#tell me they haven't had this conversation while she's out in the field

[wiedzmacienia]

@everythingheard (elijah)

Enzo & Caroline | 6.07

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Kimetsu Daddies: Vol.1 ╝

Premise: Everyone has insecurities and parenting can certainly bring even more to the plate. Taking a trip to memory lane to the first days of his fatherhood journey makes Sanemi realize maybe he isn't half bad himself.

Word Count: 3639

Note: This is a prequel of sorts for my previous story "Liquid Sunshine" (which you can read here if you haven't yet), starting right after bonus chapter 2, but this is also the beginning of a new series as you might have guessed by the title change, lol. My love @huh01011 requested some smut to be added to this series, I must warn you all, I am not a smut writer, and there's not as much in it as I wanted it to be, but I tried to incorporate some in a way~ Also tagging pookie @cock-ainee who wanted to be tagged here ❤️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Summer was a dreaded season in the Shinazugawa household.

The excessive moisture in the air made almost impossible to work the fields for the younger lads adding even more load to the already overworked Sanemi.

Sanehiko, who could stand such temperatures, was the only one able to aid his father with the animals and the fields as his beloved mother was feeling under the weather.

The last few weeks had been odd. After having such an eye opening conversation with the children, your mood had been sour, making Sanemi feel he had done something wrong.

Dealing with so many little ones, he assumed you were just a bit overwhelmed, baby Sae was still a very demanding baby and Senri, who just started walking on his own, has been climbing trees and running around like a madman, plenty of reasons to be a bit grouchy.

But that was far from reality.

“Sanehiko, where’s your mother?” Sanemi asked his eldest as he hauled the entire harvest of tomatoes on his back.

“Last time I saw her, she was cleaning her own puke near the bath.”

The sound of exploding tomatoes hitting the scorching hot ground made Sanehiko shudder at the thought of the lost produce, “WHAT? She was doing WHAT?”

“Ugh…she was…” the boy stuttered, his mother wont be pleased knowing some of the tomatoes were squashed down by his father’s annoyance and it was most definitely his fault…”She was…ummm…on the floor? Yes, she was on the floor, with a rag cleaning after her…” he smiled proudly, able to recount the facts with as much details as possible without sounding so aggravating.

“Why was she on the floor Sanehiko? Is your mother sick?” panic was written all over Sanemi’s face, if there’s something that terrifies him is the thought of ever loosing you.

Thinking back, Sanehiko realizes he isn’t even sure why his mother was in such predicament, making him feel worse for not stopping to help her, “Not sure father, Genma is the one in charge of mother…I had to come get the milk out on time…”

“Tch, bring the tomatoes inside.” without a second thought, Sanemi marched back inside the house, in search of his darling wife who seemed to be feeling even worse than he thought.

When he found you, Genma was rubbing your belly in soothing circles while you clutched a pillow close to your face, “Hey, my love…what’s wrong…?” his tone of voice was laced with honey, he hated seeing you in distress and he knew you’ve been struggling lately.

“Nemi…” your voice was so weak almost a whisper, he could barely hear you.

“Yes, baby tell me…” holding your hand, he crouched down beside you, giving your knuckles an adoring kiss.

“I-…another one is coming…”

“What do you mean, babe?” realization hit him hard, your pale face, the morning discomfort, lack of appetite, uncomfortable nights…”Oh….OH?…you’re pregnant again, my love??” his eyes went from imminent despair to happiness overload in a mater of seconds, making you chuckle.

“I think so yeah, pretty sure actually, Nemi…isn’t it too fast…? I…I honestly thought Sae would be the last one…at least for a while...”

“Do you not feel comfortable having more children, baby?” sadness could be heard in his voice, but he would respect your wishes, no matter what they were.

“It’s not that, my love…it’s just…my body is still tired, Sae is still breastfeeding, I guess this time is really taking a toll on me, that’s all. Of course I want to bring your babies to this world.” your gentle reassurance brought him back to life, you were all that mattered to him, his entire life, a gift he had been given, one he would protect at all cost.

Forgetting his tiny son was around is one of Sanemi’s traits now a days, Genma was listening to the entire thing, mauling things over in his little head silently while you held each other, his sister however, had been hiding under the window seal, also listening.

