#just a snippet of something i've been working on

[thosegayoldmen]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tags everyone! I always appreciate getting these 🥹 @elodiah @insomniaflarrow @lokimobius @mobiusismycomfortcharacter @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @in-my-loki-feels

Soooo I know it's been a while since I've posted for one of these 😅 The writers block has been royally kicking my ass, so here's a snippet of the only thing I've been able to work on at the moment 😘

TW for blood

What he isn't expecting as he thrusts the blade forwards, is Mobius to step towards him. His eyes go wide with shock as he feels the dagger sink into the soft flesh of Mobius’ middle, a strained noise of pain escaping his friends lips.

There's a shock of warmth over his hand, and he looks down in panic as blood starts to seep from the wound, hot and sticky where he clutches the handle of the blade.

Loki freezes in place, panic on his face as he realizes he just stabbed his friend, and not a small knick like the previous times. Mobius’ face is screwed up in a mixture of pain and something he can't place.

He tenses, meaning to pull the blade back and out of the wound - despite knowing better - but suddenly there are hands on his shoulders holding him still. He watches in confused horror as Mobius pulls himself closer, sinking further onto the blade with a pained whimper.

Late tags but it's mostly just for people to see 😊

@ghoulehhh @natendo-art @kcscribbler @kusakichan15 @mythical-magik

@devilbearingtrouuble @impulsemuppet @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony

@ilaytrapsfortroubadours @boredintjqueen @rin-love-is-green @stillwanderingflame @andthekitchensinkao3

@insert-witty-user-name-here @blackbirdofasgard @dreamycloud @distracteddream @mobius-m-mobius

@dilfmobius @adorbspotat @lgwilt @wolfpup026 @toms-pink-confetti39x @tealdropsworld

[deadly-diminuendo]

Snippet Sunday

Thank you so much for the tag, @bardic-inspo! 🥰

I've been slowly trudging along in my quest to complete A Fitting Reunion (I PROMISE IT WILL BE DONE EVENTUALLY), but today I spent a bit of time working on one of my other projects:

Really, it could be any manner of monster or miscreant lurking at your balcony door. But, if this night is like so many that have come before, you suspect your nocturnal visitor is the vampiric kind. You step carefully to the door, poker held high in hand (just in case of course), peeking around the curtain—and, through the glass pane, you spy a familiar toothy grin. Astarion. His hair is wind-swept, and he is covered in snow, and yet somehow you still feel like you are the one outside looking in on him. Sighing, you push the curtain aside and unlock the door, pulling it open. "Please, my fair maiden," he begins, pouring all his charm into this little act of his. "Would a pure, kind soul such as yourself take pity on a poor, starving man and let me in? The night is bitingly cold."

No pressure tags: @saucy-scribbler, @xxnashiraxx, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @anacdoce, @eraserspiral, @obsessedwhyyes, @kalmiaphlox, @meeshrox, @pinkberrytea, @nerdallwritey, @hellethil + anyone else who would like to share something! ❤��

[roomwithanopenfire]

Stats Sunday

Happy March!! Thanks for the tag @nausikaaa! Unfortunately, my goal is to make this banner worse every month, so be prepared—we've only just begun.

Early post for me. I should be sleeping but I started making my graphs and then... well, here we are.

Here's my February Recap loll. Stats and graphs and musings incoming. (this post is so long but i promise there's a snippet in here)

Rest of post is under the cut. It is long. You've been warned.

I've posted two things last month! A valentine's day fic for Ebb/Fiona and Chapter 3 of the Way We Are. (Technically i posted 3 but this stranger things oneshot was posted on the 1st and written in January so it feels like January's accomplishment)

Total words written for February: 14405 (this beats Jan by 460 words!)

Days I met my writing goal (200 words): 20

Days I didn't write or edit anything: 4

Day I wrote the most: Feb 11th with 2249 (this beats last month's high score of 1717!)

Number of Fics worked on: 10 technically, but i have not been consistent with most of them. mainly worked on 3.

Daily Average: 514 words (but like last month i am highly inconsistent and my WC varies wildy depending on the day)

(I really like the little curve in the middle. also two the days that look like zero are actually 1 words, which is my placeholder if i spend all day editing)

And here's a pie chart to show my WC distribution across projects. Tbh a lot of these were fics that i've had in my fic ideas doc and all i did was make a google doc for them and word barf onto it my ideas, that's why there's so many small slices.

some slices are so small you don't even get to know my placeholder names. also i hope the title THTHIPWGI intrigues you, i'm always excited when i can title a fic right away and refer to it by a fun accyromn on my spreadsheet.

Other notable things from February:

I finished writing all of The Way We Are!! (kind of. i have one more scene to write. Monica's fault.)

I took over the @carry-on-sapphic-week event!! Check out the prompts if you haven't yet <3

I've received So Many beautiful valentines from the CO discord servers exchange. my mailbox and my heart has been full

The CO fandom was able to raise $500 for Fandom Trumps Hate!! (and I got to make a spreadsheet bc of this!!!) (also i won two auctions from this, one for each fandom i'm in)

My car battery died and I had to get a new one :/

I started a new journal!

I finally figured out how to spell February

my savage worlds campaign finally got our ship back and made it off this stupid planet that we've been on forever.

i've started watching Yellowjackets and I'm really enjoying it

I read so many CO AU fest fics and each one of them was so good. I think i've read all except one so far, and honestly this fest has been so fun i'm obsessed with you guys, you're are so talented.

SPEAKING of CO AU fest fics, @fiend-for-culture's fic, Everything In Between, is SO good, i've been thinking about it all week. you should read it (and leave a comment so i can read it bc i'm stalking the comments on this fic and there's not enough to sate me)

i have spring break in just one week!!

Okay, i promised you words, so here's a snip from my COBB.

“And I’m sorry,” Simon says. “For what?” “Driving you off yesterday.” “That wasn’t your fault. I was being terrible.” “Yeah,” Simon agrees. “But I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that.” I make a face. “I’m not having a heart-to-heart with you, Snow.” Simon groans. “Why do you have to do that?" "What" "Everytime I think we're making progress you say something nasty like that."

sorry this post is so long, thank you for reading if you made it this far

tags, hellos, and apologies:

@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @argumentativeantitheticalg @artsyunderstudy @arthurkko

@beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog @best--dress @bookishbroadwayandblind @bookish-bogwitch

@the-beard-of-edward-teach @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss @ciescen @confused-bi-queer

@cutestkilla @drowninginships @facewithoutheart @emeryhall @fiend-for-culture

@hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @theimpossibledemon @jyae23

@larkral @lovelettersto-mars @meanjeansjeans @m1ndwinder @monbons

@noblecorgi @orange-peony @prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple

@run-for-chamo-miles @rbkzz @shrekgogurt @simonscones @skee3000

@supercutedinosaurs @sweetronancer @talentpiper11 @toc-the-scrambled @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

added some new ppl to this tag list, feel free to share a wip you're working on—art, fic, etc. it does not have to stats like mine is loll. i use wipsdays as my soapbox.

[wishingforatypewriter]

From "Enemy Lines"

“Would you look at that skyline?” Baatar said as the airship flew toward the nascent Si Wong City. “The way the sunset reflects off the glass skyscrapers. It’s a marvel.”

“A marvel,” Kuvira repeated as she sidled up beside him, a wry smile in her voice. “That’s high praise. Now will our son actually get to hear it this time?”

“He only cares when Varrick says it.” 

“That isn’t true,” Kuvira said, taking his hand. “Varrick has become a mentor to him these past few years, but you’re Jae’s father.”

“A fact he only wishes to live down,” Baatar said with a sigh. “Where did I go wrong with him?” 

“You didn’t,” Kuvira said. “We didn’t. He’s just on his own path, like we were.” 

Baatar gave her a look. “You mean the path that put us on trial for war crimes?”

“By comparison our kids are doing great,” she replied. “Now, remember, no matter how Varrick and Zhu Li act, we have to be civil. Lily’s important to him.” 

Baatar raised an eyebrow. “Love, am I really the one of us who needs reminding? If I recall correctly, you’re the one with a record of attempted murder.” 

“Details.” Kuvira waved him off. “Anyway, we’re landing.” 

“I can already tell this is going to be an ordeal.” 

“It’s not like it'll be our first time behind enemy lines.”

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

part 1 of a little comic / art sequence that i've been working on! :D it's part tribute, part experimenting with brushes n colors and trying new thingz :]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | ... |

and thus continues my endless quest of spreading the carrot fics like a plague! if you've seen my art floating around you probs already figured that this au holds a very special place in my heart, forever and always!!

if you haven't heard of it, it's a fic series by @crowned-ladybug called carrot soup!! it made me wish i could speak colors and i need more people to share my struggle xd

go check it out if you're into sweet voice lore and qpr level gayness and just wanna feel warm and soft and warm (hurt/comfort my beloved) <333 there are some heavier themes cos everyone's traumatized but they're working through it! be sure to check the tags and stay safe! <3

[whitepeachrum]

For Me? For You

Fandom: Hetalia (personified) Pairing: Ivan x Kiku (RusPan/PanRus) Content Length: Short (~800 words)

It was the middle of the night when a loud set of knocks jolted Kiku from his sleep. What time was it..? He looked around in a daze, slowly computing that he had fallen asleep in his bed while reading one of his history textbooks for a class.

Kiku quickly got up and walked over to the door. He slowly peeked around the edge of it, making sure that the sudden change in brightness didn't give him a migraine.

“Yes?” Kiku asked, curious as to which floor resident needed him at this hour.

One of the taller residents, who often kept to himself, was standing before him. Kiku adjusted his large spectacles, trying to get a better look. What was his name again? Bra- Bruh-

“Ivan! Yes, Ivan. Is everything alright?”

“I apologize for bothering you at this hour,” Ivan smiled. He just stood there and smiled.

“How… can I help you?”

Ivan gestured for Kiku to open his door a bit more. Kiku obliged in confusion, but did not open it far enough to wake up his sleeping roommate. Not that anything could wake him up, really…

“This is for you,” Ivan picked up a bag he had earlier placed by the door and handed it to Kiku. It looked like there was a box inside.

“Eh? For me?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?” Kiku gingerly accepted the gift and looked inside the bag, making sure that there was nothing illegal inside. Many people have previously offered bribes in exchange for special treatment, but it never worked out in their favor.

“I heard you are a fan of cheesecake.”

Kiku blinked. Cheesecake? He loved cheesecake! Especially the ones with-

“Blueberries. I love the ones with blueberries.” Kiku admired the contents of the box with a glimmer in his eyes and a sudden appetite for a sweet treat. It would go splendidly with some tea, which would be perfect for a chilly night like tonight.

“Good, I am glad. Then you should definitely like this one,” Ivan continued to smile, happy that his secret little birdie did not lead him astray to strawberry cheesecake. Strawberry seemed a bit too cliche for a unique man like Kiku.

“Wow,” Kiku was entranced by the special gift. In fact, he was pleasantly surprised to have received something that wasn't illicit.

“It’s all for you.”

“Thank you. I….” Kiku blinked, “I didn't expect this at all. It almost seems too good to be true.”

“Please enjoy it. It's my treat.”

“Did… you want something in return..?”

“No, no. I don't need anything. Your happiness is more than enough,” Ivan turned to leave.

“Ah, wait. Ivan?”

“Hm?” Ivan stopped and looked around the corner at Kiku.

“Where did you find this?”

“Oh. I made it myself,” Ivan smiled one last time and disappeared into the stairwell.

He made it… himself?

Kiku closed the door behind him and brought his gift over to his desk. He carefully and quietly took the box out from the paper bag and set it down. It was so neatly packaged: a simple white box with no decorations other than a golden bow that wrapped around it and a folded business card.

