#fun fact! despite knowing Sunny for over two years I have only met up with her four times in real life

[adiraofthetals]

The real vibes are having Canva open on one tab to make mini-comics, Eureka on another tab, and a third tab for my Eureka timeline and fact doc.

Also extra tidbit! Eureka as a show only has 3 canon dates. Over five seasons. We have canon years but not canon dates (Time travel is in the show). The canon dates we have is October 3rd, 2006 + October 3rd, 2010, April 15th, 1947 + April 15th, 2010, and another one that I can't remember right now. The rest are implied or holiday episodes. So that is why I am making a timeline! Mainly for my fic and for me to figure out what is going on.

[blankerthought]

for @baka-monarch ‘s prompt of a pack of simps, part of it is under the cut bc it’s long

There was something about Dream that called to people. Whether it was his sunny personality, his loud, optimistic approach to life, the way he was always willing to stand up for his friends and help out wherever he was needed- it made people flock to him. The fact that he had gorgeous green eyes full of life, cute freckles and an ass you could bounce a quarter off of was also probably a factor.

The one fact that made his friends despair, however, was that despite his quick wit and occasional hilarious yet dirty jokes, that man wouldn’t know how to spot someone being attracted to him in a serious way if it slapped him with a sign saying “hey, i think you’re hot and smart and fun, we should date”. Which had basically happened, given that more than once one of his- self described- “pack of simps” had said those words or even more and had still been met with… nothing. Just Dream thinking it was a joke. Again.

This was not an isolated incident for them.

It had started, as a lot of these things did, with a childhood crush. Sapnap had always seen Dream as his best friend ever, and it had not taken much time at all for those feelings to turn into something more. And that something… never turned to anything. At first, Sapnap had kept those feelings locked up, deep inside of him, a little scared that he’d run his best friend off. As the years passed, and both of them grew up, and he witnessed exactly how his best friend handled love confessions, he realized it was, maybe, a little pointless to hide it. At this point, no matter how often Sapnap made a not-so-joke about them banging, or dating, or living together, or literally getting married, it seemed like Dream would just let it pass him by. Which, honestly, kind of worked out for him pretty well. Yes, his best friend never got his hints, but on the other hand he could stare at him (and check him out) as often as he wanted and not be told off or anything, so. He’d take his wins where he could get them.

Then, there was George. The man had moved to America from England back in Dream’s second year of highschool, and it became increasingly obvious that Dream felt something for him from pretty much the get-go. Blushing, flirting (a little badly, but that was teenage boys for you), always wanting to hang out with him. Sapnap had been jealous as hell- and then he’d met George. 

The guy was equally as head-over-heels as him, and he still didn’t know it yet. Sapnap’s jealousy had abruptly vanished, and he’d debated telling George something about how maybe he should ask himself why he was always blushing, give him a hint or two. Then George beat him at Mario Kart and the decision to leave him to figure it out himself was clearly the only good choice to make. Fair was fair, and all that.

Of course, it kind of came back to bite him in the ass when George woke him up with a call at three in the morning about how he couldn’t be in love with Dream, oh my god, Sapnap stop laughing-

And then there were two. They sat together more often, bickering and laughing and also occasionally just loudly sighing about how their best friend was hot as fuck and apparently, kind of dumb emotionally.

Then highschool turned to college, and there were three and four.

Punz had gone to their same highschool, but aside from sharing a single class and sometimes detention, they’d never interacted; except for, apparently, Dream’s secret sign-up for fighting classes. Apparently, they’d both ended up in the same class, and as competitive as they both were they’d enjoyed having someone to fight against with the same type of passion. Fighting in class had led to training together, had led to sometimes sparring alone and well, once you had someone pinned or got pinned by someone to the floor enough times, it got a little easier to see that you thought the other guy was insanely hot. At least, for Punz. He’d taken a minute or two to consider his feelings, and then immediately launched himself into flirting with Dream. Not that it was that much of a difference with the sort of things he’d been saying before he’d realized, which in hindsight explained why their fighting instructor sometimes referred to them as ‘Lovebirds’.

Okay, so maybe Punz hadn’t been subtle at all, ever. But that just made it worse when, despite Dream blushing and sometimes flirting back at him, any actual attempts at anything were just ignored. He’d met Sapnap after he’d been by to pick Dream up, and apparently just the sight of him was enough for the other man to include him into their little pining club on the spot.

On the other hand, Fundy’s thing had been a bit more of a ‘wham bam thank you ma’am’ type thing, because the man had seen Dream after meeting him at the flower shop he worked at and then immediatly fallen stupid in love. Nobody could really judge him, but they did rib him hard anytime someone mentioned love at first sight, because for Fundy all it had taken was a single talk, a flower, and a smile, and he was part of the club. 

So there they were. Four single, hopelessly pining idiots, all of them madly in love with the same man, all of them trying their best for that man to fucking notice. It got so bad that Sapnap had officially declared them as ‘a pack of simps’, the name partly brought on by the constant furry jokes at Fundy’s expense. Sometimes they met up to brainstorm a way to confess, but a lot of the time it was just them, hanging out, joking and playing games and only sometimes bragging about something Dream had done with them (George was almost always on top of their unofficial list of brags, but the time that Dream had made Sapnap pancakes while shirtless had made more than one of them green with envy).

And of course, in the end, it all came to head with a couple of simple events, no plans, no elaborate confessions, nothing. When they’d recounted it all later, it was almost painful to see how stupid it was. 

Fact number one: All of them were loud people. They yelled a lot, they liked to say stuff that most people would probably blush with shame and hide away. They’d discussed, quite frankly, a lot of things that would’ve made old grannies have a heart attack. One of those topics tended to be Dream, because the title of simps had indeed not come out of nowhere, and they were all healthy, sometimes horny people with a crush the size of Russia on a man that wasn’t only hot, but regularly drove them crazy.

Fact number two: Up until Karl had offhandedly mentioned it to him one day, Dream had had no idea polyamory was even a thing.

Fact number three: One of Dream’s lectures had canceled unexpectedly, and he’d started heading back to his place before deciding to swing by Punz’s, just because. 

Fact number four: The ‘pack of simps’ had been meeting at Punz’s loft before planning to go meet up with Dream after his lecture ended, intending to go out for the night somewhere.

Fact number five: Dream had, apparently, been attracted to all of them right back. Maybe not from the very start, but almost. 

Fact number six: Apparently, a more apt title for all of them would have been ‘a bunch of dumbasses’, but they quite happily accepted ‘polycule’ instead.

[bakatenshii]

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo​, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing​ for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could. 

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it. 

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding. 

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted. 

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you. 

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun. 

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal. 

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy. 

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you. 

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour. 

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care. 

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time. 

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite. 

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy. 

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart. 

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use. 

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time. 

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean. 

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart. 

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream. 

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction. 

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself. 

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted. 

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become. 

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.” 

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective. 

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up. 

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.  

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight. 

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” 

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close. 

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue. 

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.  

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it. 

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh. 

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint. 

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently. 

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go. 

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high. 

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em. 

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you. 

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.” 

“Want a taste?” 

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care. 

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air. 

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners. 

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more. 

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate. 

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him. 

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways. 

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole. 

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name. 

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God? 

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed. 

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed. 

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in. 

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?” 

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out— 

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection. 

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours. 

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together. 

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him. 

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose. 

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl. 

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies. 

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first? 

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red. 

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm. 

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char. 

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you. 

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there. 

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore,  can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it? 

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart. 

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth? 

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?” 

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really. 

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda. 

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best. 

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him. 

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy. 

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

[vina-writes]

Ten Favorite Drarry Fic Recs

I’ve reached a bit of a follower milestone, and I thought, why not celebrate? I’m happy! This is an incredible feeling that I honestly can’t fully articulate in writing. Knowing someone enjoyed my work and presence enough that they’d want to be notified if I posted again just makes me squeal and want to hug everyone from joy!! Thank you to anyone who has ever left me kudos, a comment, a tag, a note, an emoji, a tag emoji!! I am endlessly grateful to you all for this support and kindness.

Now, since it’s party time, I’ve compiled a personal list of my ten favorite Drarry fics to share the love. This is by no means a stamp of quality (as there are thousands of brilliant fics out there) and neither is it a guarantee that these are everyone’s cup of tea. But they are certainly my cup of tea— my whole buffet honestly.

I chose fics that made me feel deeply. Fics that made me cry, laugh, throw my phone, squeal and wiggle and dance at the end. These (mostly) weren’t fics which answered deep philosophical questions. They were fics which instead showed me love and adventure, joys and betrayals, misunderstandings and occasionally unbelievable (but appreciated) levels of smut (you know who you are). These are stories I read to be entertained, entranced, delighted, and happy. These are stories that made me feel in love.

In honor of that (and of my Canva addiction) I’ve made little banners for each. I hope they do some justice to these works. I’ve tried to capture the feeling of each fic in just one image. Without further ado, read on to find out exactly what my guilty pleasure (as if Drarry isn’t enough) is:

The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley [E, 18k] 

Summary: Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.

This story. Oh my stars, this story. What can I even say to properly express how I feel about it? This is the Romeo and Juliet, the Pride and Prejudice, the Hades and Persephone of Drarry. Reading this made me feel like an unwedded Victorian lass waiting for her Prince Charming. It’s a wonderful Historical AU that throws around power dynamics and questions of who is worthy of love, freedom, and respect despite them. This is a brilliant portrait of deep romantic love. Harry’s dedication to Draco is all-encompassing, beautiful, intense, intimate— earth shattering, really. The way they fall in love despite class and situation made me want to cry and write poetry. This is a true fairytale romance.

The Pirate and the Prince by @nerdherderette​, maniacani [E, 49k]

Summary: Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.

The moment I started this story I knew it was going to be an instant favorite. It’s swashbuckling, debonair yet disheveled, dangerous, fun, adventurous— everything you could desire from a romance on the high seas! Though they come from very different backgrounds, this Draco and Harry are a power couple to the core. Their romance is once again beautiful, intense, and dedicated, but this time it’s mixed with a healthy dose of self-exploration and mutual acceptance. But apart from romance this fic holds delicious secrecy and identity issues, an astounding knowledge of sailing ships, plenty of piratey shenanigans, some heart-wrenching found family dynamics, a cursing parrot, and a glorious angst with a happy ending finale! 

Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats [E, 104k]

Summary: Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

What can I say about Soup-pocalypse? It will lure you in with tales of Veelas and romance, and then it will kidnap you and throw you in cooking class and therapy. You’ll come out wondering what just happened and how two days have passed. There will, of course, be Veelas and romance aplenty, but it will be a caring romance, a familial romance, a supportive and kind and nurturing romance. This story feels like family, good cooking, sunny days, the deep heartbreak of change, and through all of it, the truth of a real and solid partnership. This is the humorous yet angst-ridden tale of two idiots learning to love as adults, and then in turn learning to face the world together.

you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakickass [M, 20k]

Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Right then. On to the angstiest story I’ve ever read and truly enjoyed. Not just enjoyed, adored! Worshipped! Come back to time and again whenever I needed a good cry! Here is the beauty of it: this fic is deeply painful and heartbreaking, yet it steers clear of emotions like disgust and discomfort. Never once was it disturbing— only sorrowful, in the purest and most heart-wrenching way. Yet despite the pain strung throughout the majority of it, this fic left me feeling relieved and rejuvenated, the way one feels after crying their heart out over something simple. It’s an emotional release that does not leave you broken.

On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [E, 84k]

Summary: During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.

Truly one of my favorite takes on canon divergence. Truly. This is an exploration of isolation and the joys and comforts that come with it. It is the power couple Drarry to rule them all— a Draco and Harry so strongly connected, in love, and attuned to one another that the world could fall at their feet. This story leaves you on the edge of your seat until the very bitter end— one of those where the second things are briefly peaceful the world goes up in a new set of flames. Those of you who daydream about a partnership that needs no others, two souls who are each other’s family, friend, and future, and would gladly abandon everything to spend eternity alone together: this is for you.

The Arc of the Pendulum by brummel [E, 30k]

Summary: After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.

Yes. YES. YES!!! The Beauty and the Beast take you didn’t know you needed! Still canon-compliant to an extent, this is realistic and raw and incredible. Draco makes the choice to help Harry here, and the vulnerability of their interactions while Harry struggles with the curse is everything you could hope it to be. There’s a distinct fairytale atmosphere in this fic— both of them confined together, finding support and comfort in one another while struggling through the effects of the curse, and falling in love along the way. I could write sonnets about the ending using my tears for ink, but they shan’t be revealed here.

Picking Up Pieces by Tessa Crowley [E, 43k]

Summary of Part One: Fifteen years after the War, Draco is a social recluse and award winning author. Harry is an auror who works too hard, ensuring his old war wounds never heal. They meet at a masque ball, unaware of each other's identities. In another situation, it would have been love at first sight. But for them, it would never be so simple.

Picking Up Pieces deserves no introduction, but if you haven’t read it yet, please find a blanket, and cup of tea, and a quiet place to read, cry, and recover. I sobbed my little heart out through the entire second half— the tears were really never ending. How does it end up on a reclist by a fluff lover like me? The answer is similar to Antidote— though this story broke me apart, it was never twisted nor ugly, never disturbing. It was an incredibly touching tale of redemption, forgiveness, human nature, and recompense. The writing does put you through the emotional wringer, but it leaves you relieved and whole. I would lay down my life for this Draco. He truly needs to be protected and loved at all costs. Even though I’m usually careful when recommending heavy stories, I would encourage everyone to read this— it made me feel new, it made me feel like I’d spent an hour crying in the shower, but most of all, it really did make me happy.

Two Trees by LakeWitch [E, 36k]

Summary (shortened): In his Eighth year at Hogwarts, part of Draco Malfoy's probation is to see a Mind Healer once a week. Another part, unfortunately, is having to take Muggle Studies.

It wouldn't be so bad, really, if it weren't for the mandatory outing—a 'field trip'—booked at a Muggle lakeside retreat for the better part of five days. [...] Draco is determined to get it all over with as painlessly as possible. He'll keep his head down, and stay out of everyone's way. That is, until Pansy tells him—at the very last moment—that she's schemed to have Draco stay in the same room with Potter for the whole trip.

Just the two of them... in one room.

This is the comfort fic of all comfort fics. It feels like camping, like sitting by a lake in the sun, like marshmallows over a fire and sparks against a starry sky, and cool, feather-soft hotel sheets. Draco is dealing with several different anxieties here, but the brilliant setting and easy plot turn them into a cathartic read. This is a fic about young love and the ability to build bonds on trips. It made me remember my first crushes and the feeling of getting breakfast in a hotel lobby. There’s cuddling, there’s love, there’s some highly emo Draco (both warranted and unwarranted), and there’s a truckload of nature. Go read it!

Your Place Or Mine? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark​ [E, 26k]

Summary: "This person is so much harder to hate. And I’m supposed to hate Malfoy. How the fuck else am I supposed to limit this to just sex?" 

At first I was like, “Damn, Harry,” but then I was all, “Damn Harry!” but then I went, “DAMN Harry!” (interspersed with a lot of whistling and cursing). I could have slapped him, and you will want to. This is another Draco that deserves endless love and hot chocolate, with a Harry that deserves a good smack. I think about this fic weekly, and not just because it’s endlessly hot— although it is scorching hot, like how do you even write something that hot type of hot. Draco’s pining and Harry’s stupidity makes for the angstiest yet most satisfying friends-with-benefits-but-really-there’s-more combination, and the climax (pun intended) and resulting spill of emotions is everything anyone could hope for. Ten out of ten.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken​ [T, 19k]

Summary (shortened): Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship...

This thing of beauty is exactly as hilarious as it sounds. However, it is so much more than the endless laughs (although there are many). It is sweet, tender, touching, and filled with glorious pining and misunderstandings. Inside you’ll find extravagant (the word was literally invented for Cibee’s Draco) outfits, confusing customs, a blanket that brought me to tears, one badass house-elf, one very confused beloved, absolutely no fornication (wink), and one hopelessly smitten pureblood. Be warned, this fic is actually three “What the fuck, Draco?”s in a trenchcoat. I read it when I want to laugh, facepalm, and submerge myself in the adorable stupidity that is Draco Malfoy in love. It is well worth your time and is sure to bring a smile to your face.

With this final fic we conclude my list on a happy note! It’s long, it’s tedious, and I had a spanking good time writing it. I hope these bring some joy or happy tears to your day.

Love, Vina 

[matbarzyy]

17 with Tito please!!

A/N: Trying to clean out my inbox from all the requests I got last time I posted a prompt list, hope you like it <3 The prompt was “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Word count: 1702

.

“Is that your daughter?” Anthony noticed your lockscreen when you checked your one last time before putting it away in your purse.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, feeling your chest tighten a little.

Jumping into the subject right at the start of the date wasn’t what you had expected. You hadn’t made it a secret that you were a single mom to a beautiful and smart two years old little girl, so Anthony knew what he was getting into when he asked you out, but you were still nervous about it. He was a year younger than you, and while that wasn’t much you also knew he probably had other things on his mind than taking care of a child. It was understandable, of course, but you were tired of having expectations when it came to men you were dating. If they weren’t ready to deal with the fact you had made a priority of your daughter, then you weren’t interested.

“Millie, right?” Anthony smiled, seemingly more curious about her than other men you’d met so far.

“Yes, she’s two,” you returned the expression but tried not to jump into too many details. “Still small but an absolute ray of sunshine.”

“She looks cute,” he complimented although he had only caught a glimpse of her.

You tried not to let yourself get too excited when he kept on talking and asked you more about her, but he seemed genuine and you both laughed together so much that you couldn’t help but let yourself get your hopes up. It was your first date in months that wasn’t an absolute disaster. Granted, you already had a few friends in common so you knew he had to be a decent person, but he was already more than you had hoped for.

It helped that you lived close to each other too, as you soon found out because he had walked to the restaurant too. It was still warm enough to stroll around the city without losing the tips of your fingers, so you were both making the most of it.

Two glasses of wine later, you were just about to order dessert and the date was going so well all of your stress had worn off. You were talking comfortably, most of the awkwardness made you laugh as you got over it, and Anthony was genuinely funny without ever making a misplaced comment. It was all too good to be true, but after the last three years of your life and the struggles you went through, you felt like you deserved this.

Everything wasn’t perfect, but it was nowhere near as disastrous as your previous dates and you felt like you could breathe again. Maybe your love life wasn’t completely hopeless, and maybe not all men were a nightmare to deal with.

“I can’t believe you think an apple pie is better than a brownie,” Anthony shook his head with a teasing smile, starting up a new debate on desserts now that you were both trying to pick.

“The brownie doesn’t even come close to the second place,” you had already worked out the hierarchy of the desserts on the menu in your head and the brownie was all the way down with the carrot cake.

“But it comes with ice cream!” He argued like that point would fix everything, so you laughed wholeheartedly and kept on going.

“Ice cream is for warm sunny days,” you stated, sure that it would get a reaction out of him, and his huff was just what you had expected.

“This statement is wrong in so many ways.” He rolled his eyes, tone still playful.

“Enlighten me,” you chuckled, leaning the side of your head against your hand. Your smile fell a second later when your phone rang, stopping him from replying. “I’m sorry, I have to take that,”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, leaning back in his chair and pretending to look at the menu again to give you a moment.

“Please don’t be an emergency,” you muttered to yourself but Anthony still caught it before you picked up. “Hello?”

You didn’t move from your seat as you listened to what your niece had to say. You let out some okays here and there as she talked, and Anthony watched the way your face fell a little bit more with every second that passed.

“I’m so sorry,” you bit your bottom lip. “I really have to go,”

“Hey, it’s fine,” he frowned at the look on your face. “Is she okay, what happened?”

“She’s sick, apparently got a fever and all that fun stuff,” you put your jacket on and grabbed your purse. “My sixteen years old niece is watching her and she doesn’t know what to do,”

“Let’s go then,” he nodded, abandoning the idea of eating dessert and standing up too.

You walked back to the front of the restaurant together, a waiter had already spotted you and was coming forward so that you could pay. You expected to take care of the bill, being the reason the date was ending early, but Anthony stopped you from reaching into your bag and handed his card to the waiter.

“I got it,”

“Thank you,” You replied quietly, not wanting to argue because it was bad enough already that you had to leave. “I’m really sorry I had to cut this short.”

“The night isn’t over, come on, I’ll walk you back.” Anthony didn’t let his mood go down and your eyes almost bulged out of your head.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s getting cold,” you felt awful for ruining the night, the last thing you needed was to make him walk further to get home.