“Mama, what’s pr’gnant?” Remi climbed her way into the room through the window, quickly sitting beside Genma.

“It’s when mommy has a baby inside of her, angel.”

Genma gasped loudly, “You did this to her, didn’t you father?! That night! I knew it, you hurt her!”

“No, no baby. Your father didn’t hurt me…he gave us another member of our family, it’s just…you know summer is tough on me, my love, having a baby inside is harder at the beginning, I’ll be ok in a few weeks, I promise.”

Sanemi was speechless, he couldn’t believe his son kept insisting on him hurting you, like if that was actually a thing, he was incapable of hurting a single hair of your head and he would have thought his own son would know this.

“But mother! You shouldn’t have to be this sick! We are already so many in this house! I don’t want you to be sick! Please stop putting babies inside of her, father!” the toddler started wailing, his sister not completely understanding why he was in such distress, hugged him gently. “Mama is ok, nii-nii, don’t cry…”

Sanehiko came into the room when he heard his brother crying, Sae sleeping on his back while Senri was holding his hand, “Genma? What’s wrong?”

“Mama ate a baby and he’s sad…”

“She what?” this time Senri was the one who started crying, his sister’s words scaring the hell out of him.

“I’m pregnant again, love. That’s all.”

“Oh yeah, I thought so. We heard you after all, that’s just how it works, right father?” Sanemi just nodded absentmindedly, while he was happy with the news, he started questioning his fathering skills lately. Genma clearly doesn’t trust him and even thinks he’s capable of hurting his mother, what could possibly led him to think that way? Was he a good father even? He knows he’s strict, having to provide for such a large family isn’t easy, discipline is needed, but he loves his children and he thought they knew it…

Getting up from his spot beside you without saying a word, he walked outside of the house and up a small hill he goes to when he needs to think. Contemplating his own mistakes was more daunting that he ever imagined, memories of Genma’s constant terrified face hunting him.

Sanehiko left the babies in your care and ran after his dad, “Father, are you ok? Mother looked worried…Is the baby sick?”

“No…no, the baby is fine…is your brother who worries me..”

“You mean Genma? Or Senri?” he plopped beside his dad, both had the exact same pose, legs crossed, a half scowl on their faces, it was like seeing himself in a mirror, just that without scars.

“Genma…”

Nodding, Sanehiko let out a sigh, he understands his dad’s predicament, Genma isn’t a difficult kid, he is actually quite a sunshine, but he is obsessed with his own mother and that makes Sanemi’s odds against him most of the times.

“He stopped crying already, father. It’s not that he doesn’t want another sibling, he just doesn’t like it when mother is sick. This time she really is in bad shape though, is it the heat again?”

“Yeah…heat has always been hard on her, specially when she’s in her first trimester…” that made Sanehiko think, none of his siblings had been in that part of pregnancy during summer, not that he can remember at least. “Really? Was it Genma?”

“No, it was you actually…” the memory of you throwing your guts out of the window during summer nights made a faint smile grace his lips.

“Was I a difficult baby, father?” Sanemi’s smile just kept growing with the memories, “Not at all, you were the quietest of all, a true gift…” 

Sanehiko had never seen his father this soft before, it felt oddly comforting knowing he was talking about him just now. “Did I give mother a hard time then? I feel like we’ve never talked about this before…” 

It was crazy, but true. Having to run a farm kept you both very busy and the more babies came, the harder its been to just sit down with your eldest and have a nice chat.

“We were young and inexperienced when you came to this world. For the longest time we thought you were a virus because she couldn’t eat a single thing without puking…” a soft chuckle left his lips as he remembers those sleepless nights of him rubbing your back until you could fall asleep on his lap, holding you while the moon shone above you, illuminating your beautiful face. Those days were quiet, nothing like the ones you have today, and honestly, he kind of misses them. Having you all to himself all day, all night…the intimacy and love remains, but there’s limitations to what he can or cannot do now.

Sanehiko chuckled along shaking his head, a clear image of his mother being painted by his father. “How did you guys know it was me and not a virus then?”

“Hmmmm…after a lot of arguing, I threw your mother over my shoulder and took her to see the doctor downtown, she wasn’t eating and it was making me anxious…”

“You're just like Genma, father.”

“Huh? What do you mean just like Genma? He’s the least similar to me from all your siblings.”