He slid the card from under the ribbon and read it's contents.

“Happy Birthday, Kiku. - From, Ivan”

Kiku felt his heart skip a beat as he re-read the contents again. A simple note and yet it brought out the warmest feelings from within. How thoughtful was it of Ivan to even care enough to do all this?

Especially since he and Ivan haven't spoken much except the occasional “hello”s in the hallway. In fact, this was probably the most they’d ever spoken with one another.

But Kiku found it wasn't enough. He wanted to ask Ivan more questions like “how did he know that it was Kiku’s birthday” or rather “why he did any of this for him”. And it seemed like the further Ivan walked away, the more his desire to connect with him grew.

He noticed the phone number listed on the card and gave it a call, walking over to the window to see if he had gone far.

Ivan pulled his hand out of his pocket and answered the call.

“This is Ivan speaking. How can I help you?”

“Thank you again…”

Ivan stopped in his tracks as he recognized the voice. He turned around to look at Kiku’s window and found him staring back. Ivan's smile grew wider as he laid eyes on Kiku’s creepy-looking silhouette in the dead of the night. It looked hilariously eerie, but it was heartwarming to know he was there looking back at him.

“You’re welcome.” Ivan chuckled, his breath forming a cloud in the cold, dark night.

“Let’s enjoy the cake together when you come back. I’ll make some warm tea for us.”

“Sounds like a birthday party to me.”

[hamsamwich23]

Judgment: If he comes into the elevator while both of us are present the most important thing to remember is...

Judgment: We don't know each other

Judgment: To you I should remain an infant God who's mental blockage against your abilities irks you

Judgment: And in my eyes, you'll be the malicious puppet that, while I feel sympathetic for, I do not miss being in your place.

Folly: mmhhmmmhmmm. is that how you see me? A pitiful mannequin pawn?

Judgment: When we first met in that other world? Yes. You are Cruel. Foolish. Tragic even. Though your positive change in mood and desire was... interesting.

Judgment: and when I saw WHY you were more content there, and why you didn't want to go home...it started to come together.

Folly: ....It's odd of you to be able to see my darkest moments whenever you desire the knowledge, while I cannot even get around whatever horrible thing plagues your mind in those dreams.

Judgment: A tad bit hypocritical, I think it's normal for something in my situation.

Judgment: perhaps you should consider it...."a taste of your own medicine" as the saying goes.

Folly: ...

Folly: ...This plan of yours better result in nothing less than perfection.

[bleaksqueak]

Woah dang, waking up to 99+ notifs on tumblr almost always means that an old Homestuck piece is going around again... imagine my delighted surprise to see it was all notifs about Soli! That was a great thing to wake up to. Felt an actual flutter in my chest. Thank you so much, everyone! And apologies for how Elias' hair keeps subtly changing. You always kind of figure out exactly how a character looks and how to draw them as you go along with sequential art. It, funny enough, largely comes from figuring out their acting (so lots and lots of different angles and features that need to shift/change slightly to carry the weight of looking like they should feel, for lack of a better way to describe it ) At any rate, glad to see people are excited for chapter 3! next update will be next week, and will be a two page spread.

[wandixx]

I made a prompt some time ago and my brain couldn't let it go so I want to write an actual fic about it. But I need your help to do it.

You can find the prompt I'm talking about here. To summarize it quickly because I know it ended up kind of long. Dani was traveling around the USA and met/befriended some people, heroes and villains include. And then she left to see another place. It wouldn't be a problem if before she left, she said goodbye. She didn't so now they she got kidnapped and are panicing.

I have some ideas, some serious chaos I mentioned (about 2500 words and counting) or super serious chaos if things'll go properly, who knows, some Dani hangs out with Duke during his patrols and is low key his sidekick (5500 words and counting, everything on paper because why not?), both in much different places on a timeline, untouched but thought about idea for Dani and Conner clone budding AND one bit for when she met Flashfam and one when she asked Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy for autographs for Jazz and Sam.

But here is a thing. All I know about DC is from dpxdc tag and some fics on AO3. Also from dpxdc of course. So it means I don't know a jack shit about people outside of Batfam.

So, what I'm asking for is, if you have ideas who else Dani could mess with or/and links to fanfics with your favorite characterizations or character analysis here or on AO3, any way of communication you are comfortable with is open, please send it (maybe not in actual mail that would be both creepy and unreasonably expensive)

I can't exactly watch movies/cartoons because I fear my computer wouldn't survive that (I had a moment of black screen two times in the last twenty minutes and three more temporary freezes, how is this thing still running, and how it became my most reliable internet connection device?)

Anyway, send the links I beg you

[theokusgallery]

I see it now! I was literally reading and listening about their relationship in your podcast! i really thought that Statice and Nick DESPISE eachother. This AU is interesting, I love it vry vry much. Im not fond of it at first because I can't really Imagine Basil. Basil doing all of that stuff. because he's my favorite character(and I can't really see him being like that). But I eventually learnt to separate them and sees Nick as his own character. Like an actual oc(Still sees him a little bit as Basil if you understand what I mean)( can't wait when Sunny's other friend gets revealed or maybe the parents. *Maybe* they're not that important to the story but the CURIOSITY IS TOO STRONG AND SORRY FOR YAPPING HSJSKAK IT MUST BE TIRING TO ANSWER ANY OF MY QUESTIONS I WON'T DO THAT AGAIN)(Also excuse my grammar also, english is not my first language 😣)

-Anon from the previous previous post.

(the aura I felt after asking that is unimaginable. I used to be so shy to ask anything on people's blog so Im a *bit* proud of my confidence!)

Oh I see !!

Yeah Nick is... more or less an OC, he's got very little to do with Basil now. I refuse to cut of all ties to OMORI/Basil because it's very important to his origins and taking that from him would be taking out a lot of how I personally see him, but, well... He wasn't exactly based off of normal in-game Basil, either, so it makes sense that he's very different. He looks different, acts different, has a different family, age, personality, story, nationality even, different interests... He's like, 70% OC and 30% OMORI AU. Basil is also my favorite character, and that's not how I see him at all either.

I understand why you thought Statice and Nick hated each other — to be fair, there aren't a lot of people who don't hate Nick, lol. Being around him and knowing why he is the way he is makes it easier to love him, though.

[notthestarwar]

Snippet from: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Chapter 5

Ghost Mace speaks to past Jaster (alive) and tells him what he knows of Jango's future, in the life he lived.

Mace's brow stiffened. "When we realised what we had done, we tried to find him but we could not."

"We tried to find the True Mandolorian's but the survivors had fled in all directions. We did try and see justice done, there was an overhaul of our internal mission preparation process. We changed our training. Dooku left the order as did his apprentice."

"None of it could make up for what we did. Years after the fact, I learnt that Jango was sold in to slavery by the governor. It took him years to escape. I learnt of the weight of what we had done in helping end the True Mandolorian's. In leaving Death Watch unchecked."

He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango, but it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since the day I left on a mission to retrieve him; to attempt to offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."

" We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years." Mace shook his head.

"You hold no blame here, but we just might."

And isn't that a thing. His son haunting a Jedi even before that Jedi might haunt him.

Jango is tangled up in something here far beyond Jaster's reckoning.

Mace is laying out the constituent parts that when put together, make Jango in to the man that is responsible for the death of every single person standing in that warehouse. Jaster isn't sure where that leaves him, because once he's done hearing this story, in the years that lay ahead of them yet, every single one of these horrible pieces is going to fall in to place. Tragedy after Tragedy ready to be pasted and slapped on to the boy he loves, his son, in order to make him in to the man that did this.

How the hell can Jaster stand by and let that happen?

There are no rules that apply to Jaster, not anymore. He doesn't care about morality or the ethics of fucking with a future that's apparently already happened. He has no care for his own code, not now. None of it matters.

Jaster is Jango's buir, before all else. He has been from the day he stepped in to a smoldering farmhouse and against the odds saw signs of life dancing across his HUD. The Ka'ra gave him Jango and by god, it can stand back while he brings his son back from the abyss.

Mace is watching him. "Jaster, you had no hand in making Jango Fett the man he became at the end. You did not abandon him, you were taken from him. I need you to know this. You should know that none of this was your fault. "

Jaster doesn't care. It doesn't matter if its his fault or not, he is responsible all the same; because he wants to be. He didn't fall in to parenthood, he walked in to it willingly. For Jango, there is no monster that Jaster will not face.

The ka'ra has given him one last gift. The opportunity to see Jango's life after Jaster, and a few precious years in which to try and change them. It may not be in Jaster's power to save his son from himself but by god, he'll die trying.

He looks at the Jedi.  "Tell me the rest."

Some of my thoughts below the cut

Some of my thoughts (because clearly rambling in the comments hasn't been enough for me lol)

I had a lot of fun with this one. I've written about ghosts before but with this one, I went at it from another angle. In this au, ghosts aren't bound by linear time. If you do something that leaves a ghost tied to your soul, they are tied to you in the past as well as the future. Jango and Jaster are both Force Sensitive (tho with a Mando understanding of it. They call it 'star touched') and so can see ghosts.

In this fic, moving in with Jaster sets Jango on the path that brings him to the prequels. Once he's on that path, the ghosts that'll be tied to him in his future, can move freely along the timeline, with each of them pulled to a particular version of Jango. Jango will obviously be responsible for the deaths of quite a few people, there are his bounties, the Jedi and the clones and so on; but when the first ghost appears he's just a kid. The story deals with Jaster coming to terms with the fact that his kid, who he loves beyond reason, even if he stumbled upon him quite by accident, one day becomes the person that will make all these ghosts.

At first there's only one ghost in their time, but Jaster can't let it go (tho he knows he should), he needs to know what happens. So he keeps asking until she admits that she isn't the only ghost and that they are tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. Then, he keeps pushing until she introduces him to the others. She gathers them in a warehouse (so Jango doesn't see) and takes Jaster there.

In the part of the story this snippet is from, Jaster has just been confronted with an excessive number of people (including children) who are all tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. He's had a (understandable) freak out, and ghost Mace has taken him aside and offered to tell him what he knows of Jango's future, and how it led to the death of so many people.

What follows is a buddy up adventure between Mace and Jaster (unlikely duo) in which Jaster tries to come to terms with what Mace has told him, and the horrible events that led to Jango becoming the man that would one day be responsible for all these ghosts. While he tries to save Jango from himself, long before he needs saving.

The idea behind the fic is the inevitability of a tragedy. There's a feeling when you're watching a tragedy play out, that it's all so unnecessary, that it didn't need to happen, but you only know that because as the audience you know that they are in a tragedy, the characters don't know. So what if a character did know? Jaster is served advance notice, will having that allow him to save Jango, or will it just feed in to the fulfillment of this prophetic future?

I wanted to explore the fact that there's only so much one particular character can do, in trying to prevent the end another is headed towards and also, the power of familial love, even when it's found somewhere unexpected. Jaster isn't Jango's blood family, he didn't even know him till he was an older child, which I think makes his love for Jango in spite of knowing what he will become, all the more powerful. The glimpse of Jango's future is disgusting to Jaster, it goes against all he believes in, but its Jango so he can't hate him for it, he loves him too much and so, he's determined to save him from himself. He's willing to do the impossible.

Then there's Mace: so in this au, Mace is sent out shortly after Galidraan, when it becomes clear to the order that they've made a mistake, to find the survivor they left in the hands of the Governor, and to right a wrong. He isn't successful, he looks everywhere but he can't find him, and in the end the order write him off as dead. In this au, Jango was 18 on Galidraan and what Mace sees as his failure to save someone that was little more as a child, and suffered so greatly thanks to what the order see as their own neglect, haunts him for the rest of his career.

