventually, towards the end I thought people finally got bored, they stopped fucking with me as much. I thought I’d be able to graduate in peace.” 

“There was this one boy… he was popular. But he’d always been nice to me. He smiled at me in the hallways. Would help me up if people shoved me when he was around. He even gave me his sweater once, when someone cut up my shirt during gym. His friends were dicks but I thought he was different, I thought he was nice.”

“He suddenly started being even more nice to me. It felt… when he asked me to prom I just wanted to be normal for one second. I should have known. I probably did know. I just wanted to pretend, for five seconds, I wanted to pretend.” You trail off, lost in the memory.

“What happened?” Jordan asks, voice sounding hoarse. You try to pull back to see what’s wrong but he keeps you still. You realize he started rocking the both of you as you spoke. You didn’t realize how soothing it was. 

“It was a joke, obviously. We went to go shopping together, so we’d match, he told me. When we got to the shop he insisted we go to all his friends were waiting for us. Recording, of course. They all laughed at me. I still remember what one girl said, ‘you’re more crazy than we thought if you honestly ever believed someone like him would go out with a loser like you’.”

“F/N, those people were fucking assholes. They… god what the fuck is wrong with people. That’s not true.” Jordan makes you look at him, suddenly. You’re shocked that his eyes are red. “You’re not a fucking loser.”

“It’s okay, Jordan. I know they were just assholes. I always knew. It just hurts still. I’ve… I’ve avoided dating ever since, obviously. My first kiss wasn’t even romantic. It was just with a good friend that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me. So I could get it out of the way.”

“I’m sorry.” Jordan looks helpless, like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what. 

“You didn’t do anything, Jordan. No need to say sorry.”

“And then Andre went and fucking… fucking motherfucker I’ll kill him!” Jordan snaps, goes to stand up and then remembers he’s holding you halfway. He sits back down, grip a little tighter, but still gentle. 

“It’s okay. It wasn’t even a joke, what Andre did. He’s just… inconsiderate. And I happen to have a nasty experience that makes me blow everything out of proportion. I’ll have to get used to that kind of thing if I want to actually start dating.” 

Suddenly both of Jordan’s hands are on your face, holding you still so you have to look at him. “You’re not blowing anything out of proportion. And… and you don’t have to get used to shit, F/N. You’re fucking incredible. You don’t need to tolerate anything, from fucking anyone. You’re a fucking… you’re a fucking dream girl! You’re smart, and funny, and sweet, and strong, and beautiful. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. You don’t have to settle for fucking anything. Okay?”

You stare up at him, shocked, he gives your head a gentle shake, “Okay?” You nod slowly.

He pulls you into another hug, the tightest one you’ve ever gotten. You don’t pull away until the sun dips so low you’re both draped in gold. 

“Fucking rank number fucking 5!” Jordan screams, arm wrapped around you tightly. A chorus of cheers from the rest of the group and people nearby. 

You cover your face, laughing helplessly. Jordan didn’t surprise you with this party, they knew that would only make you anxious, walking into a room full of people you weren’t expecting to see with (even if asked not to) cameras pointed at you. 

Jordan had texted you: I am throwing you a surprise party on Friday night to celebrate your new ranking. Please practice your surprised face. 

You had practiced. You’d done a very convincing gasp when you walked in. 

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Jordan says, for the umpteenth time, looking at you. You feel your cheeks go hot.  

“Oh shut up. I’ll get a big head soon.” 

“You deserve it more than anyone. You’re fucking awesome.” Jordan had started heaping more praise onto you than you knew what to do with, most days. 

She claimed it was practically training. That you needed to get used to people complimenting you, with the level of fame you’re going to reach. That alone had made your stomach erupt into butterflies. Jordan believed in you. Really believed in you. 

“You’re the one who’s awesome… you’re a good mentor, Jordan.” You reach up to hold the hand that’s been wrapped around your shoulder all evening. 

“Are you saying that following my advice works?” Jordan pretends to gasp. You playfully dig your nails into her side and she jumps before grabbing the offending hand and holding onto it. She doesn’t let go. 

Her advice had worked. You posted on your social media more, at her insistence. You started to become a beast at hand to hand, thanks to Jordan’s brutal training regimen. You were socializing more, because as long as Jordan was there you felt safe. But you were even feeling confident enough to do things on your own that high school you would be shocked didn’t instantly send you to the grave. 

You’d done an interview, for God’s sake! All on your own. Although your eyes kept darting to Jordan right off camera, who smiled reassuringly the whole time.  

“I will not. Because then you’ll get a big head.” You tease, giving both her hands a squeeze. 

“Let’s get a drink.” Jordan says, tugging you towards the kitchen. 

It’s quieter in the kitchen. The drink table in the living room is still overflowing so no one’s had to start looking for leftovers yet. 

“How you feeling?” Jordan asks, helping you sit on the counter before going to the fridge. After a second he pulls out your favorite. He hid them in the far back, you can tell by how far he had to lean. 

“Good.” You smile as he pops your drink open before handing it to you. He leans against one of your knees. 

“Party isn’t too much, right?” He asks, for the third time tonight. 

Laughing you push a strand of unruly hair back from his face. He freezes at the touch, before a smile creeps onto his lips. 

“Party is perfect, Jordie. Thank you. For everything. For being so…” 

“Don’t thank me for treating you the way you should always be treated.” 

“You treat me like a princess! What if I get spoiled? You��ll have to deal with a monster.” You tease. “You won’t even be able to be mad at me, because you’ll be the reason.” 

“You’ll terrorize the world.” 

“Cause complete chaos.” 

“Devastation, even.” As Jordan speaks you realize you’d gotten closer. A lot closer. Your chest seizes up with anxiety as you wonder how long you’d been leaning in like this. You almost pull back, ready to apologize. But you’re frozen stiff now and realize the two of you are still getting closer. With a jolt you realize you both leaned in. 

Jordan has a hand on your thigh, you reach down, nervous, to hold his hand as reflex. It’s an every day comfort, lately. You give his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back. You don’t pull away as Jordan keeps leaning in. 

“Jordan! Come stop Luke from doing a keg stand, please!” Cate’s voice, typically pleasant sounds incredibly annoying at the moment. 

“Gimme a sec!” Jordan calls back, still looking you in the eye. You squeeze his hand tighter. He looks nervous. They’ve looked so nervous all night. Nervous you were having a good time. Nervous you were happy. Nervous… nervous to kiss you? Is he about to fucking kiss you?

“He has an interview tomorrow! Hustle please!” Cate calls back in a sing song tone. 

“Fuck me!” Jordan throws his head back, shifting, frustrated. “I’ll be right back, okay?” 

You nod, a little breathless from anxiety and excitement, and dread, and the full spectrum of human emotion. “Okay.” 

Jordan stomps out of the kitchen, probably going to rip Luke a new asshole from the sound of her boots on the floor. She sounds like her own stampede. You giggle, pressing your hands, still warm from holding Jordan’s into your face. You may be bad at signals but… 

You sit under the hideous fluorescent kitchen lighting feeling like something inside you is glowing. You kick your feet, nervous, waiting for Jordan to get back. Wondering what they’ll do. What they’ll say. If you’re delusional. You have to be delusional. You have to be. 

“Guard dog taking a walk?” In the doorway stands Andre, looking a little rougher than usual. His right eye is dark, like a black eye that’s started healing. There’s a small bandage over his nose. 

“What happened to you?” You gasp.

“Your guard dog.” Andre says, reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of spicy vodka. “Jordan’s number #2 for a reason. Congrats on making #5 by the way.” 

“Thanks.” You say. “When did Jordan do that?”

“A week ago. Would have probably gotten it earlier but apparently Cate talked them into waiting to see me until they were less pissed off. For which I’m eternally grateful.” He says, taking a sip straight from the bottle without chaser. 

You don’t really know what to say so you sit in silence. Legs still kicking, more from anxiety now, less from giddiness. 

“He gave me a busted lip too, but that healed pretty quickly. I also think he might have kicked a rib loose, been a little sore on the left side.” Andre says, he doesn’t seem to be angry but you don’t know why else he’d talk to you. 

“I didn’t ask Jordan to do that. If you’re wondering.” You say, slowly. 

“No! No! You’re way too sweet for that. This was just my shitty way of getting around to an apology. I’m sorry. I should’ve said sorry before Jordan kicked my ass but I promise Jordan kicking my ass isn’t why I’m saying sorry. The original plan was to ask you out again, make it up to you with dinner. Jordan just kicked my ass first.” 

“I hope to god you’re not working your way around to asking me on a pity date.” You narrow your eyes at him. 

“So Jordan could put me in a full body cast?” Andre laughs loudly, shocking you. “No offense, you’re really cute, but nothing’s worth that fucking beat down.” 

“Well, I guess I accept your-”

“You don’t have to forgive me. Jordan was pretty clear that I tore up some old wounds. I didn’t mean to, but I’m sorry. I can just be… a dick, sometimes. Often. All the time.” Andre jokes. 

“What did Jordan say exactly?” You ask nervously. 

“Nothing specific! I could barely pick out anything at all, really. The sound of her fist breaking my nose was pretty loud.” 

You laugh then try to cover it up by taking a sip. Andre grins and you relax, knowing it was his way of breaking the tension. 

“Can I ask you something?” Andre asks suddenly.

“You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.” You shrug.

“Fair enough.” Andre says, toying with the bottle. “Do you like Jordan?” 

“What?”

“Because Jordan sure likes you.” Andre states. 

“No, they don't.” It’s a reflex to deny the possibility of someone having feelings for you but the words feel wrong once you say them. Weren’t you just about to kiss? Wasn’t his hand just burning into your thigh like a brand? “Do they?” 

“Jordan would never do a fraction of the shit they’ve been doing for you if they didn’t care about you.” Andre takes another sip, then moves to saunter from the kitchen. He stops, a glance over the shoulder. “However you feel, tell Jordan. And soon. They’re looking a little desperate.” 

Then it’s just you and the sound of the party, and the cool marble you’re sitting on. And a lot to think about. 

“Your incessant leg jiggling is distracting me from how and why they intend to turn this beautiful victorian home into another soulless open concept millennial nightmare.” Jordan says, glancing from the TV to your leg which, yes, has been jiggling for awhile.

“I’ve got a question.”

“Obviously.” 

“How can you tell if a girl isn’t into you?” 

Jordan turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed, “what?”

You feel heat flood your cheeks, but keep your eyes firmly glued to the screen. “Are the rules the same? Or different?”

“You like girls?” Jordan blurts out.

“What?” The question is enough to make you look at her. And now you're trapped by societal standards of politeness to maintain the most anxiety inducing eye contact you've ever shared.

“You've never talked about… you've never said anything about liking girls.”

“You only offered up the help for the one gender. Didn't wanna get greedy.” You force a laugh.

“How long have you…. have you always liked girls?” Jordan asks and you hope to God you're not hallucinating that quick glance at your lips. 

“You follow me on Instagram!”

“What's that have to do with anything?”

“I literally have the pride flag in my bio?”

“I thought you were-”

“-Jordan Li, if you're about to tell me you thought I was an ally I'll beat you to death, and then jump off a cliff.” 

Jordan laughs, ducking her head, hair falling into her face slightly. You dig your fingers into your thigh to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. 

“Is there a reason why you're asking… about how to tell when a girl isn't into you, all of a sudden?” Jordan looks up at you and the world narrows down to her brown eyes, and her nose, and her mouth. And the look in her eyes you hope you're not reading wrong.

You blink in confusion when amusement crosses over her face and for one awful second you think Jordan is laughing at you and you could throw up. But you realize you're suddenly looking at her from behind a force-field of light purple and feel queasy out of a different sense of embarrassment.

You can hear a smile in Jordan’s voice, but you refuse to unbury your face from your hands, “Never seen you not be able to control your powers before.” 

“Please kill me.”

“Can't. Your forcefield is still up, princess.” She teases, tapping at the bubble. 

With a groan of humiliation you drop your field and peek up at her through your fingers. 

“First the forcefield, now the hands. Still haven't answered my question though.” You almost snip at her that she should take a wild guess at your answer but there's something about Jordan’s expression. It's teetering between playful, guarded, and… something else. And you have to bank on whatever that something else is.

You take a deep breath in and move in closer, “You're not so awful a teacher that the lessons for a guy didn't stick, but considering you're a girl too who knows what incredibly important lesson you didn't know you had to teach me. The lesson… the girl lesson, that would have stopped me from misinterpreting what's been happening here. If I’m misinterpreting. All I know is… all I can really be sure of, is how I feel. And I, well-” You bite your lip, taking a shaky breath, and Jordan moves in closer, “I'm about halfway to being in love with you.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before her lips are on yours. Her hand curls at the base of your neck, pulling you in closer. A brush of her tongue against your bottom lip before you let her in with a breathless sigh. She moans against your lips, other hand moving to your waist to tug you into her lap. 

You lose your balance a little, fall into her in a way that is not at all seductive. You laugh, embarrassed and she chases the sound, using both hands to put you in her lap, holds you there firm and secure.

“You-” She kisses you, interrupting your sentence. “Haven’t-” Another kiss. “Told me-” She holds you tight this time, tilting her head to the side, sweeping her tongue against yours and gasping at your taste. You pull back with shaky hands, keeping her at a distance with a grip on her shoulders.

“Could we use our big girl words?” You ask, breathless and a little dizzy. 