“It’s late and it’s dark, I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” He held the door of the restaurant open for you and you ducked your head as you walked past, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Thank you,”

You were quiet as you walked, a little hurried to get to your daughter fast although you weren’t in a rush to leave Anthony. Having him close was nice despite how uncomfortable you now were due to your family emergency.

His hand bumped against yours, once, twice. The third time, you knew it wasn’t an accident, so you looked up at him to find him stealing a glance at you too. A smile etched on his face and he linked your fingers while you went giddy all over.

“So,” he broke the silence. “How many dumb guys have ruined dates for you just because you have a daughter?”

“That obvious, uh?” You stared at your feet again, but the way his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand comforted you.

You wished you still had the confidence you used to have before you got pregnant. As much as it had taught you, there were still times when you regretted how easy it used to be for you to believe you were worth something on the dating scene. You had learned a lot with Millie, but you also stopped progressing in other aspects of your life.

“A little,” Anthony admitted and kept on walking at your pace. He could tell you were in a rush to check everything was okay at home, so he didn’t want to slow you down despite wishing the date could have lasted longer. “I knew about her when we met, I wouldn’t have asked you out if it bothered me,”

“Well, I used to assume that when I got asked on dates, but turns out it was too big of an assumption.” You chuckled dryly, making his heart squeeze.

Anthony felt for you in that moment. It was unfair that they had treated you that way for something you weren’t hiding. He could tell you were happy to have you daughter and you clearly loved her more than anything, but he could also see the shame you carried being a young single mother.

It wasn’t right that you were constantly receiving negative reactions for being the parent that stayed. You were the one trying your best to give your daughter the best life you possibly could, and Anthony couldn’t do anything but admire that.

The idea of being with you in the long run and possibly becoming important in Millie’s life had been on his mind for a long time before the date. It was a lot of responsibilities to take, but at the end of the day he had refused to pressure himself because of it. You were great and he wanted to get to know you, it was that simple. Only time could tell where the two would end up, and going out with you on a few dates didn’t mean he had to commit to anything immediately. He also knew that if you were the right person for him then he was ready to commit to it all.

“That’s me,” you eventually slowed in front of a building and came to a stop, unsure of what else to say. You hated how uncomfortable you were, the two of you had just clicked when you met up at the restaurant and yet you were stuck in an awkward silence now.

Anthony welcomed the interruption; he didn’t want to keep on overthinking things. “I know tonight didn’t end the way you hoped it would,” he said because that much was obvious, getting you to look up at him rather than anywhere else on the street for the first time since you had begun walking. “But I had a great time, and it’d be nice if we could go out again soon,”

“I-” you had prepared yourself to utter another apology, but his words took you by surprise and your chest went tight with nervousness. “Yes, I’d like that,” you breathed out faster than you should have and Anthony’s smile spread across his face, making his blue eyes brighten even in the darkness of the night. “I’m not sure when I’m free yet but, um-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled softly. The way you were fumbling for words and tried to hide your grin was endearing. “Just text me when you know, yeah?”

“I will.”

Tags (add yourself to my taglist here): @itrocksmysocks @kerwritesthings @pupsandpucks @barzysreputation @whythough1319 @smit41 @glassdanse @fiveholegoal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @thefootballfaithfull @calgarycanuck @heatherawoowoo (strikethrough means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 5

Summary:

I once again expose myself for being into older men, and you and Woods go on your first date

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 6 | Warnings: strong language and some age difference, in case you don't like that

“Anyway, can I help you with something?”

Your friendly voice and sweet smile pull him out of his thoughts. Frank looks down at you, and instantly lets his nerves get the better of him. This was a mistake from the beginning.

He looks away, attempting to mask his insecurities with a gruff exterior, “Uh, it’s nothing. Sorry, may-”

“Oh no no, it’s fine, really! I just have to deliver these papers and then I can be right with you”, you smile encouragingly, and then… he decides to stay. More due to the fact that he feels unable to say no to you rather than by his own resolve, however.

He’ll have to watch out for that.

So he waits. There’s exactly one other chair in your office, a squat cube shaped thing sitting on the other side of your desk. Clearly this is something you own and brought in, rather than a piece of furniture that was given to you like that plain old black office chair behind your desk. The chair looks like it was brightly colored once, and smacks of something salvaged from the early 70s and dragged into the modern era. Still, it’s rather comfortable despite the faded, slightly sagging state of it.

Frank traces his fingers up and down the angular arm rest, thinking of you. You know, now that he’s had the chance to look around… There’s actually quite a few things of the past in here. He sees a bulky old camera and even a typewriter tastefully displayed amongst a few other nik naks on your shelves, both of which look like they were rolled out around the time he was just a child.

For a moment, he feels uncomfortable again and far too old to be trying something like this with you. But then, the anxiety is washed away with the musing that perhaps…. You like old things.

He can’t help but huff a laugh at that. A wishful thought on his part, maybe, and yet… not completely untrue.

“What’s so funny?”, your curious voice pulls him out of his thoughts as you suppress a small laugh of your own.

“Huh? Oh, nothing just… That camera’s gotta be older than I am”, he chuckles and points to the black box of a thing just above you. “What are you doing with a piece of junk like that anyway?”, he laughs.

You gasp in mock hurt, “It’s not junk! It works!” Suddenly you seem to grow quite excited, trotting up to retrieve the object in question. Cradling it carefully, you swing around your desk and take a seat on the hardwood, showing off your treasure, “This is a Kodak Cartridge Hawk-Eye from 1926!” You enunciate the date excitedly as though it were a relic from the dinosaur days, meanwhile all Woods can think of is that that was only a mere four years before he was born.

For a few minutes longer, you go on giving a whole info dump on all you know about the little device, wave upon wave of building excitement adding to your voice and before long, Frank finds himself being swept up in it all. No offence, but… he really doesn’t give a single fuck about the camera. But, the way it has you grinning bright as sunshine. The electric spark in your eyes. The way you give his arm a gentle touch to brace him for what you seem to think is a very riveting fact…

He would listen to you talk about that damn thing all day, just to see you like this.

Before he knows it, the lecture is over and he couldn’t be more disappointed. You shake your head, just now realizing you’ve gone off on a tangent once again. “Ugh, sorry…”, you laugh it off and go to put it away, “I just get so excited about my antiques. I love that stuff, you know? Anyway, before I go off again… What was it you wanted to see me for?”

Suddenly, Frank can feel his heart clench tight. He had almost forgotten why he came, and now… he’s wishing you would’ve too.

“Oh? Uh, why… Why did I-? Uh… Yeah, um, so-”

Damn it! He never thought he’d say this, but he’d rather be in a gunfight right now. Anything then this… juvenile, high school shit. You’ve since returned to your spot on the edge of your desk. Despite his highly suspicious stuttering, your expression remains polite and even encouraging as you wait for him to formulate a coherent sentence.

While his mind reels for some sort of excuse, anything to get him out of this situation he’s dug for himself, his nervous gaze lands on the very last thing it needs to right now. Your eyes are glittering in this afternoon light. Do you know that?, he thinks. You’ve locked eyes right back at him, but the situation is anything but awkward. He appreciates the way that you aren’t afraid of him. That you’re willing to show him patience and understanding… Like he’s a fucking human being, instead of some crazy old veteran that you’re just indulging until you can finally get rid of him.

The longer he looks back at you, the more and more he can feel the tension melting out of him. Each muscle in his body slowly but surely unclenches, allowing him to relax at last as he leans back into his seat. He can’t lie to you. You don’t deserve that.

Damn it…

Frank breaks eye contact at last. He flexes his hand gently, working out the nervous energy, as he makes a fist. “I uh… I was just wondering if, maybe… you wanted to get coffee sometime…”

Immediately he braces for… well, he’s not sure what exactly, but rejection for sure. He closes his eyes so he can’t see the disgusted face you must be making, and all the muscles he’d just set at ease jump back into bands of iron across his chest, tensed so tight, he feels like his heart might stop. It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like years have passed when you finally respond…

“Sure! What time would work for you?”

His eyes snap open as he jerks his head around to look at you, not entirely sure he heard you right. But then… there’s that same, sunny smile and electrified eyes that tell him you mean it.

“I-I uh…”, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Woods sits up straight, fixing a strand of hair that’s strayed from its place, and grinning excitedly himself. He hasn’t felt like this in… years. “W-well what time would work for you? I’m sure as shit not doing anything”, he laughs.

You think for a moment, “Oh! Say, do you go for a run on Saturdays too?”

Pft, not lately. “Yeah! Why?”

You light up, “Great! Tell you what, let's meet up and we can go for a run together then hit that coffee shop we met at last time. Would that be alright? Could be fun!”

As though you even needed to ask, he’s already agreeing. The two of you make some more concrete plans like the wheres and whens specifically before preparing to head your separate ways. You stop him and scribble down your number on a torn sheet of paper. “Just in case”, you smile. “And hey… Loser pays”, you break out into laughter.

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles back, “Don’t think I’ll go fucking easy on you!”, he calls, half way down the hall by now as you wave him off.

When you’ve retreated out of sight, Woods takes a look around. Alone again. Good. He reaches into his pocket and gingerly retrieves the slip of paper. Over and over again he reads and re-reads the chicken scratch handwriting you’ve produced. To him, it’s wonderful.

By the time he gets to his car, he feels like he knows that number better than his own dog tag ID. He slips the precious sheet into his wallet, the first of a few select reminders of you that he’ll keep safe in there.

As the few short days go by, he waits restlessly until he can see you again. And finally… Finally, Saturday morning comes.

5:26 am, and he’s up before his alarm. He doesn’t even need to check the digital clock to see what day it is. He already knows as he jumps out of bed and races to get ready. In no time at all he meets you early at the nearby park you agreed to meet at. You’ve come prepared in your high tops, short shorts, and nylon catsuit. Stylish and modern, but thankfully not as over the top as what the fashion industry would have you in.

It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his eyes up.

“Ready?”, you stretch your arms up high, only accentuating your body as you do so.

Frank can feel himself turning red as he status out an affirmative, earning… is that a smirk? from you.

“Alright then, ready… set…”, without warning you bolt off for a head start.

“Hey!”

He wants to be mad, but… He’s just having too much fun, damn it. About half way through, it’s a fair race, and although he’s beating you it’s not by that much. Once he’s proved to himself that he’s still got it, Woods allows himself to fall back, giving you the ego boost you need to stick it out and sprint to the finish, tired as you are.

Frank trots to a stop behind you shortly, only slightly more out of breath then you are. He may have let you win, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t give him hell in the first half.

“Cheater”, you give his shoulder a light punch and a knowing look.

“Me?”, he laughs, ignoring the accusation that he would ever let someone else beat him in a competition, “What do you call that stun at the start?”

You merely laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as you head towards the door of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as you enter and walk up to the counter together. You place your orders, and Frank pays. You wait in silence for your orders, merely taking the time to completely catch your breath.

Drinks and breakfast in hand, you sit by the large bay windows together. The sun has just peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow. A halo of light shines around you, catching every perfect curve and angle you have to offer as you grace him with your presence. The food and coffees are nearly forgotten as you both get caught up talking about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation topics turn and change like leaves in the wind, easily transitioning from one to the other as you slowly yet surely get to really know one another.

Frank is on the edge of his seat, waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say next as he talks with you. It’s the most excited he’s been to hear someone else drone on and on in his entire life. By the time you’re both feeling talked out, the sun is well on it’s way to rising and the morning dew has since evaporated.

But, it doesn’t matter. How could he ever feel time was wasted when it was spent with you?

The two of you walk back towards the park, making sure to take it slow so you can get the most out of what little time you have left together.

“And then I said, ‘Looks don't count for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam baby!’ “

You burst out laughing, “Did you really? And then what happened!”

He grins, “Well, the- Oh, wait, we’re uh, we’re here…”

The two of you stop at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically empty aside from your lone car only a stone’s throw away. At that, the mirth seeps from you as well as you agree.

“Well… I guess… thanks. I had fun, you know”, Frank turns to face you, hoping more than anything that you enjoyed yourself as well.

“Yeah, me too!”, that familiar little smile that he’s grown so fond of slowly makes its way back. “Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides,”, you act on a jolt of courage, stretching up on the tips of your toes to press a little kiss to his rough, stubbly cheek, “you have to tell me the rest of your story”

You lick your lip and give it a little nervous bite as you shyly take his hand in yours for comfort.. It feels huge, more like a bear paw than a human hand, compared to yours. “Well… See you later…”, you turn and begin to back away, holding his hand until you can no longer reach, forcing you to let go. You offer him one last smile, but all he can do is stand there, frozen amongst a roar of emotions.

Woods lifts a hand to his cheek, reverently caressing the spot your lips touched. The depth, breadth, and complexity of feeling circling in his mind are far too much for him to ever put into words. But, out of them all, one rings out loud and clear. He’s so, so…

Happy.

[meetmymouth]

when sunny met harry : harry styles imagine

based on this request

summary: harry and y/n break up but they’re not the only ones suffering. their -now her- golden retriever sunny thinks harry’s coming back.

“Sunny?” She calls from the bedroom when she doesn’t hear the nails on the wooden floor signalling that he’s following her.

As soon as Y/N gets home from work, Sunny would follow her around like a baby duck for a couple of hours, at least until after dinner, before he decides that Y/N’s here to stay.

Harry and Y/N found the lovable Golden when he was only 2, abused and abandoned near their local Waitrose. When Harry noticed and tried getting close to him, the puppy was all teeth and growls. At the end of year, they had the loveliest, goofiest puppy who loved head massages and belly rubs.

Despite Harry’s hectic schedule, Sunny loved him and Y/N even made fun of him and called Sunny a ‘daddy’s boy’. Harry loved being Sunny’s favourite because he was the fun ‘parent’: he found nothing wrong in sneaking him a few more treats than usual, didn’t raise his voice whenever Sunny decided that the bed was his territory and he let him bite and chew on his arms as much as he liked.

So when they broke up three months ago, it felt like a divorce more than anything so to say. Giving up Sunny and having him stay with Harry wasn’t an option not only for her but also Harry since he was rarely in London and whenever he was, he used to stay over at hers.

So when Harry was moving the last box out of her flat, he gave Sunny one last pat and a kiss on the head before leaving for good. Bless him, Sunny didn’t even know what was going on, he probably thought Harry was coming back either with treats or a movie to cuddle up on the sofa like they always did on Fridays.

“Sunny? Come get it,” Y/N tries again, thinking it will make him come to her if he thinks she’s offering him food but there’s nothing.

When she takes off her watch and earrings, she makes her way into the leaving room but she stops at the sound of Sunny’s wagging tail hitting the floor.

“What are you doing silly?”

Sunny turns his head and gives him a quick glance before turning back.

He’s sat in front of the front door, tail wagging happily as if someone showed him his leash which would mean he would go on his ‘walkies’.

Growing frustrated, she gets closer to the chubby dog and pets his bum.

“What are you doing, huh? You wanna go potty,” she muses more to herself and pouts. “Potty?” Her voice comes out louder than before, hoping that the word he’s fully familiar with would get a reaction out of him. But he stays put.

She does have a theory that might explain his behaviour but she really doesn’t want to go there. She starts walking away, just to test if he follows her but he’s still waiting by the front door.

“Are you kidding me?”

She reaches and knocks on door only once and her feelings are confirmed when Sunny replies with an enthusiastic bark.

Her heart sinks at the realisation that Sunny is, in fact, missing Harry and thinks he’s coming back.

Of course, he’s been showing signs of missing him and looking for him ever since he moved out but they weren’t as heartbreaking as him waiting by the front door. He would wait in front of their -her- bedroom door every morning despite Y/N already leaving the room, as if he was still asleep and would wake up, leave the room and give Sunny his morning pets.

Or when it’s time for bedtime and Sunny sneaks into her room and steals the second pillow from the bed, only to lay his head on it while he snoozed on the floor, next to the bed.

When he did stuff like that, Y/N knew it was because he missed Harry. But when he waited by the front door, it felt like he didn’t even know Harry wasn’t coming back. And that broke her heart.

“Sunny...” she tries guiding him towards the living room by his collar but he keeps barking. “Come on, come get treats.”

He doesn’t budge. In fact, he starts barking more and Y/N backs away, hands rubbing her forehead in hopes of getting rid of her headache.

As he barks away, she leaves him by the front door and perches on the sofa, hand reaching for her phone.

She knows he’s on a break and since they have mutual friends, she knows he’s in London. But she also knows how inappropriate and well, bad it would be to call her ex boyfriend because her dog misses him.

It all sounds so pathetic. And sad.

She sighs happily when Sunny stops barking for a moment but he starts again after a minute, making Y/N groan in frustration.

She calls his name, yells, tells him to stop but Sunny doesn’t budge. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose to piss her off.

With a quick decision, she unlocks her phone and find his contact. She doesn’t even hesitate before pressing the tiny icon and it starts ringing. When it signals that he’s picked up, Y/N feels herself starting to sweat.

“Hello?”

Y/N can’t help but close her eyes at the sound of his voice. It’s been longer than two months since they’ve spoken and only for a moment, she wants to pretend like nothing’s happened and she’s only calling to ask if he wants curry or tacos for tonight.

“Hi,” she almost whispers. “It’s Y/N.”

“I know, I have your number,” he chuckles and Y/N wants to feel jealous over the nonchalant response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. It’s just-“ as she tries to explain what’s going on without sounding like a clingy ex, Sunny’s barks become louder.

“Is that Sunny?” Harry chimes in.

“Yeah, he’s just- he won’t stop barking and he’s been sitting by the front door ever since I got home.”

She gets up and peeks her head into the corridor where Sunny’s still barking.

Harry must’ve heard the increasing sound that he signs on the other end of the line.

“Put me on speaker?” he suggests and Y/N obeys, pressing the speaker button and hopes that Sunny will stop barking if he hears his voice.

“Done,”

For a moment, they don’t speak. Harry doesn’t say anything. Sunny keeps barking.

And then they hear Harry shout Sunny’s name.

Then all of a sudden, the barking stops. Sunny starts looking around, trying to spot Harry and it breaks Y/N’s heart even more. He looks so happy, tail still wagging and tongue out as he comes towards the living room where Y/N’s standing with her phone on hand.

“Sunny boy?” Harry calls again and Sunny finally spots the phone and how Harry’s voice is coming from there.

As Sunny jumps up and down, Harry starts laughing at the sound of Sunny’s nails hitting the floorboard.

“He stopped barking,” Y/N starts but Harry starts talking to Sunny again.

“Sunny! Why are you being so loud, huh? Are you being a bad boy for Y/N?”

She rolls her eyes but at the same time his chest feels tight at the way he says her name.

“Do you think... should I FaceTime him? I mean...” he starts blabbering. “I know it’s not ideal but I miss him too and-“

“You can come and visit him when you’re in London, Harry. It’s us who broke up. Not you and Sunny.”

She knows three months isn’t a long time to get over him. She still misses him. She sometimes freezes in her place when she spots the single toothbrush in the bathroom. She still struggles cooking for one rather than two and she still doesn’t know if she should delete his pictures from her phone or not so she sticks to going through them with a wet smile and a glass of white.

“You sure? I feel like I’d overstep.”

“You wouldn’t. Maybe- maybe not now. Like, not at the moment but you can visit in the future. If you want.”

When she looks down, Sunny’s watching Y/N where he’s now laying on the dog bed in front of the TV unit.

“Alright. Thanks. I think- I’d like that I think. I really do miss him,” he mumbles and Y/N can picture him pinching his bottom lip.

She’s selfish so she wants to ask ‘what about me? Do you miss me too’ but she refrains and clears her throat.

“Okay. Okay- that’s cool. We can arrange that.”

“Has he settled down?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s just staring at me.”

“Good. Good boy,” he calls out again and Sunny’s ears perk up.

“Silly boy. Anyway, uhm. Thanks, Harry. Sorry for bothering you-“

“Don’t be silly. I know how anxious you get when he keeps barking. This was- this was good.”

She smiles gives another glance at the dog.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. Thank you.”

“Y/N?” He says, voice all rushed and hurried as if he wants to sneak in a last few words before they hang up.

“Yeah?” She asks, feeling anxious over what’s coming next.

Is he going to tell her not to call again? Or only call for things concerning Sunny?

“Can you- I mean. Can you send me a few pictures of Sunny? I haven’t seen him months and well... yeah.”