Its that idea of 'the one case you couldn't close'. It's at the start of his career and he goes on to do amazing things, Mace is peak Jedi, he invents a new form, he's one of the youngest Jedi to be elected to the council, he ends up heading that council, but he is still human (or near human lol sw complicates everything. he's 100% human in a fallible/emotional/sapient sense) I think that as a Master Jedi he's very aware of his own weaknesses, and he tries to work through it, he talks to it with other Jedi, and he certainly doesn't let it affect his judgement, but he can't forget it all the same.

So it's this version of Mace that ended up meeting Jango in the arena. Which I think adds such an interesting angle.

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[valdevia]

Very funny that tumblr is having discourse about whether my art is misinformation or not, after I've been posting it all over the internet for years without any controversy. So let's talk about it!

I know people arguing are a vocal minority, but I'm not going to dismiss anyone's concerns. It's an actually interesting topic that I really consider, and it touches some important issues in society. So here's my (rambly) two cents.

My art is meant to misdirect, in some way. Photomanipulation and the tone I typically use are meant to briefly confuse the person reading it into thinking they're hearing a real story, at least for a few seconds.

The Intended Experience™

In this sense, I feel like my art can be misinformation! And it's not only people who don't think critically about things like "how come I never heard about mermaids being real before?".

So, no disrespect to anyone that fell for one of my pieces! My work plays with reality, so if you fell for it for more than a minute, it just means my tone and style worked a little too well for you! And there are legitimate reasons to be confused when you see something online, too. For example, there are people who can have trouble telling real and fictional things apart. When you post something that goes out to a million people, you'll get one million different reactions.

That's why I always take care to make it really clear, outside the main piece and snippet of text, that my art is no more than fiction. There are tags, the tone of my account, even my profile picture is meant to reinforce this. I also have a website which, in part, is meant to capture the clicks of people to wonder if my stuff is real and google it, so they can find a real source that's clearly an art website. You can try googling "mycelium infection 1806" or "pupillosarcoma" to see how my website tends to appear first.

If I get this comment I know I've done something believable!

But let's say, for the sake of argument, that my art wholly constitutes misinformation. What we need to understand is that misinformation is not the same as disinformation. Misinformation is just incorrect information. It's your grandma seeing a little bit of a found footage movie on TV and thinking it really happened. She might be spooked, but nobody is harmed. Disinformation is false information that's purposefully crafted and spread in order to cause harm, division, or further a political view.

Now I ask you: what real world harm does my art create? The worst that can happen is that a tiny percentage of those that see it get a little scared thinking a weird bug is real, or that mushrooms really grow on faces, or that scientists have released millions of trilobites into the oceans. Is that really that bad?

Anyway, that's my take on the topic! I'm obviously biased, but this being my style, I do put a lot of thought into it and I'm always open to people's opinions! (Just don't scream at random people on the replies or you'll get blocked!)

[joelsrose]

Tangled in Paradise

my masterlist here!

Ahhhh here is chapter 1 of my new mini-series!! I am so freakin excited for you guys to read it, i've had so much fun writing it - to everyone waiting for my other stories thanks so much for being patient and i promise i will get to them! enjoy and let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in the next chapters xx

The marble counter was cool against under your skin, a welcome relief from the lingering heat of the day. You perched on the edge, scrolling through your phone with one hand, the other holding a burrito that was rapidly becoming your favorite part of the evening. Mimi, your cat, stretched luxuriously beside you, her fluffy tail flicking in idle disinterest as she basked in the low glow of the kitchen light.

Your thumb idly swiped up, Instagram reels flitting past like a mindless parade. A stupid AI-generated meme caught your attention—something ridiculous but hilarious enough to make you snort, burrito in hand.

The sound of a FaceTime notification cut through your laugh, your phone vibrating in your palm. The screen flashed with Maria’s name, her photo—a sunny candid of her grinning at a picnic—lighting up the display.

You swiped to answer.

Her face appeared, as vibrant and glowing as ever, framed by the golden light of her apartment. “Hey, girl!” she chirped, her voice carrying the kind of energy that made you suspicious.

“Hey, you,” you replied, taking a bite of your burrito mid-sentence. “Shouldn’t you be packing for your honeymoon in Hawaii or something?”

“It’s not a honeymoon,” Maria groaned, her eyes rolling so dramatically they could’ve done a full lap.

“Sure,” you drawled, giving her a knowing look. Maria and Tommy had been dating for a year and a half, and if anyone was going to get engaged in an annoyingly picture-perfect way, it was them. “But seriously,” you added, “don’t you leave in, like, two days?”

“Yeah, about that…” Her voice trailed off, her expression shifting to something between sheepish and conspiratorial.

You froze mid-chew. “Oh no. Are you guys okay? Don’t tell me you—”

“No!” she interrupted, waving her hands at the camera as if to swat the idea away. “God, you’re such a cynic.”

“Cynicism comes with being single,” you shot back, gesturing vaguely to your burrito.

She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Okay, so here’s the thing,” she said, leaning closer to her screen. “I have… a situation.”

“Go on,” you said, intrigued now.

Her sigh was long and theatrical. “For some reason, I let Tommy book our trip.”

“And?” you prompted, taking another bite.

“And the idiot accidentally booked a couples package,” she said, dragging out the words like they physically pained her.

You blinked, unfazed. “I don’t get it. You guys are a couple.”

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head so fast her hair whipped around her face. “He booked it for two couples. Four people.”

You nearly choked on your burrito, a laugh bursting from your chest. “Classic Tommy,” you said, grinning. “So? What’s the big deal? You’ve got a million couple friends. Pick one.”

“I’ve been asking around!” she huffed. “But everyone already has New Year’s plans, and the package is non-refundable.” She gave you a pointed look, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Oh no,” you said immediately, holding up a hand. “If this is going where I think it’s going—”

“Would you want to come?” she asked, her tone overly sweet. “You’re my best friend. You’re legally obligated to say yes.”

You stared at her, incredulous. “Maria, in case it wasn’t painfully obvious, I’m single.”

“I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “That’s why Tommy was going to ask his brother Joel to come along. That makes four people. Problem solved.”

You paused, brow furrowing. “Joel, huh?”

Maria nodded eagerly.

You thought about it for a moment. Joel. You didn’t know much about him—just snippets from Maria here and there. He worked with Tommy in construction, lived in Texas. You didn't even know what he looked like.

“I don’t know…” you hedged.

“Oh, come on,” Maria whined. “You’re not doing anything for New Year’s, and you know it. You’re just gonna sit at home, watch Bridget Jones’s Diary, and drink cheap wine with Mimi like you do every year.”

You glanced at Mimi, who stretched lazily, her tail flicking as if to agree. Maria wasn’t wrong.

“Plus,” she continued, her grin widening, “once we get there, you guys can do whatever you want. Hawaii! Beaches, cocktails, hot guys—live your best life.”

You sighed, the temptation starting to outweigh your resistance. A free trip to Hawaii with your best friend? Sand, sun, and maybe a chance to flirt your way into a memorable New Year’s Eve?

“Prettyyyyy please?” Maria hummed, drawing out the word in a way that made you laugh despite yourself.

“Okay,” you said finally, shaking your head. “I’m in.”

Maria let out a squeal of victory, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re the best! I’ll text you the details. Pack something cute!”

As the call ended, you set your phone down and looked at Mimi, who yawned lazily in response.

“Well,” you said, leaning back on the counter. “Looks like we’re skipping Bridget Jones this year.”

Hawaii, you thought. The idea felt distant, unreal. But as you glanced at the empty corner of your apartment where your suitcase sat gathering dust, you had a feeling this trip might just change more than your New Year’s plans.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

Hawaii was breathtaking. The kind of beauty that made you forget how much your neck hurt from the long flight or how unreasonably sweaty you felt in the tropical heat.

You leaned your head against the open window of the taxi, letting the warm wind tangle through your hair as you gazed out at the scenery. Endless shades of green blanketed the mountains in the distance, framed by the electric blue of the ocean stretching out to the horizon. Palm trees lined the road like an army of dancers frozen mid-sway, their fronds whispering in the breeze.

Maria sat beside you, her voice animated as she gave Tommy a play-by-play update on your whereabouts. “Yep, we’re just pulling in now,” she said, twisting her body slightly to look at the approaching hotel. “Alright, bye, love you!”

You turned to her, sticking a finger down your throat in mock disgust.

“Shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.

The taxi turned into a long driveway lined with torch-lit paths and vibrant hibiscus flowers in full bloom. As the hotel came into view, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning closer to the window.

It was like something out of a movie—a sprawling, open-air building with white stucco walls, wooden beams, and a terracotta-tiled roof. The entrance was framed by a massive archway, beyond which you could see a lush courtyard with fountains trickling water that sparkled in the sunlight.

A uniformed staff member waved the taxi forward, and your jaw nearly dropped as you took in the full view. The lobby was entirely open, its vaulted ceilings soaring toward the sky. Just beyond it, you could glimpse the infinity pool that seemed to spill directly into the ocean. The smell hit you next—salt air mixed with plumeria and something faintly sweet, like coconut.

“This is insane,” you said under your breath.

Maria beamed. “Right? This is so much better than the photos.”

The taxi slowed to a stop, and the driver hopped out to help you with your luggage. You tipped him generously and offered a polite “Mahalo,” feeling strangely self-conscious about whether you pronounced it right.

“Tommy already checked us in, so we can go straight to our room!” Maria practically bounced on her toes as she grabbed her carry-on. “Eeeeek, I’m so excited!”

“Me too,” you said with a grin, taking it all in. “And to think, you’ll be leaving here engaged.”

“Hey,” she said, giving you a mock glare. “Don’t jinx it.”

As you approached the entrance, a small group of staff members greeted you with warm smiles. A woman wearing a flowy dress in bright tropical prints stepped forward, holding a pair of leis made of fresh flowers. She draped one around Maria’s neck first, then yours, the cool petals brushing your collarbone as she said, “Aloha, and welcome.”

“Aloha,” you replied awkwardly, still feeling like an outsider in this slice of paradise.

Another staff member offered you both chilled glasses of pineapple juice, the condensation slicking your fingers. You took a sip and practically melted. It was fresh and sweet, with just the right amount of tartness.

“This is heaven,” Maria whispered as you followed the bellhop toward the elevator.

You couldn’t argue with her.

Everything about this place felt surreal—the golden light filtering through the palms, the faint hum of ukulele music from somewhere in the distance, and the soft roar of waves crashing against the shore. It was the kind of place where time seemed to slow down, urging you to forget the rest of the world existed.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“So,” Maria began, standing beside you in the elevator, glancing down at her phone. “Since it’s already…” she trailed off, squinting at the screen. “Five o’clock, how about we settle in, freshen up, and then have dinner around 6:30?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, leaning back against the elevator wall, the faint scent of hibiscus and sea salt lingering in the air.

The elevator chimed softly, announcing your arrival at the designated floor.

You followed her as she led the way down the long, carpeted corridor, passing room numbers etched into sleek gold plaques.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, stopping in front of Room 712. “This is us.”

Us? you thought, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. But you let it slide, figuring she meant she and Tommy.

Maria slipped the key card into the slot with a practiced flourish, and the door opened with a soft click. You stepped in behind her, expecting a hotel room. Maybe a nice one—Maria had said Tommy splurged—but this wasn’t a room.

It was a suite.

No, not just a suite—a goddamn palace disguised as a hotel suite.