“I’ve fucking only been in love with you for two years, thanks for fucking noticing.” She huffs, exasperated and smiling. 

“How on Earth was I supposed to interpret your seething stare of hate for being in love with me?” You’re already melting against her as she pulls you back in with the guiding grip on your hair. 

“Shoulda looked harder, baby.” She coos, and doesn’t let you up again anytime soon. 

A/N: my magnum opus of pining! if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo

[laws-right-arm]

hihi! can i request the demon brothers with a kuudere mc who they find out is ticklish?

Oh my gosh hi!! I can't believe I got some requests so fast and this is the first fjdjfjd- but anyways, I'm so sorry for the wait for this, I have such awful luck because the day after I started this blog I got a really bad fever 🥲. I'm pretty much recovered from the worst of it though which is good, and I had enough energy to do this one so that's a good sign! I promise to others that I will get to their requests soon once I'm feeling better! But anyways, I thought this was a really cute one to write! so without further ado...

The demon brothers finding out kuudere MC is ticklish

(I wrote these as points and mini scenarios btw, I hope you like it!)

Lucifer

• he'd be pleasantly surprised that's for sure

• he doesn't tease you for it, but he's certainly amused

• the slightest gentle brush against your side was all it took to break that cool, collected exterior you always put up

• You two would have just been sitting together in the house of lamentation's library (or in his private study), relaxed as he's either quietly going through documents or simply just sat reading with his arm snaked around your waist

• but then at some point he'd start to absentmindedly stroke up and down your side with soothing intentions, only for you to react a little differently to how he had expected

"MC?" He asked, concern evident in his careful tone following you fully flinching under his touch. You try to dismiss his worry nonchalantly, saying that you just felt a sudden itch that had caught you off guard. Lucifer narrows his crimson eyes in suspicion, not believing that excuse in the slightest, but he wouldn't push to find out what it actually was, not yet anyway. He resumed what he was doing beforehand with you still by his side. At some point, he started gently caressing your side again, whilst this time keeping a watchful eye of you in his peripheral. He could feel you tensing this time, which worried him for a moment until he peered over at your expression. You seemed to be trying to suppress what appeared to be laughter, which honestly shocked Lucifer; you never usually expressed anything notable ever. To test his new suspicions, he stopped his light touches for a moment, to which he felt you relax once more, before resuming again, leading to the same response as last time. Realization finally dawned upon him and he couldn't help but subtly smirk in amusement; his dear, usually so cold MC seemed to have a ticklish spot. How cute.

Mammon

• oh you know he is going to use this against you as soon as he finds out

• he honestly finds it so funny, that someone as stoic as you are is ticklish

• however at the same time, it warms his heart; he loves you but he really thinks you should smile more, so you can imagine how happy he is when he makes this accidental discovery that breaks your usual exterior

• he finds this out one time when you and him are in his room whilst he's ranting about something that you can barely be bothered to comprehend as it's something Mammon is bound to blow more out of proportion than necessary

• but when he sees that you're not really giving him your fullest attention, he pokes your side to try and regain it, only to be met with the look on your face

"So then that bastard accused me, me! Can you believe that MC? He didn't even try to- MC?" He rants before cutting himself off as he sees the look of disinterest planted on your face. "Oi, come on! MC!" He shouts, lightly jabbing your side, only for you to take in a sharp deep breath as your eyes shoot to Mammon, a look of what appeared to be surprise now spreading upon your features as you blink. For a moment, Mammon was perplexed as his eyes scanned you, worried that he maybe had maybe hurt you in some way. When he sees nothing indicating that, he decides to lightly poke your side once more, and immediately senses you suppressing something. "What's wrong MC?" He asks mischievously as he begins to get an idea of why you are actually reacting to his touch like that. "Don't tell me you're..." He trails off, emphasizing each word with a gentle jab to your sides. That's when he saw it, the glimpse of a smile and the suppressed laughter. He didn't need to finish his sentence after seeing your response. He grins victoriously at the conclusion of your ticklishness, your rare smile being the best treasure he's ever gotten to behold.

Leviathan

• he blushes so hard when he finds out, finding it absolutely adorable

• he's also pretty amazed in all honesty, always having thought that there was nothing that could break your cold exterior

• he accidentally finds out when you two are just chilling in his room, cozied up in his bathtub/bed with his tail wrapped around you as he's playing a game on his handheld

• you had been close to falling asleep like that when he shifts slightly, his tail brushing your side and back causing you to jolt, scaring him until he sees your face

"A-Ah! MC are you okay?!" Levi asks, panicking as he thinks he has hurt you terribly in some way when he shifted a moment ago. You try to calmly tell him your completely fine but he's not having it, checking you over frantically almost on the verge of a breakdown at the thought of hurting his precious human. In the midst of his frenzy, he unfurls his tail from your waist, the leathery appendage brushing your sides once more, causing you to react similarly to before, making Levi pause abruptly. He looks over you once again, more pensive than before, but then he sees the look on your face. Your usual emptiness appeared to have cracked a little as he swears he saw the slightest of smiles on your face. It soon dawns on him that you, his super cool and collected MC, is ticklish. He felt his cheeks burn at the idea of that being true, with you being too adorable for him to handle.

Satan

• like Lucifer (dare I say), he is also pleasantly surprised at the revelation

• he'd lightly tease you for it, but he finds it so endearing that all it takes to bring out part of your softer side is the lightest brush of his fingertips against your skin

• he'd have just been reading with you resting atop him as he softly plays with your hair, when his fingers end up brushing over your nape

"Are you okay?" He asks softly after having felt you tense a little when his fingers brushed over the skin of your neck. You answer simply and neutrally that you are fine before telling him to just continue to read as you get comfortable against him once more. He does so so with no further questions, reading his book quietly whilst continuing to gently rake his digits through your hair. After a few minutes, he moves his hand to gently stroke over your neck once more, feeling you tense once more. He raises a brow, feeling worry begin to surface once more before as quickly as it had came, it immediately fades when he sees your shoulders lightly jolting. Your face was hidden against him, but he could tell that you were trying to restrain laughter. He let out a quiet chuckle, concluding that you had a ticklish spot much to his pleasant surprise. Carefully placing his book aside, he wraps his arms around you fully. "You're adorable."

Asmodeus

• oh boy

• he gets so so excited when he finds out that you have a ticklish spot, the idea of hearing your laugh or seeing your smile making him feel as though he'll be able to reascend back up to the celestial realm

• he finds it adorable and will tease you relentlessly for it, always bearing good intentions

• he's also the quickest to realise it I believe

• he makes this incredible discovery when he makes you (with consent of course; consent is sexy) let him give you a full body massage as he believes you could use one to ease the stresses bought on from the RAD

"How's this darling?" Asmo asks, voice smooth and sweet like honey as he gently rubs the lavender oil into your calves, massaging any knots out that he could feel beneath your skin. You hum softly in response, remaining quiet for the most part as you let Asmo do his thing. The fifth born quietly hums a pop tune to himself as he continues his ministrations, his manicured hands moving downwards before eventually reaching your feet. He feels you tense slightly but thinks nothing of it as he continues on, gently grasping one of your feet before he begins to massage some knots out of it. That's when he feels you tremble slightly, making him pause, still holding your foot as he looks over at you. "MC, dear, are you okay...?" He trails off as you insist you're okay. He continues on and immediately realises that you must have ticklish feet, so he can't help but deliberately brush the pads of his fingers over the soles of your feet just to elicit another response, basking in the hushed sounds of your restrained laughter that you thought he couldn't hear.

Beelzebub

• he doesn't actually realise for a good moment after he unintentionally tickles you that you are ticklish

• but when he does, he can't help but chuckle himself, finding it nice to finally see even the smallest of smiles from you, though he'd definitely like to see more

• he finds out one night when you are both up having a midnight snack in the kitchen

• the cookie you were eating had crumbled a little, causing you to get crumbs on yourself

• he goes to wipe some off for you that had fallen onto your neck, only for you to flinch

"MC? What's wrong?" Beel asks through a mouthful of his own snack, retracting his hand back from your neck after having wiped off the crumbs. You relax once more, plastering a calm, neutral expression upon your face as you respond that it was nothing. Beel's brow furrows as he peers down at you skeptically for a moment before continuing on with his snack beside you. As he does so, he suddenly starts to ponder about a moment ago, and realises that he thinks he saw you actually smile very briefly, something he's never seen you do before. He tried to think what could have made you do that. Was it the cookie tasting nice maybe? Did you think of something that made you smile? Was it...were you ticklish? Beel halted when he reaches that thought, looking over at you once more before deciding that that had to be what it was when he touched your neck to dust of the cookie crumbs. It brought a big smile to his face as he quietly chuckled at that idea. He still wished you'd smile more though.

Belphegor

• he's very smug about it when he found out

• definitely teases you for it, the fact that 'tough, stoic MC' could crumble under just a mere, small touch to their sides

• but aside from him teasing you, he finds it overwhelmingly endearing, especially if he gets to hear you laugh, even if just a quiet one, or see your smile, even if just a small one

• you two were cuddling when he made this amusing discovery

Belphie sighs blissfully as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath as he cuddles into you, wrapping his fluffy tail around your waist. At that, you shift notably, body tensing particularly around where his tail was. "What's wrong...?" He asks groggily, moving his face back to look at you, only for you to immediately bury your face against his shoulder whilst quietly murmuring that it was nothing. Not buying it, Belphegor rewraps his tail around you, this time bringing a hand down to soothingly caress your hip, to which you responded with a much more notable flinch and intake of breath. From that, Belphie quickly realises what's up. "Oh, I see now." He says with a smug smirk plastered on his face as he continues to teasingly stroke your sides until you - shakily through a hushed giggle - asked him to stop, to which he eventually complied, settling for cuddling you once more.

[restinslices]

Stay

Bi-Han x Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 1499

Summary: Just some sad angst about Bi-Han’s significant other leaving him from his POV. Inspired by that scene of Kaz telling Inej to stay and Inej saying she'll have him without his armor. You don't gotta know the scene to know what I'm talking about. Just follow the plot.

Bi-Han had a thousand thoughts spinning in his head and none of them wanted to quiet down.

He couldn't even focus on one. There were multiple voices in his head screaming at him, all of them wanting to be the loudest but all of them failing. It'd been like this ever since you made it clear that you were leaving.

Maybe some of this was his fault. No. Not maybe. This was his fault. He had become neglectful, and the edges he had became sharper and sharper. It seemed like he hurt you every time you got close.

Bi-Han being foolish and prideful thought it'd all go away. There was no need for deep talks, or breathers, or whatever else you managed to think of. He convinced himself it would all smooth over eventually. This was just a rough patch and it didn't seem to actually danger his relationship.

How wrong he was.

Time passed. Neglect built. Finally you two got into a huge argument and it seemed like this tipped the scales against him. You would be leaving.

He stood nearby but refused to look at you. Didn't matter though. His brain punished him anyway, making him relive the moment you slipped your ring off. It slipped off effortlessly, like it was always meant to come off. Like you two were always meant to fail.

Your stuff was gone, so he didn't understand why you were still here, but he didn't complain. You said something about grabbing a necklace, but he never saw you grab it and the last time he looked at you, you weren't wearing one.

Bi-Han had another problem besides his inability to look at you for an extended amount of time. His hands felt empty. He tried to pass time and fill that void by cleaning his mask with a hot rag, but it didn't work. It's not just that his hands were empty, it's that you weren't in them. It was weirdly funny when he thought about it. Bi-Han wasn't big on physical touch and whispering sweet nothings. He was capable of all the cutesy shit that was typical in relationships, he just didn't care for it.

But now? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around you and force you to stay. He wanted to whisper every sweet thought he had about you in your ear. He wanted to praise everything about you, and he didn't mean just your looks. He wanted to praise you about the stupidest things; your walk, how you pronounce certain words, your laugh, how you look when the sun hits you, everything. Anything to make you stay. But he didn't. He stayed silent and he assumed that silence bothered you based on your sigh.

“I guess this is it then” you spoke, and it made his heart clench in his chest as he realized this would probably be one of the last things he heard you say.

He made a small noise of acknowledgement in response.

“Am I to take your grunting as words?”.

“Goodbye” he forced himself to say, but the words came out through gritted teeth. He could hear your footsteps get closer until you were in front of him. Your soft hands touched his, only to slide his mask out his hands and onto the table. He couldn't help but look at you then, taking in and memorizing every feature you had. There were plenty of things you didn't like about yourself. You were only human after all. Bi-Han disagreed about all of it though. If there was one thing he was forced to look at until his final days, he'd choose you everytime. He was just really bad at showing it and he hated himself for it.

“Is… is there nothing else you want to say? Just 'goodbye’?”

“What else should I say?”. You nodded then and a small “ok” left your lips. His fingers started to itch the second you looked away, that emptiness making itself known again. He didn't have his mask in his hands anymore, so his fingers tapped against each other, wanting desperately to grab you.

You had only taken one step.

“Stay”.

He didn't mean to say it. He didn't even notice he said it until you turned to look at him.

“What?”

“Stay” he said more firmly. His hand grabbed your wrist as if that would trap you with him forever. The tapping stopped, finally content now that you were touching. “I want you to stay”.

“And if I don't want to?”

“I need you to stay”.

It went silent then and he wished he could read your mind. Your face gave nothing away but sorrow and as tough as he tried to act, he knew his face looked the same. “I want you…”. He meant to add something else, but what was there to add? He couldn't pinpoint what about you he wanted. He just wanted you. All of you. Good, bad, ugly. He wanted it.