He shook his head, smiling “He’s just like you, father. Mother yawns and one of you is right by her side with a blanket, she coughs and there’s fresh tea in front of her in seconds. She makes a slight noise and the entire house is checking on her, those are the Shinazugawa genes, father, they come from you.” 

Maybe he was right, maybe he and Genma had more in common that he thought, getting the child to see that would be harder though.

“So, you took mother to the doctor. What’d he say?” this is the first time Sanehiko has story time with his father since he’s a little kid, it made him feel fuzzy inside and wanted to hear more of his upbringing.

Sanemi seeing his interest, turned to face him with a grin on his face, “Then he tells us she isn’t sick but round and full with our first child. I still remember that day like it was yesterday, man was I happy…” 

“You were happy because I was inside of mother?” he wasn’t expecting to hear that, while he knows his father loves getting his mother pregnant, he isn’t one to celebrate or smile like that.

“Of course! There was nothing I wanted more back then than to see your mother stuffed full with my child. I can’t expect you to understand this yet, but there is nothing better than knowing a piece of you lives inside the woman you love…”

“A piece of you…am I a piece of you, father?”

“Damn straight you are, son. Half of me, half of your beautiful mother, the result of our never ending love…”

“I’m the result of your love…” Sanehiko has never felt this loved before, his parents are usually very caring and understanding, but hearing his stoic father saying such a thing made his eyes fill up with tears.

“You really love mother, don’t you father?”

“More than I could ever thought possible, son…” Sanemi’s smile was pure, soft, love could be felt from the air around him, it was palpable.

“And…us?” while he was scared of asking, he knew his father loved him, yet somehow he needed validation.

“I love every single one of you with all my heart. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.”

Sanehiko scooted closer, wrapping his arms around his father in a way to comfort his aching heart, “We know you do.” resting his cheek on his son’s fluffy hair, they stay there in silence, until you called out for your eldest for help.

Sanemi decided to stay a little longer contemplating life once more.

Thinking about the days when you two were younger and so very much in love brought a permanent smile to his face. 

Sanehiko’s arrival was indeed the peak of his lifetime.

When you agreed to let him move with you to the farm for good, it took just a couple of hours before he had you pinned to the bathroom wall, this time without clothes in between, marks of his passion for you littering your beautiful silky skin, those gorgeous lips parted for him and screaming his name as he rammed into you nonstop, quite the memory really.

And it continued for a while, every day and night the growing needs to posses you, to fill you up with his essence, was overbearing. He needed the world to see you were claimed, to see you were his and his alone, that every single bit of skin on that beautiful body of yours was his, that your heart and all your love within it was exclusively just for him.

Memories of your face contouring with pleasure as he sucked on your perfect perky breasts like it was his last meal, the screams leaving your pretty lips and carrying his name through the wind every time he pushed himself within you as deep as he could and then some. The heat inside of you squeezing him dry, then making him hard once again at how good it felt to have you cum around his aching manhood, at how tightly you clenched around him with your core, holding onto him like if your life depended on it. He truly misses those days when his name echoed in every single wall of the house, your melodic moans and the sound of your heavy breathing all that could be heard for miles.

But when he held his first child in his arms, his world got upside down. He just didn’t know what to do with himself.

While he had witnessed all the birthing of his siblings, he had never felt such a bond before. The way Sanehiko’s eyes were barely open, how he held to his large manly thumb for dear life and hugged it to sleep, how he would snuggle on his chest and just lay there for hours just changed him.

You were his angel, his wife, the woman he loved from almost the moment he met you. A true gift from the heavens, but this baby…this little human in his arms….he was the outcome of your passion, of your fierce love for one another, he held all your dreams, your future, this tiny little thing who fit in his palm was the reason you both lived to that day, he was your anchor, the very core of your family, your reason to get up every day and make a living out of that devastated farm.

Sanehiko meant hope, joy, love. His first child, the one he so wished to have, his pride.

While he thought you’d be pregnant right after Sanehiko was born, because being real, he had his way between your legs daily; Genma didn’t come for a while.

You had time to bond with your first child, get to know him, play with him, teach him how to tend the animals. Being a parent isn’t easy, a first born gets to experience all the ‘firsts’ after all, but overall the learning experience helped you both create patterns for the future babes. While none of the kids were alike, at least it gave you a foundation already stablished to raise your children, and it worked quite well. Until lately, that is.