Your breath hitched as you took it all in. The entryway alone was larger than your living room back home, its polished marble floors gleaming under warm recessed lighting. Beyond it, the suite opened into an expansive living space with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed an unbroken view of the turquoise ocean. Sheer white curtains swayed gently in the breeze from the open balcony doors, where plush loungers and a private hot tub overlooked the horizon.

To your left, an oversized sectional couch sat in front of a sleek flat-screen TV, its armrest stacked with neatly folded, resort-branded towels. To your right, a dining table made of dark, glossy wood was set for four, complete with fresh flowers and an ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.

“Shit, Maria,” you breathed, turning to her with wide eyes. “This is insane.”

“I know!” she squealed, grabbing your hands and bouncing up and down like a kid at Christmas. “We’re gonna have the best time!”

You were about to ask where you’d be staying when a familiar voice cut through the moment.

“Hey, baby,” Tommy called, appearing from one of the adjacent rooms. He grinned as he walked over, pulling Maria into a hug and kissing her lightly on the lips. “I thought I heard you. How was the flight?”

“Good,” she replied, resting her head briefly against his shoulder before pulling back to gesture around the suite. “This is incredible, Tommy.”

“Yeah, guess I didn’t fuck up too bad, huh?” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile softened.

Tommy’s gaze shifted to you, his grin widening. “Hey, darlin’. How’ve you been?”

You returned his smile as he pulled you into a friendly hug, the scent of sunscreen and a hint of aftershave clinging to him.

“Good, Tommy. You?”

“Better now that I’m in fucking Hawaii,” he said with a laugh, gesturing around dramatically.

You laughed, too, feeling some of the tension from the long day begin to melt away. Tommy had always been easy to like—funny, respectful, and completely devoted to Maria. He had that older brother vibe with you, always quick to check in and make you laugh when you needed it.

“So,” you said, glancing around. “Do I have a room key or something?”

Maria and Tommy exchanged a quick glance, his arm still draped casually around her shoulders.

“Oh,” Tommy said, scratching the back of his neck as he turned to Maria. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, the first twinges of unease creeping in.

Tommy gestured around the suite. “This is it. The suite. We’re all staying here. There are two big rooms—come on, I’ll show you!”

Before you could even react, Tommy had slipped his arm around yours, steering you further into the space like an overenthusiastic tour guide.

“Maria—” you started, but he was already pointing things out.

“Look at this place!” Tommy exclaimed, his voice brimming with the kind of excitement that made it hard to stay mad at him. He pointed at the sprawling living room like a proud real estate agent. “Big-ass TV, private balcony, minibar—it’s nuts. And wait ‘til you see the bedrooms. King-sized beds, the works.”

You shot a quick glance over your shoulder, catching Maria hovering by the door. She met your glare with a sheepish shrug, mouthing a silent sorry, her lips curving into an awkward half-smile.

Sorry? That was all she had to say?

Tommy was already leading you deeper into the suite, his arm draped comfortably around yours, blissfully unaware of the rising irritation simmering beneath your polite nods.

“Over here’s the kitchen,” Tommy said, gesturing to a sleek, open-concept area with dark wood cabinets, marble countertops, and stainless steel appliances that gleamed like they’d never been touched. “I mean, not that we’re cooking or anything, but still—pretty sweet, huh?”

You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation that this wasn’t just their setup—it was your setup, too.

“And here,” Tommy said, stopping in front of a door, “is one of the bedrooms.” He swung it open with a flourish.

The room was absurdly gorgeous. A king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in crisp white linens with a soft, seafoam-green throw draped across the foot. The headboard was made of rich, dark wood, its edges carved with delicate floral patterns that gave the room an understated elegance. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened to a private balcony, where you could already hear the gentle crash of waves in the distance.

“Not bad, huh?” Tommy grinned, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not bad?” you echoed, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in your tone. “Tommy, this is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously awesome,” he corrected, winking.

You let out a breath, forcing a smile as you turned back toward the living room. Maria was still hovering by the door, clearly trying to avoid eye contact.

“Maria,” you hissed, your voice low but sharp as you made your way over to her.

She plastered on an innocent smile. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” you whispered, glancing back to make sure Tommy wasn’t listening. “You didn’t think to mention we’re all staying in the same suite?”

She shrugged again, this time with exaggerated nonchalance. “I didn’t think it was a big deal! The place is huge. You’ll hardly even notice.”

“Hardly notice?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly before you caught yourself. You took a calming breath, lowering your tone again. “Maria, I thought I’d have my own room. My own space.”

“You do have your own space!” she insisted, gesturing toward the suite with a grin. “Look around—it’s basically a mansion. And Tommy said the other bedroom is just as nice as this one.”

“Maria,” you started, pinching the bridge of your nose.

She cut you off with a dramatic sigh, stepping closer to loop her arm through yours. “Look, I know this isn’t what you were expecting, but come on. It’s Hawaii. The suite is incredible. We’re gonna have an amazing time.”

“I didn’t realize me and Joel would be sharing a fucking room together!” you hissed, keeping your voice low but sharp.

Maria waved a dismissive hand, her expression almost too breezy. “It’s fine. Joel’s a gentleman. He’ll sleep on the couch or something.”

“Oh, so I’ll just be the bitch who forced a man to sleep on a couch during his vacation?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Maria winced, but only slightly. “You’re being dramatic.”

You raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Am I?”

She stepped forward, placing her hands on your shoulders, her expression softening into the kind of pout that had gotten her out of trouble since you were in college. “Please,” she murmured, drawing out your name like a plea. “It’ll be fine. Joel’s easygoing. And think about it—how much time are you really gonna spend in the room? You’ll barely even notice.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off again. “Plus,” she added, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper, “I’m getting engaged this week. You can deal with this, right? For meee?”

Her eyes were wide and imploring, and despite every bone in your body wanting to say no, the guilt crept in like an uninvited guest. You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

She was right. You could deal with it. Worst-case scenario, you’d take the damn couch yourself. It was a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things… right?

“Okay,” you said finally, the word coming out like a reluctant exhale. “Okay. Yeah. Fine.”

Maria’s face lit up like the Fourth of July. “You’re the best! I owe you one,” she said, pulling you into a quick, triumphant hug.

“Oh, you owe me big,” you muttered, your voice muffled against her shoulder.

She pulled back, grinning. “I promise, this is gonna be the best trip ever. You’ll see.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You stepped into the room you’d be sharing with Joel and let out a long sigh. It was gorgeous, of course, just like the rest of the suite—spacious, luxurious, and dripping with the kind of elegance that made you feel like an imposter just by being there.

The centerpiece was a king-sized bed that dominated the room, its crisp white linens layered with soft, seafoam-green pillows that practically begged you to sink into them.

A pair of matching nightstands flanked the bed, each topped with sleek glass lamps that cast a warm, inviting glow. Across from the bed, a low, polished dresser supported a large flat-screen TV, and the far wall was made entirely of glass, leading out to a private balcony. Through the sliding doors, you could see the ocean stretching endlessly, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance.

It was beautiful. It was serene. And it was yours… and Joel’s.

Sharing a room with a stranger wasn’t exactly how you imagined this trip starting, but it wasn’t like you could back out now.

You smoothed down your clothes and stepped out into the suite’s living room. The evening light poured through the massive windows, painting the space in shades of gold and orange. Maria and Tommy were curled up on the couch together, her head resting on his chest as they laughed softly at something he’d said.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you called, leaning against the arm of the couch.

“Hey!” Maria greeted you with a bright smile, sitting up slightly while Tommy offered you a quick nod.

“So, uh…” you began, shifting awkwardly. “Is Joel—?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy said, interrupting you as he sat up straighter. “The idiot missed his flight.” He shook his head, though there was no real malice in his voice, only amusement. “But he’ll be here soon.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding. “Okay. I think I’m gonna take a shower in the meantime.”

“Alright,” Maria replied, stretching her legs out across Tommy’s lap.

But just as you turned to head back to your room, Tommy’s voice stopped you.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his tone softening as you glanced back. “I think you two will really get along.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he continued, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I know it’s a weird situation—sharing a room and all—but Joel’s… he’s a good guy.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond but unable to stop the flicker of curiosity sparking in your chest.

“Well,” you said finally, “I guess we’ll see.”

Tommy grinned, leaning back into the couch as Maria nestled closer to him.

You turned and headed for your room, the sound of waves and the low murmur of their voices fading behind you. As you closed the door, you couldn’t help but glance at the bed again. Sharing a room might be awkward, sure—but it might also be the most interesting part of this trip.

And something told you that Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man you could easily forget.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The shower was as luxurious as the rest of the suite, a spa-like haven of sleek stone tiles in earthy tones that stretched from floor to ceiling. The water cascaded from a wide, rain-style showerhead above, warm and steady, like a soothing tropical downpour.

Built-in shelves held miniature bottles of fragrant shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, each scented faintly of coconut and vanilla. Soft recessed lighting bathed the space in a warm glow, and a small, fog-free mirror was cleverly positioned above a polished stainless-steel bench.

You hummed softly, the sound mingling with the rhythmic patter of water as you worked shampoo through your hair. The gentle steam wrapped around you like a cocoon, loosening the knots in your muscles and leaving your skin dewy and warm.

This was paradise, you thought, your hands scrubbing at your scalp. For the first time in months—years, maybe—you felt truly relaxed. No deadlines, no responsibilities, just the soothing rush of water and the faint scent of the ocean wafting through the cracked bathroom window.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice rang out from the living room, muffled by the sound of the shower.

You turned the water pressure down just enough to hear her better. “Yeah?”

“Tommy and I are gonna head out and grab a coffee. Do you want anything?”

“Ooh! An iced vanilla latte please!” you shouted back, your voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls.

“Got it!” she called. “We’ll lock up behind us.”

“Okay!” you yelled, adjusting the temperature slightly.

A soft click of the door signaled their departure, the quiet settling over the suite like a warm blanket. You were alone now, the world outside reduced to the distant hum of waves and the steady rhythm of water hitting the tiles.

You sighed, working conditioner through the ends of your hair, letting the tension in your shoulders melt away. This was perfect. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of peace—a moment entirely yours, untouched by worry or distraction.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The bathroom was warm and hazy with steam, the scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air as you wrapped a fluffy white towel around yourself. Your hair dripped in lazy rivulets down your back, and you ran a hand through it, reveling in the feeling of complete relaxation. This was bliss.

You barely registered the muffled sound of the suite door opening, or the faint, low rumble of a man’s voice calling, “Tommy?” from the living room. Even if you had, it would have been drowned out by your impassioned rendition of Smooth Operator, your voice echoing off the bathroom tiles as you gave yourself over to the moment.

Joel Miller—unknowingly your temporary roommate—entered the shared room with his eyes glued to his phone, his brow furrowed in mild annoyance. His thumb scrolled idly as he typed out a text to Tommy, Where the hell are you? He muttered something to himself under his breath, the deep, low timbre of his voice carrying a faint Texas drawl.

Completely oblivious, he walked toward the bed, not noticing the neatly folded pile of your clothes sitting on top of it, or your travel bag perched on the dresser. His focus was laser-sharp on the glowing screen in his hand, his frustration apparent in the slight clench of his jaw and the furrow of his dark brows.

You didn’t hear him.

He didn’t see you.

Not until you pushed the bathroom door open, a plume of steam rolling out ahead of you as you stepped into the main room.

And there he was.

Standing by the bed, his broad shoulders filling the space as effortlessly as the sunlight spilling in from the balcony. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his scruff-lined jaw shifted as he frowned down at his phone. He was gorgeous.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

Joel, still engrossed in whatever was on his screen, didn’t notice you at first. Then, slowly, his head lifted—like he sensed your presence—and his eyes landed on you.