“And how do you want me to be?” You said after a second. “Obedient? Obeying your will? Being at your side when it's convenient and behind you when it's not?”. He looked away, not able to take how your brows furrowed when speaking and his hand slipped from your wrist.

He felt your hand touch his cheek and move his face to look at you. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean into your touch, finding comfort in how familiar your hand felt against him. The world was incredibly cruel. It gave him the power to freeze everything but time.

“Do you want me to stay silent? To take what you give me and ask for nothing more? To never speak up? To just accept life for what it is?”.

His eyes scrunched together. Each word felt like a dagger being twisted inside him. Your voice narrated his memories and all he could see was how many times he took you for granted. If he could, he'd beat himself over the head and yell at himself to keep you close instead of doing what was natural and pushing you away.

“I want you Bi-Han”.

His eyes opened then, hoping maybe you changed your mind.

“But I want something different. And you… I'm not sure you're capable of change”. Your hand slipped from his face and he immediately grabbed your hand. He was delusional. He hoped the physical contact could somehow reignite the spark. Stupid and wishful thinking, but he hoped the Elder Gods were listening and would answer his prayers.

“I can change” he managed to get out. It was a lot quieter than his previous words, even if he meant for it to come out powerful and assertive. Something had to change your mind and convince you to stay. He'd bring all your stuff back by himself if he has to. He just didn't want you to start moving again.

You sighed and shook your head, “you don't change. This is just who you are and I can't take that from you”.

“Stay with me. Don't go”.

“I thought the Grandmaster would never beg or plead”.

“I do”.

Bi-Han was taught from a very early age that Grandmasters didn't negotiate. They never begged or pleaded or showed any signs of weakness. They ruled over their clan with perfection and always stood tall. Unmoving. There was no such thing as weakness.

But he was so incredibly weak when it came to you. Grandmasters didn't beg or plead but Bi-Han did, and he'd beg over and over for you to stay if it'd work.

That's the thing though. It wasn't working and he knew it.

He was far too late.

“I hope you know I loved you Bi-Han”

“Loved?”

“I love you”

“Then stay”

You smiled then. A smile that had absolutely no joy in it. Only mourning. Your hand slipped out of his and you reached up to wipe away the tears he didn't even know had fell. He wondered why you weren't crying. Whenever you fought recently, you always seemed to cry. Sometimes it'd be a few tears, other times you'd storm away and he'd hear you sob. Did he exhaust you this much? You had no more tears to spill? Did he really push you that far past your limits?

“I hope in our next life we're different. I hope we spend forever together”. Bi-Han wanted to argue with you. He wanted to shout at you and tell you that all of that could happen in this life, but he didn't. You made up your mind. It was clear. He didn't know what to say anymore. You loved him and he loved you so how did he mess it up this bad?

Your hand lingered until it finally left his face for the last time. You walked away, and this time he didn't stop you.

He watched you as you went, replaying your life together in his head and what he should've done differently.

I tried to pick the least threatening gif I saw and that was actually difficult. Where is your kindness sir? Also why is the indented shit spaced out so ugly in the beginning? Summary and word count not having one long line is gonna haunt me.

[sssammich]

collateral ch8

hello here's a surprise update from me as in i was surprised i updated

chapter 8 on ao3

samfic: collateral tag on tumblr

ok thx love u

--

By the mercy of some higher god or deity, Kara made it through the following week without absolutely failing Andrea's instructions. She responded to every text and phone call that came from Lena, but she did not initiate a single one.

Her hands itched to hold her phone, her fingers hovering over their text thread. She had so many thoughts throughout the day that she directly filtered into conversations with Lena that she hadn't realized how much of her life had revolved around her best friend. She brought up what food she wanted to eat that day, what research she was struggling to do at work, what social media posts and internet memes she wanted to immediately share upon learning about them, what writing ideas she wanted to delve into, what nonsense happened during her commute, what she'd felt on any given day. Her every day, distilled in snapshots of texts shared between them, each one a bid for attention.

What had been a bustling and overflowing thread of constant communication shrank bit by bit. If Lena noticed anything throughout the week, she hadn't said a word, hadn't brought up anything with her. She dreaded texts from Lena, wondering if the new notification that appeared on her screen would be the one that asked Is everything alright? Did something happen?

Are you mad at me?

Did I do something wrong?

Kara knew that it was only a matter of time.

—

She slumped down on the black velvet couch in Andrea's office with a huff. Andrea only looked up from her desk, her typing never once losing its speed on her computer.

Kara sat on that couch and stared out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked downtown National City. It was an unfamiliar view, one that overlooked a different part of town than what Kara was accustomed to. As the minutes ticked on and Andrea continued working, Kara could only compare the stark differences in her hangouts with Lena when she stopped by her best friend's office.

Lena would pause what she was doing, walk over to the couch, and greet Kara with a hug and a smile. Kara would bring her something to eat or a snack on her way from an interview or doing canvassing research. They would sit on the white leather sofa that overlooked National City with a view of the main city park amidst all the glass and steel buildings. They would spend as little as five minutes to hours on that couch depending on their schedules, focused on simply being present together.

So it was with a frown that she looked over her shoulder and glared at Andrea who remained steadfast in pretending she wasn't in the room. Until she eventually glanced Kara's way, but never once stopped what she was doing.

Glumly, this was why Kara thought that Lena was her favorite.

Ten long minutes passed by before Andrea's typing stopped and the faint roll of an office chair against hardwood floors could be heard. Kara didn't bother to look over her shoulder, instead waiting for Andrea to walk over to her.

When Andrea's frame shadowed over her, Kara finally turned her head to squint up at her friend slash fuck buddy slash current confidante.

"Do you make all of your visitors wait this long?"

Andrea simply raised a brow. "Do you have an appointment?"

Kara groaned and exhaled audibly, slumping even further into the sofa. Andrea leaned against the arm of the sofa, the fabric of her skirt grazing Kara's hand.

"I did what you told me," she said aloud.

"Be more specific."

"I only respond, I never initiate." When Andrea didn't say anything, Kara continued, her gaze returning to the view outside the window. "It's been hell."

Andrea laughed. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Not this."

"Really?" Andrea scoffed, giving Kara a pointed look. "Your smart brain didn't anticipate this?"

"I just…" she started, releasing a small huff. "Getting texts from her makes me antsy now because I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like one of these days, she's gonna confront me and say I've been a shitty friend and have been ignoring her."

"Well…"

"I know! You don't have to say it." She looked up at a pair of blue eyes scrutinizing her.

"So what do you want me to say?"

"God, I don't know. That I'm doing the right thing. That this will blow over and I'll be better for it in the long run. Literally anything would be nice right about now."

Andrea finally stood from her perched spot on the arm of the couch and took the free space beside Kara. She then rested her elbow on her thigh before turning to meet Kara's eyes. "You've dug a hole years in the making, querida. I don't think there's anything I can say that will help assuage your guilt enough to get through this. And frankly, I wouldn't want to do that anyway. Not really my style."

Kara's bottom lip jutted out into a petulant pout, but she didn't dare look at Andrea.

"What's the worst thing that can happen if you confessed?"

Kara looked aghast. Andrea simply rolled her eyes.

"Just answer the question."

"I lose her for good because she hates me, thinks I'm ruining her life. And then I proceed to ruin the best friendship I've ever had."

"So you're just, what? Masochistically edging yourself by losing her a little bit each time? You've been carrying this secret for so long, it's practically your identity. Doesn't that sound insane to you?"

Kara looked away. "It's pathetic."

"Very."

"So, what? I should just tell her? Hey, been in love with you the whole time. Sorry I was too chicken shit to not say anything until now, when you're happily married to a man with an accent and a full head of hair."

Andrea chuckled before granting Kara a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. "Well, do you even want to tell her?"

"I did, once. When she got back from a conference, we were gonna have our regular hang out. But then she came back with her 'old friend' Jack who ended up staying in town. Lost my nerve. Never got it back again."

"Well, not like you've done anything to get it back, in fairness."

"You have a really shitty way of making me feel better."

The other woman simply shrugged. "My therapist and I agree that consoling others isn't one of my strengths."

"You go to therapy?"

Andrea tilted her head. "I think the fact that that's what you got out of all of that shows you aren't paying attention."

Kara focused her eyes on her fingers picking at the knee of her slacks.

"Alright," Andrea began. "So what's the best case scenario?"

"What?"

"The best case scenario. You tell her and then what?"

Kara shut her eyes for a second, the images of her dreams and fantasies clear as day in her mind, many that have ran through her thoughts for years that they play like old tapes, well-worn and well-loved. When she opened her eyes, Andrea was looking at her intently. "She feels the same way I do. She wants to be with me. We get married. We live happily ever after. We keep the apartment in the city but then buy a house on the coast. Adopt three dogs."

"You can have that with anybody else, you know."

"Yeah, I know." She opened her eyes. "But I want it with her."

Andrea stared at her before taking a deep breath, an audible exhale before she rose to her feet with a shake of her head. Yeah, definitely pathetic.

—

She huffed in calculated breaths, sweat soaking her sports bra and tank top while she shadowboxed her reflection in the mirror in front of her. Her fists curled tightly as she jabbed an invisible opponent, avoiding equally invisible punches her way. Her feet danced in place as she exhaled her counting: one-two, one-two.

Despite the precision of her external movements, her mind was in deep chaos—thoughts warring with each other and anxieties flaring up as she valiantly tried to make sense of her feelings. She hated herself for letting her feelings and emotions for Lena go this far for this long. She punched the air harder at each of her regrets, the tension in her muscles as she contracted and expanded them. She could have nipped her feelings in the bud, cut her losses and moved on with someone else. She even thought about how maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world if she confessed, if things were truly out in the open. But she was also so deathly afraid of the look that Lena would give her if and when she found out. Kara simply was not ready to face that inevitability.

Pushing her body to failure, Kara dropped her arms to her sides and gasped for breath, her lungs and her muscles on fire at having exhausted herself to the limits. She caught sight of her reflection: her chest red and heaving, baby hairs plastered against her forehead, her body glistening with sweat.

Kara fell on one knee and then on all fours, her lungs burning as she tried to get her breathing under control. She plopped down onto the ground, turning at the last minute so she laid on her back and stared at the nondescript ceiling. She'd made a mess of things for herself, she knew, and if she didn't sort out herself soon, it was only going to get worse.

—

Kara missed Lena. After three weeks of the most restrained and tense conversations via texts that they have had in years, Kara broke. She realized that this whole charade had only made her antsy, jumpy, and altogether moody. This was one solution, but it wasn't the solution and she knew that she needed to rein everything back in and figure out a different way to get over her best friend.

So with shaking fingers and a heartbeat running a mile a minute, she opened the text thread with Lena and asked if Lena wanted burgers or sushi for their Friday lunch coming up the next day.

The fifteen minutes of waiting just about drove Kara crazy, but when she found the three dots appearing at the bottom of the screen, she could only hold her breath.

Lena: Surprise me

Kara: You got it! I'll order our usuals and even put in an order for Jess.

Lena: That's sweet, she'll appreciate that.

Kara: Alright, I'm gonna get some sleep now but I'll see you tomorrow!

Lena: Goodnight, Kara

Kara: Night

Kara carried the bags of takeout in hand and made her way with great ease to Lena's office before making herself at home. She knocked and peeked her head in with a small smile, holding out the bag for Lena to see. Lena who remained seated at her desk holding the phone by her ear, giving Kara a wide grin and pointing at the seating area.

Dutiful, Kara quietly made her way towards the familiar white leather sofa and slowly unpacked their lunches, careful of the parchment and paper bag from crinkling too much. She knew that the sound probably wouldn't have disturbed Lena, but Kara was nervous. She'd kept herself at bay from her best friend knowing she could never reveal her own issues to the very person it pertained to, but that had put her in such an uncomfortable place that she knew she had to do something different.

She'd just taken her burger out of her own bag when Lena approached.

"Hi, darling, so happy to see you." Kara smiled brightly even as guilt lurched inside.

"Hey," she said, beginning to stand, but Lena simply waved her off. "Got you your favorite."

Lena beamed as she sat beside Kara, a familiar close but not touching distance between them. Enough for Kara to feel the warmth emanating from Lena beside her. "Thank you. I would have taken the sushi, but with the morning I've had, I'm kind of glad that you got Big Belly today."

"Lucky thing, then," she said, her burger held up in mid-air as she watched her best friend unwrap her own burger, hands expertly holding the wrapper so as to avoid any of the mess dripping on her. When Lena returned her gaze, Kara smiled. "Bon appetit."

They quietly ate, remarking on their food and making small talk. Kara updated Lena of some projects she was working on and some gossip around her office, and Lena mentioned some initiatives L-Corp wanted to take on, updating her about Lillian and Lionel's upcoming trip overseas for vacation, and Jack's ongoing business deals.

"He's been going back and forth between here and London, courting backers for his company's launch. I think I've seen him a total of a week or so just this past month."

"Oh, I hadn't realized he'd been away so much."

"Yeah," Lena sighed, rubbing at her temples. "It's fine, though. I understand courting backers and investors all too well."

"Right. Well, that's cool. Sorry you've been missing him," she said, meaning it.

"Thank you, Kara. Like I said, I understand the hustle required to get investors. Even after inheriting an existing company, investors are a fickle, greedy bunch."