The heat was finally dimming down a little signalizing the day was coming to an end, the need to check on you being more significant than the dread he felt of facing Genma.

Heading inside the house he noticed Sanehiko was reading a story to the younger kids, Remi being already asleep on his leg. The sight made him smile, memories of little newborn Sanehiko still fresh in his mind.

In your room, Genma was still looking a bit sulky but you looked way better, lunch already gone from your system.

“Hey beautiful…felling better?” he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re normally not as physically affectionate in front of the children, but you could feel your man needing comfort.

“I am, baby. Don’t worry, our child is going to be as healthy as the rest, of that I’m sure. You know the heat hunts me when I’m pregnant…” your soft giggles made him smile, “Yeah I was telling Sanehiko that story earlier, how you’d puke every night and could only sleep on my lap…” his smile turned to a smirk, his lips finding your neck to give it a little nip.

“Mmmmm yeah…good old times…we need to time babies better so I never have to spend another first trimester in summer again though…” groaning you turned your head to bury your face in his soft hair, his natural scent was just so comforting, it made you feel better almost immediately.

“Yeah, I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to…” his soft tone and apology startled Genma, he’s rarely ever heard his father saying his sorry for anything, let alone be this gentle.

“I’m just as guilty of this as you are, my love. You don’t need to apologize. On the contrary, thank you for giving me another treasure…” the feeling of your soft nose buried in his hair was making him feel so emotional. Earlier he had felt like he sucked at being a parent but after bonding over it with Sanehiko and reminiscing of the time he was born, he just feels so complete…

“Thank you, babe…without you…I wouldn’t….I…I don’t know what I’d do or where I’d be without you…” his words were chocked up, Genma was still in shock, he could feel the emotional state of his broken father filling up the air.

“Father…are you ok…?” Genma held onto Sanemi’s leg, hugging it with his tiny body. It’s been a while since he feels his toddler’s warmth.

“I am son, thank you for asking.” 

“Father…I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I don’t understand this baby thing very well…but I know you wouldn’t hurt mother now…” Sanemi’s heart grew three sizes, he didn’t know he needed to hear this so badly, but turns out he did.

“You know? Sanehiko told me earlier that you’re very similar to me…that your obsession with your mother is all my fault for being your father…” that made you laugh, while it is true, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“You two are very similar that’s true, loving, gentle, big hearted sweethearts and gorgeous babes~” the last part made Genma fall into a crazy fit of giggles.

“Mother, how was I as a baby? I know Nii-chan was very attached to father, was I always attached to you?”

“Well yes, you’ve always been very much a mama’s boy…but when you were born…God…I had to line up to get some time with you, your father would hog you away and keep you all to himself all the time, even Sanehiko was jealous back then!” 

“I did not hog our child, ok? I was just…happy…” Genma’s little ears turned bright pink, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You were happy because I looked like my uncle?” while that was part of it originally, it wasn’t just that, he truly had a wonderful bond with his sons, he was happy to welcome a new one after so long, Sanehiko was already a toddler back then and having such a cute little baby coddled up on his chest would make his heart sing every time.

“No, when you were born you were bald, we didn’t even know you would have dark hair.” that was a lie, but it made the child glow with happiness, being cared for just for his similarities to his uncle is something he’s feared his whole life.

“Bald? I didn’t know I was an ugly baby!”laughing wildly, Sanemi lets go of your waist to pick his son up in his arms, “Nah you were the cutest baby I’ve ever laid eyes on…”

“Cuter than Sae? She’s real cute, father…” his little hands wrapped around Sanemi’s head, his cute tiny nose nuzzling the side of his face as he giggles happily, this sort of affection normally reserved just for you, made Sanemi think he might have been finally forgiven by his son.

“Oh she is, alright, she looks just like your mama. But you…your eyes were so full of love even when you were a day old…I’ll never forget the first time you smiled at us…We knew we were blessed that day…” Genma has never been this clingy with Sanemi, but it felt just right, it reminded him of a young Genya clinging onto him for support and for comfort, days that had been long forgotten, days he holds dear in his heart, those days filled with nothing but happiness, those came back thanks to you, thanks to the beautiful family you two were able to build based on love and trust.