The moment stretched, silent and charged.

And then you screamed.

Like, actually screamed.

Joel jumped, his phone nearly slipping from his hand as his wide eyes shot up to meet yours. “Jesus Christ!” he barked, his voice rough and sharp, like gravel. “What the hell—”

“What the hell?” you shrieked back, clutching your towel tighter as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

Joel held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender, his phone dangling precariously between his fingers. “Hey, easy! I—” His words faltered as his gaze flickered—briefly, too briefly—to the towel clinging to your body before snapping back to your face. His cheeks flushed slightly, though his tone remained gruff. “I didn’t know you were… here.”

“You didn’t know?” you sputtered, taking a defensive step back toward the bathroom door. “What are you even doing in my room?”

Joel frowned, gesturing vaguely at the space around him. “Your room? Pretty sure this is my room too.”

Your jaw dropped, words failing you for a moment as your mind scrambled to process the situation. “You—you’re Joel?”

His brow lifted slightly, his mouth twitching into what might have been a smirk if the situation weren’t so absurd. “That’d be me,” he said, his voice dipping lower.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your damp face. “Of course. Of course this is how I meet you.”

Joel crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the edge of the bed as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Look, didn’t mean to scare you, alright? Figured this room was empty when I didn’t see Tommy’s stuff.”

“Well, it’s not empty,” you shot back, your cheeks burning. “Clearly.”

“Yeah, I got that now,” he said dryly, his lips quirking into something dangerously close to a smile. His gaze flickered briefly to the bathroom door, then back to you, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “You, uh… wanna put on some clothes before we keep yellin’ at each other?”

Your face burned, heat flooding your cheeks as the reality of the situation hit you. You were still standing there, dripping wet and wrapped in nothing but a towel, completely exposed in every possible way.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, tightening your grip on the towel.

His eyebrows shot up, and damn it, he looked smug about it. That stupid little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that only made him seem more amused.

Before you could say anything else—or throw something at him—Tommy burst into the room, Maria trailing close behind, both of them wide-eyed and holding coffee cups.

“Hey!” Tommy shouted, his voice loud and panicked. “Are you alright? We heard screaming—”

He froze mid-sentence, his gaze bouncing between you, half-naked and flushed, and Joel, standing entirely too casually by the bed.

Maria’s hand flew to her mouth, barely stifling a laugh as she took in the scene, her eyes dancing with poorly concealed amusement.

“Maria!” you snapped, your voice a sharp plea as you clutched the towel tighter around you.

Tommy, meanwhile, didn’t miss a beat. He grinned, his worry evaporating in an instant as he stepped toward Joel. “Hey, big bro,” he said, pulling Joel into a quick hug, completely unfazed by the tension in the room.

“Hey,” Joel replied, his voice smooth and easy, like this whole situation wasn’t absolutely mortifying.

“How was your flight?” Tommy asked, stepping back as if this were the most normal reunion in the world.

“Good,” Joel said, shrugging as he turned to Maria. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, his tone softening just slightly. “Hey, Maria.”

You stood there, utterly stunned, your mouth slightly open as the three of them exchanged greetings like you weren’t standing there, soaking wet and humiliated in the middle of the room. It was laughable. It was absurd.

Maria caught your desperate look and cleared her throat, nudging Tommy. “We should, uh…”

“Right,” Tommy agreed, glancing at the coffees in his hands. “We should get outta your hair.”

Joel, however, didn’t move right away. His gaze flicked back to you, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes dragging over you in a way that felt both infuriating and electric. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening.

“See you soon, roomie,” he drawled, the emphasis on the word sending a jolt of annoyance through you. He finished with a wink that made your stomach twist in ways you didn’t care to analyze.

You barely managed to hold back a growl as he turned and followed Tommy and Maria out of the room, their laughter trailing behind them. The door clicked shut, leaving you standing there, still clutching your towel and feeling like the universe’s favorite punchline.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the door. “This is just great.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

You sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, staring at the crisp white linens like they might hold the answer to your predicament. For thirty long minutes, you debated your options, none of which seemed remotely appealing.

Option one: walk out there and pretend like nothing happened, even though Joel’s smug face was now burned into your memory. Option two: stay in this room for the rest of the vacation, surviving on room service and spite. Option three: book a flight home and disappear into the dead of night, leaving Maria to deal with the fallout of her matchmaking debacle.

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands.

Your phone buzzed, the soft ding breaking the silence. You picked it up, already bracing yourself.

Maria: You gonna come out or stay in there forever?

You sighed heavily, typing back a quick response. You: Maria, this is so embarrassing.

Her reply came almost immediately. Maria: It’s not. Can Joel come and get settled? The poor guy.

Poor guy? Was she kidding? Poor you!

You sighed again, the sound loud and dramatic even to your own ears. Fine. If Joel needed to get into the room so badly, you weren’t going to be the one standing in his way. You: Yes. He can.

Maria’s response came with an infuriating kissy-face emoji that made you want to hurl your phone across the room.

A sharp knock on the door startled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

And then the knock came again. And again. And again.

You rolled your eyes, standing up and calling out, “Yes?”

“Hey, it’s Joel,” his voice came from the other side of the door, deep and slightly muffled. He kept knocking.

Still knocking.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you shouted, exasperated.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Are you clothed?”

You threw your hands in the air, your irritation bubbling over. “Jesus Christ!”

He laughed softly through the door, the sound aggravatingly charming.

You stormed to the door and yanked it open, ready to let him have it—but the words caught in your throat when you saw him. Joel stood there, hand still raised mid-knock, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe, his broad shoulders filling the space effortlessly, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Just makin’ sure,” Joel said, his tone easy as his gaze flicked over you, his eyes pausing briefly on your flushed cheeks before settling on yours. There was a teasing glint in his expression, the kind that made your pulse do a little stumble.

You stood there, arms crossed, doing your best to meet his gaze without faltering.

He tilted his head slightly, his brow lifting as he watched you.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharp, defensive.

“You’re, uh…” he gestured toward the doorframe with a small tilt of his chin, “kinda in the way.”

“Oh.” You blinked, flustered, before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Joel stepped past you, his eyes scanning the room with a low whistle. “This place is insane,” he said, his voice warm with genuine awe. “Fuckin’ worlds away from Texas.”

You almost smiled, thankful he didn’t make the whole towel incident more awkward than it already was.

He turned to you then, leaning casually against the edge of the dresser, his arms crossing over his chest. “So,” he began, his voice dipping into something dangerously close to playful. “I see you claimed the right side of the bed.”

“Is that a problem?” you shot back, mirroring his crossed arms with your own.

“Nah.” Joel shook his head, his lips quirking into that same infuriating smirk. “I should be closest to the door anyway.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“In case a murderer comes in,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What the hell?” you asked, staring at him.

“What?” He gave you a look, like you were the one being unreasonable. “Us men gotta think about these things.”

You were about to reply—maybe point out how absurd he sounded—but the words died on your tongue as Joel casually reached behind his neck, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and shrugged it off in one smooth motion.

Your breath caught.

He stood there, completely unbothered, the golden light from the balcony casting shadows across the toned muscles of his chest. His skin was sun-kissed, his shoulders broad and strong, with a faint trail of dark hair running down his stomach. It was like something out of a magazine—effortless, masculine, and almost unbearably unfair.

You gulped, suddenly forgetting how words worked.

Joel caught your stare, his mouth twitching into that damn smirk again. “What’re you doin’?” you managed, your voice higher than you intended.

“What does it look like?” he replied, tossing his shirt onto the back of a chair like he owned the place. “Seriously, if you’re gonna freak out every time I take my shirt off, we’re gonna have a problem.”

You blinked at him, floundering for a response.

“We’re in Hawaii,” he added, gesturing vaguely toward the balcony as if to drive his point home.

“I know that,” you snapped, crossing your arms tighter, though the heat rushing to your face wasn’t helping your case.

Joel grinned, shaking his head as he grabbed a towel from the dresser. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said, his tone light, teasing, like this was all some game he was enjoying far too much.

You stood there for a moment after Joel disappeared into the bathroom, the faint click of the door echoing through the room. It was ridiculous how your heart was racing, how the heat lingering in your cheeks wouldn’t budge no matter how many deep breaths you took.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself as you crossed the room. “Unbelievable. Insufferable.” You tossed a glance at the bathroom door, half-expecting Joel to stick his head out and throw another one of those infuriating comments your way. But all you could hear was the sound of the shower turning on, the steady stream of water muffling whatever he might be saying to himself in there.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else. You unpacked a few things, neatly folding your clothes into the dresser drawers, your movements quick and sharp. But your mind refused to stay on task, wandering back to the way Joel had just… shrugged off his shirt like it was nothing. Like he didn’t notice—or care—how good he looked doing it.

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you shoved the last of your shirts into the drawer. You’d met plenty of flirty guys before, but there was something about Joel—something about the way he seemed so at ease, so himself, that made him impossible to ignore.

The bathroom door opened, and Joel stepped out, a cloud of steam following him like it was part of his aura. He was shirtless, of course, a white towel slung casually around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His damp hair curled slightly at the ends, darker now that it was wet, and he was rubbing the back of his neck as though he hadn’t just walked out looking like a whole damn Calvin Klein ad.

You froze, your hand still on the drawer handle, and for the briefest second, you considered looking away. But Joel caught your gaze before you could, his lips curving into that easy, teasing grin.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your unpacking,” he said, his tone warm and playful. “Figured you’d need the bathroom soon.”

“I—uh—yeah,” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how pathetic that sounded.

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know,” he drawled, “you don’t have to look so nervous. I don’t bite.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Unless you’re into that.”

Your mouth fell open, and you snapped it shut again almost immediately. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, pushing past him toward the bathroom.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson, its golden light filtering into your room through the slightly ajar door leading to the suite’s main balcony. From outside, you could hear Maria, Tommy, and Joel’s voices carrying on the ocean breeze—easy laughter and teasing banter.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, your back resting against the edge of the bed. The large mirror propped in front of you reflected your half-done makeup, the bronzer brush in your hand hovering mid-air as you muttered a curse under your breath. You were running late—distracted by the events of the afternoon.

Behind you, the bed was a mess of organized chaos: two dresses—one slinky and black, the other vibrant red—lay sprawled across the sheets, along with a carefully chosen collection of jewelry. Your music played softly from your phone on the floor, and you hummed along absentmindedly between swipes of blush.

What you didn’t notice was the sound of the balcony door sliding open, or the way Joel sauntered into the room like he had all the time in the world.

He wore a pale linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, paired with beige shorts that hung low on his hips. The soft golden light of the setting sun kissed his skin, highlighting the faint sheen of the humid evening air. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he’d just run his fingers through it, and he carried two beers in hand, the bottles clinking softly as he moved.

“Hey,” he said casually, his deep drawl breaking through your concentration as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed behind you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

You jumped slightly, your eyes darting to the mirror where you caught his reflection. Your gaze locked with his, and for a moment, the air in the room felt heavier, smaller. “Hey,” you replied, suddenly hyper-aware of the blush brush in your hand and the faint flush already spreading across your cheeks.

Joel leaned back slightly, one elbow propped on the mattress, his expression easy but his eyes sharp as he studied you. “Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said with a faint grin, holding out one of the beers. “Beer?”

You shook your head quickly, turning back to the mirror and dabbing more blush onto your cheeks, as if that could somehow cool the warmth rising to your face. “Oh, no thank you. Can’t stand the taste of beer.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, twisting the cap off one of the bottles with practiced ease. “Can’t stand it?”