She laughed along as Lena steered the conversation to other topics, Kara getting the impression that Lena most likely hadn't wanted to talk about her husband. Eventually, their lunch hour neared its end and Kara began making her way towards the door when Lena placed a hand on her forearm—the touch as if burning her skin.

"I'm so glad we were able to make lunch happen," Lena said.

"Yeah, I—me too. I know I had to bail on the last couple ones." She ducked, not quite meeting her best friend's eyes.

"I had wondered what was going on."

Kara's lips tugged down into a frown, her brows scrunching in concern. "What do you mean?"

Lena bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I've missed you, Kara. I know our schedules can get hectic, so I wanted to give you your space these last few weeks. I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. That we're okay."

Kara's heart wanted to escape her chest, and she hoped that the hand still on her forearm couldn't detect the speed of her beating heart. She ached inside at putting Lena through this whole ordeal, now a charade she must perform just to keep up appearances.

"I'm sorry, Lena. I didn't mean to worry you. We're okay. More than."

"Promise?"

She nodded, using her free hand to gesture a cross over her heart before she gave Lena her best smile. "Cross my heart. I'm sorry that I've made you doubt that. I've just kinda been busy with work and some personal stuff."

"Personal stuff?"

"Yeah, but I'm dealing with it."

That response didn't seem adequate for Lena whose brows remained scrunched up. "Anything I can help with?"

Kara opted for some honesty, this time, and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. It's just something from my past I should've dealt with a long time ago. But thank you for offering. This is just…this is something I have to handle on my own. All I need from you is to keep being the best friend I know and love. Cool?"

Lena didn't say anything at first, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as if she wanted to say something more, though the relief in her eyes were apparent. Instead, she nodded her head and gave Kara a shy smile. "Alright. If you're sure."

"I am."

The smile on Lena's face was brighter and more assured, so Kara mirrored it as best as she could. It was the least she could do.

—

She'd agreed to go antiquing with Lena later that same weekend, a call from Lena inviting her on Sunday morning. The 'no' was on the tip of her tongue, but with how Friday had gone, she hadn't wanted to disappoint Lena or make her friend worry further. Naturally, Lena had noticed that she had become distant and even went so far as to consider owning up to blame she didn't deserve. Kara knew that she had fix that immediately because this was her problem to contend with.

So here she stood in another antique store, trailing after Lena whose eyes critically scanned the room for furniture items that she may have wanted to furnish the apartment she shared with her husband. It should be him there with Lena, but he'd been called to a meeting last minute that he apparently couldn't get out of.

Kara hadn't wanted to think of his loss as her gain, but she couldn't deny that she loved all of the one-on-one time that she and Lena spent together. She liked Jack, he was the best kind of guy that Kara would have chosen for Lena herself if her own foolish heart hadn't gotten in the way. So she knew that Lena would be well taken care of. But it made her giddy to spend the time with Lena that she hadn't been able to due to her own dumb decisions.

It did make her wonder though that he'd been absent more and more, no doubt trying to build a business from the ground up—a sacrifice that she understood he had to make to help ensure a future with Lena. Still, an itching worry scratched at the back of her mind that she couldn't shake off. She didn't even know what her worry was about or where it stemmed from, simply chalking up her anxieties at her own treacherous heart for having abandoned Lena over the passing weeks.

When Kara texted Andrea about what she was doing that Sunday after getting a brunch invite just after Lena asked her to hang out, she picked up the call from Andrea after the first ring.

"You really think this is a good idea?"

"She's my best friend. Lena was looking forward to going antiquing or whatever and Jack bailed because of some, I don't know, work stuff. I can't leave her hanging."

Kara could only imagine the eyeroll that she knew Andrea was giving her from the other end of the line.

"You know, for someone so cowardly in their risk-taking, you sure lack a sense of self-preservation."  Then Andrea hung up and left Kara staring at her phone.

"What do you think about this?" Lena's voice broke through her reverie from across a dining showroom. She was pointing at a rattan buffet sideboard beside her.

Kara scrunched her face and gave Lena two thumbs down. Lena simply laughed and shook her head before walking away, the sound and image of Lena's happiness lingering in Kara's eyes as she rushed to follow after her.

She found a low and wide bright orange sofa and plopped down onto it, her body practically melting as she laid on the comfortable cushions.

"Huh? Whaddaya think?" she asked, her head lolling against the sofa's back.

Lena rolled her eyes. "Kara, that's atrocious."

"Okay, so it looks like I fell into a massive vat of orange soda, but come lay on it. It's softer than it looks."

When her best friend didn't budge, Kara simply patted the seat beside her. "Come on. It's even in your price range." For good measure, she waggled her eyebrows as if to prove a point despite knowing that purchasing every single item in this store would barely make a dent in her best friend's fortunes.

Lena giggled then and slowly made her way to the empty spot beside Kara. She mirrored Kara, her head resting on the back and the two of them staring at one another amidst giggles.

"I think my eyes hurt even more when it's so up close."

Kara giggled and stared at Lena's eyes, the two of them sitting cozily beside one another.

"Just use this for all your naps. Your eyes don't have to be open for that."

"You're ridiculous. I'm not getting this couch."

"I am ridiculous, but I at least need you to accept the fact that it's very comfortable."

"Fine, I will concede that it's nice to sit on."

"It'll go great in that study of yours. Perfect for those naps you pretend to not take."

"Kara…this couch is ugly as sin."

"And sinfully comfortable."

The laughter that poured out of Lena was one of the many things she loved about the other woman, and she would do anything to be the cause of that, to keep making sure that Lena had joy and happiness in her life. Even if Kara couldn't express herself in the way that she wanted.

"I'm not getting this couch."

She hummed, getting up and extending a hand that Lena took with a gentle smile. "The day is young, Lena Luthor."

They perused the rest of the store and spent another forty-five minutes trying out different couches and chairs, but in the end, the ugly bright orange couch won out. With a triumphant smile, she beamed when Lena relented and told the employee that she'd be taking the abysmal couch before filling out delivery information.

When they walked out, Lena was still shaking her head even as Kara laughed and laughed.

"Oh, don't be so smug."

"I can and I will. You just bought the ugliest couch in there."

Lena gasped and pinched Kara's side, but Kara was more than happy to accept her punishment if it meant that she could see Lena happy and carefree like this. No matter what emotions spurred inside of her, she knew she couldn't give up seeing Lena at her happiest.

—

When they got back into the city, they stopped by Noonan's for a quick coffee pickup, the two of them sitting outside on the patio. After they got situated in their seats and passively watched the people passing by, Lena invited her to the apartment, but Kara simply declined.

"Oh? Hot date?" Lena asked.

"Uh, definitely not. It's just Andrea. We're, uh, hanging out later."

Lena donned a contemplative frown. "Kara, forgive me for prying, but are you sure that you two aren't, you know, dating?"

She scoffed. "No, no. We're definitely not dating."

"I just feel like you've been spending an awful lot of time with her. Which is great, Andrea is a friend, but I'll understand if that's why you haven't been around as much. You know you can tell me anything." Lena leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"We hook up sometimes," she mumbled, the words coming out of their own volition.

"Oh."

"Yeah, is that—sorry, is that weird? I know she's your friend and there's some vague history she never expanded on back in the day…"

"That's not weird, Kara. Whatever youthful experimentations she and I had are long behind us."

"Right."

"Since when?" Lena asked, her fingers tapping the side of her cup.

Kara made a face. "Uh, the wedding."

"The wedding. My wedding? You two had sex at my wedding?"

"Um, kinda?"

Lena offered her a smile, but Kara noticed how tight-lipped it appeared. "And you two—since then?"

She nodded after sipping her coffee just to wet the dryness of her mouth.

"That's been months, Kara."

She scratched the side of her head. "Yeah, it just kinda happened."

With pursed lips, Lena studied her for a second before taking a sip of her own coffee, her fingers never once stopping against the side of her cup. "I didn't think you were one for casual hookups like that."

"I'm not. But…" What could Kara say here without revealing her hand, without confessing her feelings that she'd only done it to fill the void of what that wedding had done to her heart, to her psyche. That she sought the solace of a woman who knew her innermost secret and flayed it open on display and offered her a distraction. That she made a woman cum with the strength and skill of her hands and tongue and wished it had been the woman sitting in front of her now instead.

She trailed off and Lena chuckled, erroneously filling in Kara's silence with her own assumptions. "I get it, Kara. It's fine. You two are very attractive and very single people. It's understandable."

"You think I'm attractive?"

Lena gave her a playful glare. "Don't push your luck. She's clearly the better looking of the two of you."

"What?! You're ranking me second behind that meanie?"

"Did you just call her a…meanie?"

"Yeah, she's kind of a bully, actually. She teases me a lot." Teases me about you, she thought. "Calls me Pulitzer and stuff. She's actually a brat. But the sex is good, at least."

Lena observed her for a second before taking another sip of her drink. "At least."

Just then, her phone chimed again.

"Sorry, Lena. I gotta get going. She wants to go to this swanky bar downtown and I should probably get ready."

Despite how the last few weeks had gone between them with Kara never initiating their conversations, it was she who initiated the hug between them, her arms wrapping around Lena's waist as Lena's arms locked around her neck.

"I'll talk to you soon?" she asked when they parted, Lena's hands sliding down her arms and giving her biceps a gentle squeeze.

Lena nodded. "Of course."

She walked away and offered her best friend the most genuine smile as they parted by their table. She brought the phone to her ear when the phone chimed a text from Andrea.

"You're such a freakin' bitch," she muttered on the phone only to hear Andrea's amused laughter on the other end of the line.

Consumed in her phone call with Andrea, she hadn't seen Lena's scrutinizing gaze linger on her from where she sat.

[rainbowdrop]

Kind of- of part three of this ramble, now focusing on the after whatever happened that make every batfam member realizes about JJ, from Tim pov.

Tw: I haven't write like this in like 4-6 years

Part one here (Dick, Jason, Barbara and Bruce)

Part two here (Alfred, Steph, Cass, Damián and Duke)

Tim could see that something change, he didn't know what, but every time a member of the family looked at him, he kind of saw one of two reactions, the first ones looked at him as if they didn't know Tim, they acted more carefully and closed off as if they didn't know how to approach him, wich kind of break him, because after everything he was finally building or rebuilding the connections he had with his family, Dick had finally kind of explaining his actions of giving Robin to Damian and they were talking now and even if it wasn't as when they were the only two with batman, it was something, they were connecting again. With Jason it was strange, but after the hole replacement thing was explained over and Jason was kind of better with Bruce, Jason even sometimes started acting as a big brother to him, and some days Tim would come to Jason safe house because he didn't want to be feel alone in his empty apartment and Jason would let him, there was even some strange days where Jason would even read out loud some of his books to him. And even with Damian was getting better, sure, they still bicker around or even fight from time to time, but they could work together as a team, as a duo, without to much problem, and most of the arguments were mere jokes and teasing on most days. And the worst of all it's that it wasn't only them- it was also Cass it was Steph it was even Duke-! And he didn't know what had happenend, what did he even did to cause that recation- his mind was running trought every reason as to why- because it has just been two days but he couldn't take it anymore, the sad even scared faces when Tim locked eyes with any of them, how they seemed to treat him as something fragile who could broke, they almost bench him- without telling him a reason-!

And then there was the other reaction... Barbara, Bruce and even Alfred, even if they were the most stoic of them all, or I'm the case of Barbara just knowing her emotions just over the comms... he could read them, and they looked guilty... at him- as if they knew the reason of why the others were acting strange- but they also wouldn't tell him. Not now at least... It didn't seem like it would result to anything of he asked.

Within the third day he was itching, he was stressed, he couldn't wait until one of them told him- he already make up a list of the possibilities of the why's of this reaction, he recalled all his recent past patrols and outside missions with the Young Justice and try to recall a mistake or something he said or maybe some action he did wrong, he even checked the reports he and the others made about it, but there wasn't anything on any of them, then maybe it was something on his civil life, since it seemed to be only the Bats that acted different. But again even recalling all of that with his paranoid brained he didn't come with anything that would cause that reaction of ALL of them that way... So when he wasn't able to sleep on the third day in his safe house (in patrol he almost went to follow Jason to his safe house... But he remember just the same moment that he couldn't and something in him ache when he forced himself to turned around to his own apartment) he decided to finally investigate for real, he went to his computer and connected it to the Batcomputer system, because at this moment if no one would tell him anything, then he wouldn't care about Babs or Bruce founding out.

It didn't took to much, it really was easy to found out what they saw... the files, since for more easy access the more recent cases where shown first and when he checked all the ones he was aware of- he fall upon one... There in between all the others it was a name file that just by the sight of it bring all the old pain all over his body as if it was the first time just for the name of it... All the dots connect themselves, he didn't know if some of the people that knew told the others or if they found out by accident and then tell the rest... He just knew that this was the reason...

He didn't part his view from the screen, he didn't knew how long he just stare at it... As his mind recall everything that was written on it, and old memory, after everything, he sometimes just couldn't stop himself from reading everything over and over again, because sometimes it feelt so unreal, to far away to be him the one to suffer that, but each time he saw the tapes, each time he read Bruce forcefully stoic writing of what happened, read the not so stoic written part of Batgirl, and how even trought it was just words he could hear her cries as she write the report... He didn't open the folder as he knew by memory all the conten... And between all the memories... He didn't realize when his hands started to twitch, didn't notice the soft giggles than later became a strong but twisted laught, didn't notice as his cheeks ache from smiling for who knows how long, he didn't even feelt the wet but hot tears as they went down his face...