At his hesitant request, Y/N feels her chest tighten with sadness and there’s a knot in her stomach, making its way towards her throat and she wants to hang up as soon as possible so that she can start crying.

“Of course,” she promises, head tilted to the side and eyes all glassy with tears threatening to fall.

And later when she’s cuddled up with Sunny on the sofa and spamming Harry with some recent pictures of the silly dog who’s snoozing on her, the tears starts falling down as Harry replies with numerous heart eyes emoji.

                      *                    *                         *

                                 *                      *

part two

💌 SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS 📝 MASTERLIST

[maybankiara]

HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW? (for @ptersparkers writing challenge)

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

summary: Rafe falls for you at the beach. He’s nothing like they say he is, and he just so happens to turn a new leaf with you.

word count: 2k

additional: this is pure fluff with soft!rafe. doesn’t entirely ignore the addiction and other issues, but doesn’t exactly address them, either.

masterlist | tag list

written for an anon

Rafe Cameron walks up to you at the beach, on a sunny day, with hair styled with a little too much gel, a pair of sunglasses on top of it, a curious smile on his lips, and a reputation that precedes him.

  He greets you with a simple ‘hello,’ and your mind gives you a brief summary of all the things you know about him.

  Being two years older than you, he was at your high school for half of your time there. Most of your friends drooled over his fancy car, polo shirts that screamed American money, and how his tongue was allegedly made of silk. He’s renowned for being a notorious party boy, a massive flirt, and someone who hasn’t faced any legal charges yet because of who his daddy is.

  Personally, you’ve never had any particular opinions on him, but considering he’s now standing mere three feet from you and waiting for a response, the situation is calling for it.

  You decide to smile. ‘Hi.’

  ‘I’m sorry if this seems a little weird,’ he admits, ‘but I saw you from where I was standing with my friends and I had to come say hi.’

  This makes you chuckle, because his cheeks and his nose turn red, and he stumbles over his words. It’s nothing like the suave Rafe Cameron you’ve heard so much about.

  ‘Well, that’s certainly a way to get a girl’s attention.’ You give him a warm smile and extend your hand, which he takes. ‘Y/N.’

  ‘You have a really pretty name, Y/N.’ He repeats your name once more, as if testing the way it rolls in his mouth. ‘I’m Rafe.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m guessing my reputation precedes me.’

  ‘You’d guess correctly.’

  Rafe makes a grimace and sighs, shaking his head slightly. ‘And here I was thinking I’d make a great first impression.’

  You laugh because there's something so easy and unexpectedly relaxing about the boy in front of you. With his hands in his pockets, a crooked smile to his lips and a sheer layer of redness covering his face, he is nothing like you’d expect.

  So you shrug, leaning against the wooden fence with you arms crossed on your chest. ‘It’s not a bad first impression. I don’t really care about what I’ve heard.’

  An eyebrow shoots up. ‘You don’t?’

  ‘I’m not naive enough to think everything people say is the truth. I like seeing things for myself and then judging them.’

  ‘That’s a smart way to do things.’ He sounds impressed enough to bring an even bigger smile out of you.

  The conversation continues, somehow turning from small talk and introductions into a discussion about the importance of other people's opinions on one's own. It’s a pleasant surprise when you find Rafe as engaged as yourself, with a little wrinkle between his brows whenever he takes a pause to think, or the same crooked but curious grin when you tell him something he finds interesting.

  ‘Don’t your friends miss you?’ you ask, nudging your head in the direction of the two boys he pointed at earlier.

  Rafe glances over, before turning back to you. ‘Is that your way of telling me to leave?’

  ‘Kind of,’ you admit with an apologetic smile. ‘It’s getting late and I only planned on coming here for a few minutes, not almost an hour.’

  ‘Has it been that long already?’

  ‘You know how it goes, time flies when you're having fun.’

  He nods.

  You don’t know if he’s aware of how the opposite of subtle he is, but you’re as far from oblivious as he is from unnoticeable. His eyes glaze over you more than once, with the same curiosity that is in his smile when you speak. It’s a look you’ve seen on many boys’ faces. A mixture of attraction and interest, with a little bit of wonder and perplexity. is she worth my time? the look is asking. is she someone i am interested in?

  If this were all, you wouldn’t have looked at him twice, let alone held a conversation this long. The difference between the look you’re so familiar with and the one on Rafe’s face is that as the conversation goes on, whenever the corner of his mouth quips, the look becomes a little less wonder and a little more certainty.

  It’s this particular thing that lands him a ten-digit number in his contacts, and a promise of a continuation of the conversation. He walks with you until the end of the beach, which is where you leave for the town and he goes back to his friends. He leaves as he came – hands in the pockets of his shorts and a face with a red tinge to it. There is nothing smooth or Casanova-like to him, and it is that very fact that makes you realise that finally, after four years of hearing about him, you finally have an opinion on Rafe Cameron.

  And it is this: nothing you’ve ever heard about him is true.

  ★

The relationship between Rafe and you develops at a steady rate. True to his word, he calls you less than twenty-four hours after your conversation, and it’s one of the very few times you’re glad someone calls instead of texts. He has a nice, soothing voice, and he doesn’t drag out the conversation. It’s more of a confirmation that the promise he gave you was not empty.

  He asks you out after a few days of scarce conversation. He isn’t much of a texter, you notice, and he tells you it’s because conversations over message cannot even compare to those held in real life. You are almost certain that if you the two of you were closer, he’d call.

  It’s not a date. The two of you talk about everything, realising you’ve got some mutual friends. Just like the first time, talking to him is effortless. It makes your brain unwind in a was that is comfortable and soothing – you assume this has something to do with the softness in his eyes when he looks at you.

  Despite your expectations, the curious twitch in his smile doesn’t go away, weeks into hanging out. He’s lived a life different than yours and sometimes, it feels like he’s hearing of struggles of the middle of the chain for the first time. You’re not poor like the people from the Cut, but you’re not Figure Eight–rich, either.

  With time, Rafe starts walking closer, looking at you with the same gaze full of admiration, taking the eyelashes off your face instead of telling you it’s there. It’s the simplest touches, never crossing the line of just friends, even if threading on it.

  When he tries taking you to an expensive restaurant, you stay the night at his place and order takeout instead. His hair stops being gelled around you and you stop putting a lot of effort in the way you look when you come over. Hanging out turns into hanging out, as if there’s something more to it.

  Rafe kisses you on a Tuesday night. You’ve been waiting three months for this, ever since you caught his eye at the beach that sunny day. He’s gentle and reserved, giving you nothing more than a chaste peck.

  It progresses from there. One month down the line, you’re official, and nobody is surprised – even the people you’ve heard talk about him before as if he weren’t the one to be tied down. With you, he has been nothing but gentle and patient, taking things at whatever pace both of you felt comfortable with.

  There are times when you wonder what people think of you, all the same ones who had so many opinions about him that were little other than lies. Of course, you’re not a fool – you know there had to be some truth in them, too. You see it for yourself when Rafe shakes his head at parties to Topper and Kelce and you see them doing lines in the kitchen ten minutes later.

  Whatever Rafe was like before you met him, it doesn’t matter. In the time you’ve been with him, Rafe has started to feel more comfortable on a wider scale. His shoulders tense less when he's around his father, he is kinder to his sister, he doesn’t support his friends doing things that could bring harm to them or to others.

  It doesn’t matter what people say. You know your truth.

  ★

Rafe Cameron likes the beach, even when it’s autumn. He likes to wear tight turtleneck sweaters, usually in dark earth colours, and he likes to wear black skinny jeans, surprisingly. He likes the grey weather, when it’s cloudy and a little chilly, and the breeze pushes away the dry heat of the sun. He likes being cosy, playing rock songs and playing cards.

  This is the opinion you have on Rafe five months into knowing him. You look at the boy in front of you, shuffling playing cards while lying on his side, propped up on his elbow – you can’t picture this being the same person you spent so long only hearing about.

  He catches you looking and darts a card at you. ‘You better be thinking about how you’re going to treat me once I’ve won.’

  ‘It’s not fair,' you say. ‘You’ve been playing the game for far longer than I have.’

  ‘That’s life. It isn’t fair.’

  Rafe smiles and deals the cards. It’s yet another round you lose in a row, but it’s not just because of the lack of experience.

  He takes the cards and puts them away, lowering the volume on the speaker. ‘What’s bothering you?’

  You sit on the blanket with your legs crossed and his fingers playing with the bottom hem of your jeans. It’s cosy, with wind whistling as the background to the song currently playing.

 ‘It’s not bothering me,’ you say, ‘but I guess I’m wondering how someone like Rafe Cameron, the Casanova and Charlie Sheen of Outer Banks becomes the boy who wears turtleneck sweaters and skinny jeans.’

  Rafe laughs with ease evident on his face. He tugs on your jeans playfully, grinning wide. ‘Is that what you’re thinking about right now?’

  ‘You asked.’

  He turns on his back and props himself on his elbows, switching his gaze between the moving sea and you, sitting next to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body.

  One of his hands goes back to your ankle. He traces the skin underneath the jean fabric with his thumb, while his eyes give you the same glint they’ve had in them since the moment you met.

  ‘I thought you didn’t care what others thought of me.’

  ‘I still don’t, but it’s not something that’s easy to forget,’ you confess.

  Rafe gives you one of the modest smiles, shy and tentative. It wrinkles the skin around his eyes and gives him the slightest dimple and lines around his jaw, but it’s all so soft you barely notice.

  It’s the smile you feel like belongs to you only. You wouldn’t be surprised if it did.

  ‘That day at the beach,’ he begins. ‘I saw you standing there, and something in me said that I needed to talk to you.’

  You laugh, because you think he’s joking, but his smile remains earnest and he waits until you stop. The hand that was on his ankle moves to your wrist, his touch just as gentle and soft.

  ‘Please don’t say it was love at first sight,’ you say, because you haven’t even said the words to one another.

  Rafe shakes his head. ‘It wasn’t like that. It was just...’ He scratches the bridge of his nose, sighing lightly. ‘You know when you get that feeling in your chest like everything is possible?’

  You nod.

  ‘It was that.’

  ‘Rafe Cameron, you’re a hopeless romantic,’ you tell him. There’s a smile on your face, and you think about how he hasn’t actually answered your question, but you let him place a kiss on your lips nonetheless.

  He rests his forehead against yours. His fingers are right below your ear now, soft and gentle, like always. His breath is hot against your lips, and you think maybe that saying those three words isn’t going to happen far from this moment.

  He kisses you again, just like that first time, only now you feel him smile into it.

  ‘Not hopeless.’

  ★

tagging. @jjtheangel @teenwaywardasgardian @thelocalpogue @jjmaybanky @sacredto @chasefreakinstokes @drewstarkey @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @margaritatimebaybee @outrbank @yourlocalauthor @justawilddreamerchild @snkkat @mynamewontwork13 @sunwardsss @storiesbymads @koufaxx @drewstarkeyobx @ilovejjmaybank @jjmaybanksbaby @mahleeyuh @starkeymarkey @nicolewithasoul @kiarawilliams127 @butgilinsky

[erinhime83]

So…so, since someone managed to get my muse all Sailor Moon happy, I figured I’d take the time to complete a couple of design sheets I’ve had sitting around for, like, a couple of years.  So, yeah, while this seems like this might have been an undertaking, they were all pretty much done around the same time as when the Sailor Aeolus design went up, except the last two.  I just had been too lazy to really finish them to be put on deviantArt.

I mean, it wasn’t that much of an undertaking to begin with, seeing as they’re all basically the same design, so it involved a lot of copy/pasting.  ;P

The only thing that I did to them for this was change their casual designs from their school uniforms to actual clothes because I had the idea of taking the school angle away and just make the story take place on, say, Aeolus, but I decided that doesn’t work 100% with what I have planned, but still.  Maybe they don’t have uniforms?  

I also did up the last two recently, but again, it didn’t take that much effort.  I just wanted to design the main villain, and then figured I might as well toss in her teammate as well.

Sailor Aeolus/Aeris Anemone/Erin O’Colley – CLEARLY, I didn’t do much to her since the last design other than changing up her civilian outfit like I mentioned.  I still love the idea of her hair being magically altered so no one knows she’s actually the princess Aeris (and I like how Aeris and Erin sound close enough that it’d make sense for her to adapt a more common name in hiding), but then the Millennium Crystal negates the magic and reveals the Aeolian royal family is quite alive and well.

Basically, when Aeris was young, her planet was attacked by the previous Sailor Nemesis, who did a hell of a lot of damage before the previous Sailor Aeolus (Aeris’ mother) faced her down.  The explosion that ended the fight ended Nemesis, and the common belief was that it ended Aeolus as well.  And since her family was nearby, they thought they had all died as well.  Aeolus took her family and hide them in order to protect them because of this, and the general idea was that the power of Aeolus was lost.

And yet, no one really thought much about the fact that this girl who was around Aeris’ age shows up at the Academy with the power of Aeolus, go figure.  They really just thought the power transferred to her instead of simply being reborn.  Erin (Erin being the nickname her commoner father gave her when she was born) is actually unremarkable as far as students are concerned – she’s a model student, sure, but she’s honestly just another face in the crowd to most people.  At least until it’s discovered she’s the lost princess of Aeolus.  For some odd reason, despite just having the power of Wind, Aeolus is considered extremely powerful and people want her power.  Doubly so with the Millennium Crystal.

Sailor Gaios/Terra Fitz – I think it’s funny how this character is now required to be dark skinned, no matter what form it is.  ;P  I like her eyeliner, and I have no idea why I gave it to her, lol.

So Terra is Erin’s best friend/roommate.  They started at the Academy at the same time, and have been together ever since.  Terra actually comes from a species that’s, like, 75% women, which, of course, changed the gender dynamic.  Since there’s so few men, no one really settles down with them because they need to be available to, you know, continue the species and all that.  Most couples are lesbian, obviously.

Terra comes from a different sort of family.  Her parents settles together, and even had another child.  Full blooded siblings are highly unusual.  As such, Terra’s upbringing was different than most of her people, and while she’s definitely a tomboy, she’s not exactly one-of-the-guys, either.  Mostly, this is important just because the previous Gaius was her aunt rather than her mother.  Her aunt never had any children, which is why the power went to her instead.

Terra is fiercely loyal to Erin, and people always think she has a crush on the redhead, but they’re really just BFFs.  Due to her tomboy nature, Terra is very hands on with combat, and is a bit of a tank in the group.

Aegir/Nereus Knight/Seamus Triteia/Patrick McHaley – Yeah, he’s got a lot of names.  >.<    But I guess it makes sense considering it’s the only male and he’s a villain hiding amongst the heroes.  Sorta.  

So before the attack on Aeolus, there was an uprising on Nereus that ended up displacing the Nereis royal family on Aeolus.  Seamus and Aeris basically grew up together because of this, resulting in them becoming super close.  However, when Aeolus was attacked, Seamus was captured and brought to the evil people in order to be brainwashed into helping them.

A little spoiler alert, but the brainwashing actually didn’t take full effect. He just sort of acts like it did because it makes his life a little easier. He developed a dark form of his power and took on the name Aegir, and fights alongside the villains for a while. However, they decided to have him infiltrate the Academy, and he took on the alias Patrick McHaley.  (Due to the fact that Nereids don’t believe in marriage, no one actually knows who Seamus’ father actually is, except for Seamus and his mother, so he adapts his father’s surname as his alias.)  

While at the Academy, he ends up becoming really close with Erin (of course), and decides to join her even before it’s revealed that she is actually his first love.  When he gains his own Millennium Crystal, it wipes away the evil form and reveals him to be Nereus Knight.  Except, like I said, he was never evil to begin with, so…yeah.  

Sailor Helios/Angelia De Helios – I really could have given her a more ‘alien’ form, but I figured I needed to separate her from Aerona, sadly.  

Sadly, I don’t have that much on the last members of the team.  She’s bubbly and happy and optimistic.  The only bit of drama she has going for her is the fact that her sister disappeared some time ago, and she’s been searching for her off and on when she can.  

Sailor Aethos/Sunny Colours – I really love Sunny’s design.  I think it’s funny I took the Iris name from her, but still gave her the rainbow hair, go figure.  But hey, she’s a soldier of light, and like refracts and it still totally works!  I really like her civilian outfit.  While it was stolen from someone else, I might have to find a use for it elsewhere…well, in this form, to be precise.  ^^;

Sunny probably has the most normal life.  Her sister doesn’t care for her very much, but otherwise, no much has happened in her life other than her becoming Sailor Aethos.  She enjoys being the guardian of her planet, and I believe her claim to fame is the fact that she’s the first to get a Millennium Crystal.

Sailor Erebus/Melody Draga- Melody is Erin’s cousin through her mother/Erin’s father.  Which is impressive, since her father is, like, 1000 years old.  Basically, her parents met because Seren has business on Aeolus, and Amelia was visiting her brother, and sort of caught the eye of Seren briefly.  They had a bit of fun which resulted in Amelia becoming pregnant and Seren bringing her back to Erebus with him.

Except she was one of many concubines/wives.  Melody was raised sort of separated from the rest of her half-siblings, although her father did care for her.  But she was a Halfling and the child of a commoner, so she was looked down upon.  So everyone was surprised when it turned out to be her that inherited the Erebus power.  

Melody is actually the only one who knows Erin’s true identity, but that’s mostly because she guessed/knew of Aeris’ nickname.  Aeris was pretty much her only friend growing up until her ‘death’, so she and Erin became really close at the Academy.  She’s also the second one to gain her Millennium Crystal.

Sailor Thanatos/Alex Lea – It’s sort of obvious that I based her hair off the Earthia Thanatians. I just thought it would be funny.  But I differentiated them by giving her normal skin.

Thanatos was an unknown member of the team until very recently.  They hadn’t known about the Academy or the other members for, like, ever, so the previous Thanatos’ have just sort of been winging it. They were rather surprised to learn they were actually a part of a team and very eager to send Alex off to the Academy to meet them.

The previous Thanatos is Alex’s grandmother, since the power skipped a generation.  She actually joined the Academy at the very start of the story, which is why her first form is a lot older than the others.  She hadn’t figured out her second form yet, but she figures it out very quickly with the help of the others.  She generally feels out of place because she hasn’t been around the whole time, but the others are very exciting to have her around and love being with her, and are very welcoming.

Sailor Nemesis/Topaz – Ugh, I love this design!  It absolutely sucks that she’s a villain.  >.<  Don’t ask me why I gave her species horns while trying to make everyone human-eque. I just thought it’d look cool.

So, obviously, Topaz lost her mother in the attack on Aeolus, and she one hundred percent blames Erin for this fact since she’s the one who now holds the power her mother sought.  Her entire reason for being is to get revenge for her mother’s death, which is one reason she sends Aegir to the Academy to get dirt on her.

She’s also completely in love with Seamus, which is one of many reasons he was abducted in the first place.  He obviously shows no feelings for her, since he’s always been in love with Aeris, but that doesn’t stop her from acting like they’re destined.  

She’s actually a very competent villain, but once Aeolus started to get involved in her schemes, she’s started to get a little sloppy, which is why, of course, the guardians are always able to get the upper hand over her.  I was thinking about giving her a Millennium form as well, but decided to keep that to be something only Aeolus and her team can achieve.

Sailor Eris/Morrisa de Helios – Again, I love this design sheet, and hate that the best designs are being used for the villains, lol.  This one has the best concept to boot.

So, obviously, Eris is Helios’ lost sister.  Basically, she was rather angry about the fact that her younger sister is the one who inherited the Helios power, and ran away.  She ended up coming across the previous Eris over there, who decided to bestow the power to her.

See, while the other powers are always inherited, usually between family members, the Eris power is always given.  It’s the reason why her secondary color is different from the previous form. Morrisa sort of hates playing second fiddle to Topaz, but she also doesn’t mind because she considers Topaz a close friend.

(I got a laugh at the thought of Topaz making them have sort of matching dressed and then wear the same shoes because she 100% would do something like that.)

Morrisa isn’t necessarily a bad person, just misguided and a little vengeful, which is why she works well with Topaz.  She’s not a huge fan of Aegir, but tolerates him for the most part, but feels hurt when he does got and betray him, since he was just always…there.)  Oh, and she does care for her little sister, which makes her missions interesting when she’s around.  