You laughed softly, glancing at him through the mirror. “Nope. I don’t get how anyone likes it.”

He chuckled, taking a swig before setting the untouched bottle on the nightstand. “Guess that means more for me.”

The silence between you settled, not awkward but charged, the kind of silence that felt heavy with words unspoken. Joel’s gaze drifted to the bed beside him, his fingers brushing over the fabric of the red dress before he glanced back at you.

“So,” he began, his tone teasing but gentle. “Which one are you plannin’ on?”

Your hand froze mid-swipe, and you turned to face him fully, your lips parting slightly. “I, uh…” You looked between him and the dresses, suddenly feeling shy under his steady gaze.

Joel tilted his head, his grin shifting into something softer, more crooked. “C’mon, roomie. You gotta pick. Red or black?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I was leaning toward the black one,” you admitted, though you weren’t entirely sure why you felt the need to explain.

Joel nodded thoughtfully, his fingers brushing the fabric of the red dress again before he picked it up, holding it out as though inspecting it more closely. “Black’s classy. Safe,” he said slowly, his voice quieting. “But…” He paused, swallowing hard enough that you noticed. “I think red.” His usual confidence faltered for a fleeting moment, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to the dress. “Red would look, uh… really good.”

Something in his voice—almost awkward, but sincere—made your chest tighten. “Okay,” you said softly, turning back to the mirror before the moment stretched too long. “I’ll think about it.”

Joel nodded, setting the dress back down just as your timer went off on your phone. You swore softly, rushing to finish your blush. “Shit, I swear I’m almost done,” you said, glancing at Joel apologetically.

Joel stayed exactly where he was, his gaze still on you in the mirror, his voice warm and easy. “Hey,” he said. “Take your time. We’re not in a hurry.”

You hesitated, meeting his eyes through the reflection. “You sure? I don’t want to hold everyone up.”

Joel shook his head, his grin softening. “We’re in Hawaii. Ain’t no rules about bein’ late here. Besides, worth the wait.”

Your chest tightened again, and this time, you couldn’t quite hide the faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” Joel replied, leaning back on his hands. “I’ll, uh, let you get ready.”

His gaze caught on something on the bed, and he reached out, picking up the delicate necklace you’d set aside. “Oh. Did you need help with this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

“It’s really no problem,” Joel said, already standing and crouching down behind you.

The warmth of him was immediate, his presence so close that you swore you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your neck. “Here,” he murmured, his voice lower now. “Hold still.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you lifted your hair, exposing the back of your neck. Joel’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he fastened the clasp, his touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he said, his voice soft as his hands dropped back to his sides.

You turned slightly, catching his gaze in the mirror. His eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said a word.

“Perfect,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Thanks.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The hotel grounds were even more breathtaking at night. The warm glow of lanterns lined the stone pathways, their soft light spilling onto lush tropical plants and casting flickering shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the mingling scents of saltwater and frangipani, and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore carried through the warm breeze.

Maria and Tommy walked ahead of you, their hands interlocked, their laughter soft and easy. Maria wore a flowing emerald-green dress that seemed to shimmer as she moved, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her glowing face. Tommy leaned toward her as she said something, his smile wide and unrestrained as he brushed a kiss against her temple. They looked like something out of a postcard—effortlessly in love and perfectly matched.

You and Joel followed behind, your steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. His hands were tucked casually into the pockets of his shorts, the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt revealing the golden tan of his forearms. The easy sway of his stride gave him an air of confidence that felt completely natural, like he didn’t even realize the effect he had on people—or maybe he did, and just didn’t care.

As you passed beneath an arch of twinkling string lights, Joel glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching the light for a brief moment before his lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“So,” he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You listened to me, huh?”

You glanced up at him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He nodded subtly toward your dress, the red fabric clinging to your figure in all the right ways. “The red,” he said, his grin turning slightly crooked. “Told you it’d look good.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, the heat crawling up your neck despite the cool evening breeze. You glanced down at the dress, brushing invisible lint off the fabric as you tried to steady your voice. “Thanks,” you said lightly, tilting your head just enough to give him a sidelong glance. “Guess you’ll be my fashion advisor for the trip.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and rich, like a melody you didn’t realize you wanted to hear on repeat.

“Careful now,” he said, leaning closer as his voice dropped just a fraction. “You let me make too many decisions, and next thing you know, I’ll have you in cowboy boots and denim shorts.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Never say never, roomie,” he teased, his grin widening as his arm brushed yours for a fleeting moment.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for a few beats, your steps in sync as you followed the soft glow of lanterns illuminating the path. Maria and Tommy’s laughter floated back to you from up ahead, their silhouettes framed by the soft flicker of string lights.

“So,” Joel said after a moment, leaning slightly toward you as though he were sharing some grand secret. “Tommy thinks Maria has no clue he’s gonna propose.”

You glanced up at him, your brow furrowing. “Seriously?”

Joel nodded, his grin growing more playful. “Yep. Poor guy’s convinced she hasn’t pieced it together.”

“She’s got a hunch,” you said knowingly, the corners of your mouth quirking into a small smile.

Joel let out a warm laugh, the sound easy and genuine. He leaned a little closer, his voice dipping just enough to feel more personal. “So,” he began casually, though the teasing edge in his tone gave him away, “you, uh… got a boyfriend or something?”

Your steps faltered slightly, and you turned to look at him fully, raising an eyebrow. “Joel,” you said, your voice dry but amused. “If I had a boyfriend, do you think I’d be here on a couples trip, with someone who is not my boyfriend?”

Joel blinked, his lips parting as he realized how ridiculous the question was. “Oh,” he said quickly, his grin softening into something sheepish. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you replied, brushing it off with a wave of your hand.

Joel’s smile returned, his gaze flicking over you with an almost curious warmth. “Just find it hard to believe,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now, more sincere.

You blinked, caught slightly off guard by the shift in his tone. “Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes to cover the sudden flutter in your chest. “Does that line usually work for you?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, his expression turning playfully indignant. “What line?”

“The cheesy pickup lines,” you shot back, your lips curving into a smirk.

“I’m being serious,” he said, his tone dipping into something earnest, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

“Mhm,” you replied, your voice laced with mock skepticism as you tilted your head at him.

Joel let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head as though genuinely disappointed. “Wow. So cynical,” he said, his grin returning as he leaned slightly closer, the heat of his gaze brushing over you. “Bet you’re a real hit at parties.”

Before you could fire back a retort, Maria’s voice called out from ahead, cutting through the night air. “Guys, hurry up! We’re gonna miss the live music!”

Joel turned toward her voice, then glanced back at you with a grin that was all charm and mischief. “Better pick up the pace,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing. “Wouldn’t wanna get left behind and have to serenade you myself. Though, fair warnin’—my singin’ ain’t free.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you quickened your step. “Lucky for you, Joel, I’m not paying to hear whatever cowboy karaoke you’ve got up your sleeve.”

Joel chuckled, falling into stride beside you. “Careful,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Talk like that, and you’re gonna hurt my feelin’s.”

“Somehow, I think you’ll survive,” you replied with a grin, your heart skipping as his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long.

As the two of you caught up with Maria and Tommy, the warm glow of the hotel lights and the faint hum of music ahead set the perfect stage for the night—and for whatever this thing between you and Joel was slowly becoming.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

“Holy shit,” Tommy murmured as you all stepped into the restaurant.

And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

The place was stunning, a picture of understated luxury that somehow felt warm and inviting rather than intimidating. The open-air design let in the salty breeze, while woven lanterns hung from high wooden beams, casting soft, flickering light across the room. The walls were draped with lush greenery, accented by vibrant tropical flowers that seemed too perfect to be real. Somewhere in the background, the faint hum of live music blended seamlessly with the rhythmic crash of waves.

“This place is insane,” Joel murmured beside you, his deep drawl laced with quiet awe as his gaze swept across the space.

You glanced at him, catching the way the soft lighting brushed over the angles of his face, highlighting the faint scruff along his jaw and the warm brown of his eyes. “Not bad, huh?” you said with a small smile, your voice teasing.

He nodded, his lips curving into a slight grin. “Guess Tommy finally got somethin’ right.”

A waiter appeared, all effortless poise as he greeted you with a warm smile. “Right this way,” he said, motioning for you to follow.

The four of you trailed him through the restaurant, past tables filled with couples leaning into quiet conversations and groups laughing over cocktails. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across polished wood and crisp white tablecloths, giving the whole place a dreamy, golden hue.

The waiter led you outside to a terrace overlooking the ocean, where more lanterns were strung across the open space, their warm light mingling with the silver glow of the moon reflecting off the water. The sound of the waves was louder here, blending with the distant strum of a ukulele from the live band.

Maria and Tommy slid into one side of the table, their fingers already interlocking as they settled in. Joel, without hesitation, pulled out a chair next to yours and gestured for you to sit.

“Ladies first,” he said, his grin softening into something almost gentlemanly.

You gave him a small nod, sinking into the seat. He followed, sitting beside you with the kind of ease that made it seem like he’d been doing this for years.

“Here are the menus,” the waiter said, placing them delicately in front of you. “And the drink menus.” He offered a quick, practiced smile. “I’ll be with you shortly.”

As soon as he disappeared, Tommy leaned forward, flipping open the drink menu with wide eyes. “This place has everything,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Maria laughed, resting her chin on her hand as she glanced at her boyfriend. “Don’t get too excited. You still have to pay for it.”

“Worth it,” Tommy replied, already scanning the cocktails.

Beside you, Joel leaned back in his chair, his arm resting casually along the back of yours. He opened his menu with one hand, but his attention wasn’t on it—it was on you.

“See anything you like?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

You glanced at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “The menu just got here.”

“Not talkin’ about the menu,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening just enough to make your pulse skip.

“Jesus,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head and focusing hard on the menu in front of you.

Joel laughed, the sound warm and rich, as he grabbed a menu for himself. “Relax,” he said, flipping lazily to the drinks page, his eyes scanning the options with a faint smirk.

After a moment, he leaned closer, angling the menu so you could see it too. His shoulder brushed yours, the warmth of his presence impossibly distracting. “Hey, look,” he said, pointing to a section of colorful, overly elaborate cocktails. “These all sound fancy. Perfect for you.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing at the names—everything from Tropical Temptation to Hibiscus Bliss. “You think I’m a ‘fancy cocktail’ kind of person?”

Joel’s grin grew wider. “I dunno. Thought you might enjoy somethin’ a little sweeter. Balance out all that sass.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back, Joel straightened in his seat, his gaze lighting up with a spark of mischief. “Hey, let’s play a game,” he said, turning to face you more fully.

You frowned, your curiosity piqued despite yourself. “What kind of game?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dipping low as though sharing a secret. “Simple. I choose your drink, you choose mine.”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “How is that a game?”

Joel chuckled, resting his elbow on the back of your chair as he met your gaze head-on. “Because,” he said, his tone slow and deliberate, “it’s a test of trust.”

“Trust?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, completely unfazed by your skepticism. “Yep. You trust me not to order you somethin’ ridiculous, and I trust you not to screw me over with, I dunno…” He gestured toward the menu. “A Pink Flamingo Paradise or somethin’.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head. “You don’t strike me as a Pink Flamingo Paradise kind of guy.”

Joel smirked, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence. “I’d rock it, though.”

You snorted, your fingers tapping lightly against the edge of the menu as you debated. “Alright, fine,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “But if you pick something gross, I’m holding it against you for the rest of the trip.”

“Fair,” he replied easily, his grin never wavering. “Same rules apply.”

You both turned back to your menus, scanning the options with newfound purpose.

Joel glanced at you, his tone teasing. “What’re you thinkin’? Something with an umbrella in it?”