[meyerlansky]

for wip title meme - Stalag shit pretty pls!

tagging @sluttyhenley and @redbelles since you guys asked about it to AND ALSO

bell you're getting called OUT 😈

sooo this is actually the first thing i started writing for mota and it was an unclog-the-pipe kind of idea and is self-indulgent with regards to wanting more bucky whump. i may actually never post it in totality for... a couple reasons, but i actually did a fuckton of research into how the stalags were run and kriegie culture inside of them, so it was a good exercise on a lot of levels even if it never sees the light of day. because it's sort of backburnered, that means i feel more comfortable posting BIG CHUNKS OF IT 🎉 but uh, that said, this one IS going under a cut because in addition to there being a lot of it, it's. dark.

cw noncon and psychological torture, you can probably guess where this is headed. the structure i settled into with this one is gale POV for the first part, wherein Something Is Wrong With Bucky:

Bucky shrugs, a quick, smooth shuffle of his shoulders that’s as big a lie as what’s coming out of his mouth. “Krauts get a little rough sometimes. Nothing anyone else didn't get.”

“They didn't do anything to me,” Gale says, every word feeling heavier than the last, pulling him down. “Just asked me some questions.”

Two things happen then. Something in Bucky’s face twitches, a flinch stealing over it so quick Gale barely catches it. But his shoulders drop, just a bit, some tension leaving him. Gale for the life of him can’t make sense of it.

“‘Course not, Buck,” Bucky says, light, easy, like Gale doesn't have a pit the size of the Atlantic opening up in his gut, cold flooding in. “Who'd wanna damage that pretty face of yours?”

From any of the boys, there might be some bitterness in it—it’s not like Gale doesn't know some of the goons cut him a break, ’cause of rank or coloring or whatever else. From John there’s just… relief. It feels wrong. The pit yawns wider, and the water gets higher. “Roughed yours up, though,” he says, the words feeling distant as he remembers the black eye John was sporting, that first day. The way John had grabbed his chin, tilted his head around, looking for something. Something like the beating he got, maybe.

That's what Gale had thought at the time. Now he’s not so sure that’s where it ended.

Bucky’s eyes go dark again, as distant and near-drowned as Gale feels, so he claws his way back. Tries, anyway. “Yeah, well,” John mutters, “better me than you.”

and what's wrong is not only was bucky sexually assaulted post-interrogation, but the guards told him they did the same to gale when he passed through the dulag, and he spends months beating himself up about not being there and being able to take it instead of gale, until he says something about it and gale's like ??? and bucky realizes it WAS instead but now gale KNOWS. second part's bucky's POV of the assault, so it's not chronological, and maybe it doesn't need to be shown/written at all but i wanted to because i like whump.

He’s got a headache the size of Texas, blood—his own, his own, not some kid in a cart’s, they let him wipe that off, so what's left is just his own, thank Christ—itching as it dries behind his ear, and a pit in his chest every time he thinks about Bremen and London and Russelheim and the way the woods smelled when he was running through them, clean and green and endless—

The door slams open, and Bucky gets two seconds to berate himself for jumping, for being so in his own head he didn't hear them coming, before one of the goons grabs his arm and yanks him up, spinning him to face the wall. Turns his head to the window on instinct, but the light spilling in catches him off guard and sends a new wave of pain spiking through his skull.

“Heya, fellas. Couldn't get enough, huh?” He shoots over his shoulder, hands up but grinning like nothing’s wrong, like he’s back at Thorpe Abbotts joking with the boys.

(Later on, he’ll wonder if that was what did it. If he’d just kept his eyes forward, his mouth shut, if they’d have—)

and the third part's gale POV again, after their little yard spat and is........ kind of recovery? inasmuch as one is capable of recovering while still stuck in a POW camp and going crazy with fear because no one takes your warnings about needing to get the fuck out seriously, and also your best friend punching you in the face is the most normal you've felt in almost a year:

“I’m sorry.”

The noise that comes out of Bucky’s bunk is barely human, a snarl more suited to Meatball, or the Kraut’s dogs. “You’re sorry,” Bucky snarls. “You are a real piece of work, Buck.”

He rolls over, kicks his legs out of the bunk, boots on, to glare up at Gale. “Saint Cleven,” he sneers, and he’s just pissed and it's nothing Gale hasn't heard before, but it still stings a bit. “I pick a fight and you’re the one who's sorry.” His eye’s already swelling up, purpling a bit at the edge. Again. Gale’s stomach roils looking at it. “It’s not bad enough that’s the first time you’ve treated me like normal—”

“Hittin’ you ain’t normal,” he bites out, before he can stop himself. He scrubs his hand over his eyes, just for a second, and when he looks back John's anger has dimmed a bit, banked coals instead of the inferno.

“It’s better than whatever the hell you’ve been doing the last few weeks.”

How’s that?” Gale says, sharper than he means to. Whatever he means, there’s nothing better in hurting Bucky. Not when he’s already had plenty more than his fair share.

“You won't touch me, Buck!” It’s hissed through John’s teeth but it hits him with all the force of a baseball bat to the face. It sits between them for a moment, heavy.

“That's not true,” he mutters, but there’s no strength in it, and John barely dignifies it with a scoff.

He tries again. “I didn't think you’d want…” He trails off, feeling stupid even as the words come out of his mouth. Bucky can't go ten minutes without slinging his arm around a pal’s neck, a clap on a shoulder, an elbow in someone’s side to get their attention. He couldn't, anyway. Before all this

“The hell d’you know about what I want,” Bucky snaps, like he doesn't wear every thought on his face clear as day. “I'm damaged goods, I get it, but I’m not some china doll—”

“You’re not damaged goods,” Gale shouts, the words bursting out of him like water from a burst pipe and loud enough to make John flinch back, shock all over his face.

sooo yeah! that's stalag shit! if i do ever get it done, i think it'll need some revisiting on the characterization, but honestly probably not that much. it is however the only purely-clegan wip i have, which means it would probably do better than alllllllll my other stuff even WITH the caveat that it's dark content. which is very funny to me in a bitter sort of way.

[tupperwaretub]

A male reader who's super cautious around people because their queer identity has been an issue in the past, and so Negan being so explicit and flirty all the time just relentlessly getting on their nerves, and Negan just find it's so funny until he starts to realize how genuine the annoyance is, and just being like. Dude why would you EVER care about what other people think when we all know these people are horrible, and they're wrong about EVERYTHING Else, so they're wrong about you. And then they kiss 😈 (is this too cringe am i cringe bro)

(A/n): TYSMMM for the request, this is so cute!! ALSO PLEASE KEEP SENDING REQUESTS ANYONE!! I'll write almost anything as long as it's not noncon or fetish. If you're unsure just look at my character list I'll link a list of what i will + wont write for

(Warnings): snarky Negan being himself, harsh language (it's negan duh)

(Summary): Before Negan arrived it was really easy to hide your sexuality, but when he went snooping and found old photos with your ex boyfriend he obviously couldn't keep his mouth shut but it definitely went better than you can expected.

....

You hid your sexuality even before you got to Alexandria but getting to Alexandria didn't help, the way the older folk looked at Aaron and Eric made you want to curl up and wither away. So you hid yourself, you hid your family pictures, you hid your pictures of friends at pride events and your ex boyfriend in fear of them finding out and shunning you. In your dream world you'd have your family pictures around your house in Alexandria, being able to see the faces of loved ones you'd lost and reminisce on a time before the outbreak but sacrifices have to be made in the new world.

When Negan started showing up you'd only just managed to settle in Alexandria, a lot of those who may of judged you had died and your group from before such as Rick pretty much ran the show around Alexandria now. You weren't at the line up and you hadn't seen Negan kill Abraham or Glenn, you didn't know Abraham well but he seemed nice enough although you never got too close due to an itching bad feeling he was homophobic. Glenn on the other hand you got on with well, being around the same age you both instinctively became close and you'd even considered telling him you were gay but in the end you decided not to, you had known how bad he was at keeping secrets since Hershel's farm when he told Dale about Loris pregnancy and the Hershel families secret zombie collection in the Barn. You feel slightly guilty for not telling him now he's gone though, he would've always had your back.

Less than a week later Negan came banging on the gate, you were counting ammunition and had noticed missing guns but decided it would be best to stay quiet right now. He sends his men to strip peoples houses of mattresses and items he decided he wanted, you're suddenly struck with a horrid feeling of nausea knowing your photos are hidden under your mattress so you run off back to the armory to pretend to check stock.

Around your fourth time checking the stock of guns and ammo Negan bursts in, "Well hey there... Y/n?" You nod. "I believe these are yours sweetheart." He hands you your photos and you swallow hard, you can't tell if you're about to cry or scream. "Don't worry i won't tell a soul, I'm not as bad as prick makes me out to be I wouldn't out someone. Well, assuming you're not out by the way all these photos were hidden under your mattress." You hide the photos in your back pocket and shrug. "I had my men leave your mattress there and maybe we could... You know, in return for my selflessness." He gets close to your face and smirks but backe off when his men enter and you hand them the lists of stock.

The next few time's Negan visits he flirts with you relentlessly, subtle to obvious.

When you saw him walking through the gates this time you sighed knowing it'd just be another day of annoyance, he walks straight up to you and smirks, "hey handsome..." You glare at him.

"Lighten up hon' you don't like a man like me being interested in you?" He laughs to himself and you just look away, almost seething with anger but holding back for Rick's sake. Negan sees your anger and his face shows how hard realisation hit him that you were genuinely annoyed with him and not just playing hard to get.

"Look, you don't have to act all macho to make people think you're not gay. Plus, i don't understand why you're even bothered about people knowing! It's the end of the damn world, laws don't exist anymore if you didn't realise, so if someone makes your life hard over your sexuality do what i do, bash some skulls in." Your eyes soften, while he doesn't exactly have a way with words you do understand his point. "I'm not like you." You respond to him with an ounce of bitterness but he smiles, "no you're not, but you get what I'm gettin' at." His hand brushes yours and you finally look up at him and your eyes lock. "Yeah... Yeah i guess you're right." You mutter and he smiles, his face gets a bit closer to yours. "Loosen up and have a bit of fun doll."

Your lips meet, at first you're unsure and think about pushing him away but his words ring in your head "loosen up and have a little fun" So you pull him closer and the pair of you share a passionate kiss.

Wherever this is going to go, you're sure it'll upset people but you've decided that if you're going to live in a world where you could die any day you'd rather die happy than moping and hiding yourself from others.

..............

(A/n): I hope you liked it! I loved the request, sorry it took so long I've got ridiculous amounts of work to get done so squeezed this in as much as possible!

[sharks-n-bones]

I'M OFF WORK!! YA KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS???

Guess what time it is? 👀

THAT'S RIGHT BABY IT'S BRUCE TIME LET'S GET IT

Bruce, obviously, realized the world was flooding pretty quickly. He has a restaurant right on the beach! Of course he'd notice!

At first, they thought it was just tide coming in a bit more than normal. It happened sometimes, though usually it was because of the moon being a bit closer to the planet, but whatever. Nothing unusual

But then the tide didn't go out nearly as much as it should've, and the next time it came in it rose even further. After a few days, Bruce finally realized something was wrong. The tide was gonna reach the restaurant within a few days, at this point!

The other Vacationers seemed to notice too, as the next day, everyone was building boats so they could head to the mainland. With the help of Brandy and a bunch of other Vacationers, Bruce made a restaurant-style boat

The lower decks had rooms for him, his kids and Brandy and the top deck was set up to be a restaurant. It was built Vacationer size with plenty of amenities troll size as well, for himself and any other trolls who visit his new sea restaurant

Bruce's original thought was to head to the mainland, see if they could rebuild there and build a dock for his restaurant, but the flood was taking over the mainland as well. The beach was just gone, the water reached the trees and was creeping higher

Then the storms came. Every other day, storms ravaged the remaining land and the rising sea alike, and Bruce and Brandy had to steer their ship away from the land and further out to sea to escape them

It was hard to tell the kids that the world was flooding, that they had to stay on the open sea’s now or at least until the water stopped rising

When the water stopped rising though… there weren't anymore island's big enough to be sustainable long-term

So after stopping at a couple more islands for wood, fruits and vegetables, they built another layer above the restaurant and made a small farm. They grew wheat, fruits, veggies, potatoes, corn, whatever they could

They learned through trial and error how to make flour and which plants had medicinal uses. They weren't experts by any means, but they were learning

Whenever they made an island stop, Bruce and Brandy made time to have fun with the kids on the beaches. They'd swim and surf and enjoy the water whenever they weren't working or gathering more resources for the ship

Despite everything, the water just felt better and better. It felt rejuvenating, refreshing, especially after a long day of work. They didn't get as many customers as they used to, but still many ships would stop to try out their restaurant

Bruce honestly thought his hair was going to go downhill, but it looked better than ever! It was nice! He hardly had to do anything to maintain it anymore, it was almost weird. He still did his usual hair routine though, when he could. Resources were limited nowadays, after all

A few months pass since the water stopped rising, and Bruce was starting to get the hang of things. Word spread about his restaurant on the sea, and he and Brandy would get customers more often than not

There were some odd things happening, though… Bruce didn't know what to think of it. He didn't know if he was hallucinating or if the skin between his fingers had somehow gotten… longer… it was something he'd noticed after washing his hands before cooking, one day, but he assumed it was just his mind playing tricks on him