I was enjoying thinking about this story and was actually considering maybe doing a fan-fic for NaNo this year, lol.  But I figure I might as well toss up the designs somewhere rather than sitting on them for another three years, and it might as well be Tumblr, right? (Tumblr tends to keep the file size and not just have the shrinked version years later XD)

[that80sslytherinwrites]

Hi! Would you consider writing "dating Knox Overstreet would include" but the reader being a female exchange student at the school? Maybe it's her and a few of her classmates (only very few girls)? And the boys all thought it would be only boys exchange students? yk him being surprised etc?:)

Dating Knox Overstreet

Fem reader. School echange.

I did this as more of a story instead of just straight up headcanons

• You applied for a school exchange in your final year thinking it would be a good opportunity to meet new people and branch out a bit

• Only you and three other girls from you school got to go to Welton...ahem sorry Hellton

• You and your friends knew it was an all boys school...the boys there apparently did not realise the exchange students would be girls. They were shocked to say the least.

• Your first day was filled with a LOT of stares, so when a certain brown haired softie laid eyes on you, you hardly noticed.

• The day Knox saw you for the first time he knew he had to know you (because this boy falls hard and fast)

• Knox, although not the shyest of the DPS gang, had a difficult time trying to approach you. Since many of the guys in that school are so deprived of female interaction to say you and your friends were stormed is an understatement. He wanted to make a good impression...unlike Charlie who was flirting like there was no tomorrow

• It took nearly a month and a half for the the shock to die and the boys to start acting semi-normal around you and your friends

• After you four were left alone more was when you startes to notice Knox, coincedently, he sat near you in a few of your classes and you often caught him looking in your direction

• He was fairly attractive and sweet but you two hadn't spoken a whole lot, but Knox was determined to get to know you

• So, one day when you were studying in the library he plopped himself down next to you at the table

"Hi, I'm Knox Overstreet"

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n"

"I know"

• You spoke of your classes because he couldn't come up with any else to talk about with you. It was endearing how hard he tried to keep the conversation about school going for over an hour, but then it was dinner time

"Want to sit with my friends and I?" You asked as you packed up your school supplies to head to dinner

He agreed.

• After that dinner you and Knox felt decently comfortable around each other despite the fact he was now starting to enter many of your thoughts

• You and one of your friends joined the dead poets society when Knox invited you along one night. Your friend, who was your roommate, couldn't resist a late night adventure

• Once you joined the DPS you became friends with most of the group and you started hanging out with them just as much as your female friends

• It took several more weeks before Knox asked you out...it was a sunny autumn day in late November and you were sitting outside bundled up in your huge winter coat. Knox saw you from a window inside and ignored the teases of his friends when he grabbed his coat and wandered outside to where you were.

"Hey."

"Oh hi."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Not that much."

• If asked Knox would have blamed it on the chilly weather but he snuggled right up next to you where you were sitting. You sat out there and chatted until your hands and cheeks were numb. And as you were heading back inside

"I like you," he said, glancing sideways at you.

• After that day you two were essentially together but not everyone really noticed because Knox throwing his arm around your shoulders or leaning into you was typical

• Knox loves PDA but not like kissing in public etc. He loves being physically connectes to you

• If took nearly two weeks before Charlie asked if you two were dating. His logic, you were holding hands, which wasn't the worst logic. Holding hands was a new thing that started after his confession and you two started dating but it wasn't exactly out of character

• After that the gang of dead poets knew you were dating

• Knox wanted to kiss you the moment you told him you liked him as well but he held off. Your first kiss with Knox happened late at night when you were hanging out in his room. You were alone, but the DPS don't knock so they could have walked in. You were sitting on his bed facing each other and talking when during a break in the conversation he just leaned over to you and pressed his lips to yours

• Knox hadn't kissed anyone before (at least that's what I think). So to say he was nervous was unnecessary. But his kiss was gentle, barely touching your lips and his hands were hovering by you face and waist. You presses your lips to his harder than he had done to you and moved close to him so his hands were touching you where they had been hovering seconds earlier.

• Kissing Knox was like pausing time. He was always so gentle and careful with you and it was slow (at first at least)

• Knox is probably up for cuddling, especially when it's cold in the DPS cave

• Studying with him is not the best idea. You saw how he was in the movie when he met Chris, that boy cannot focus around you although I will say he does get better

• Not going to pretend he hasn't written poems about you for English or just for fun

• Being great friends with the rest of the DPS gang meant Knox on occassion got jealous. He's not a super jealous guy but if you get really comfortable with Charlie and goof off with him we're not going to pretend it doesn't bother him. But he's not obviosmus about it, though he will likely try and get his arm around you or when you leave he'll be a little clingy

• Knox and you are one of like the only couples at Welton so trying to keep your relationship on the down low doesn't really happen because it's so glaringly obvious

• But you two are happy

• Knox is sweet and caring and you adore him

[nalgenewhore]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Eight

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings: angst, cemetery

an: ummm u kno wut, maybe it is not actually fun, fresh, or cool! maybe it is in fact not fun, stale, and warm? anyhoozles. 

The rolling hills, bright with vibrant green grass and dotted with squares of various rocks, went on forever. It was silent - a respectful quiet for what everyone went there for. 

Lorcan carried a subdued Kohana, who held his favourite stuffed hippo - named Robert - tightly in one hand and sucked on his thumb. It was an old habit that seldom arose. Father and son recognized some of the regulars they shared this day with. Son chose to hide his face in his father’s shoulder while father nodded a tight greeting, grief clear in the lines of his body. 

A short while later, Lorcan set Kohana down and they walked hand in hand through the neat rows of meticulously cared for headstones until they reached a black stone one, a bouquet of dark red peonies already resting atop of it. 

That was something that Lorcan had liked when he was… researching cemeteries. What a cruel and twisted thing, so morbid. But Lorcan had liked this one. They cleaned the headstones all once a week and left a bouquet of flowers on them when the anniversaries came along. She had always loved peonies, loved how fluffy they were. Her absolute favourites were the tiare blossoms of her home, but the tropical blooms were rare in the cold climate of northern Terrasen. 

Kohana dropped Lorcan’s hand and ran the last few steps, sitting down cross-legged on the plush grass. Lorcan remained a little while away, turning around so Kohana could have his own time. 

His ears picked up the melodic tongue of her home that tumbled so effortlessly from their son’s mouth. Lorcan wanted to cry, so unbelievably thankful for his son - for having the ability to speak that language. Both of theirs. It was a blessing, truly. Eventually, Kohana came running back, telling Lorcan he was going to go exploring. 

He began to roam, not too far and always in sight after Lorcan told him to keep off the other headstones. It took a deep breath and the feeling of his wedding band on his left hand for Lorcan to take those last few steps and sit down, picking at the grass. 

He didn’t say a word for a long time, just reading the engravings. 

August 30, 1995 - October 15, 2016

Beloved Mother. Wife. Sister. Friend. 

Her entire life, twenty-one years summed up in five fucking words. 

Lorcan’s eyes welled up and he reached his hand out, tracing her name. Essar Tangaroa. 

With a smile, his tears spilling down his cheeks, he whispered, in his less-than perfect Bogdano, “Hey, babe. I miss you.” He sniffed, looking down at his hands. “Ko misses you too. So do Fen, Con, V, Ro… Mia too. Everyone. Emrys made your favourites.” He pulled out a pastry bag from the canvas tote he’d brought, filled with things to occupy their child. “Oatmeal raisin. Still don’t get how on earth you like oatmeal and raisin, but I guess that’ll be one of life’s many mysteries, huh?” 

He caught her up on everything, stumbling when he got to the topic of Elide. Turning his wet eyes to the skies, Lorcan said, “I know you’re laughing right now. You’ve always delighted in my misery. You’d like her and I bet you’re insanely jealous she slept with my dumb ass cause she’s completely your type.” Lorcan laughed and almost ducked to avoid the hand Essar would’ve no doubt slapped upside his head, but it didn’t come. 

That sobered him and he straightened, tears still steadily falling. “She’s really good for Ko. And Esther, that girl is the best. Still the same bubbly little kid she always was. She and Ko are ‘bestest friends ever’. Oh, you know what’s the fucking weirdest shit ever?” Nobody replied and Lorcan wasn’t sure if he’d been waiting for it. “Rowan’s dating this girl named Aelin - perfect for each other and I hate it when they’re happy but whatever - and guess who her sister is? Yeah, fucking Elide!” 

“Até! Bad word! No bad words,” scolded Kohana, frowning fiercely as he stomped over and sat himself in Lorcan’s lap, in the cradle Lorcan’s criss-cross-applesauce legs made. “Hi, Mama. I would like you to come back, please.” Kohana’s voice wavered and he sniffled. “Please, come back. I want my mama back.” 

The lump regrew in Lorcan’s throat and he used every gram of willpower in his body, willing himself not to cry as Kohana started to, his small frame shaking with the force of it. Lorcan could only discern ‘come back’ through Kohana’s sobs and he hugged the little one closer, feeling his child turn in his arms and cry into his hoodie. “I just want mama back.” 

“I know, baby.” He kissed the top of Ko’s head, rubbing his back as he quieted, only hiccupping now. 

“Mama’s never coming back.” It was a statement, just a fact. “I don’t like that.” 

Lorcan found it in himself to smile, whispering, “I don’t like it either.” 

They remained there for a while, eventually joined by a handful of people. Dresenda walked up, taking Kohana into her arms. Lorcan watched them interact, watched his son’s eyes grow misty and watched as he ran back to Lorcan, asking if they could go now. He said yes, waiting as Kohana said good-bye to Essar. 

Kohana turned and waved shyly, then he turned back to Lorcan and away they went. The five-year old was passed out by the time Lorcan had carried him to the truck and buckled him in. Lorcan drove in silence away from the cemetery, making his way back to the main roads and away, hating that it felt like every time he came here that he was leaving a new shred of his heart with her. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The bell for lunch rang and Elide herded her little students to the cubby room, telling them that even though it was sunny today, it was still a bit chilly and they needed to grab their jackets and coats. 

Esther needed help tugging her wool sweater over her curly-haired head but other than that, everyone was ready to go. Despite the absence of Kohana, his bestest friend seemed to be in a relatively alright mood as she raced outside with a good-bye shouted over her shoulder. The others quickly followed her, all clambering to be first outside. 

Sighing, Elide turned back to get her phone as Nehemia popped her head inside. “Ready for lunch?” 

“You know it,” Elide replied, getting her long wool coat and slipping her arms through the sleeves. “Where do you want to eat?” 

The school that they worked at was located in a quiet pocket of downtown Orynth, which meant that they had plenty of options within walking distance. Nehemia hummed in consideration, “I don’t know, I’m really craving something hot. Maybe a sandwich too.” 

“Ooh, that sounds good,” Elide said, shivering slightly as they walked outside and were hit with a gust of chilly wind. “Do you want to just go to the cafe, then?” 

Nehemia nodded, waving at a few of her students, “Yeah, that sounds good.” She looped her arm through Elide’s and tucked herself in closer. “Gods, it’s freezing.” 

Elide laughed, “It’s barely even fall, Mia. You’ve lived here for years, how are you not used to it!” 

“I’m a delicate Eyllwe blossom, I can’t be out here in this weather,” Nehemia pouted. 

“Yeah, you need your big strong man to warm you up.”

Nehemia wiggled her brows, smiling wickedly, “Oh, in more ways than one, my dearest.” She cackled as Elide made a face and shook her head. 

“I really walked right into that one,” she grumbled, her face changing into a smile as she waved at Esther, who was occupying herself on the swings, going higher and faster with every pass. 

“No Kohana today? Poor Esther,” Nehemia commented, catching the way Elide’s face fell. “What happened? Did you sleep with Lorcan again?” she joked, nudging Elide with her elbow. When Elide didn’t answer, Nehemia gasped, “You did?” 

Elide shook her head, “No, but we kissed. In the gods-damned cubby.” 

“When?” 

“Last night. After the Parent-Teacher thing.” Elide rested her head on Nehemia’s shoulder. “I stopped it.” 

“But you didn’t want to.” 

“No, I didn’t want to.” They walked out of the school grounds, making their way down the sidewalk. “It… it just feels like we should’ve been more. I walked out and he walked out and it felt so… ordinary.” If she wanted any ending, it was harsh words and anger, after something long and true. Screaming, tears - anything was better than the two of them letting go.

Nehemia gave her a snug hug, “I’m sorry. But are you sure that was your ending? What’s stopping you from going for it?” 

“Everything. We just can’t.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It was getting late and Kohana was barely awake. Lorcan pushed the plate of cut up pancakes his way, “C’mon, just five bites, ok?” 

Kohana sighed and put Robert, his stuffed hippo, to the side. “Ok, Dad.” Dresenda, sitting beside him in the corner booth, chuckled and wisely ate her own waffles, knowing Kohana would be quick to glare at her uneaten food. Kid’s got the best glare in the game, a fierce and menacing frown that no one would expect from such a sweetie. 

They were sitting in an old diner, one they’d gone to for years - just Lorcan and Essar, and eventually Kohana too. They’d had a busy day after going to see Essar at around noon, then going to the beach where Kohana hunted for treasure. Dresenda had met up with them again, red-eyed as she played with Kohana and sat in silence with Lorcan. 

Kohana munched on steadily, finishing his five bites before shoving the plate away. “Done. All done.” 

The two adults smiled and Dresenda gave him a high five, “Good job, kiddo.” Kohana giggled and babbled on as the adults finished their food, picking up Robert and playing around with him while Lorcan went to pay. 

Kohana and Dresenda walked up to wait at the counter beside Lorcan as he settled the tab. “Ready to go home, até,” Kohana said sleepily, hugging his stuffy to his side with one arm as he rubbed his big brown eyes with his other fist. 

Lorcan chuckled and picked him up, propping him on his side. “Yeah, you had a big day today, huh?” 

Nodding, Kohana rested his cheek on Lorcan’s shoulder and waved good-bye to Dresenda. “Bye-bye, Dee-Dee.” 

“See ya, kid,” she quipped, giving a two-fingered salute as she walked out to her motorcycle and shortly after drove off into the night. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“No no no,” Elide whined as her car started sputtering. “C’mon, girlie, we’re so close to home!” They weren’t - she’d gone to the good night market after her friend from college, Asterin, had called her during a twelve-hour layover on her way home to the Witch City. They’d gotten food from the stalls and spent a few hours catching up before parting ways. 

It seemed her pleas weren’t enough and she turned her blinkers on as she turned onto the shoulder of the highway, cursing herself in Blackbeak. She sighed and waited until it was safe to get out of her car, walking to the trunk to get her toolkit. 

She walked back to the engine and leaned through her open window, popping the pedal for the hood. Rolling up her sleeves, she lifted the hood and put her hands on her hips, staring down at the engine. “Alright, Bets. What’s wrong?” 

Elide felt a wave of heat coming off the engine, as well as a puff of steam, greater than it would normally be. She groaned in frustration and put her hair up, knowing it was the coolant reservoir leaking again. 

With an old car like hers, it cracked a lot and Elide had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to patch it up and get on with it. “Oh, fuck it all!” she yelled, remembering that the only mechanic she knew was Lorcan. “I am not happy with you,” Elide hissed at her car, narrowing her eyes as she unzipped her toolkit and took out a pair of pliers to switch off the battery. “Don’t want to get electrocuted today, no sir.” 

Elide got to work, making do with what she could just so she could get home. It was a Friday, which meant she would have the whole day tomorrow to bring Betsy in to the mechanic’s. 

She was humming a song she’d been using in her classroom to teach boundaries, physical and otherwise - she couldn’t help it, they were ridiculously catchy, when a truck pulled off to the side. Elide froze, subtly grabbing the heaviest wrench she could and stepping out beside the driver’s door, just so she wouldn’t be caged in with nowhere to go. A hulking figure climbed out of the truck, “Hey. You ok?” 

Oh, fuck it all. No, there was no way this was real right now. Elide scowled up at the skies, asking her gods, What did I do to deserve this? “Hi, Lorcan.” 

He stopped, a hand lifting up to rub his brow, “Elide?” 

“Yep. Coolant reservoir gave out again,” she said while gesturing with her wrench towards her car. Lorcan raised a brow at the too-large tool, approaching warily. Elide huffed a laugh, “I didn’t know who you were and I can’t take any chances. You know, being a woman and all.” 

“I fucking hate men,” he said under his breath. “D’you mind if I take a look?” 

“Please, be my guest,” she said, moving out of the way so he could see. Lorcan nodded and rolled up his sleeves and her mouth definitely did not water at the sight of his sinewy forearms, bronze skin marked with black tribal ink. 

Elide leaned back against her door and crossed her arms, trying so hard to not blurt out why Kohana hadn’t been at school and why he hadn’t said a thing. Lorcan tinkered around for a few minutes and then stood up, wiping his hands on the rag she passed him. “I don’t think you should drive… Betsy, that’s her name, right?” 

Laughing, Elide nodded and he smiled, “Ok, so, it’s not safe for you to drive her home, from the looks of it it’s been leaking for a while. I can, um, I can give you a ride home if you want.” 

“Oh. Ok. Yeah, that’d be great,” she said, slowly packing up her things and grabbing her purse and keys. 

“I’ll get the tow truck out here tomorrow and you can pop over tomorrow.” 

“Perfect.” It was really anything but, but she could handle a half hour ride in an enclosed vehicle with him, right? That was a silly question, of course she could. She was an adult, so was he, they could be professional. 

Lorcan led the way to his truck and, like a perfect gentleman, opened and closed her door for her. Elide looked around and saw Kohana seated in a booster seat, head rolled to the side as he slept. She had a feeling the only thing that was keeping him from falling to the floor was the seatbelt. He was so cute, his chubby cheeks rosy, his thick lashes brushing against his face. 

Lorcan swung himself into his seat and turned the car on with his right hand, using his left to grab his seatbelt and click it into space. A flash of silver caught her attention and she turned her gaze to his left hand, noticing he was wearing a silver band on his ring finger. Elide remembered that band, recalled how it had hung from a chain during their one-night tryst. 

He must’ve felt her staring as he let a car pass before pulling back onto the road. “Is there something wrong?” 

Elide felt her cheeks flush at being caught and shook her head, “No, no, it’s, um, you didn’t wear your… ring. Before, you wore it on a chain.”

Stiffening slightly, Lorcan nodded, tight-lipped. “Yeah, I wear it on the anniversary. Of my wife’s passing.” He didn’t offer anymore than that and Elide felt her stomach drop. She shouldn’t have said anything. As if sensing that she was looking for a way to shove her foot in her mouth, Lorcan spoke again, “That’s why Ko wasn’t at school today - I told the office, but I guess they didn’t tell you?” 

“No, they- they didn’t. I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, offering condolences. She knew how those words sounded, had heard them so often in the years following her parents’ death but… she truly meant them. “Really, I know how those words sound, but I mean them. No one deserves pain like that.” 

They looked at each other, like recognizing like. A soft snort interrupted the moment and they both looked into the back, where Kohana was slowly waking up. He blinked, rubbing his wide eyes with his fist. Kohana startled when he saw Elide and smiled shyly, “Hi-hi.” 

“Hey, Kohana. It’s nice to see you,” she said, waving at him. “How are you?” 

“Sleepy,” he yawned, grabbing what appeared to be a stuffed hippopotamus. “This is Robert. He my hippo-po.” 

Elide chuckled, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Robert. Did you guys have a good day today?” 

Kohana nodded slowly, his face growing sad, “Yup. Saw mama and auntie D and went to the beach. I hunted-ed for treasure.” 

“Oh, wow, really? What did you find?” 

“No treasure, but I sawed a jellyfish. Dad told me it was a moon one. It looked like see-through jello,” he told her, yawning once again. “Then we had pancakes at the diner.” 

“Pancakes? I’m more of a waffles gal myself.” 

“Dad too. He doesn’t like pancakes.” His eyes drooped and his head bobbed. Slowly, Kohana fell asleep again and snored gently. 

Lorcan looked in the rearview mirror and smiled at the sight, asking Elide quietly, “So, what’s your address?” 

“Oh, no, you should get Kohana to bed first. I can just get a cab or something from your place - it’s really no problem,” Elide insisted. Lorcan hesitated, but then he glanced back at Kohana and relented. 

“Thanks, he’s had a full day,” he said, turning onto the exit and then to the street that would take them to his neighbourhood. 

They fall into a semi-comfortable silence, listening to the radio. It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a quaint, two storey house. It had a porch that went along half of the front and wrapped onto the right side. The other half of the front was taken up by large bay windows and most of the other sides of the house had huge windows, no doubt letting the sun and natural light just spill in. 

The yard was a decent size and well maintained, a gorgeous garden with every flower imaginable beneath the bay windows, a trellis with jasmine, she assumed, snaking up between the windows and the porch.