“Maybe,” you shot back, smirking. “What about you? Something boring like beer?”

“Boring?” Joel placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense as he leaned back in his chair. “You wound me.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, shaking your head as you glanced back at the menu. After a moment, you settled on a drink, pointing it out to the waiter with a confident nod. Joel followed suit, his choice quick and deliberate, though the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t about to let the game end there.

“All right,” Tommy said, leaning forward and slapping the table lightly. “We gotta get serious about this food situation. There’s too many damn things on this menu. What’s everyone thinkin’?”

Maria laughed, nudging his arm. “You’re acting like we’re solving world hunger, babe. Just pick something.”

Joel glanced at his brother with a faint smirk before turning his attention back to you. But this time, his playful demeanor softened, his gaze shifting to something quieter, more thoughtful.

“You got any dietary stuff I should know about?” Joel asked, his voice lower now, almost tender.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His tone was so different from the usual teasing lilt you’d come to expect—gentle, sincere, like he genuinely cared about the answer.

“Uh, no,” you said after a beat, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”

Joel nodded, his expression relaxed but still warm. “Good to know,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to the menu.

You swallowed hard, the faint warmth of his attention leaving a subtle flutter in your chest.

“Okay,” Tommy said, clearly oblivious to the moment as he squinted at the menu. “What the hell is a coconut lime mahi-mahi? Am I supposed to know what mahi-mahi is?”

“It’s fish, Tommy,” Maria said with a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes fondly. “You’ve had it before. Remember that time we went to the seafood place in Austin?”

“Oh,” Tommy said, nodding. “Right. That was good.”

Joel chuckled, his voice breaking the small bubble of tension that had lingered between you. “Y’know, Maria,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, “you’re gonna have your hands full with him.”

Maria grinned, clearly unfazed. “Already do.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

This was fun, you thought, glancing around the table as laughter spilled into the warm night air. The conversation flowed effortlessly, Maria and Tommy trading playful jabs while Joel chimed in with his dry, easy humor. For the first time in a while, you felt completely at ease, the tension of earlier moments melting into the atmosphere of good company and golden light.

The food arrived before you even realized how much time had passed, the waiter placing each dish with practiced elegance.

Tommy, true to form, had ordered something hearty—a perfectly seared steak topped with garlic butter, its aroma rich and mouthwatering. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing it like it was the centerpiece of a grand feast. “Now this,” he declared, picking up his knife and fork, “is what I’m talkin’ about.”

Maria, ever the balance to his bold choices, had gone for a delicate seafood linguine, the pasta glistening with olive oil and white wine, studded with shrimp and fresh herbs. “You’d better share,” Tommy teased, eyeing her plate, but Maria only swatted his hand away with a laugh.

You had chosen a grilled snapper, its crispy skin drizzled with a tangy mango salsa and paired with a vibrant side of coconut rice. The bright colors and tropical flavors made your plate look like something straight out of a magazine.

Joel’s choice was classic and unfussy—a plate of barbecued ribs slathered in smoky sauce, with a side of roasted potatoes and charred corn on the cob.

He caught your gaze as he picked up a rib, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What?” he asked innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “You were gonna judge me no matter what I got.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I wasn’t judging. Just… admiring your commitment to the messiest thing on the menu.”

“Gotta live a little,” Joel replied, his tone light but his gaze lingering just long enough to make your heart skip.

The laughter continued as everyone dug in, the clinking of silverware and the hum of the nearby live music weaving seamlessly into the scene. Soon after, the waiter returned, a tray balanced expertly in his hands.

“For the lady,” he said with a polite smile, setting a vibrant, colorful cocktail in front of you. It was topped with a slice of fresh pineapple and a tiny pink umbrella, the drink itself a swirl of coral and gold hues.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you stared at it. “Oh my god,” you said, biting back a laugh. “What is this?”

Joel leaned in, his grin widening as he inspected the drink. “That,” he said, his voice full of mock-seriousness, “is a Sunset Paradise.”

You shot him a look, your lips twitching as you tried to hold back your laughter. “Are you kidding me? You picked this?”

“Hey, I thought it suited you,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes dancing with mischief. “Sweet, colorful… a little over the top.”

You shook your head, picking up the glass and taking a small sip. The flavors burst on your tongue—pineapple, passionfruit, a hint of coconut rum. Damn it. It was actually good.

“Alright,” you admitted reluctantly. “Not bad, Miller. Not bad.”

Joel’s grin only widened.

“And for the gentleman,” the waiter continued, placing Joel’s drink in front of him with a subtle flourish.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you as you stared at the delicate martini glass, filled with a pale pink liquid and garnished with a single orchid flower floating on top. “Oh, this is perfect,” you said, barely able to contain yourself. “Joel Miller, enjoying a Hibiscus Bliss.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you, his lips twitching as though he was fighting a laugh of his own. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much,” he muttered, picking up the glass with exaggerated care.

“Go on,” you teased, leaning forward on your elbows. “Take a sip. Let me see you savor that hibiscus.”

Joel held your gaze, his grin slowly breaking through as he raised the glass to his lips. He took a slow, deliberate sip, setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Not bad,” he said, his tone deadpan. “Real sophisticated.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. “I can’t believe you’re pulling this off.”

“Darlin’,” Joel said, his grin turning cocky as he leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “I could pull off anything.”

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

The four of you sat back in your chairs, the plates cleared and glasses now reduced to condensation-rimmed remnants of colorful cocktails and beer. The warm buzz of good food and drinks settled over the group, and you realized with a start just how comfortable you felt.

Somehow, throughout the course of dinner, you and Joel had drifted closer. His arm rested casually along the back of your chair, and though he wasn’t quite touching you, you could feel the faint pull of his presence—the warmth radiating from him like he was the sun itself.

“Alright,” Joel said, his voice soft and low as he turned to you, his grin creeping in at the edges. “Now you gotta rate the drink I picked for you. Outta ten.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think, though the teasing glint in your eye gave you away. “Hmmm…” you hummed, dragging it out just to watch his brow twitch in anticipation. “I’ll give you a… seven.”

Joel leaned back, letting out a low hum of approval. “Seven, huh? Above average. I’ll take it.”

You smirked, leaning slightly toward him. “And now you?”

He glanced at the remnants of his Hibiscus Bliss, the delicate pink drink looking comically out of place in his hand, then back at you with an exaggerated frown. “Five.”

Your jaw dropped, and you straightened in mock offense. “A five?”

Joel nodded, his lips curving into a crooked smile as he took another sip. “Yeah, and that’s me bein’ generous.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head, but you couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

In front of you, Maria and Tommy were leaning into each other, their voices softer now, heads close as they shared a quick peck. Maria’s laughter was light and sweet, blending with the faint strum of live music in the distance. The two of them were completely in their own world, whispering and exchanging smiles like the honeymoon phase had never ended.

Joel’s voice cut through the moment, low and warm as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing your ear. “Let’s make a bet.”

You turned to him, your brows arching in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

He angled himself toward you, his grin widening just enough to make your heart do an annoying little flip. “Whoever’s right about when Tommy proposes gets to make the other person do whatever they want.”

Your brows furrowed as you studied him, skeptical. “That’s not fair,” you said, shaking your head. “He’s your brother. He’s probably told you everything he’s planned.”

Joel raised a hand, his expression softening into something almost boyish. “Swear to God, he hasn’t said a thing. I got no clue when he’s gonna do it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, searching for any hint of deception, but Joel just held your gaze steadily, his grin turning a little smug, like he knew you were about to give in.

“So?” he prompted, his voice a touch lower now, coaxing. “You in?”

You hesitated, glancing back at Maria and Tommy. The way they were leaning into each other, so completely at ease, made you think it had to be soon. And honestly, the thought of beating Joel at his own game was too tempting to pass up.

“Alright,” you said finally, turning back to him. “I’m in.”

Joel’s grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair, his arm brushing yours ever so slightly as he settled into the space between you. “Good,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, roomie. I’ll go easy on you when I win.”

“You mean if you win,” you corrected, your voice sharp but playful.

Joel chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he raised his glass in a mock toast. “To fair play,” he said, his drawl warm and teasing.

You clinked your glass lightly against his, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. Whatever this was—this slow, teasing back-and-forth—it was addictive, pulling you in like a tide you didn’t want to fight.

⋆🌺˚.⋆ꪆৎ.🐚⋆❀˖°

When you arrived back at the suite, the quiet hum of the evening enveloped the four of you. The buzz of laughter and conversation from dinner had given way to the heavy weight of exhaustion. Maria and Tommy murmured their goodnights as they veered off to their side of the suite, their soft laughter fading behind the sound of their door closing.

You and Joel walked to your side in silence, the tension between you as palpable as the warmth of the tropical night. You could feel his presence behind you, his steps slow and deliberate, and you swore you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the cool tiles beneath your bare feet as you reached the bedroom door.

Inside, Joel moved toward the bed, dropping his phone onto his side with a casual thud before sprawling back against the pillows. His arm rested lazily above his head, the glow from his screen illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You grabbed your pajamas and headed toward the bathroom. The cool splash of water on your face was grounding as you scrubbed off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and slipped into something more comfortable. But even as you tried to settle your thoughts, you couldn’t shake the image of Joel, relaxed and at ease, sprawled out on the bed like he owned it.

When you emerged, Joel’s eyes flicked up from his phone immediately, locking on you like you’d just stepped into a spotlight. His gaze traveled over you briefly—too brief to feel invasive but long enough to send heat rushing up your neck.

“What?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended as you set your things on the dresser.

“Nothing,” he said easily, his lips curving into a faint smile as he stood, grabbing his own bundle of clothes. “Just didn’t realize bedtime was a fashion show.”

You shot him a glare, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Go brush your teeth, Joel.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, disappearing into the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Christ,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a long sip.

You settled into bed, plugging your phone into the charger and pulling the covers up to your chest. The clock on the nightstand blinked 11:03, and the suite was quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean outside.

Just as you were starting to relax, the bathroom door swung open, and Joel strolled back into the room like it was nothing—barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of low-slung pajama pants. His hair was damp, his skin still warm and golden from the day, and he was entirely, maddeningly unbothered as he crossed to his side of the bed.

Without a word, he threw himself onto the mattress, the springs creaking slightly under his weight as he flopped down with an exaggerated sigh.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, your voice sharp as you stared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, propping himself up on one elbow to meet your gaze. “I live here too, roomie.”

You gestured vaguely toward him, your eyebrows lifting. “Could you maybe warn someone before… doing that?”

Joel tilted his head, clearly biting back a grin. “Doin’ what?”

You waved your hand in his direction, exasperated. “Showing up half-naked like some—some—”

“Some what?” he interrupted, his voice low and teasing as his grin finally broke free. “Greek god? Movie star? Go on, I’m listenin’.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. “You’re insufferable.”

Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm as he turned his head to look at you, his grin teasing but his gaze soft. “And you,” he emphasized, his drawl stretching the words as though savoring them, “are too wound up.” He rested one arm behind his head, the picture of lazy confidence as he continued. “Good thing you’re on vacation, or you might just explode.”

You turned your head to glare at him, though the twitch of your lips betrayed you. “Gee, thanks, Joel.”

“Just statin’ facts,” he said easily, his smirk widening as he stretched out across the bed like he owned it. “Bet you’re one of those people who makes to-do lists for their time off.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I do not.”

Joel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Right. So you didn’t already plan out tomorrow?”

You hesitated, pressing your lips together, and Joel laughed, the sound rumbling and warm.