There also seemed to be a small rash going around, though for some reason it only affected the sides of the neck? He'd gotten it, Brandy had gotten it, as have his kids and some coworkers. Their homemade itch relief ointment helped, but the soreness remained

Another kind of strange thing that Bruce has noticed is a new genre of Trolls visiting the restaurant. Sea shanty trolls, they said they were. Their music was so unique, but it sounded nice and sounded fitting for the world being flooded. Bruce would find himself humming their songs as he worked

They had set anchor at another island for supplies, and a few other ships full of trolls, vacationers, and a couple bergens had stopped by to try out their restaurant on the sea. Even a few techno trolls came out of the water to try it out! It was busy, for once, and Bruce was going around taking orders as usual

He paused when he passed a table of mixed trolls, hearing a techno troll mentioning something about how the flood started. His ears perked and he walked over. He asked how they were enjoying their food, before easing himself into the conversation and asking what the techno troll was saying about the flood

The neon troll's voice hushed to just above a whisper. He told of a legend among techno trolls, of an ancient species of troll known as sirens. He told of their beauty, of their strength, of their voices so powerful they could hypnotize people

He told of their control over water, how they had the bottom halves and colorings of ocean creatures and how they could make themselves look like land trolls, legs and all

He told of how he believes the elder techno trolls made a huge mistake. How centuries ago, the techno trolls used to live alongside sirens. He told of how they used to live peacefully alongside each other, of how the sirens would protect then from the big fish in the sea and how the techno’s accepted them as their own

Then, he told of how the ancient elders feared the sirens power and their abilities. The elders feared what would happen if the sirens suddenly turned on them. He told of how the elders discovered an old and powerful magic

He told how the elders lied to the sirens, saying there was a giant eel in a large cave system that had been lurking at the edges of their village, possibly waiting to strike. He told of how the sirens, wanting to protect their friends, ventured into the cave to fell this great and terrible beast, and he told of how the elders followed them in secret and sealed them inside with that old and powerful magic they had found

Bruce was horrified by this story, but it didn't end there. The techno troll then told that when the world began to flood, the current elders ventured to the cave and found it in shambles, completely broken apart and collapsed. The sirens had broken free, and the elders worried that they wanted revenge

Bruce paled. He slumped into the empty seat he'd been standing next to. The techno troll continued, saying how there was something different in the water now. Some ancient and powerful magic

He mentioned how he'd noticed changes in land trolls and vacationers who'd spent a lot of time in the water. How he'd noticed the spaces between fingers becoming webbed, how rashes appeared on the sides of the neck, how their voices were becoming stronger

Bruce paled further, thinking of the rash on his neck, on Brandy's, on his kids- he looked at his hands, at the spaces between his fingers, at how the webbing really did stretch higher than before. He wasn't hallucinating

The techno troll went on, saying how his theory is that the siren elders must've pumped this ancient magic into the water to make land species more accustomed to ocean life. As a courtesy or as a warning, he didn't know

Bruce let out a shaky breath. He asked the techno if he had any idea what the sirens were planning. The techno shook his head. Warned him to just be careful. Told him not to fear the physical changes, as they'd help them survive in the ocean

Bruce nodded and got up, attempting to go back to work as usual, but how could he after all he'd heard? He handed the orders off to a coworker and rushed off to tell Brandy of what he'd just learned

[paintedkinzy-88]

Im sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I love your COI AU. I love the leo angst in it and the Dragon. I have always loved dragons and this scratches a itch I didn't know I had 😆 I was reading back through the asks and saw where you weren't sure about Leos hoard, and then I saw an ask about how he used to talk with Donnie about getting wings. They would talk about shows like Rio and Gaurdians of Gahool. So maybe his hoard can be birds. Just imagine he has all these bird stuffies and figures because he loves movies with flying because he wants to fly, but his family just assumes he just likes birds. Donnie, of course, knows about the dreams, but leo just always plays it off, so it never clicks for Donnie that the bird hoard is another hint at his need to fly. When his brothers find out the birds make so much more sense to them and the obvious obsession just hits them hard because they never noticed. Just a random thought, lol. Sorry that was really long.

Never a bother to get an ask! I love reading everyone’s thoughts!! I’m glad you enjoy it! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Ahhhh I really had to think about this for a while, feel how it would fit in the story, and the more I think about it, the more I actually really like that idea, dang it! I hadn’t actually planned on adding hoards, but you guys make it too fun XD

I’m still debating if it’s ooc at all for him... and if I care lmao. So excuse me as I go on a whole ass ramble once again, to get my new thoughts in order, and maybe see if anyone likes it lmaooo.

Everyone knows that Leo’s liked birds since he was a little dragonet, specifically because of what you mentioned: movies! Rio, The Aviators, even Angry Birds, he loved them all! But at the end of the day, Guardians of Ga’Hoole is what started everything. With scenes like this, as a kid who never really thought about what it was LIKE to fly beside Raph and Mikey? That little tot was immediately fascinated.

However, he also really liked Happy Feet before that, for the exact opposite reason: the swimming (Though the music was a bonus too). He was familiar with that, and he was good at it too, so seeing these lil penguins swimming in an ocean instead of the little pool Splinter was able to get for them was HUGE.

So when birds became such an important thing that it triggered his hoarding instincts, why would anyone assume anything was wrong? Obviously that’s where his questions about flight came from! Birds birds birds.

Bird toys, bird figurines, bird pokemon cards, pictures, movies, plushies, books, he was collecting it all!

It wasn’t until he got to see HTTYD or Avatar, (both a little after he finally accepted flying wasn’t an option for him and obsessing over it wasn’t helping), that he realized his hoard wasn’t just limited to birds. Dragons (ACTUAL dragons, not drakes or serpents…), bats, insects, frikkin flying squirrels — suddenly he was aching to get items revolving around those too.

But if he let himself hoard stuff like that all willy nilly, his family would certainly piece it together, wouldn’t they??

He’s able to let a few items fly (pun intended), like a plush dragon here and there because “it looks like Mikey,” a cool pinned butterfly because it’s “blue, like me,” a bat diagram because “there’s no medical poster for dragon wings, we need that in the medbay, obviously!” Anything he can come up with an excuse for.

But anything else? Anything that might raise too many eyebrows? Like that dragon onesie or that giant bat Halloween decor or the whole WoF comic book series??? Either resist the temptation, or shove it under his bed.

Meanwhile, he absolutely gets teased for being “SO into birds” as a dragonet, it became his hoard. But that’s fine, they tease each other a lot, it’s not as if all of his family doesn’t constantly bring him more bird stuff as gifts lmao.

[myg-butterfly]

Hii! Can I make a request about a fluff moment in a relationship with Namjoon? Whatever you want it's okay, just something soft/cute please :)

close to you (drabble)

namjoon x reader

sypnosis: you're supposed to finish reading this novel – instead, namjoon reads you like a book

(newly-ish) established relationship, non-idol au, this is a bit rushed, i wrote it in one go while i was running on mcdonald's ice coffee, this is FLUFF!!!! FLUFFY ! SOFT GENTLE GIANT JOON !

main masterlist

°. —・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

you and namjoon were sitting in comfortable silence in his room, each of you immersed in your own thing – and by each of you, that means mostly just namjoon.

you were supposed to be reading a book while namjoon types away at his computer, when you suddenly felt this need to go and cuddle up to him.

your relationship was relatively new, only about a month, and you were still growing comfortable with each other; learning what you're open to receiving and giving.

this was one of those moments where you didn't know what was considered "too soon" or "too clingy", especially with someone like namjoon;

he's a gentleman, the kindest of the kindest, so for the most part, he's been letting you set the pace, him rarely initiating anything without coaxing it out of you first.

maybe it was how good he looked, all the damn time, but especially when he concentrated. or maybe it was the way you could see his chest softly rising and falling, making you want to snuggle into it. maybe it was just how much you liked him, you weren't sure, the only thing you were sure of was the itching in your legs to get up and straddle him so he could hold you in the way you were daydreaming of.

you were so deep into your mental debate that you hadn't noticed you were staring, but namjoon had. it wasn't until he called your name that you snapped out of it, heat rising in your cheeks as you looked away, embarrassed from being caught.

"you okay there, darling?" he moved away from his computer for a moment so he could look at you better and you just stiffly nodded as an answer.

"you sure?"

"mhm. yup. yes."

"okay-"

"wait. i-"

you interrupted namjoon as he was about to move back to the computer, but you were having a hard time getting the words to leave your throat.

"hmph. uh- can we- can i- um- sorry. uh, n-nevermind."

namjoon grew concerned at your rambling, moving to get up and walk towards you until he was able to kneel down in front of you.

"baby? what's wrong-"

"sorry, i just- can we try something?"

you fumbled with your fingers a little and finally looked up to meet namjoon's stare.

his eyes were soft and curious, and you could swear you fell in love with him all over again in that moment.

"yeah, of course."

nervously, you stood; namjoon following your lead.

why were you so nervous? this was your boyfriend for goodness sake. you're literally dating this man.

deciding to just go for it, you shuffle forward until you're hugging namjoon with your hands around his neck.

this catches him off guard for a second, before he wraps his arms around your waist.

when you feel his grip on you, you hop and wrap both of your legs around his torso so he's carrying you.

namjoon just makes a "hm?" sound as he adjusts his hold on you to make sure you don't slip.

"can we go sit in your chair?"

your softly asked question causes a lightbulb to flicker on over namjoon's head, finally starting to realize what you wanted.

"okay."

he makes his way back to the chair by his computer, and sits down slowly to make sure you can position yourself comfortably.

as you both settle down, a happy sigh leaves your lips, entirely pleased with how you're sitting on his lap and your head buried in his chest just like you had been wanting since you got to his place.

"is this what you wanted?" namjoon's voice is light and affectionate and it only makes you nuzzle further into him as you nod.

he chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair before speaking again.

"you know, you don't have to ask for these kinds of things."

this makes you lift your head up to look at him, happy to find his eyes filled with genuineness.

"i just don't want to make you uncomfortable or bother you or cross a line you know?"

"actually, i don't know. i don't know how you could think that having me hold you would garner a negative reaction from me at all. having you in my arms like this … it's easily one of my favorite things in the world. its not like you could ever bother me anyways."

he's cupping your face now, and you know he can feel your face growing hot from how flustered his words were making you.

"you don't think i'm too, i don't know, clingy?"

he holds your face tighter now.

"no, not really. and even if you are clingy, it honestly makes me happy. i'll say it as many times as you want me to; i love having you close to me."

your smile grew at his response, and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

once he pulled back, you rested your head on his chest again, feeling like you were on a cloud, a namjoon shaped cloud even. he filled all of your senses, his scent strong and addicting, his arm around your waist keeping you close to him, the clicking of the mouse in front of him, the soft light of the computer illuminating his face perfectly.

this is how namjoon appears in your life, you think.

a gentle glow to greet you where you go, enough to light up your surroundings but not to blind you;

no matter how hard it could be to make your want for these kinds of things known to him, he always understood.

[erikahenningsen]

🎲🎲🎲 35 Cadina

13. A kiss on the chest

14. A kiss to the stomach

35. A kiss against a wall

A/N: Rated E

Regina is sitting on the couch reading a book when Cady gets home.

"Hey," Cady calls as she hangs up her coat and drops her bag by the door. She doesn't get a response, so she raises her voice a little and says, "I'm home."

No reaction. Cady feels her shoulders tense when she realizes Regina is, in fact, ignoring her on purpose.

"Regina." Cady walks over and stands in front of her, hands on her hips. "You can't seriously be pissed at me right now."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," Regina says coolly, turning a page in her book.

Cady rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. I didn't want you distracting my class."

"It's not my fault that I'm the hottest thing your little math nerds have seen since you." Regina finally puts the book down.

Cady can't deny that Regina does look hot today, and especially so. Cady has always been particularly affected by Regina with her hair up—it draws attention to her cheekbones and the freckle on her cheek, the one Cady wants to kiss every time she looks at it.

"They're here to learn differential equations. They're not paying tuition to look at you," Cady says.

Regina gives her an incredulous look. "You think they should get this for free?"

Cady's fingers itch to pick up a couch cushion and whack Regina with it. "You can't come into my class unannounced and laugh when someone gets an answer wrong," she says firmly, the way she would tell her cat not to scratch the carpet.

Regina stands up, glaring down at Cady in a way that was once intimidating. "You can't tell me what to do."

"You know what? Fine. I won't ever tell you what to do again," Cady says, trailing her eyes down Regina's body in a way that she hopes conveys her threat.

Then she turns and starts to walk away, craving a hot shower and a fifteen-minute reprieve from Regina.

"Hang on a second," Regina says haltingly.

Cady takes a moment before turning around so Regina doesn't see the little grin she can't suppress. She knows that tone of voice.

"What?" Cady says, eyes innocently widened.

"Sorry," Regina says, so quietly Cady might have missed it otherwise.

"For what?"

A somewhat irritated expression passes over Regina's face, like it always does at the beginning of this game.

"For distracting your class," Regina grits out.

"You won't do it again?" Cady asks.

A nod.

"Good," Cady says, with a smile. She looks at her fingernails for a moment, like she's entirely unbothered by this entire exchange—not like her heartbeat has started picking up speed, a warm flush settling over her body. "And you'll do what I ask?"

Another nod. Then, after a moment, a quiet, "Yes."

Cady looks back up at Regina, takes in the way her breathing has grown more ragged, her cheeks a little red. She moves towards Regina, not stopping even when she reaches her, gently forcing Regina to move backwards until her back hits the wall.