Elide climbed out of the truck and waited while Lorcan carefully gathered Kohana up in his arms, carrying the sleeping child up the front stairs. Kohana woke up and wiggled to be put down once they reached the front door. Lorcan unlocked the door and Kohana pushed it open, carefully taking off his shoes before running off inside to the open-floored area as Lorcan paused, turning to Elide. “Do you want… a drink or something?” 

“Oh, sure. That’d be nice,” she said, nodding as Lorcan ushered her in. Elide took in her surroundings, the stairway directly to her right that went up and then turned to the left, disappearing to the next floor. She slipped off her shoes and looked at the living room and kitchen, taking in the lived-in space. It was cozy and warm here. 

Kohana came pattering back, precariously holding a fluffy cat under its arms. The cat seemed to resentfully accept its fate and looked to Elide with a deadened expression. “Oh, um, hi! Who’s this, Kohana?” 

“Tigger! He’s my kitty! Dad doesn’t like Tigger and Tigger doesn’t like Dad,” he informed her, bending his head down to kiss the top of Tigger’s head. “He was my mama’s kitty.” 

Elide chuckled and approached the duo, “You know, I’m more of a dog person myself. But I love kitties as well.” She reached out and softly petted Tigger’s head. “What a nice kitty.” 

Kohana nodded and smiled brightly, his cheeks dimpling. “He’s my bestest friend.” Elide smiled and startled as Kohana’s eyes widened and his mouth popped open. “Oh, no! No, Essie’s my bestest friend. Don’t tell her I said that, ok?” 

Elide nodded seriously, “I promise.” 

Kohana looked at her warily, shifting the cat to one arm. Good gods, Elide had to stifle the urge to take the cat away from him, Tigger looked like he was begging her for help. “Pinky promise?” Kohana asked, holding his pinky up.

Elide chuckled again and hooked her pinky around his, “Pinky promise, I won’t tell Esther.” 

Lorcan, who had been watching the exchange with something fond and soft in his eyes, cut in, “Prince, why don’t you go put Tigger down and go get your PJ’s on, yeah?” 

“Kay-Kay, até,” Kohana said, smiling sweetly before turning and speeding away to put Tigger down on one of the armchairs. They matched the black leather couch and were situated before the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. 

“He’s so cute,” Elide said, toying with the butterfly pendant on her necklace. Lorcan smiled, a genuine smile, and ducked his head. 

“Thanks. He’s honestly my favourite person alive,” Lorcan said and they both walked in further, their arms bumping as they both moved at the same time. Elide let him go first and trailed behind him. The little one pushed past them on his way up to his room, going as quickly as he could. 

Lorcan motioned for her to seat herself at the island bar as he went to the cupboard and got two glasses. “What can I get you?” 

“Water’s fine,” she said, clasping her hands on the butcher block countertop. Lorcan nodded and opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of cold water, filling her glass to halfway and placing it before her. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he said, nodding once before he walked away. 

Elide took her glass and stepped onto the floor, looking to snoop around. Her eyes went to the fireplace mantle, trailing over the framed photos. Most of them were of Kohana and Lorcan, as well as a smiling woman. Elide recognized the ta moko*  marking her lips and chin, the traditional body art of the Bogdano people.

She had the same light brown eyes as Kohana did and Lorcan always seemed to look at her with an awed expression. Utterly beautiful, she was a petite, raven-haired beauty with warm brown skin. She seemed like the sun incarnate. 

Her attention was locked on one photo of the woman - her brow furrowed in concentration as she cut a wave in two, more traditional ink marking her outstretched arms, looking one with the sapphire blue waters on top of her board when two little feet padded down the stairs. “Elide?” 

She turned and smiled at Kohana, “Hi, Kohana. I was looking at the pictures. Is this your mom?” 

Kohana smiled brightly and nodded, running over to her side. “Yeah, that’s my momma.” He sat down on the thick carpet in front of the TV, opening the cupboard and dragging out a thick photo album. “More pit-churs in here. Come-come, sit-sit.” 

Elide obliged him and sat down cross-legged next to him as he opened the album on his stretched out legs. “See, this is my kōkara. She’s not here anymore but she misses me and loves me very much, you know.” 

She nodded, smiling as he gushed about his mother, pointing to all of the pictures. He talked and talked, until they had flipped to the last page, where there was a photo of Lorcan and the same sunshiny woman. Lorcan was carrying her on his back and she had her arms raised, her face tilted to the sun as she smiled. Lorcan was smiling too, his eyes crinkled against the sun. 

“Mama’s favourite colour is blue, like the Oro sea. That’s where she did surfing,” Kohana told her, carefully closing the album and putting it away. He stood up, picking at the hem of his pajamas. They were pale blue with otters on them. “I miss my mama.” 

Elide stood as well and grabbed her left wrist, rubbing her thumb over the raven tattoo she’d gotten for her mother. “I miss my mama too.” She felt someone’s gaze on her and turned around, spotting Lorcan leaning against the bookshelf, looking at her with something too heavy for her so she looked away. She’d never seen someone’s eyes hold that much depthless sadness. 

She suddenly found the wood grain of the mantle very interesting as Lorcan said, “Ko, you ready for bed?” 

“Yup!” Kohana ran off to Lorcan, launching himself into his father’s arms. “Night-night, Elide.” 

That had her turning and offering what she hoped was a gentle smile. Off of her student’s confused expression, it was anything but. “Goodnight, Kohana. It’s pretty late, I should go.” 

“Dad,” Kohana whispered, only it was way too loud and Elide graciously pretended she couldn’t hear him. “Can we have a sleepover? Like with Essie!” 

It was out of her control when her head snapped up and Lorcan stiffened, looking at her dead in the eyes as he swallowed and said, his voice ragged, “No, Elide’s gonna sleep at her house. We’ll see her tomorrow, for her car, ok?” 

“Oh. Ok. Bye-bye, Elide.” 

“Bye, Kohana. Thank you for showing me,” Elide lamely gestured towards the closed cupboard and the photo album behind it. “It was nice.” 

Kohana smiled, unaware of the awkwardness settling over them. Elide had never been more keenly aware of the amount of distance between her and another human. “See you tomorrow.” 

She repeated the phrase as Lorcan carried him upstairs and Elide moved to the front door, quickly grabbing her things, putting on her jacket and slipping out the door after putting her shoes on. She couldn’t… she couldn’t deal with saying good-bye to Lorcan, for the umpteenth time. Every time she said it, he was shoved back into her life and this burgeoning feeling of friendly familiarity couldn’t happen anymore. 

Lorcan was the parent of her student. Lorcan was her sister’s boyfriend’s brother. Lorcan was her mechanic. Lorcan was the guy she’d had a one night stand with. Emphasis on one night. 

They were not friends, they were not lovers, they were nothing more than acquaintances. 

Elide wiped away tears as she latched the front gate shut behind her and cursed herself for them. They were barely together. Nothing they did merited her tears. Or anyone’s, for that matter. 

She was walking down the sidewalk when she heard a low voice call her name. “Elide.” 

Despite the voice in her head that was telling her to keep her head down and keep walking, Elide turned, seeing Lorcan standing at the top of his front steps. “Yes?” Something akin to grief rippled through his dark irises and he swallowed once.

“Her name was Essar.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: *Ta Moko is the traditional tattooing of the Maori people! You can learn more here and here and here (video) 

@mythicaitt​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​ @schmlip-scribble​ @the-regal-warrior​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @thesirenwashere​ @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @empress-ofbloodshed @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books @beccasophia95 @exersize-me-i-dare-u @thewayshedreamed @hizqueen4life @ifinallygavein @bat-wing-rhys @awkward-avocado-s @b00kworm @mu-si-ca-l @lovemollywho @tacmc @soitsgorgeous @staarligght

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

the last great american dynasty

Part of my folklore series

Summary: Blaine’s got a big ol’ crush and can’t take his eyes off of Kurt despite the other singers performing

Notes: for the purposes of this story we’re assuming this song existed while they were still in high school

AO3

Blaine loved watching the weekly assignments in the choir room. Everyone in New Directions was extremely talented. Unlike, Mr. Schue Blaine tried to not pick favorites unless it was a competition week. But when it came to Kurt Hummel, Blaine saw no one except him.

He was sitting next to his best friend, Sam when some of the girls and Kurt got up to perform together. Personally, Blaine preferred when Kurt sang solos because he didn’t have to worry about focusing on the other people singing. It was the perfect excuse to have all of his attention on Kurt. No one but Sam and Mike would tease him about it.

Then, Santana opened her mouth to sing. Blaine couldn’t help but focus on her.

“Rebekah rode up on the afternoon train, it was sunny Her saltbox house on the coast took her mind off St. Louis Bill was the heir to the Standard Oil name, and money”

Quinn, Brittany, and Santana all raised a hand to the side of their mouth as if whispering the next line together: “And the town said ‘How did a middle-class divorcée do it?’”

Quinn picked up the next verse alone with Brittany and Santana harmonizing behind her.

“The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it ‘Holiday House’”

The trio, took a step back to join the rest of the group, pushing Tina front and center. Tina smiled at Quinn briefly before singing the next half of the verse.  

“Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out And they said ‘There goes the last great American dynasty’”

The entire group harmonized for part of the chorus. Blaine’s eyes drifted to Kurt as they tended to do.

“Who knows, if she never showed up what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything”

Then, Rachel took the spotlight for the next part. The group stood in a half-circle behind her, singing gentle backup vocals.

“Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all the Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí”

Again, the whole group sang the chorus.

“And they said "There goes the last great American dynasty" Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything”

Finally, the bridge came and Kurt started to sing. Was there a pair of more expressive eyes? Those bright baby blues made Blaine’s heart ache. What he wouldn’t give to have Kurt look at him, just for a second. A passing moment of Kurt’s attention would surely silence all of the doubtful voices in his head because with a happy memory of Kurt how could Blaine ever be upset again.

“They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness Their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me.”

The girls and Kurt were all singing together again to finish off the song but Blaine, as usual, only had eyes for Kurt.

“Who knows, if I never showed up what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything I had a marvelous time Ruining everything A marvelous time Ruining everything A marvelous time I had a marvelous time”

Sam had to nudge him when it was over. Mr. Schue started talking as the group took their seats. When glee was over, he asked Sam to fill him in. Truly, how could he focus on sectionals after that performance.

“I don’t get it, dude. They literally stood up and sang,” Sam said.

“He’s beautiful,” Blaine told him.

Kurt was standing at his locker just down the hall with Mercedes at his side. Packing up for the day. 

“Whatever,” Sam replied. “Are you coming to mine for video games?” 

Mercedes was waving goodbye to Kurt. 

“Um, I’ll get back to you.” 

Blaine quickly made his way down the hall. 

“Hey Kurt,” he said. 

Kurt froze and turned to look at him. 

“Oh, hi Blaine.” 

Then, he pulled the final book he needed from his locker and shut it. 

“I really loved your performance in glee today.” 

“Thanks.” 

That was it. Blaine didn’t have anything else to say to him. Nothing he could say without wanting the earth to engulf him. 

He stood there in silence for a minute too many because Kurt asked if there was something else. 

Blaine couldn’t let him walk away. He had to do something, say something. So, he blurted out: “can I buy you a coffee?” 

Instantly, he felt his cheeks warm but he forced himself to meet Kurt’s glaze. 

“Now?” 

Blaine nodded. “If you’re free.”

“I am.” 

Kurt offered to drive them to the Lima Bean since Blaine was paying. Without missing a beat, Blaine ordered for the both of them. 

“You know my coffee order?” 

Blaine blushed again. “Um…”

“How long have you wanted to ask me to coffee, Blaine?” Kurt asked. 

He seemed genuinely curious. Kurt wasn’t asking for an ego boost or to make fun of Blaine. 

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and murmured. 

“What was that?” Kurt questioned, “please don’t be embarrassed.” Kurt put a hand on Blaine’s back, comforting him. Blaine met his eyes. “I just wanted to know if you’ve liked me as long as I’ve liked you.”

Eyes wide and swallowing hard, Blaine managed to ask, “how long?” 

Kurt shrugged. “About two years.” 

The barista called their names. Blaine added a dash of cinnamon to his medium dip before following Kurt to a table. Giving himself a second to process the fact that Kurt had apparently like him for the last two years. More importantly that Kurt still liked him. 

Currently liked him. 

Blaine sat down across from him. 

“The moment you walked into the choir room,” Blaine said, “you introduced yourself just like the rest of us. As soon as I looked up at you, my heart pounded.” 

“Mine too.” 

Kurt was smiling at him. 

This was his moment. Blaine could remember this when he felt like the world was melting around him. When everyone was against him. 

Except when Blaine had imagined this happening, he hadn’t considered that Kurt wanted to give him more than just one moment. 

He could easily take up all of Blaine’s free time if only Blaine had asked earlier. “Then, let’s not waste any more time.” 

“Let’s not,” Kurt agreed. 

Blaine smiled as he took his first sip of coffee.

[tact-and-impulse]

With These Hands Chapter 11

Look, I say we’re ending 2020 with affection and fluff! Also, now that I know what it’s like working in a hospital, I can write this AU better, and this episode has heavy influence from my first night call shifts. For my fellow healthcare workers, because this was...a year. Here’s to staying safe in 2021!

The rest of this chapter is under the cut or on FF.net and AO3

Chapter 11: Endurance

Admittedly, Kenshin’s stomach dropped when he saw her. She was limp in her chair, arms dangling at her sides and her face turned away.

“Kaoru-dono?!” He rushed to her desk, panic overriding sensibility. But before he could touch her, her eyes snapped open and her right fist lashed out in a glancing blow that brought him to his knees. Acting on instinct, he latched onto the edge of her desk, elbow colliding with the hard surface. “Oro!”

At the contact, she blinked away her drowsiness. “Ken…shin? Oh, no! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” She sat up, her fingertips brushing his aching cheekbone. The pain was already fading, and he resisted leaning in.

“This one is fine. It was this one’s fault, surprising you.” He managed to answer. Despite how his skin was buzzing, he was not going to behave like a hormonal teenager.

“I still shouldn’t have punched you.” She withdrew, her voice full of concern. “I hope it won’t bruise.”

“There have been worse hits that this one has taken, so don’t worry.” And on that same side as well, he ruefully thought. “Are you still working?” It was already past seven.

“I’m on night call.” Her explanation contained no small amount of misery. “And I had a meeting in the afternoon, so I only got an hour of sleep before I came here. It’s going to be a long Thursday night; at least, I have the weekend off. What about you?”

“This one is also in the same situation, filling in for a colleague who was supposed to work tonight. There was a family emergency, so this one is here instead.”

“Oh, good. Not that you have to work on short notice,” She hastily added. “But we can keep each other company.”

“That’s true. It will be easier to stay awake.” He would have been content to stay at her desk; he had nothing urgent at the moment. But she did, as signaled by her blaring pager. She mouthed an apology, before taking the call. Leaving her to her responsibilities, he drifted back to his spot across the room, to print his list of patients.

***

He was reading the interim notes on his patients when she commented.

“By the way, I forgot to mention earlier. I like your scrubs.”

“Oro?” The faded magenta met his downward gaze. “These are very old.”

“But you look so cheerful! The other male doctors stick to blue or black.”

“So did this one, in the past. However, brighter colors can be comforting or distracting for the children, so that’s something this one can do for them.”

“You also can pull it off, because you’re an attending.” She pointed out, and he laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with navy either.”

“It’s not navy, it’s indigo.” Grinning, she tugged the front of her scrub top. “But it’s my favorite color.”

“It suits you very well.” Belatedly, he wondered if that was harassment, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she blushed. At the sight, his own face warmed.

“Thanks.�� For a heartbeat, the only sound was the humming of their computers. Abruptly stretching her arms over her head, she declared. “I need coffee. The cafeteria’s closed, but do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“This one can join you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy, and you can just text me.” They had already exchanged numbers, thanks to the group chat Misao had started for the workroom.

“No, it will be a long night and this one prefers not to stay in one spot.” He pocketed his pager and stood from his chair.

Her smile widened. “Yeah, I won’t argue with that. And I’m glad! It’s more fun with you.” Her blush had not faded, and his cheek tingled.

He replied honestly. “This one feels the same way.”

Unfortunately, the closest machine had its interior lights off and the glass front bore a paper sign. ‘Out of Order’ was written in large block letters, punctuated by a frowning face. If he had to guess, it appeared to be the handiwork of either Sano or Misao, perhaps even a joint effort.

“That’s a shame.” He said. “Should we search for another?”

“Sounds like a plan! Let’s hope the others are still functioning.”

Their workroom was at the injunction between the main building and the children’s hospital, so they had options. He allowed her to decide, and she headed for the pediatric side. She swiped her badge to access a corridor that was glass on both sides, from ceiling to floor.

“This part is one of the best, in my opinion. Well, at least during the day.” Outside, it was dark, except for the street lamps. Occasionally, a car zipped past on the road below, illuminating the surrounding greenery. But he understood her. When it was sunny, they were provided with a scenic view of the city beyond.

“Yes, it’s the closest we have to stepping out. It’s important to have something to look at, other than the interior of the building.”

“Right? I always feel more rejuvenated when I go through this way. Although, I do love the murals in the children’s hospital.”

“Which do you like best?”

“Hmm. I think the bamboo forest, on the sixth floor. The animals are cute, the pandas and the tanuki.”

“Also, because that is where shinai come from?” He innocently referred to her love for kenjutsu.

“Okay, a little bit.” But she laughed. “Well, which is your favorite?”

He already had an answer. “The fourth floor, with the countryside motif. It reminds this one of his childhood.”

“You were a country boy?”

“In the Kansai region, yes. However, it has been almost twenty years since this one lived there. This one doesn’t even remember the closest town. We did grow rice and vegetables, and there were some chickens.” He pieced together the fragmented memories. “But it was a very long time ago.”

“It must have, I couldn’t tell at all.” She was thoughtful, and he realized he might have shared too much. But she didn’t pry, instead asking. “Did you have any baby chicks?”

“Not that this one can remember.”

“That’s too bad.” Disappointment showed on her face.

He smiled. The image of Kaoru, cradling fluffy chicks in her arms, was sweet.

In a corner near an empty waiting area, they finally found a working vending machine. Kaoru cheered at its presence, peering within to decide on her snacks. She was terribly adorable, depositing her change and punching the buttons. Holding her coffee and a package of chocolate-covered biscuits, she beamed. “Alright, your turn!”

As she walked past, he caught the scent of jasmine flowers. Too subtle to be perfume, it must have been her shampoo. He thought it was pleasant.

“Kenshin? Aren’t you going to buy something?”

He jolted, realizing he hadn’t moved. “A-ah, yes.” Breathing deeply to settle his nerves, he chose a bottle of green tea, and the same cookies she picked. She had already opened her drink and sipped it as they walked back.

“Whew, I feel a lot better.”

“That’s good. You need your strength for the hours ahead.”

“Yeah. I still wish I had more sleep, but I just remind myself that at least, I’m not in one of the hospital beds. That was much harder.”

“And now, you’re here. Your patients are extremely fortunate to have you, because you understand what it must be like.”

Her blush had returned in full force. She nodded, before her brows drew together. “Wait-”

Overhead, the loudspeaker crackled, calling for a medical response team. They both stopped, listening attentively. The alert meant that a patient’s condition was deteriorating. He checked his list as the room number was announced. It did not belong to any of his charges, and judging from how Kaoru exhaled, it wasn’t any of hers either. But elsewhere, someone was struggling and their colleagues were doing everything they could to save them.

As they approached familiar walls, it was his pager’s turn to vibrate, and reluctantly, he excused himself.

***

After midnight, he had one emergency surgery, for a patient that had gone into hemorrhagic shock. Two hours later, he emerged from the operating room, the worst outcome kept at bay. He ordered for two units of blood, to be transfused if the patient was anemic, and headed back to the workroom.

Kaoru had her earbuds in, obviously engrossed. Upon his entrance, she removed them and greeted him. “Hey, Kenshin. How’d it go?”

“Well enough. The patient is stable for now, but this one will keep a close eye. Did you have any new admissions?”

“Just one in the emergency room, who’s waiting to be placed in a room, but it seems like a straightforward case. History of glycogen storage disorder, so I’ve been reading up.”

“This one didn’t realize articles were accessible on CD.” He had noticed the small player next to her keyboard, that had appeared in his absence.

“Oh, no, this is an audiobook. It’s an old one, I already know all the twists. I only replay it because of the narrator.” Her expression became very fond.