“Knew it,” he said, his voice laced with triumph. “C’mon, roomie, you’re supposed to be relaxin’. Let me guess—early morning hike? Sunrise yoga?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the corner of the blanket and pulling it higher up your chest. “For your information, I was thinking about hitting the beach. Maybe snorkeling. Normal vacation stuff.”

He tilted his head, his gaze flicking over you briefly before meeting your eyes again. “So, what time we headin’ out?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Tomorrow,” Joel said, his voice casual but his grin edging toward mischievous. “You’re plannin’ it, right? Guess that makes me your plus one.”

You stared at him, your mouth opening slightly before you caught yourself. “You want to come with me?”

Joel raised an eyebrow, his tone turning mock-serious. “You expect me to leave you unsupervised in Hawaii? What if you trip over a rock or somethin’?”

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “Fine. But only if you promise not to complain the whole time.”

“Me? Complain?” Joel said, his brows lifting in mock offense. “Never.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him, but before you could retort, his gaze shifted, softening as it settled on you.

“Serious question,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to make your heart falter for a beat.

Your eyes snapped to his, the teasing grin on your face fading as your breath hitched slightly. “What?” you asked, wary of his tone.

Joel tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he said, deadpan, “Do you snore?”

Your heart stopped, then restarted with a kick of disbelief. “Joel.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his brow furrowing like this was some grand existential question. “I can’t do snorin’. It’s a dealbreaker.”

You glared at him, though the faint blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I do not snore.”

“Good,” Joel said, nodding like he was checking something off a list. “Because sometimes… pretty girls do weird things in their sleep.”

“Stop,” you said, your voice sharp but your cheeks betraying you as they burned.

Joel grinned, his gaze lingering on your face a moment too long as your blush deepened. “Just sayin’,” he added with a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying himself.

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth pooling in your chest, but before you could respond, Joel’s expression shifted again—his grin fading into something gentler, more serious.

“Also,” he began, his voice quieter now, “if you want, I can, uh, sleep outside. On the couch.” He gestured vaguely toward the suite’s living area, his tone so casual it almost masked the sincerity in his words. “It’s no big deal. I know you weren’t expectin’ this whole… shared bed thing.”

The offer caught you off guard, the sweetness of it pulling you up short. Joel—so cheeky, so infuriatingly confident—was looking at you now with an openness that you hadn’t expected.

You breathed in slowly, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Joel raised a brow, his lips curving faintly. “You sure?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “As long as you stay on your side of the bed.”

His grin widened, that playful spark returning to his eyes. “Good,” he said, his tone lighter now. “Because, truth is, I really didn’t wanna sleep on the couch. It looked lumpy.”

You laughed softly, your chest loosening as the tension faded. “Wow, such a gentleman.”

Joel leaned back against the pillows, his grin turning smug but somehow still boyish. “Told you. I’m full of surprises.”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh escaping you, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your amusement. Settling back onto your side of the bed, you pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, the faint scent of clean linen and something distinctly Joel filling the air.

The room was quiet now, the low hum of the ocean outside mingling with the soft creaks of the suite as it settled around you. Despite the space between you, the warmth of Joel’s presence lingered, stretching into the silence like something unspoken but understood.

“Night, Joel,” you murmured, your voice soft and a little shy as you closed your eyes.

There was a pause—a small, almost imperceptible beat—and then his voice came, low and warm, carrying the faintest trace of a smile. “Night, roomie’.”

CHAPTER 2 IS OUT HERE

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[ficsbb]

Moments with John Wick II

》 Pairing: Loving!John Wick x Reader

》 Warnings: pet names, gross misconduct of lovey doviness

》 Word Count: 1.3k+

Part 1

Note: I've been overthinking about these snippets for too long, so here I go, I release them! 🤭 Enjoy! Apologies for any error in tense use, spelling, grammar etc. Credit to @toastray for the cute dividers!

It was hard at first, getting to know him better. You could feel the heaviness of his grief all around him. It was in everything he looked at and everything he touched, lingering in doorways after he'd walk through. He knew you could see it. It was all in your eyes and how you interacted with him during moments the sadness gathered in his throat.

“I'm okay,” he says, “I promise.” You put your hand on his cheek and nod.

"I know."

He doesn't know what it is with your touch, but it unravels that monstrous grief with ease. You watch him close his eyes briefly and bring your palm to his lips, letting out a sigh, followed by a kiss.

“You save me.” It's genuine, and every part of you knows it's true. There's been a lingering doubt with others, but never with him. When John tells you this, time and time again, it makes you feel lighter and warm.

“What do you think?” You're leafing through a pamphlet for a train vacation. It's not something you would have expected John would like. In fact, you were the one more inclined to do something like this.

“When are you thinking?” He lets out a sigh of relief, happy that you're interested at least. He's waiting for you to spot the destination on the trip he circled, the one he knows you've always wanted to go on. John pauses, waits a moment and then sees your eyes glow.

You look up at him, “Is that the one we're going on?” He nods. “Like, we're actually going, for real?” You watch as he laughs, head tipped back and adam's apple moving slightly. It warms you up just as a nice cup of hot chocolate always does.

“What about work?” John shakes his head, knowing you'd ask.

“I can work anywhere, but I'm taking a full break for the trip. I don't want to miss a moment with you.” He watches your eyes flutter, your breathing change. For a second he's worried he said the wrong thing. He worries about that all the time, but when you pull him into a tight hug, arms around his middle, he feels that pull of the string. The way it snaps straight from the center of his chest to yours and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Thank you, John. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, beautiful.”

A phone call comes through in the middle of the night. It startles you awake and you feel John put his arm over you. He knows when your nervousness or anxiety is heightened more than usual. It didn't take long for him to notice your mannerisms when you're under stress while you've been together. These things were part of his work and work has had some ways of bleeding through. Whether it was through his clothes or in the ways he could keep you safe, it bleeds through.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, voice laced in sleep. You rub at his arm as he pats your stomach a couple times before he sits up. Your eyes are adjusted to the dark as you sit up with him, watching his hand sift through his hair. He hates these moments. Similar conversations come to mind, blurred and racing as the quiet around you both becomes deafening.

“A job. I have to go.” 

“Oh.”

“I know.” 

He hates these moments. He hates the way your sleep is interrupted and the sadness so easily conveyed in the ‘oh’s’, ‘right now?’, ‘when will you be home?’ gnaws at him. 

“I'll have to be on a plane soon.” You nod, quiet, rubbing at your arm. Self soothing. John turns over to look at you and it doesn't get any easier for him when he sees that shimmer of tears gloss your eyes.

“Come here, sweetheart.” You take a deep breath to brace yourself and get out of bed to go to his side. He leans back slightly as you stand between his legs, both hands on either side of his face. His eyes close. You know he loves when you do this. It calms the both of you down in a way and any chance to touch him is a chance you'll grab at greedily.

“How long will this one take?” 

“Not long. A couple of days.” You kiss his forehead as he pulls you in closer. When he rests his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat. It's a little fast, but it's comforting. It's a song to him, the melody striking and forceful always swallowing him up. As he pulls back, he looks up at you and wipes at the rest of the tears you seem to have messily swept away.

“How about you come with me?” 

“Is that allowed?” You're genuinely surprised since he's never asked. John tells you very little about these things, hoping that sparing you details will keep you safe.

“I'm allowing it.” A rush of heat goes to your cheeks and he smiles when that twinkle is back in your eyes.

“May I kiss you?” He pulls you both into bed so you're lying down again.

“I'll allow that too.” You laugh, and he kisses you.

You slam the back door behind you and walk purposefully to the shed. It's a crisp and foggy evening. You've left John in the house somewhere, calling after you.

“Fucker,” you say under your breath, exasperated. He knows you hate big gatherings being popped up on you. While it's exhilarating being at his side at events, it also comes with your own anxieties about being seen. Apart from that, you've already made plans with close friends that you hadn't seen in a long time and it makes you angry that he's forgotten again.

“I'm sorry.” His voice startles you a bit, your thoughts swirling in an irritated bubble around you. John's voice always breaks through. You grab a bag of dirt to prep for the plants in your greenhouse.

“I'm sorry,” he says again, his voice closer than before. You sigh and pause scooping the dirt from the bag into your own mixture.

“I hate this.”

“I know, I'm sorry. I really am.” You continue what you're doing, preferring to stay quiet instead of saying something you'll regret later on. It's not long before John is right next to you, bringing his sleeves up and mixing the dirt by hand. It softens you up. The sight of him helping you always has really, and it makes you smile despite yourself.

“I can do it, John.” 

“I know you can. Let me.” You stop what you're doing and watch his hands. Watch how they sift through the dirt like he was mixing butter into a short puff pastry. So delicate and without any thought, just as natural to him as it is to breathe. John can see you from the corner of his eye. You've seemingly forgotten the mixing altogether and are leaning closer, almost shoulder to shoulder. 

“I like being here with you,” he starts, taking a used rag nearby to wipe his hands, “I can lose my focus and it doesn't cost me a life. It feels freeing.”

“I didn't know that.” You move things out of the way, cleaning as you go.

“Well, I know this is your space to get away so I try not to barge in.” He wipes some dirt from the tip of your nose.

“I always love when you're here with me.”

“Even if I upset you by being a dumb, forgetful man?” He sort of pouts and a giggle bubbles out of you. John smiles, hoping to hear that sound every moment of his life. He finds a wayward hair falling out of place and tucks it behind your ear.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls you into him, enveloping you completely. There's nothing else for you to do but fall in deep, deeper still. The smell of him calming all of your senses and somehow, some way you feel that peaceful quiet making you sleepy.

“How about this? We go inside, warm up with some hot chocolate and put on a spooky movie.” 

“Yes, please.” You say, taking his hand and following him back to the house.

You’ve never been one to push him on expressing his feelings. You learned quickly that John would come to on his own, as did you whether you realized it or not. It took an accident, a simple fall really. You were out on a walk and something struck you in how these tiny flowers, or weeds, really, stuck out from the side of the road you were walking on. The Sun shining pointedly at them and they seemed to have pointedly been reaching out to you. John had a meeting to take somewhere in town even though it was supposed to be your vacation together, so as soon as you woke in the morning to find him gone and a beautiful note at your bedside, a walk was due.

You only meant to pick a few to press when you got back to the rental, but before you knew it, your ankle rolled and you found yourself tumbling in the ditch. It wasn’t deep or far off at all, but when John found out, you might as well have fallen straight to the Earth’s core.

“You should’ve waited until I got back,” he started, pacing in the hospital room. The nurse was tending to your ankle, gently. “What if you got really hurt? How would I have known?”

“I was clumsy. I can be clumsy, John. I’m okay.”

“And if you weren’t?”

“Then I wouldn’t be.”

For some reason, that stops him. You still wonder what it was you said that calmed him down, but you remember him kneeling down in front of you and softly, deftly, taking your sprained ankle into his hands. You were going to stop him from unraveling the nurses' handiwork, but stop yourself and let him, curious. He looks you over, careful not to cause any pain or discomfort, and wraps it back better than it just had been.

“You’re okay.” You nodded, understanding what he needed at that moment. He sighed heavily, looking up at you and saying, "Getting that call scared me. I don’t want you getting hurt ever again.” And there it was.

“I can’t promise that.” You both laughed quietly. He placed a kiss on your ankle and stood up.

“I know, but do it anyway. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

You'll never forget that look in his eyes. Brown eyes, matching yours, shimmering with so much love. You swore in that moment that if you had reached out to put your hand on his chest, your hearts beating would be indistinguishable from the other. Not a single wave, lurch, or pulse different in any way. How curious all of this was. How lovely. How lucky.

"I promise, John." You remember saying again and he kissed you. A soft and sweet kiss that always lingers, still.