"Kiss me," Cady instructs, and Regina complies immediately.

Their lips meet delicately at first, just a brush of skin on skin, then Cady surges forward, pressing her body into Regina's, pushing her back flat against the wall. Regina's hands find Cady's overheated cheeks, although, if anything, they just make Cady feel more like she's burning from the inside out.

It's been so long since they did this—two weeks and three days, to be exact. Cady feels like a starving man suddenly released into the Golden Corral buffet Damian once made them stop at.

Cady licks into Regina's mouth, finding Regina's lips pliant. She grips Regina's hips, fingers digging into the skin under the waistband of her pants, and can't help the noise that bubbles up out of her throat.

She suddenly has a burning need to be skin-to-skin, and pulls back a bit. Regina makes a sound of displeasure, chasing Cady's lips, but Cady gently pushes her back.

"Take off your shirt," Cady says, yanking her own up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind her.

Regina blinks at her slowly, then the words seem to hit her brain. She pulls off her shirt, and pulls Cady back into her by her belt loops.

Cady decides to let it slide.

Cady trails her lips down Regina's neck, her fingers toying with the clasp of Regina's bra. She smirks when Regina's back arches, a silent request. Suddenly, Cady needs to hear it.

"What do you want?" Cady whispers.

"Off," Regina says, one hand tangling in Cady's hair. It almost sounds like a command, so Cady starts sliding her fingers down Regina's back.

Regina exhales, irritated. "Please," she adds, managing to sound only a little annoyed.

Cady licks a broad stripe up Regina's neck, over her pulse point, as she unclasps Regina's bra with only slightly shaking fingers. Her plan to make Regina wait to be touched goes out the window and she immediately covers Regina's breasts with her hands.

One of Regina's hands moves from Cady's hair to slide down her back, fingertips dipping into the waistband of Cady's pants, as Regina's hips thrust into Cady's.

Cady's need to be touched is superseded only by her desire to make Regina squirm, so with monumental effort she extracts Regina's hand by the wrist and steps back.

"What are you doing?" Regina demands, but it comes out breathy and hoarse.

Cady presses her fingers to her chin, like she's thinking about anything other than yanking off Regina's pants and possibly burning them so she can never put them back on again.

"Get on the bed," Cady says finally, and Regina moves the few feet to the bed and lies down. Sometimes having a small apartment has its upsides.

Cady hastily unbuttons her pants and steps out of them as she moves to climb on top of Regina, her knees bracketing either side of her hips. Regina's hands come to rest on Cady's thighs, her nails digging in slightly in a way that makes Cady shiver.

Cady thanks any higher power that might be listening that Regina's wearing elastic-waisted pants and she doesn't have to recover her fine motor skills right now, instead moving to one side so she can yank the fabric down and off Regina's legs.

"You're so hot," Regina says, and only she can make that sounds like a complaint.

Cady presses a kiss to Regina's sternum, right below the dip between her collarbones. She runs her hands down Regina's sides, her thumbs sweeping under the swell of Regina's breasts for a moment, and marvels at the goosebumps she leaves in their wake.

"Cady," Regina says, her voice strangled. Cady can tell she's exercising enormous restraint, because it's not followed by some variation of ...touch me or I'll make your life hell.

Cady is starting to feel like she's going insane herself, her thoughts moving slower, her movements growing increasingly frantic. She lingers just a moment with her fingers hooked in the waistband of Regina's panties before tugging them down and off.

Regina opens to her automatically, her hips tilted slightly up towards Cady, more of a plea than any words she could use. For a moment, like she always does, Cady marvels that Regina is hers.

She meets Regina's gaze, and Regina's eyes narrow, like she suspects Cady is plotting some new way to torture her. It fills Cady with a rush of affection.

With a final kiss just above Regina's bellybutton, Cady slips her fingers inside, her tongue moving in tandem on Regina's clit.

Regina heaves out a heavy breath, head tilting back before letting out the breathy, desperate sound Cady can't get enough of. Regina's breathing gets shallower and shallower, her thighs tensing, before the string holding her taut snaps and Cady feels pulsing around her fingers.

Cady crawls back up Regina's body, careful to not put her wet hand on the sheets (because she just washed them and it's such a pain in the ass to carry everything to the laundromat).

Regina looks at her with hooded eyes, her face red and glistening with sweat.

"You know," Regina says, running a finger below the underwire of Cady's bra, "this is not much of an incentive for me not to come and distract your class."

Cady opens her mouth to reply, but her words slam on the brakes when Regina's hand finds its way into her underwear.

They can talk about this later.

[theoceanoasis]

Rodimus finally feeling safe enough to drop and reveal he’s a bottom/sub after a passionate round of interfacing with drift & ratchet.

They are so shocked he isn’t a dom or service top like they thought but they love him still and slowly take him apart accidentally overloading inside him.

…maybe a sparkling comes maybe one doesn’t up to you

He could feel both Ratchet and Drift on either side boxing him in as they drank and laughed. Every brush of their thighs against his sent shivers up his spine.

He felt safe in that moment. Like he was wrapped in a warm blanket on the verge of falling asleep.

He felt Drift nudge him and he blinked looking over at his Amica who grinned.

"Don't tell me you're already getting tired?"

He shook his head because he wasn't. He was just enjoying himself. Taking his glass he finished his drink and looked around. Watching people dance to the pounding music he found himself itching to do the same.

Both Ratchet and Drift noticed his interest because they took his hands and led him to the dance floor. Where the three of them danced together even though Ratchet complained that he was too old for this.

He laughed leaning against them both as he spun around. Moving his body to the rhythm of the music with his optics closed as he let himself get lost in the music.

Feeling someone staring at him he opened his optics to find Ratchet and Drift watching him with lust in their optics. He blushed feeling embarrassed and uncertain.

The two of them confidently came over and pulled him away from the dance floor. He found himself following along unable to resist as the three of them made out, their hands roaming his body.

They took him back to their room and he let them kiss him. His mind felt foggy and he laid back in bed watching as the two of them made out.

His body felt nice and relaxed and he enjoyed the moment. He watched as the two pulled away slightly but didn't go far. Ratchet frowned noticing something was off and gave him a worried look.

"Are you okay?"

He gave them a sluggish nod and Drift glanced at Ratchet noticing something was wrong as well.

"I didn't think you had that much to drink and you seemed fine when we were dancing."

Ratchet scanned him and began checking him over.

"Most of the energex has already left his body. Something else is going on."

Drift looked at his aura and then gasped nudging Ratchet slightly.

"Ratty he's in sub space."

"What?"

Ratchet glanced at him again taking in the foggy trusting look in his optics and the way he was nice and relaxed.

"He's already deep in sub space even though we haven't done anything yet besides make out."

Drift stroked his head and he leaned into his touch while Ratchet watched them.

"I thought he was a dom. He always seemed like one."

"I thought he was one as well."

Hearing their conversation he felt tears in his optics as the blissful feeling started to fade.

"I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted please don't leave me."

He sobbed and both of them gave him an alarmed look.

"We're not going to leave you."

"We love you so much we were just surprised."

Drift stroked his helm and looked at Ratchet.

"We're going to take care of you and show you how much we love you."

Ratchet kissed his hand and reassured him that he was safe. The two of them coaxed him back into sub space with the promise they would take care of him.

He let them moaning as they made love to him and filled him with their transfluid. It felt so good and he ended up crying from happiness as they cuddled together.

Both Drift and Ratchet were worried at first. Until they realize it was because he was happy. With everyone else he felt the need to perform and be someone he wasn't to please them. With Drift and Ratchet he could be himself and it lifted a weight off his shoulders he didn't even realize was there.

A few weeks later he started to feel weird. He began throwing up in the morning and having weird cravings he didn't have before. Most foods would make him sick including his usual blend.

Ratchet immediately noticed the signs and took him to the medbay where the three of them nervously waited for the results as they talked over what they were going to do.

When the results came back positive they were all happy. They hugged each other and he may have cried a little from happiness.

[agentplutonium]

There was a concept that I really wanted to explore with Milo and Sweetheart, but I'm not all that sure it's in character. But here it is anyway, cause really y'all can't stop me when I actually feel like writing.

CW: Gender Neutral Sweetheart (referred to as Sneaks in this, uses They/Them pronouns), Demisexual Sweetheart, not NSFW but they are getting hot and heavy in the beginning of this, casual talk of sex/all that kinda stuff

Sneaks didn’t understand. They were the one to suggest it in the first place, so they didn’t understand why things were changing now. They did everything right, they were fine just mere minutes before this, what was happening?

The two of them have been building up to this moment all day. Sneaks was excited, and more than happy to indulge in this. They’d gotten as far as the bed, equally haphazardly undressed.

Milo moved to trail kisses along their neck, leaving Sneaks to stare up at the ceiling. It did feel good, just… Sneaks couldn't put it into words. It felt… wrong almost. They felt like their skin was crawling, itching to become a separate entity.

But it made Milo happy. He was having fun and feeling good, couldn’t they do this for him? Couldn’t they put up with it just until he had his fill? They could do it and it not be a horrible experience for them. Milo knew how they were, but they never tried to stop something after initiating. Would he understand? Would he get upset with them, angry even? There were sparks of pleasure there, swirling deep in their stomach. They could make this work, they had to just endure it.

But they could feel it. The unease. The dread. It was like lead in their heart, weighing down their very core. It felt like a chore, something they would never do willingly, and they hated that. They didn’t want times like this to be a chore for them. They loved Milo. They wanted nothing to feel like a chore with him.

Milo nipped Sneaks' earlobe, but it didn't have any effect. It usually had them gasping, and then they'd get teased for it. It wasn't right, none of this was right.

Sneaks couldn’t do this.

Sneaks swallowed thickly, the hand that was holding onto Milo’s shoulder starting to push him back. “Milo,” they whispered, voice thick. “Milo, please.”

Milo, who seemed to catch on to their unease quickly, pulled back with a worried expression etched into his face. “What’s wrong? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Sneaks shook their head, hands coming up to rest against his cheek. “No, you’re okay. I just… I don’t think I can do this.”

“You just not feeling it anymore?” Milo asked. Sneaks was searching for something they were familiar with. Disappointment. Anger. Regret or resentment. Anything that they’ve seen before. But it never came.

Sneaks shook their head again, finally answering Milo's question. "I'm sorry," They whispered.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Milo reassured, then paused. "Can I kiss you?"

Sneaks nodded but felt guilt gnaw at their chest. They had him questioning things he wouldn't have second-guessed. Milo only smiled at them before pressing his lips to theirs, gentle and soft, nothing how it was a few moments before.

Milo pulled back, sitting up. Sneaks grabbed the first shirt they should get their hands on, which ended up being Milo's, and put it on.

"I'll be back," Milo told them. "Do you want me to bring you back some water?"

"Sure," Sneaks muttered, sitting up and curling in on themselves.

Milo gave them a weird look but didn't press it. "Alright, well, I'll be right back."

Sneaks was left alone after that.

God, what were they doing? They could have avoided this, they could have kept Milo happy. If only they weren't the way they were. It must have been so easy for Milo in his other relationships. What if he realizes that, and doesn't want to try and work it out with them anymore? Would Milo want to stay with them?

"Here you are," Milo said, coming back into the room. He handed them one of the glasses he had, sitting back down beside them.

Sneaks took a small sip, not being able to make eye contact with him. They were waiting for him to say something, to bring it up, ask for an explanation, or something.

Instead, he brushed some of their hair out of their face, hand resting on their neck afterward. "What's wrong, Sweetheart? You got that look again." "Aren't you going to say something?" Sneaks asked quietly, the tremble in their voice noticeable. "Aren't you mad?"

"Mad? At what, the fact that you stopped something you weren't comfortable with?" Milo asked, voice soft. "Now why would I be mad about that, huh?"

Sneaks couldn't come up with an answer right then. Instead, they said, "You were having fun though."

"'Course I was," Milo said, "It's you. But, I would have been more upset if you let me do something like that without you wanting it."

"You didn't have to think about this before," Sneaks pointed out. They weren't sure why they were doing this, giving Milo reasons to be upset. It was like their mind was poking for some kind of reaction.

"I was still looking for consent, Sweetheart," Milo joked lightly. "It wasn't like I wasn't paying attention."

Sneaks frowned, eyes falling to the glass in their hand, fingers running along the rim of it. They were quiet for a few moments, mind muddling over what had happened.

"You don't want an explanation?" They ask finally.

"Do you want to give one?" Milo countered. They weren't sure if they did. Maybe not yet. When Milo didn't get an answer, he continued. "Sweetheart, it's your body. I'm never gonna do anything you don't want me to. Even if we ever get further than we are now, and you decided that you wanted to pull the plug, I would have listened. Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

"Of course," Sneaks answered without thinking.

"Then what does it matter?" Milo asked, not unkindly. He guided their gaze back up to him, and they saw that he was smiling at them. "I love you, and I want you to be happy. That's it. Plain and simple."

Sneaks could only look at him, trying to understand. They expected outrage, anger, and regret, not this. Literally anything else but this. This soft, caring tone that Milo had taken on, countering every negative thought that they were having. When was the last time someone put this much effort into something like this? This much effort into them?

"Do you regret it?" Sneaks whispered, and they finally started to feel a sting behind their eyes.