“Ah.” Inwardly, he was caught off guard, but he maintained a neutral face. “Is he a good actor?”

“I think she was. This book is one of my mother’s recordings, after all. Would you like to hear her?”

Somewhat embarrassed, he agreed, and she transferred the CD to her computer. Momentarily, a woman’s gentle voice filled the air. Her cadence and intonation were similar to Kaoru’s, and she switched between characters with impressive ease. It seemed to be an anthology of short stories.

“You were not wrong; her performance is wonderful.”

“I’m glad you think so! She’d be happy to hear that, if she were alive.” Kaoru clarified. “She had lupus, and she passed away from kidney failure when I was young. She couldn’t get a transplant in time. The Mirror Wing in the main hospital is named for her.” The dialysis unit was located there.

“You must miss her.”

“I do, but at least, I have Okaa-san in this way. Not many people can say the same.”

He definitely couldn’t. Then, the staccato beeps of her pager interrupted them again. He was beginning to dislike that particular ring.

By three in the morning, Kaoru was starting to falter. She was continuing to type on her computer, but her head nodded and she occasionally jolted, unconsciously trying to stay awake.

“Kaoru-dono.”

“Hmm?” Her gaze lifted, though not quite focusing.

“Please, get some rest. The work can wait.” He gently said. “This one can turn the lights off, if that would help.”

“Would you? That’d be really nice.” She murmured.

He flipped the switches, leaving the glow of his monitor. “If there was a bed, that would be better.”

“It’s okay. Hospital beds aren’t very comfy.” She certainly spoke from experience. She opened one of her desk drawers, taking out a spare surgical mask. “Please don’t tell anyone else in your department.”  Before he could inquire further, she proceeded to wear it over her face, and it was large enough to cover her eyes.

He had to stifle his laughter. “This one promises.”

It was uneventful afterwards, without beeping pagers or loudspeaker announcements. He lasted another hour and a half, before he felt the familiar pull of exhaustion. He logged off and sat back in his chair. He could never fully sleep while on the job. That was especially true now, with Kamiya Kaoru in the same room, softly breathing.

It was Director Kamiya who had offered him a place at Kamiya Kasshin, while he was still working for Katsura. He had been disillusioned and burnt out, entertaining ideas of quitting medicine. He was too ashamed to talk to Hiko, but he caved to the “fates” as his guardian liked to refer to them. Akane, Kasumi, and Sakura had sat him down, persuading him to take the new job before deciding anything further. Akane was particularly fervent, she had never liked Katsura.

So, he had accepted the position and adjusting to the new work environment occupied him. Then, the accident happened. It was on a night not too different from this one, and he had also been on call. He heard there was a group of people, on the phone with the director at the crash site, trying to obtain details. He had run to that desk, preparing to encourage the man who had helped him so far. It was at the other end of the hospital and he was relatively late, everyone else mobilizing for the victims’ arrival. When he picked up the phone, he was out of breath. “Kamiya-dono?”

Instead of Director Kamiya’s voice, there was a young, feminine one. Choked with tears, but still strong. “Hello? Please, can you hear me?”

One fateful conversation, and she reminded him of what he loved about his profession. But she didn’t seem to remember. That was alright, the memory was wrapped up in tragedy, and he didn’t want to hurt her. Getting to know her was enough. Even after six years, she was very much the same woman he had spoken to. Compassionate, brave, honest.

Hiko, being his usual infuriating self, had accused him of having a crush, although Kenshin was disgruntled. Not that Kaoru wasn’t attractive, but it was not the point. It wasn’t a crush, he was immensely grateful to Kaoru as well as her late father, for his current life. Originally, he was trying to repay their kindness, in what little he could manage on his part. So far, he enjoyed spending time with her, even when on call. Around her, and for that matter, their other workroom colleagues, he felt at ease in a way that he hadn’t experienced in decades.

But if she asked about him…? He hadn’t decided what he would do yet.

***

Kenshin slowly emerged from his trance. The blinds had been opened, the sky pink with dawn. He clicked his mouse and the monitor lit with the time. Just past six. Night call was almost over.

Kaoru’s chair was empty, and he drowsily recalled her rummaging about, before the door closed. She must have gone to pre-round on her patients, to check on them before meeting with the rest of her team. He hoped they would let her go before noon.

He relayed the night’s events to the day shift’s surgeon, who insisted that everything would be taken care of and please get some rest, Dr. Himura. But he went to check on his shock patient, who was thankfully stable. Then, the parents arrived in the waiting area, and he took the opportunity to speak to them. By the time he returned to retrieve his things, it was already ten. Kaoru was also there, greeting him as if she hadn’t spent the night at the hospital.

“Morning, Kenshin!”

“Good morning. How were your rounds?” He inquired, clearing his desk.

“Quick, thank goodness.”

“And how are you?”

“I feel fine. Well, I know it’s fake, I’ll probably crash once I get home. I’m just going to submit my notes, and then, I’ll go.” She didn’t sit down, her eyes glued to her screen as she logged in. A few clicks, and then, she grabbed her bag. “Done! Geez, I’m ready to leave.”

“Good work, Kaoru-dono.”

“You too.” Despite how little she must have slept, her smile was as radiant as ever. “But you’re still here? I thought you would have been out by now.”

“This one had a few tasks, but this one was just about to leave as well. After you.” He urged her ahead of him. They shared an elevator down, luckily without any stops.

“Have you already eaten breakfast?” She asked.

“This one had a leftover rice ball. The cafeteria is…” His weary mind searched for a word that would be appropriate.

“I know, I really want Tae to expand her hours, but she can’t while she has her regular job. I think I have cup ramen in my pantry.”

“Next time, this one will bring enough onigiri to share.”

“Next time?” She repeated, emphasizing the implication of another call shift in the near future, but she was laughing. “Would they have caffeine in them?”

He smiled at her. “For you, this one will make an exception.”

Her cheeks grew pink. “Thank you, I’ll look forward to it.” After a pause, she added. “What would even be inside such onigiri? Instant coffee?”

Matcha powder actually, but he needed to perfect that recipe. “It would be a surprise.”

“Geez!”

They passed the lobby, and bright sunshine filled his vision. After spending so long in the hospital, it was a relief to be out in the open again. The cloudless sky was an immaculate blue, the fresh air crisp. Beside him, Kaoru sighed, her lips curving. The wind tossed her ponytail, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, continuing on. Suddenly aware that he was staring again, he picked up his feet. Then, they were already at the garage and had to part ways. Work had truly ended.

“Drive safe and sleep well! I’ll see you on Monday!” She waved and he did the same.

“Take care.”

There was no traffic, and his empty apartment was cool. It was quiet as he meticulously cleaned his belongings. As he walked to his bedroom, he barely made a sound. The shower seemed too loud, and so did the hair dryer. Slipping between his clean sheets, he noticed the lack of scent. After leaving his glasses on his nightstand, he checked his phone again. Nothing new, which was supposed to be good. He hovered over Kaoru’s name in the group chat. Well…it wouldn’t hurt. His thumb pressed down, and he began to type.

This one hopes you returned home without issue and that you have a relaxing weekend.

With the message sent, he locked the screen. She could reply on her own time.

And at last, he closed his eyes.

[solarcity]

☼  ❛    ━   guess the 23 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because JO CHAESOL is just as LUMINOUS as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of JANG YEEUN? beyond that, they seemed ANIMATED & OUTGOING upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of CAREWORN & AIMLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX #3 / APARTMENT #0717 / FLOOR #2 ; SHE seems to have a lot going on with HER job as A MED STUDENT.

hello all, i’m natti, a scatterbrained 24 yo who goes by she & her pronouns! forgive me if anything about this intro seems jumbled 🥺🥺🥺 chaesol is a super new muse for me, and a lot of information seems to rush at me at once when that happens jvvvxvxcx so for now, her biographical info is in bullet points! ( i will make a proper bio at some point !! ) i also have a wanted plots page set up and ready to go! pls i’m so excited to get to know all your cute muses 🥺 there’s some more details on this befuddled little sunchild under the cut, so feel free to peruse that! also if you’re down to plot, please do either message me or like this post and i’ll come to you! 

trigger warnings: cancer, death

name: jo chaesol age: twenty-three dob: 07/17/1997 gender identity: cis woman sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: demiromantic occupation: third year of medical school

☼  bio:

chaesol was born via a surrogate in gyeongju-si to an older couple who had been unable to conceive. they’d sunk so much of their life’s earnings into fertility treatments and failed adoptions, they’d finally settled on the surrogacy option.

her father was diagnosed with an aggressive form of thyroid cancer when chaesol was a year old, and he died mere months later. as he was the main breadwinner for the family, the cost of raising a child alone became too much for chaesol’s mother to bear, so she rescinded her parental rights, sending the child hurtling into the foster care system.

even though she had a rather sunny disposition despite her circumstances, most of her placements with families were temporary. she learned early on that the key was to give everything and not expect much.

after a few years and incessant questions, the social worker who was assigned to her case informed her of her original family’s situation, and why’d she’d been placed in foster care in the first place. she couldn’t find it in her to blame her mother, as she probably thought this would give chaesol a chance at a happier life. it’s not like it could have been an easy decision, either. that’s the very attitude that kept her going, even when it seemed like she’d never find an actual home.

she sort of got used to spending every holiday with someone new, or maybe even with no one at all. it became an empty pattern. one that made her look at holidays as just mere days. another one to mark off the calendar. birthdays were even worse; a blight on humanity that she didn’t like to talk about.

finally though, she found it. her forever family came to her at age thirteen, and somehow, she knew it from the first day. they were so welcoming and warm; it matched so perfectly with her personality. they were unlike anyone she’d met in her shuffle from family to family. they’d ask her about all her favorite things and then surprise her with them. they didn’t treat her any differently because of where she came from. they cared. it was new and exciting; the months were stretching on before she knew it, and the sweet feel of permanence had allowed itself to settle in her hopeful soul.

not only did she now have two loving parents, but she also had two older siblings and three younger ones. both her parents and older siblings were all either in the medical field, or receiving medical training. there was so much to admire about her new family, it was a bit of a whirlwind. she’d never really given much thought to what she’d wanted to do for employment, but she figured following in the footsteps of the people who’d saved her was the least she could do.

her family was supportive of the idea, and were crucial in providing her with a lot of the basic information she’d need. many nights were spent on the living room floor with snacks and medical textbooks just pouring over numerous topics.

she entered medical school at age twenty, and she surprisingly thrived in the high pressure environment. due to her happy-go-lucky nature, she had an impeccable bedside manner. her memory was also one of her better attributes, which was critical when so much information was being thrown at you from every direction.

despite her success in school, she wondered if she really had a passion for all of this, or if she was simply doing it out of a sense of obligation to her family.

she’s now in her third year and preparing her residency applications. she’s still struggling with what she wants, but for now, it’s full steam ahead for dr. jo chaesol. she’s also considering specializing in oncology, in a sort of tribute for her first father, who passed away from cancer.

she’s been living at dallyeog for a few months now, due to its close proximity to her campus as well as her family. it’s simply the latest in a long list of her adventures!

☼  personality / fun facts

she’s ! so ! sunny ! i swear she is almost always finding something to smile about, even if it is a struggle. she likes to always appear happy because she thinks it’s her cross to bear, i guess??

she’s a bit of a gamer in her free time. she finds it to be an extremely fun escape from reality while also being an excellent tool to train her dexterity and hand-eye coordination.

very protective of her friends, but will also call them stupid if they do something extremely dangerous and make her deploy her first aid. and she’s constantly doing that btw ( even if you don’t ask ). just call her doctor dallyeog 🥺

very dutiful. if she feel like she has an obligation to you, she will see it through until her last breath. unpaid debts make her very uneasy. it also doesn’t help that her love language is acts of service, so she’s always doing little things for people anyway.

chaesol is a speed reader. it’s argued whether or not she can actually enjoy a book considering how she just breezes through them. still, she has a knack for comprehending information and committing it to memory, so there’s that!

she seems to have boundless energy, no matter what time of day it is. it’s actually kind of annoying. maybe she’s born with it or maybe she has coffee coursing through her veins due to her studies. the world may never know.

she has slight omphalophobia, which is a fear of having her belly button touched or tugged. she accepts that it’s irrational, but she’s never been able to stave off the fear regardless.

[faecaptainofdreams]

I do not own Marvel. Yes, Wade drew this with crayon. Marvel HC: www.deviantart.com/foxdragonlo… Peter HC: www.deviantart.com/foxdragonlo… Wade HC: www.deviantart.com/foxdragonlo… If you don't like this ship i don't care. Don't talk to me about it, find something you do enjoy. If you're into it, then thanks for stopping by! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- TW: strong language, mature themes ~~Humble Start~~ When Peter was 19, he met 25-year-old Wade in January when the merc was teaming up with the Avengers to help him find his target, who happened to be involved in something the Avengers were trying to undo. When the men first shook hands and Peter introduced himself, he removed his mask, to which Wade suddenly replied "Hot DAMN! What are you, a Disney prince?!" Peter, startled, backed away, and Tony urged Peter to put his mask back on. As it was, Spiderman and Deadpool got along. Before they all parted ways (with the problem resolved and Deadpool having gotten his man), the latter thought it might be fun to pop in once in a while and visit the Avengers. While the others drily insisted that he don't do that, Spidey thought Deadpool could be a potentially good friend. Despite Tony's aversion to it, Peter gave Wade his number and suggested they hang out sometime. Wade showed up a couple weeks later after having texted Peter off and on. Still shy about his appearance and preferring to not be seen at a lower profile, he came to the facility wearing fingerless gloves, concealing clothing, and his Deadpool mask. After he and Peter hung out the first couple of times, the younger of them asked if Wade would let him see his face. With lots of self-deprecating jokes, Wade said no. Sometimes Peter would go meet up with Wade and go mess around with him, and soon enough he introduced the assassin to his friends, Ned and MJ. They all talked to each other regularly, forming a tight little friend group. Wade sometimes felt like he didn't belong with them, like he was too old to be their friend, but they all had the same childish sense of humor. And given how intelligent the younger trio was, they felt mature to him. Many times, Wade forgot that he was older, even if it was only by a couple of years. As months passed, the Avengers got used to Wade's presence and didn't take much issue with Peter hanging out with him. It was innocent (although Tony loathed the sex jokes and vulgarity, especially when it was directed at his boy). It was clear that Peter had a vastly different moral compass and a much more sensible head on his shoulders, and was not going to be influenced by Wade's mercenary ways. He was trusted with the friendship. ~~The Crush~~ Wade fancied Peter from the start. The second the mask had come off, Wade was smitten, but he figured it would go away or just stay stagnant. He'd been attracted to and thirsted after people loads of times (hence all his sexual escapades), but he was never the settle-down type. He joked about Peter being attractive and sexy and made all kinds of quips, but given he was so crass by nature, Peter never took it too seriously. He did believe Wade thought he was attractive, but he knew he was like this with multiple people and figured it was harmless. Which it was, but he didn't understand that it was serious. The more Wade stuck around and the more he got to know the Spiderman, the more his feelings grew. He eventually had to face facts and accept that he didn't just like Peter for his body -- he liked his character. The boy was an absolute magnet; bright and sunny, happy, forgiving, generous, kind, merciful, hilarious, intelligent, and non-judgmental. He was the ultimate package. Wade also knew he was bisexual and knew that if he really worked up to it, asking Peter out wasn't out of the question or too far-fetched. What was far-fetched, to his mind, was the idea that Peter would ever say "yes." And even if he did say yes, was that fair to the Ironman's golden child? Wade was a self-sustaining disaster with baggage so heavy even Spiderman couldn't pick it up. As far as he was concerned, it was best to keep his feelings to himself and spare Peter the misery. What he didn't realize was Peter was starting to notice him, too. By Autumn, Wade sorely opened up to Weasel about his feelings. ---        "Ew, do you like...love him?" "Maybe."        "Gross. What are you gonna do?" Wade shrugged. "Nothing, same as usual. He doesn't need my insanity in his life, he's too kind and innocent."        "But you wanna fuck him, right? Maybe just try to do that." "No, Jesus! Are you even listening? Peter's not that kind of guy, and even if he was into it, I can't take advantage of him like that." Weasel's face scrunched in mild disgust.        "God, you have it bad for him..." "Yeah. It's like, he's a total bro, but fuckable. He's soft but strong, masculine but feminine, fierce but graceful."        "   " "He's the kind of guy you take on like fifteen dates, buy flowers and candy, get one of those stupid little Hallmark cards with some sappy bullshit saying how much the sender loves him. Then, you fuck him. Not at your place, but at his place, so he's more comfortable, and only after you've made him spaghetti and chocolate-covered strawberries, by candle light. You fuck gently. Passionately, but with strength, but you don't wanna hurt him. But he's secretly a sex tiger under the sheets, and it kinda scares you, but you love it, but you're still afraid to fuck him any other way than gently."        "I feel like this is a fantasy you've had for a while." "No, of course not."        "So...he's your friend, you want to fuck him, but you don't wanna just fuck him because that would be taking advantage of him. Because you'd rather have a relationship with him, but you don't wanna have a relationship with him because you think he deserves better, but you're gonna keep hanging out with him and torture yourself. Is that... I mean, am I close?" "Like a Hawkeye arrow through a nutsack with a target drawn on it."        "Ow. I think my left testicle just rose back inside of me in fear." "Balls are very perceptive."        "Okay, well here's my advice." Wade learned forward.        "... You're fucked." "Thanks, I totally needed help figuring that out."        "Who is the guy, anyway?" "...Peter Parker..."        "Pete-- like Spiderman Peter Parker?" "Yup."        "How the fuck...?" "I know."        "I feel like I saw his face on the news last year when he got all discovered, but I don't remember. You got a picture?" "Yeah," Wade grumbled while reaching in his pocket for his phone.       "Heh, 'course you do, you sick-o." After glaring at his friend, Wade pulled up a picture of Peter and zoomed in on his smiling face.       "WHOA, holy MOSES, that guy is good looking!" "I know."        "He looks like a stallion and a buck had sex with an Irish setter!" "Yeah, told ya. Fierce, but graceful."        "I've always been a pussy-man, but I gotta say... He's making me question my sexuality." "He has that affect on people."        "That is MAJORLY out of your league." "Thank you." Wade put his phone away.       "How old is he?" "Nineteen."        "Whoooa, a little on the young side, huh?" "Just a little, but he's mature for his age."        "..." "...That sounded a little creepy, I take that back." --- Wade began an off-and-on effort of keeping Peter at arm's length. He went through periods of texting and hanging out with him less, but whenever it was clear that Peter could tell something was up, he snapped back into the picture. He couldn't bear to make Peter worry or feel as though he'd done something wrong. This went on for a couple of months. Peter too, was beginning to feel a little bit of romantic sting. Wade hooked up with a couple of people over the months, including Vanessa. There was a brief period where the two of them copulated like rabbits, and that was with the ex-prostitute knowing that Wade had feelings for someone. In the merc's mind, maybe he could get his needs out of his system, but it didn't work. If anything, he felt emptier after each fling. Peter was attracted to Wade before he even realized he was. Always seeking him out, making sure their friendship was solid, feeling a constant need to have a hand on him in one way or another. He also played into some of Wade's lewd jokes and would tease him. Then there was the dancing and singing, of course, which only got more intense as time went on (a natural instinct of the jumping spider to try and woo a mate through display). Tony and Steve began to notice the men getting closer, and Tony was very unhappy. Steve convinced him to stay quiet and let Peter figure it out. In late Fall, Peter turned 20. Wade was there for his party, as were Ned and MJ. It was a lot of fun! Come December, Wade turned 26. He'd tried another couple of times to get away from Peter again, but the boy wouldn't let him go. They were like a binary system of stars, unable to pull away from each other, constantly drawn back into one another's path by an unseen force. For how long could this go on before they collided? And when they did, would they blow up and break apart, or make one bigger, more beautiful star? ~~Spoken Interest~~ By January, Peter came to terms with his own crush, and secretly told Ned about it. For the next month and a half, the boys gabbed about it, and Ned found it adorable and kind of funny. Peter said he wanted to ask Wade out, but was nervous that Wade wouldn't be interested. "Well you're not gonna know unless you ask," said Ned. Peter flirted a little more with Wade, but it mostly came across awkwardly. It basically felt like he was just humiliating himself over and over again, but Wade was noticing the difference in him. Regardless, he tried to respect the space, and refused to give himself up. In February, Peter asked Wade to hang out with him at a park somewhere and "people watch," since Wade enjoyed that activity. He felt it would be a nice, serene setting to keep Wade's attention and finally admit his feelings. He told Ned about his plan; the latter was exhilarated at the thought, and said he'd be standing by. Peter put on a warm but nice outfit and drove off to their spot to talk. Even though it was casual as always, they could both sense tension. They sat and chatted for a while, and with a racing heart, Peter finally found the right moment to confess. ---        "Hey, so... I've kinda been wanting to talk to you about something." "Hamburgers."        "I... What?" "Hamburgers! They're weird, right? I mean, ham comes from pigs, and beef comes from cows. Hamburgers are made with cow meat, but we call them ham-burgers." Wade threw his hands up, head rolling about. "The fuck is up with that??"        "O-oh, hah, I guess it sounds more appealing than...beef...burgers...?" Wade nodded thoughtfully. "Hm. Yeah, sounds kinda naughty." Peter could hear Wade's grin, and he stifled a laugh. His own smile was more earnest, but his desire flitted behind it. "Like beef curtain, or beef stick--"        "Wade." "Yeah?"        "Look, um..." He turned to face his company better, now getting nervous.       "You and I are...really good friends, right?" "Why yes, broski dear."        "Hah, well... It's just... Ahh, I don't wanna say anything and...mess that up." "...Well, what do you wanna say...?" There was a long silence.        "...Okay -- okay, total honesty... Wade, I..." He drew in a deep breath.       "I like you..." They stared at each other. After a long silence, the older male playfully slapped Peter's arm. "I like you too, beef buddy! ... Yikes, wow, see? Beef is just a naughty word." Peter blinked, thoughts spinning in his head a mile a minute. Wade knew what he really meant, but he couldn't begin to believe that in its suddenness. He was bracing for Peter to call him out on his own crush and possibly disown him, but this threw him for a loop.        "N... N-no, no Wade, I mean... I like you...as more than a buddy, or a bro..." He swallowed.       "Or a friend..." He rubbed his hands together, slowly and tensely, brown orbs wide while looking at Wade. The cold white eyes of Wade's mask pierced back at him. "...Oh..."        "A-and... I just thought, m-maybe, if...you don't think it's weird, or if -- I don't know, if maybe you liked me too, we could...date...?" There was another long pause. This time, Wade understood for certain. When he looked forward to contemplate, stunned expression hidden by the mask, Peter looked off and around, his heart sinking. There were times when Wade was genuinely difficult to read, and this was one of them. Wade was getting his wish, it was like the start of his fantasy had come true! All he had to do was agree to it. "Uh, I don't think we should do that." He regretted it the second he said it. Peter felt his heart drop, and his face begin to turn red with shock and embarrassment.        "Oh," he croaked while looking down at his lap. Wade's answer stunned him. When the merc spoke, he tried to bring it back to a place of casualty in the hopes of removing the heavy feeling from the air. "Look, don't get me wrong, you've heard me talk about ya. You're precious, and I'd be beside myself to fuck your brains out." Peter almost smiled, but the desperation for answers overpowered the natural response to do so. Wade continued. "But you're romantic, you need stability. I'm a one-night stand kind of guy, friends-with-benefits and all that. You're not really about that life, right? I mean, come on. You wouldn't sleep with me without getting to know me, right?" Peter swallowed something dry and thick. Looking away, the hope for this to go anywhere withdrew from his gaze, and he shook his head.        "No..." Even Wade was at a loss for words for a moment. He may have turned his head away, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peter's heart breaking. He saw his red cheeks, his pinkish eyes. He could feel the sadness, and a lot of it was coming from himself, too. But he pulled it together again and lightly slapped the back of his hand against Peter's shoulder. "Eyyy, come on, this doesn't change anything, right? We're still pals." Peter quickly nodded. He was polite as ever, but the sensation that he had just gotten hit by a train was easy to read.       "No -- yeah, yeah yeah yeah, it's -- it's just... It's a little embarrassing, aha, I mean... You know, I..." "Nah, it's not so bad. It's adorable! Like I said, doesn't change a thing. Now when we get past this, I can tease you about thinking I'm a hot piece of ass." Peter did finally crack a small, broken smile and shook his head. He was glad that Wade wanted to be friends, but the damage was done. "...I mean you still wanna be friends, right?"        "Absolutely! I just... It's kind of a hard pill to swallow..." "Yeah, I know. You put yourself out there, then get shot down..." With genuine remorse and a strong but hidden wave of self-loathing, Wade laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I'm sorry." Peter nodded again and closed his eyes. He felt emotional, but why? Did it really mean that much to him? Staying strong, he glanced at Wade, mustering a hurt smile.        "Don't be sorry, you know I prefer honesty. I mean it'd be really stupid to say 'yes' when you don't want that, right?" As if Wade's heart couldn't sink any further. "Yeah..."        "Look man, um... It's -- I'm not like mad or anything, you didn't do anything wrong, but... I think I should go home, and just, like...try to process it--" "Yeah! Nothing wrong with that. I'll give you a couple days to uh...reel."        "Yeah, I think that sounds good." When they rose to their feet, they both chuckled sadly. In their awkwardness, Peter offered his hand to shake, which Wade accepted uneasily, but eventually pulled Peter into a side hug. "It'll be fine, we'll get past it. You take your time."        "K-ay..." With one last hurt smile, Peter left Wade's company. On the way back to his car, he finally let the tears roll. Wade watched him go until his car was out of sight, stunned by his own foolishness. He wasn't stupid; he knew he had made Peter cry. He knew he'd broken his heart, and he hated himself for it. When Wade got to his apartment, he took out his anger on his environment, taking to breaking a lot of things in his living space. --- Peter did his best to get most of his emotions out before he got home, but the sadness and hurt would linger. When he got inside he pretended everything was okay, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere. Not too long after getting in, he went to his room and called Ned. ---    "Hey, what's up? Did you talk to him?"        "Yeah."    "...Uh-oh. What did he say?"        "He said 'no.'..."    "Awww man, Peter, I'm sorry. Did he say why?" Peter tried to keep his sniffles quiet, but Ned could hear them anyway.       "Yeah, u-um... He said that...you know, he's a one-night-stand kind of guy, and that I'm -- we're -- ... He doesn't...think it would be a good idea, because he just...likes sex, and I'm romantic, so..."    "That really sucks, I'm sorry."        "Me too..."    "...Hey, I rigged my GTA 4 game to get Carmageddon on the 360." Peter continued to hold back his emotions, but only half-cared about Ned's random statement.       "Y-eah...?"    "Yeah, it's really funny! Can I come over and show you? It should work on your 360." Now understanding, Peter smiled a little.       "Yeah, that sounds cool. We could, um... I could make...popcorn, or something."    "Awesome! Is now good?"        "Sure, uh -- lemme ask Tony first, just to be sure."    "Okay. Text me." --- After they said goodbye and hung up, Peter got confirmation from Tony that having Ned over for a few hours would be fine. While on his way to go prepare everything, May found Peter and insisted he tell her what was wrong, as she could tell something was up. Although he'd wanted to keep it hidden from his elders, Peter (naturally) trusted May and knew it was confidential, so he came clean. Seeing her nephew's broken heart, May consoled him and offered a little advice about how to heal up from it, and insisted that they would, yes, go back to being friends in time. ~~SpideyPool~~ In the days passing, Peter and Wade refrained from messaging each other. Peter went about his usual life, including going on regular patrols. He took down a couple of small criminals, helped a few people in minor danger. This always felt good; even the littlest of ways he could help people made his day brighter and his heart fuller. Wade, meanwhile, had spent the days since the rejection in sorrow and self-hatred. He'd smashed a lot of the stuff in his apartment and all but shredded the couch, laying face-down on the tattered furniture in a mess of stuffing, old food scraps, alcohol and the same outfit he'd had on when he last talked to Peter (minus the coat, boots and mask). It had been five days. But on this fifth day, Colossus happened to pop in. He knocked. ---   "Wade? You are playing Elvis again. Are you all right?" "AwwwWWW!! I'm not in the mood, Sputnik! Fuck the shit off!" Colossus opened the door and hunched in, turning off Wade's music.    "You should really lock door. Wade, you are a mess; what is wrong?" The merc answered him with his face still down and pressed to the couch. "What's wrong is this big metal dildo man keeps showing up at my door even after I tell him to fuck. the. shit. OFF." Colossus looked around, ignoring him.   "How do you live like this..." "I'm not living, I'm existing."    "Clearly. Is this another episode? Perhaps I should take you back to the mansion again." Wade lifted his head, tired eyes closed. "GOD, no! No more bland-coated walls with old white men all over them and every other X-Man acting like the studio couldn't afford to pay them to even just walk around and pretend they live there." Colossus raised a brow, but ignored him, as he was so used to doing.   "Well, if this is not episode, then what is it?" Wade's face flopped back into the couch, pressing in harder than earlier. "Imn mm bmng m thnntl dmshm."    "What?" With a heavy groan of aggravation, he sat up entirely, allowing small bags of food trash to spill onto the floor from its position under his body. Colossus winced at the crinkling and crumbs. "It's me being a total dipshit..." "What did you do," he asked tiredly while folding his arms. "I told you I liked some guy, right? Well... Turns out, he liked me, too."    "That is good news." "Yeah, it was, until he told me he liked me and I shot him down like a retarded clay pigeon in a Guantanamo Bay shooting range."    "..." "I swear to god, it's like while I wasn't looking, the cancer snuck into my brain and made me even stupider."    "Why did you turn him down?" "Because -- he's nice, okay? I don't just wanna get in his pants, I want to date him. I want to have a relationship, but he's not the person I should be trying that out with on account of how fucked sideways with a cactus my head is."    "On inside, or outside?" When Wade glared up at him, Colossus chuckled. Squinting, Wade lowered his voice. "Are you The Moby? 'Cos I haven't even taken The Great American Challenge yet, and I feel like you're stretching my ass WIDE open."    "Eugh! Listen..." Colossus softened up and sat beside him carefully.   "You are...different, very rough around the edges. You are afraid that this guy is too good for you." "No, I KNOW he's too good for me. I can't risk screwing up his life."    "How do you know that would happen?" "Uh, do I not ruin everything everywhere I go?"    "Only when you really mean to. But he likes you too, yes?" "He says he does... I'm not sure why."    "Maybe because, in your own strange way, you are charming man. You have a big heart, you care about people -- most of all, him, it seems." "That's why I gotta stay away from him."    "No, that is why you must go to him." Wade glanced up at his company.    "You must go tell him the truth, give it a second chance. He deserves to know what you are thinking, does he not?" "... No, I don't want to make him more miserable."    "If he is miserable, it is only because you have not been honest with him." "...You really think I should do this? You really think I should go over there and just...tell him how I feel?"    "Absolutely." "...Just admit that you want me, Colossus." Colossus sighed. "I don't know,..."    "Trust me, if you don't do this, then you will never know what could be. You will spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been, your soul will forever be restless." "..."    "...Who is it that you are pining for so badly?" Wade's voice almost cracked. "P-eter Parker..."    "Peter Parker?? You mean Spiderman???" "Yeah."    "OH, he is a VERY good young man... Erh...over eighteen, yes?" "He's twenty."    "OH, good." "Like you said, he's very good. He's not...he doesn't deserve all my shit."    "You will never know, Wade. Not unless you take risk." "..."    "If you try your best, if you let love in, and it is real, then your messy life will work itself out." Wade looked up at Colossus, who then put a caring, large metal hand on his shoulder.   "Maximum effort." "...Okay... Maximum effort." --- When Colossus left, Wade showered and started cleaning up. On the sixth morning after their last conversation, Wade called Peter, but the latter was around other people while in the facility. Not wanting to talk to him in front of anyone, he declined the call, but texted Wade saying "Hang on i'll call in a sec." He went to his room and did as was promised, calling Wade back while sitting on his bed. --- "Hey, Spidey!"        "Hey, Wade." He sounded a little tired, but was kind and open-minded. "What's up?"        "Uhh not much, I was with Tony and Wanda and didn't want to talk in front of them. Just...sitting in my room, now." "Gotcha."        "So...did you want something?" "Aww, you're still upset about the other day," he said with an audible smile. Peter sat up, voice more peppy.       "No, no, I mean I'm not upset, I'm just... It... 'Upset' is just such a harsh word, um... I'm just kinda sad, you know? It's -- I'm still just trying to...make sense of it all, figure out what's...going on in my head." "I understand."        "I'm sorry..." "Why are you sorry?"        "I don't know, I just feel bad, I mean this can't be fun for you, either. I just feel really stuck. And -- I told May, but only because she could tell how down I was." "May is nice."        "She's the best..." "...I miss you, Pete."        "Me too... Ned...rigged his GTA 4 disk to run Carmageddon on the 360." "What?! That's sick as FUCK!"       "Yeah... Maybe sometime we could hang out and play it together. It's really funny..." "I'd like that. Or... I could just come hang out with ya right now!" Peter sat up a little more.       "Oh, Wade, I don't know, I... I think I still need a little more time to process everything. It's -- I'm still not mad or anything, you're still my friend, it's just kinda hard..." "Oh... Well that's too bad, 'cos I'm right outside your window."        "--What??" After Wade's shadow cast onto the wall and got Peter's attention, he quickly looked to the left and saw Wade in the window, waving happily at him before putting the phone back to his ear. Peter tossed his phone down in shock and ran to the window.       "Wade!" He opened the glass pane, shivering at the freezing air.       "What are you doing?!" "Just felt I needed to come by and clear things up with you." After realizing he was talking pointlessly into his phone, Wade shrugged and tossed it.       "Wha--" Peter quickly fired a web at the little computer, snatching it and yanking it into his hand. Wade crawled into Peter's room through the window, and then the latter closed it and handed Wade his phone.       "Why would you throw this??" Wade took his phone back and chuckled. "Ewww, now it has webs on it...!"        "That's better than being broken!" Wade shrugged the snow off his shoulders. He was in full suit with a beanie on his head over his mask, and a fur coat. "Plungers make really good building-climbing tools, did you know that?"        "Eugh, you -- you used plungers to get up here?" "They're all new, it's fine. Well -- except for the one for my right foot, I wouldn't touch that one." Wade slid off his coat and beanie.       "Wade, what are you doing here...?" "I wanted to talk to you about the other day." Peter motioned for him to be quiet, then stepped over and locked his door. Turning back to face him, he kept his voice low, and so his visitor did the same.        "Okay?" "Look... The thing is, I like you, too. A LOT. I've had it bad for you from the start, Petey, but... It's like I said the other day; you're a nice guy, and--"        "Wait, let me just stop you there." He waited.       "I know that you like to sleep around, and that's okay. Some people are romantic, and some people aren't, and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not judging you, I think what you do is totally fine." Wade nodded.       "But... I'm still not that guy, you know? I still need those things, I'm -- I want a relationship. It's okay that you don't want that, you don't have to explain yourself. But if this is a request to just...fool around, um... I'm...not game for that, I'm sorry." "...Aww, you're so cute," he said happily before roughing Peter's hair lovingly. Peter stood in blank confusion, having no response to that. "I'm not here because I want to have sex with you. I mean, I'd like to, but not like...right now, I mean like in the future, when we've been seeing each other for a little while."        "..." "When you asked me out, I said no because I didn't think I was right for you. I still don't, honestly, I mean you should really, just...turn around and run while you have the chance. Because I'm about to ask you something, and I don't have a lot of patience, and I might just blurt it, cut and dry."        "Wade, what the hell are you trying to say?" "I'm saying... Will you go out with me...?" Peter stood in total shock, staring blankly at Wade. "......Is that a 'no'? That's probably a wise choice, but I'm gonna...need verbal confirmation. I mean if it's not 'yes,' it's 'no,' because basic principle, but ya know. ...?" He finally blinked and shook his head a little, making an effort to make sure he kept his voice low.        "Okay, wait... You do want to go out with me...?" "Yeah. I've wanted to since like, last June."        "FFFFFFFF-- Wade...?!?!?" "Yeah... Pathetic, I know."        "So why did you say 'no' the other day??" "I told you, because I don't think I'm right for you. I'm super fucked up and you're really nice! You're --"        "Shh...!" He lowered his voice to something of a shouting whisper. "You have your whole life ahead of you to meet fucked up people, you should at least have some normal, healthy relationships first...!"        "Wade, that's up to me to decide, and I know you think you're like the worst person ever, but you're actually really a good guy...!" "Why are we whispering...?!"        "Because if Tony finds out we're even discussing dating he'll throw you to the moon...!" "That would suck...!"        "I know...!" They both stood a little taller, each sighing some and looking off before focusing again. They stopped whispering, but remained quiet.        "So..." "I'm just saying... I've got a lot of baggage, and problems, and a whirlwind of mind shit that falls out of its little shit-filled cabinet whenever it feels like it. I have LOVED being your friend, but I'm..."        "...Yes...?" "...I'm scared of hurting you..." Peter relaxed and took a step towards him.        "You're not gonna hurt me." "You don't know that."        "And you don't know that you will. But if you think that, but you still had the nerve to come tell me how you feel and ask me out..." Wade looked up at him cautiously.       "...Then you must have some sort of faith in it being okay, right?" "..." Peter started to smile.        "What if we just tried it? Why don't we just...date...? And if it doesn't work out, then that's okay. We can just be friends. I mean that's what we were working up to being again anyway, right?" "That's how it would have to be. I can't lose you, Spidey, you mean a lot to me."        "..." "You're like ice on a burn. You have...the BEST heart. I don't wanna hurt it."        "Stuff's gonna hurt me, Wade. That's life, it's okay. If you hurt me, we can get past it." "...You promise?" Peter smiled bigger.        "I promise. Hey, who knows? Maybe I'll hurt you or something, pfft." Peter couldn't see it, but Wade was smiling, too.        "If you're serious, and this isn't you feeling guilty about saying 'no' or asking for a one night stand... I would love to go out with you. PLEASE, let me go out with you." --- And so it was, they secretly began dating. Wade made arrangements to take Peter out that very afternoon. After Wade left through the window, taking his plungers with him, Peter called Ned in a slight panic. He excitedly explained what happened and told him he needed to prepare himself for the date, and they hung up. When it came to Tony, Peter had to keep quiet. Like before, he didn't tell anyone, including May; he just didn't want anyone to know yet. The first date was just spent with the boys wandering around a nice part of the city, discussing how they liked each other and how long each of them have felt it. Wade explained that he was a mess for the days following his rejection of Peter, and that it took Colossus busting into his apartment and yanking him onto his feet to get him to go talk. He also confessed to having slept with a couple of people, including Vanessa, which Peter was more than fine with. But, he emphasized, Wade really needed to look into STI testing just to be safe. The first date didn't end with kissing or anything randy, and Wade still didn't show Peter his face. Instead, they hugged, and Peter drove back home. The dates following were very similar, with food as part of the equation. They even had a "parkour date," where both got in full suit and leaped around the city, showing their abilities to one another for the sheer sport of it. Peter even held Wade and swung around the city with him on his hip. According to Wade, this was terrifying but romantic. By this time, Peter told May and MJ. After a few weeks, Peter and Wade felt relatively steady. Tony and Steve could tell something was different with Peter when it came to Wade, and Tony had his suspicions from the start. Peter knew that Tony could sense something unusual, but he played around it and acted casually. Tony chose to stay quiet about it. During a date one late afternoon when Peter and Wade were on a harbor, in suit, the sun out after a light rain (yes, it must be that specific), Peter pressed a little harder to see Wade's face. He understood why Wade was shy about it, but kindly argued that it was difficult to date someone he'd known for over a year while still not having a clue what he looked like. Feeling that Peter's reaction could really make or break the potential of their relationship, Wade finally conceded and removed the mask. To his surprise, there was no horror or tension, or even the slightest bit of disgust. He looked a little surprised, briefly raising his eyebrows with a blink, and studied him. He said "Wow," and that was about it. Wade started to make jokes about himself, to which Peter put his arms around Wade and told him he wasn't allowed to insult himself whenever he was in the Spiderman's arms. This became a new theme with them. After a minute of talking, and with Wade allowing his new partner to lightly touch his scarred cheeks, he asked if Peter had anymore requests before the mask went back on. ---       "...You could kiss me..." Wade stared at him in light disbelief.        "...Or -- or not, it's totally optional. Just a suggest--" As the cliche stands, Wade kissed him, cutting off his sentence. When he pulled away, Peter was stunned and glowing.        "O-ohhoh... Okay, I-I don't have a lot of reference, but... That was really good..." "I agree." --- Wade put his mask back on, and the two were smitten. A few days after their first kiss, Peter finally sat down with Tony and Steve and came clean about his recent dating situation. Steve didn't love the idea, and Tony hated it, but the former offered support and simply asked that Peter be careful and trust his instincts. Tony was a tad more chilly with his honesty, but when Peter became insecure, he emphasized that he wasn't angry. He just didn't trust Wade on a romantic level, and feared Peter getting hurt. This gave Peter the opportunity to remind Tony that he was a big boy now, and he could handle making his own mistakes, and was willing to face the consequences of his decisions. It ended on a positive note, but Tony couldn't hide the lack of thrill he had over the new relationship. Weeks turned into months, and things when steady. In their time together, Peter got permission from Tony to make his very own original suit. Given how comfortable he was with Wade, and with the relationship also recently going public, Peter felt the desire to start fresh and switch up his look with a lot more blue. For one thing, the blue complimented Deadpool's vast red and helped him stand out.~ That May, when they'd been going out for about three months, Peter started becoming more bold in his physical interest in Wade. He'd been to the merc's apartment several times as well, and had actually managed to convince him to start cleaning the place up and get some new furniture. He wasn't judgmental; he merely worried for Wade's state of mind and the health hazards, insisting that he might feel better and more confident if he lived in better conditions. This conversation brought Wade to inadvertently mention how he was desensitized to the squalor due to being forced to sit in his own waste and vomit for a while when he had gotten ill at the Mutant Factory. This was one of the most serious things Wade brought up right off the bat, but upon seeing Peter's face stricken with shock and concern, he clammed up. Peter assured him that there was nothing to be ashamed of, and that he appreciated Wade talking to him. The conversation helped Wade feel better, much to his shock, and he agreed that it might be good for him to clean up the apartment. So he did just that. It wasn't spectacular, but the improvement was great, and Wade actually found himself wanting better for how he lived. In June, Peter's physical interests were more clear. They'd discussed sex, but Peter was shy, and Wade was never one to push. But finally, while making out one day, Peter came to the conclusion that he was ready to be intimate. They each went home and planned for Peter to go to Wade's. They each wanted to shower and prepare for it first. Peter brought a small bag with a movie and his suit in it (just in case). He told Tony that they were just going to have a movie date. Tony didn't like it, and insisted Peter also take his iron suit (which is tightly compact into a small shape when dormant like the Ironman suit). Peter obeyed, willing to do anything to help Tony feel more comfortable about him being out and about. At Wade's apartment, the pair chilled for a little while, but Wade was eager to show his company how he'd prepared the bedroom. He led Peter to his room, revealing soft pink and orange shaded string lights pinned up around the walls, nice bedding, and an overall sense of warmth. Needless to say, Peter was very impressed, letting Wade know he did not expect this, and didn't require it in the future. But yes, he absolutely loved it, and knew he would have a good time. When they were done, they both fell asleep in Wade's bed. Tony called around 1 in the morning, asking where Peter was. He was a little upset, but nothing Peter couldn't work around. He apologized and said they were both tired from watching the movie and then playing some video games, so Peter crashed on the couch and forgot to tell Tony he was staying the night. After a little back and forth, Peter reassured him that everything was all right and encouraged him to go back to sleep. He promised to come home early in the morning with a box of donuts as an apology. Tony hesitantly agreed, and left him alone. Once more, the next day, Peter made a point to tell Ned about his escapades. The next few times Peter went to Wade's house, he ended up spending the night. And again, he lied his ass off to Tony, saying they just had a new routine of playing video games until they crashed. Tony knew better, and Peter knew that, but neither were willing to give on the subject. By this time, Peter quietly told aunt May that his relationship with Wade was now very serious. She was excited for him, proud and happy and double checked that he was being safe. Embarrassed and a little exasperated, he confirmed this, and just like that May was back in fun mode. She was able to accept that Peter was grown now, and she was glad to try and guide him through this very impressionable period in his life. The morning after Peter's fifth time with Wade, Colossus visited unexpectedly while the boys were still sleeping. Wade got up and addressed him, completely naked, while Peter stayed back and hurriedly put his clothes on before meekly coming out to greet the metal man. He was shy but thrilled to meet the infamous X-Man. After Peter convinced Wade to at least put on some underwear, they all sat down together and had a chat. Colossus was happy to finally meet Spiderman, and when Peter got home, he told his family about how funny it was to wake up and meet Colossus. Later that day, Tony finally pulled Peter aside and broke down, having a serious discussion with him about the relationship. He asked for full honesty on whether they had become physical, and Peter answered honestly. The talk was civil, as Tony loved Peter too much to ever take out any frustration on him, but his concern was clear. He told Peter he respected that, that Peter didn't need to feel bad about it; he was just making sure everything was okay. Not that it was any of his business, but he considered his family to be his business. Peter didn't mind, so long as Tony stayed cool. The Ironman did confirm that Peter understood the fact that he wasn't going to invite Wade to live with them. Peter agreed. When Tony asked if Peter was thinking about living with Wade, the latter said "no." "So what are you gonna do?" Tony asked. Peter told him that he would just keep doing as they had been; dating, hanging out, and if they wanted to have personal time, Peter would go to Wade's. He told Tony he felt he really loved Wade, and was okay with the fact that he was, in Tony's words, "super fucked up." He understood that he wasn't responsible for Wade's mental health, but that he enjoyed helping him through some of his issues. He understood that trauma like this was a long-haul, and he was willing to at least try. After all, everyone he knew was traumatized, himself included. The conversation helped clear the air a lot for the father-and-son pair, and Tony grew a greater respect for the relationship. A week or so after that conversation, Tony ended up having a talk with Wade. The merc shocked him with his raw honesty about his feelings for Peter, revealing his only intention was to be happy with him without weighing him down. He loved him, and he would do anything for him, including whatever he could to please his family. He understood why everyone flocked to shield Peter; he was different, special. It was then that Tony finally saw an ounce of what Peter saw in Wade, and his respect grew. In August, Peter turned 21 and in December, Wade turned 27. In that time frame, Peter began sneaking Wade into his room sometimes to get physical.~ Not long after Wade's birthday, Tony finally came to grips with the reality that Wade wasn't going anywhere. His relationship with Peter was incredibly strong and steady, and despite Peter having his job, his family and friends and Wade, he'd managed to make it all work. They were mature, and mature together, and Tony wanted Peter to have every opportunity possible to make things a little easier. So as a surprise, he told Peter he was going to allow Wade to move into the facility, even though he wasn't being offered any Avenger titles. He even said he didn't mind if Wade and him shared his bedroom, so long as they weren't mindless sex idiots and kept everyone awake all the time. Stunned, Peter was beyond grateful. Together, everyone gathered up and invited Wade to the facility to make the offer. Wade was uncertain at first, asking if they wanted him to be an Avenger. "GOD no," said Sam. Peter informed him that this had no strings attached, and asked if he was ready to move in with him. Wade said yes, and accepted this very unexpected, beautiful birthday present. In being offered to move in, this was the Avengers fully embracing Wade and adopting him into their weird, messed up family. In time, they would learn to see that Wade was in fact, a good man with a big heart, and become used to his mouth. ~~Love Forever After~~ Living together, it was a dream come true. For the first time in Wade's life, things finally seemed to be on a steady path, and he would do anything to keep it that way. He was happy, he wanted to stay happy, and most of all, he wanted to do well for Peter. With them being together (even before Wade had moved in), Peter helped Wade open up about his past and his feelings. He wasn't judgmental, he wasn't off-put by Wade's mannerisms, weirdness, strange coping habits, random emotional moments, nightmares, or even the nastiest of content regarding his past. He just listened and consoled, and even shielded Wade from the harshness of others. With a guy as wonderful as the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, even though he wasn't perfect, Wade had a tough time feeling like he could give back enough. What he didn't tend to understand was Peter already felt Wade did give back. Wade was a passionate, attentive, caring, thorough lover, and exceedingly generous. He did anything and everything he could for Peter. Aside from just being the best mate he could be, he couldn't think of much else, but it was more than enough. Peter needed him, too. And when Peter had problems, his heart was heavy or he had his own traumatic episodes, Wade was there for him. He applied the very things he'd learned from his love and gave back. After some months living with Peter, Wade had his first serious emotional breakdown related to his trauma. Deadpool, Spiderman, Ironman, Scarlet Witch, and War Machine were out on a mission one night. On a rooftop, after the mission was finished and they had regrouped, Peter was wrapping some things up when a casual conversation started between Wade and the others. The Mutant Factory got brought up, which Wade appeared fine with. He joked casually about what he went through, and the others listened. But at a certain point, after making a comment about his torture that initially caused him to laugh, his laughter suddenly turned to tears. At first the others just went along with it, used to Wade's emotional switches at this point and figuring it would be fine. But when the merc's weeps became sobs and he could no longer stand up, everyone finally realized something was wrong. James stood by Wade and Wanda knelt beside him, clueless as to how to help or what exactly was happening. Tony called Peter to their gathering on the rooftop, and when the Spiderman saw his partner in a heavy heap of tears, he sprung into action. Wanda and James backed away to give Peter the space to console him. He was understandably confused and alarmed by the development, but stayed calm. Tony had an idea of what was happening, cluing Peter in with a reminder of how he had suddenly felt okay enough to grieve his uncle when the time came. It clicked; Wade finally felt safe and comfortable enough in his life that his mind was ready to start the healing process. Peter carried Wade away from the group, who let them have their space. He removed his mask, and convinced Wade to let him take his off, and he held him. Wade announced that he didn't understand what was going on and that he couldn't stop, so Peter told him not to stop. He told him that this was a good thing even though it didn't feel like it, and that it wouldn't last forever. After a while, when Wade was calm enough, Peter took him home. He explained to him what he thought was happening. From that point on, Wade was much more prone to having harder breakdowns, but at that point they seemed to happen at more appropriate times. He also had an easier time talking about it, even if it did hurt like all hell. Thankfully, for Wade's sake, his primary trauma response now is sobbing and nightmares. And when it happens, someone is always there to help him. Of course he still has his random weepy moments at weird things, but Peter has always been understanding of that and never judged him. If anything, he only ever helped Wade feel validated. When Peter was 22 and Wade was 28, the Trial of the Gods ensued. This was hard on Wade, and revealed he had a host of dependency issues with Peter. It led to them having a serious but gentle talk, where Peter offered to work with him on easing his mind about the fact that bad things happen, and if anything bad ever happened to Peter, he needed the peace of mind that Wade would take care of himself. Stay clean, healthy, surround himself with his friends, continue to do good things. If not for himself, then for Peter, because he would want that. Wade agreed, even though the conversation was hard. Ultimately, Wade's mind never reached any peace until he went on a mission and secretly killed himself in order to get to The Realm of Silence, Interitus's realm of the dead. After having a quick conversation wherein Wade asked the elk god if he would ever die for good, Interitus told him 'yes.' He said that Wade would not live forever, that his time would come when it was right, and in death he would be with his beloved. This gave Wade all the peace he needed. Someday, Wade and Peter will get married. How, when and under what circumstances remain a mystery. For now, they're just loving life together. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[sporadic-writer]