"Regret you?" Milo clarified, giving a soft chuckle. "Fuck no, Sweetheart. You're the best damn thing to happen to me. Hell," he let out an amused huff, "even if you decide that we can never have sex again, so long as you stay beside me, I'd still die the happiest man on earth. Because you," the word was punctuated with Milo grabbing both sides of their face, "are more than just sex, Sweetheart. You're more than just a body, though your body specifically is certainly an added bonus because it's yours."

Sneaks rolled their eyes, but Milo kept going.

"I do not, and will not ever, regret loving you, Sweetheart. And I'm gonna be here every time you need me to set those kinds of thoughts straight. You got that?"

Sneaks nodded, but Milo was having none of it.

"Say it." "I got it, Mi," Sneaks said, trying to keep the embarrassment out of their voice.

"Good," Milo pulled them in for a kiss, leaving their head spinning as usual. "I'll be here to remind you anytime you need," he added, only pulling back a few inches to say it.

Sneaks felt their chest grow tight again, but this time it was out of love rather than dread. It was like their very heart was swelling to three times its size just at that moment alone, becoming as light as helium, lifting them.

Sneaks pressed in once more to give Milo a quick kiss. "Lay down with me?" They asked.

"Of course," Milo said, "Anything for my Baby."

[probably-impossible]

Signs & Wonders

Tuco made a hasty sign of the cross. “Blondie, y- you…” he stammered. “You have…”

“What?” Blondie could feel Tuco’s panic spreading to him. His stomach twisted with apprehension. “What do I have?”

Tuco hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. Then he spread his arms. “Wings!” he said. “Great big white feathery wings!”

Day 3 entry for @dollarstrilogyevent

The man known as Blondie was not religious. But he was only a man. Deep down, he was just as scared of dying as anybody else.

In the desert, with the skin peeling off his face and thirst burning his throat, in his desperation, he made a deal with God.

I'll do anything, be whatever you want me to be, just don't let me die here…

No one making those kinds of promises expected to be bound to them. He certainly hadn't. After all, he was the furthest thing you could find from a saint. Worse than evil, he was apathy walking; he was a greedy drifter with nothing in his life worth saving. Of all the prayers from better men that God wouldn't grant, it seemed unfair for his to be answered.

But then he'd started seeing miracles. A Confederate army wagon had appeared out of nowhere, just in time to save him. Tuco, the inveterate sinner, had taken him to a Catholic mission, where holy men had washed his face and tended his wounds. And he'd recovered, against all odds. Despite his unbelief, God had taken him up on his offer.

Now it appeared that He was holding Blondie to his end of the bargain. Because that was the only possible explanation for any of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He and Tuco had just left the mission in San Antonio when he started to feel an itching between his shoulder blades. No matter how much he scratched at it, the feeling wouldn't go away.

Tuco shot him a glance. “You got a rash or something?”

Blondie scowled silently back at him. Tuco rolled his eyes. “Then stop fidgeting so much. This wagon ride is bumpy enough as it is.”

Blondie shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore the feeling. It worked for a little bit. He figured he must have gotten sunburned back there and just hadn't noticed until now.

But after a while, the itching graduated to a sharp pain, sharp enough that even he couldn't ignore it anymore. Pain, and a sense of pressure. It felt like something pushing against his skin from beneath.

After a while he realized he was sweating and clenching his fists in his pockets. He doubled over, and his vision started to go fuzzy.

He could hear Tuco saying something, then the wagon slowly came to a stop. He tried to step down from the bench, but stumbled and landed face-down in the dirt. On his hands and knees, he arched his back and clenched his jaw.

The pressure in his back built and built, and his body twitched and jerked as whatever was growing inside him strained to get out. Finally, he felt a searing explosion of pain that turned his vision white.

Something burst through his skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He must have gone unconscious for a few minutes. He didn't remember how he'd ended up on the ground, exactly. There was a dull ache that ran from his shoulder blades down to the small of his back.

He took a moment to catch his breath. Above him, he could hear Tuco yammering in frightened Spanish. He felt a weight on top of him, like a thick blanket. Had Tuco covered him with something?

Slowly, he pushed himself back up to his hands and knees, then stood. He swayed, feeling oddly off-balance. The weight on his back was still there. And he was experiencing strange sensations. Something dragging in the dust behind him… something ruffling in the breeze. His own body felt wrong, somehow. Different.

Behind him, Tuco stood pressed up against the wagon, looking at him with wide eyes. “La hostia!”

“Hey, that's blasphemy,” Blondie said, then blinked. He didn't know why he cared all of a sudden.

Tuco made a hasty sign of the cross. “Blondie, y- you…” he stammered. “You have…”

“What?” Blondie could feel Tuco’s panic spreading to him. His stomach twisted with apprehension. “What do I have?”

Tuco hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. Then he spread his arms. “Wings!” he said. “Great big white feathery wings!”

Blondie froze. “Quit fooling around.”

“I'm not fooling! I never fool! Look!” Tuco pointed at him. “They're huge!”

Blondie didn't move. He didn't want to. “You've gone crazy,” he said. “The heat got to you and you finally snapped.”

Tuco let out a frustrated groan. “You're the one who's crazy! All you gotta do is turn your head!”

“Don't feel like it.”

“You stubborn son of a—!”

Tuco lunged suddenly towards him, reaching past his shoulder. Blondie ducked away from his grasp, but still felt fingers close around his… his… He jerked as something pulled at his still-sore shoulder blades. “Tch—! Let go, you—!”

“No!” Tuco gave another sharp tug. “Not until you look!”

Blondie gritted his teeth. He looked.

Over his shoulder, he could see, sure enough, a huge wing, like a bird's. It was covered in pure white feathers that seemed almost iridescent in the sunlight. It had to be at least eight feet long, and it was firmly attached to his back.

Tuco had his grubby fingers buried in the feathers at the other end of it. By itself his grip didn't hurt, but it felt deeply strange; a touch in a place his mind was still telling him should not exist.

True to his word, though, Tuco let go when he saw Blondie turn his head. “I told you,” he said. “Wings.”

Blondie swallowed. He looked down the length of the wing and watched the feathers flutter slightly in the breeze. He looked over his other shoulder; there was a wing there, too. They were both very, very real. He tried extending them, and they unfolded clumsily, their tips dragging along the ground. He reached out and touched one. It was surprisingly soft.

“Wings,” he echoed numbly. He had wings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, he sat on the seat of the wagon with his shoulders hunched, doing his best to keep the wings folded up over his back while Tuco drove. But it wasn't easy. Every time the wagon went over a bump in the road, the wings would be jostled from their position and start unfurling. They were huge and unwieldy and awkward, and they had ruined his sense of space. He'd had a very difficult time climbing back onto the seat of the wagon at all, with the wings flailing around and bumping against the canvas. At least they hadn't spooked the horses.

The wagon jolted as it hit a rock, and Blondie’s left wing flew free and smacked Tuco in the face.

“Ay pendejo, watch it!” Tuco snapped, batting it away. “How am I supposed to see where we're going with your feathers in my eyes?!”

Blondie didn't respond. He didn't feel like talking. Instead he wanted to burn through his cigarillos and not think about anything.

Tuco scowled at him. “Hey, are you even listening to me?” He huffed. “Just because you grew a big pair of chicken wings doesn't mean you have to sit there moping all day. I need you to keep a lookout. We're getting close to the fighting, there might be soldiers around.”

Blondie frowned at him. “You act like you're used to them already.”

Tuco shrugged. “There are two types of people in the world, my friend: people who can accept whatever this life throws at them, no matter how strange it is, and people who can't. You've got to be the first type of person if you want to survive like I do.”

“Yeah, well, easy enough for you to say,” Blondie muttered. “They ain't your wings.”

Tuco threw up his hands. “What do you want me to say?! That I think you're a freak? Fine, you're a freak! Your unnatural appearance frightens and confuses me. Is that what you were waiting for? Now you can either stop sulking and make yourself useful, or you can jump off this wagon and fly to the cemetery.”

Blondie glowered at the scenery. He still felt he should be allowed to sulk for a while. He furled the wings as tightly over his back as he could.

“Wait a minute,” Tuco mumbled. He stroked his mustache with his free hand. “Now that's an idea. Yeah… that's a good idea.”

Blondie gave him a sideways glance, narrowing his eyes. He liked Tuco even less than usual when he got ideas.

Tuco just grinned at him. “You really could fly up and look around.”

“Fly.”

“Yes, fly, what are you, deaf?” Tuco pointed towards the clear sky above them. “You'd probably be able to see for miles from up there. And then we could avoid the war altogether! Just think about it: those wings could save me—I mean, us—a whole pile of trouble.”

Blondie had to spend a minute processing this. His gut instincts rebelled against the suggestion; he didn't want to be Tuco’s scouting pigeon. But it made sense. It was a good idea. “I don’t even know if I can fly with these.”

“What? What else would they be for, huh, estúpido?” Tuco stopped the wagon and started trying to push Blondie from the seat. “Come on! There's no way to know if you don't try!”

Blondie gave him a glare but hopped down of his own accord. He stumbled; his center of gravity still felt off. But after some wobbling he managed to right himself. He took a few steps away from the wagon and glanced around. He and Tuco and the horses were the only living things out here.

Tuco was watching him expectantly, with a nasty little smile on his nasty little face. Blondie didn't want that gaze on him while he did this. He started to walk around to the other side of the wagon. When he got there, though, he saw Tuco lying on his stomach in the back, supporting his head in his hands and kicking his legs. He grinned. “Don't let me distract you.”

Blondie narrowed his eyes and took a few steps backwards. There was nothing around but empty flatland, stretching off into the distance. He extended his wings and tried flapping them a few times. Their size made them slow and he had to push hard against the air, but he felt his heels lift a bit before the dust cloud his wings had kicked up swallowed him. He coughed, fanning red dirt away from his face and backing up a few more steps.

He glanced at his wings, then up at the horizon. For some reason, he was apprehensive about this. …Should be able to, it's what they're for… He clenched and unclenched his fingers. Only thing to do was to try.

He spread his wings and took a running leap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bah ha ha ha ha ha!” Tuco doubled over and practically rolled out of the wagon. “Oh man, I think my sides are gonna burst! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”

Blondie lay face-down in the dirt, wings akimbo. He had decided not to move from where he'd face-planted on his fourth attempt. So far his new appendages had done nothing but betray him.

He heard Tuco’s footsteps drawing towards him, still laughing. “You looked like a blind pigeon! Ha ha ha ha ha ha… You looked like a chicken having a seizure!”

“Hrrnngh.”

Tuco crouched down and poked at his feathers. “Hey, you didn't break any bones, did you? If you're dying again you'll tell me the name on the grave, won't you?”

“M'fine.” Blondie tensed when Tuco touched his wing. He was pretty sure his feathers were disheveled, and he felt like a cat being pet the wrong way. He shook Tuco off and pulled himself up to a sitting position.

“Ha ha ha… I guess pigs still can't fly.” Tuco plopped down into the dirt next to him. “I'm serious, you know, your feathers look messed up. Here, let me just—”

“Don't touch me.”

“You quit being so pissy! You think you're gonna be able to fix this shit by yourself? You got extendable arms too, huh?!”

Blondie scowled, but he didn't pull away when Tuco’s hands found his wings again.

“Whiny bird-bastard, can't even accept a favor from the goodness of Tuco’s heart,” Tuco grumbled. His fingers dug into the soft, downy feathers near Blondie’s shoulders and gently combed them back into place.

The touch sent a shiver through Blondie's entire body. His breath caught for a moment. That felt… really good. So good, in fact, that it was almost…

Tuco stroked his wings again and he had to bite his tongue to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Apparently that area was … sensitive. “‘S enough,” he mumbled. “Do the— the bigger ones instead.”

“Huh? Why?”

“...”

“Oh, alright.” Tuco shifted position and started working his way towards the tip of his left wing. Blondie sighed. By contrast, this just felt pleasant. Tuco's hands were warm on his wings as they swept the dust from him and smoothed his errant feathers back into place. He wouldn't admit it, but it was nice.

“Hey, Blondie,” Tuco said after a while. He let his hands drop. “The whole flying thing… eh, you'll get it eventually. Probably. But I, ah, shouldn't have laughed at you. Even though you did look like a dead parrot rolling down a hill.”

Blondie whipped his head around, almost smacking Tuco with his wing. “Was that an apology?”

“Don't get used to it,” Tuco sneered. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just thought to myself, you know, that Blondie, he’s had it pretty rough lately, what with sprouting big chicken wings and almost dying and everything. That can't be easy to deal with, even for a bastard like him. Maybe I should ease up on him a little bit. Maybe we could even let the whole trying-to-kill-each-other thing be bygones, eh? Call it even. After all, we're partners again.”

Blondie gave him a long look. Somehow, he could tell that Tuco was being uncharacteristically sincere. He didn't quite know how he knew.

He'd never been big on intuition, but this felt like some kind of sixth sense. If he focused on it hard enough, he could almost convince himself that there was a faint glow around him, telling him that this was good, this was a start, and he should trust it. If he’d been a religious man he might have called it a still, small voice.

Tuco had an almost sheepish look. “You know, Blondie,” he said, fiddling with the scapular around his neck. “This is gonna sound silly, but those wings don't really make you look like a chicken. Really, you look almost like … well. An angel.”

Ordinarily, Blondie would have never let Tuco forget he'd said a thing like that. But for some reason, today, he let it go.

He stood up and stretched his wings. He was starting to feel like maybe he could get used to them.