Age is but a Number

Sebastian Stan x reader

No warnings other than a swear or 2 and the age gap thing

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You began working for Marvel in about 2015. At that time you were 17 pushing 18. At 18 going on 19 Civil War was your first full film, but it worked because you were playing a character who was older than you actually were, but needed to look young. Your character was also Bucky's love interest. Well, sorta.. In the comics you were, but the movies had a slower build, more subtle. Regardless, the producers had you both hang out before filming to gain a sense of familiarity. He was cool and you both got along quite well. He liked how you didn't act as young as you were. You liked how funny and down to earth he was. A lovely friendship built as time went on.

But here you were, 5ish years later, dealing with press stuff for Avengers: Endgame. You were 22, managing college with being an actress, and trying to have a life with your friends still. You loved being a student and having this job, everyone was cool with you doing most of your filming and work during your breaks. Yet, it still could get overwhelming. Luckily, Sebastian and you had always remained close. He helped you manage everything and deal with the intense world of acting. As you got older, he noticed how well you handled everything. Yes, you still acted like a 22 year old girl at moments, it was normal. But most of the time you always seemed older and more mature despite being the youngest cast member. He respected you, and even grew to like you. The media caught on about how you both hung out more outside of set. Obviously, dating rumors and notes of the age gap spread out and around the world. Yet, neither of you stressed about it or let it get to you. Brushing it off, both of you went about life as usual. Neither of you talked about the relationship possibilities. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you liked seeing some fans point out details about how he acted in a flirty, or different manner around you. It added to your girly fantasy of you being with someone like Sebastian Stan. Things never really shifted between you guys until a Jimmy Fallon appearance with Mark Ruffalo.

Walking backstage with the two men you turned and looked at Sebastian. “Your ass nearly got us fired! Not in a single trailer, yet you almost blew a plot point. I know we don’t know if it’s true or not, but still! When we come back for the game, I am not taking blame if something goes to shit.”

Mark looked between you guys, “The fact that I held up better than you is sad dude. Thank God Y/N jumped in. But how is that the topic you are focusing on? Don’t look at me like that. Jimmy brought up you guys being a thing now that she isn't seeing Tom's friend anymore and I felt your hands stop messing with each other behind me on the couch! You froze! Just admit you like each other. We’ve seen it all but confirmed since the kiss that got cut in Infinity War.”

You both stopped and you looked to Mark, “We were messing with each other. So what? Then he brought us up so we focused on him. And that kiss was only a casual peck for the scene. Shut up man, I’m gonna wait in the green room for the game. I hope it’s that film noir truth or lie game! I wanna see what they dug up on me haha!"

You walked off and Sebastian kept his eyes on you until you turned the corner. “She didn’t deny it did she? That she likes me?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.. You’re over 30! Just grow a pair and talk to her.”

He hesitated, “She’s 15 years younger than me... I've known her since she graduated high school."

“What’s your point? Blake Lively is 11 years younger than Ryan. Jay-Z is 12 years older than Beyonce. George Clooney and his wife are 16 years apart. No one cares if you both like each other. Hell, Nick Jonas just married a woman 11 years older than him.” Mark looked at him like he was an idiot. “You like the girl, we all do. Go for it! She wouldn’t say no.”

“Really??” Mark simply nodded. Next thing he knew, he was heading to your green room.

He knocked and heard you say come in. You were sitting comfortably on the couch, scrolling on your phone and munching on snacks left by Jimmy and the crew. You looked up and said hey to him. He didn’t speak back and you looked up at him again. “What’s up man? You look like you saw someone get stabbed by the main curtain. "

He laughed a little and made eye contact with you. “Nah, I feel just a nervous though.”

You put your phone down, sat up, and looked up at him. “You were fine out there. What’s going on?”

“We get along really well right? And we have a lot of fun hanging out and talking right?”

“Yeah of course. What are you getting at here Seb? You’re being more random than usual.” You smiled at him in a questioning manner and invited him to sit next to you.

“Wow this is harder than it seemed in my head. I was just wondering if you would want to maybe, I don’t know...” He doesn’t really look at you, just the floor and rubs his hands on his pants. Suddenly, it seems to click for you.

“Wait. Are- are you asking me out?” You smile as you see him nod, still not really looking at you. “Hell yes I’ll go out with you. Since when are you so nervous to ask a girl out? You told me how you asked Jennifer Morrison out easily after meeting her.”

“Yeah well she wasn’t my friend first, and she isn’t 15 years younger than me.”

“Oh. That isn’t an issue is it? I mean well clearly not, you just asked me out. Hell Ellen and her wife are like 15 apart too." A knock on your door interrupted you. A guy with a headset on came in and told you to go to the main stage area for the game. You nodded and said you would both be out soon. You turned back to Sebastian and put your hand on his knee. “I would love to go out with you. Let’s just skip the awkward actual going out parts for the first date. Let’s do something slightly more serious than when we just hang. Sound good?”

“Yeah, damn you’re easier at this than me. But that sounds good.” He took note of how you said first date. The hope of more lingered. He stood up and held his hand out to help you up. Grabbing his hand he pulled you up and hugged his arm around your waist. Then the two of you met Mark and Jimmy and played Drinko much to your excitement!

SKIP TO THE DATE

You looked at your phone and remembered that Sebastian told you to just come in when you made it to his place. He insisted you come over and he could cook you dinner. Between all the press things, a dinner was a great choice. Neither of you had a home-cooked meal in forever. Plus, he wanted to show off. So walking in, you clutched the bottle of wine and tried to remain calm. 

“Sebastian?” You called out your heels clicked as you looked around. You could faintly smell something being made. Considering you saw no kitchen, you walked upstairs. The sight before you was adorable. He was dancing around to some music while stirring something around in a pan. He turned and saw you smiling as you watched him, but he also stopped dancing. “No don’t stop on my account.”

“Ha ha how clever. Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” He took the bottle you brought and took your coat off for you. You thanked him and he laughed at the bottle. “Barefoot? Really?”

“Hey it isn’t pink is it? I had to pay some tuition bills yesterday, less funds than I anticipated. Figured this was better than nothing. Plus, my mom told me it’s rude to come to someone’s house for dinner empty handed.”

“Aren’t you such a lady. But I’m just messing with you, you brought it, so even then pink would have been fine. I’m just finishing this up, so you’re right on time. As long as I never drink peppermint schnapps again I’ll be fine. Mixing that with hot sauce, clam juice, and grape soda was horrible.” 

Looking at the kitchen area, you smiled. “Ha yeah I lucked out. Sunny D, whipped cream vodka, grape soda, and mountain dew? Hell I’m pretty sure I had that last semester at a Halloween party. But forget the gross stuff. Whatcha cooking? Creamy garlic shrimp, one of my favorites. How did you know?”

“I know you.” He said it so surely. And the bastard had the nerve to wink. Make you flustered. Well, two could play at this game.

You walked to get a couple glasses for the wine, making sure you sway your hips as you went past him. From your side eye you saw him check you out. “Like what you see old man?”

He didn’t even try to hide it. “I do. You look good Y/N, you always do.” As you went back to sit down and pour some wine for you both, he sat a nice plate of food in front of you. He went next to you and told you to dig in.

Taking the first bite let out a small, appreciative moan. “Holy shit. This is fantastic! I’m serious. Thank you for this. I’ve never actually had a guy cook for me, so really, thanks.”

“No need to thank me. Just keep going out with me.” His smile was so sweet. You just simply said of course.

"Can't say no to that." You smirked at him to the side of you as you both ate.

Once dinner was finished and cleaned up by the both of you he suggested you move to the living room balcony.

"Wait, you said a specific balcony. Do you have more than one?" He laughed as you both walked out. Wine glasses full with his better stuff after finishing the Barefoot you brought.

He stood next to you enjoying the view. "Yes there is another connected to the main bedroom."

"Wow. And I thought my campus apartment was fancy. This sure beats dorm furniture and faulty heating."

He chuckled, looking at you as you looked out at the city. "Why do you live on campus? I mean, you can afford a nicer place to finish school."

"Yeah but I cover rent for my roommates who truly depend on me for campus living so they can keep their scholarships. Going off campus would screw them over. Plus, I have too much money anyway. They wouldn't let me help with their tuition, so rent'll do." As you spoke you continue sipping the wine. It was enchanting and sparkling to see the lights of the city.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" You pondered as to what he could mean.

He turned fully to you and you did the same. He looked at you earnestly. "Stay normal when being a Marvel star? You balance getting a college degree and doing press tours world wide. I only do this and sometimes cannot stand it."

Shrugging you spoke, "Eh it isn't always easy. But managers and people working out schedules around my schooling have really helped. Plus, my folks, friends, and you guys have really helped. Especially you." You brought the glass to your face to hide a blush forming.

Sebastian pulled you by the waste, closer to him. You looked up and smiled at him. "Hey I was forced to be with you when we were younger. Only fitting I actually shaped you properly for the biz and so I wouldn't hate you." Ah that charm you fell so easily for. "I'm kidding. I like you for soo many reasons. I'll tell you them on the second date."

You put your wine glass down. "Good. I will love to hear those then. Because right now I don't wanna talk that much."

He laughed lightly. "Are you trying to make out with me Y/N? Ah darling, here I thought you were mature!" His hold around you tightened as you smiled.

You sighed as you ran a hand over his really toned pec. "Yeah.. mature. Not blind!" Your heart fluttered at the way he looked at you. Luckily, no more words were exchanged on the balcony til a while later when the sun finished setting.