Being a father isn’t easy, and six is indeed a very large number, but he would do it all over again as many times as needed just to see the smile in your face every time they’re around.

“But father, are you going to explain me now how does the baby pee work? Can you make more when she has a baby inside already? Do they line up? Or do you like turn it off? I’ve been smelling your tea, I didn’t notice anything different, I still want to know what you need to drink to make babies…”

“Oh god…not again…”

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Masterlist Previous Chapter

[the-nosy-neighbor]

I was going through text and sound today, looking for mentions of a thing (I'll talk about it later) being repeated, and I pulled up all the audio from the secret videos:

Because at this point, I've rabbitholed far, far away from where I meant to be. I had also gotten a bit distracted about "the numbers are so hard to read." I don't think I've ever read any theorizing including numbers.

And as I was watching these videos, I saw Wally reach out and tap his cup 3 times. So, I started over, noting the numbers that are said or visuals that you can count:

Poppy/Howdy: Can see 4 balls of yarn

Poppy/Sally: Wally taps 3 times, 2 geese because they are that puzzle kind

Sally/Howdy: There are 2 fruit loops right in our field of vision

Frank/Barnaby: 10 figures (an extra on each side you can see as the video slightly pans.) 3 tomatoes can be seen, with 1 squashed

Barnaby/Eddie: this one doesn't seem to have one? There are 2 or 3 letters on the screen, it's hard to tell

Julie/Frank: 6 figures, 2 tomatoes

Julie/Eddie: 4 crayons

Frank/Eddie: A ton of paper chains. I noticed during this scene that Eddie calls Frank "Frank" and then changes to Mr. Frankly, so it got me to wondering if the lack of number is because a plot point is in the segment. (I know, way out there)

Frank/Poppy: 6 apples on the board, 1 doily

Sally/Jules: 3 images on the script board, Julie makes 3 decrees, she demands 2, 20, 30 in hopscotch,

Julie/Barnaby: 3, 2, 1 (Remember to come back to look at Barnaby talking about being small) Also, here, Julie says "I have a joke that will knock your head off." That's not a typical way to say that. Usually, it's "knock your socks off" so I think we can assume that this is more headless Barnaby motif.

Barnaby/Howdy: 1 ice cream, 1 berry, 2 straws, 1 spoon

Howdy/Eddie: 5 apples, they say 1 and 2

Barnaby/Home: 3, 1, 2 , 4, 4, 2

I may be way off base here, but we've been told about the numbers for a while now. I also want to post another thing about numbers later.

I really don't think it would be accidental, but I don't really know how often numbers are used in a video/script/conversation naturally. Also, I would just be assuming that they wanted us to count things in front of us. That is kind of a crazy idea.

But on the other other hand, the videos are in a particular order (they are named with numbers). The going theory on that is that they progress through the day during the videos, first video being the morning and last video being the evening. But what if the videos are also numbered so that we can put numbers in the right order?

We also had this mechanic in the hidden sound clip naming, which allowed us to hear Wally's message in order. Numbers being ordered that way isn't too far fetched when considering the precedent.

In short, I don't know, but here are some numbers. I think there is something missing from this theory, in that we haven't been provided with a key to tell us what numbers count. Then we'd have to find some kind of way to translate those numbers into something usable.

Comments and ideas welcome. I will even accept and encourage telling me I've been staring at Welcome Home for too long..

I'm going to go find a random video and see how many times you get numbers or a repeated word.

[fbfh]

older!logan x reader hcs

wc: 1.6k

genre: age gap, sort of sugar daddy logan

warnings: big (but legal) age gap, logan is early 40s reader is like early 20s, brief odette mention, logan is a killer lawyer, rory kinda traumatized Logan lol, I haven't finished gilmore girls or ayitl yet so don't come for me lol, logan is obsessedddddddd with reader, mildly smutty, mentions of marriage and proposals, your relationship progresses really quickly

summary: you were reading in a coffee shop when a charming gorgeous much older guy decided to strike up a conversation. little do you know that within a very short time that same charming stranger will know your dress size, your shoe size, and your ring size.

song rec: off to the races - lana del rey

a/n: the choke hold older logan has on me..... euthanize me at this point lmao

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (like way over 18 in logan’s case lol)

That being said jesus christ let’s dive right into the brain rot

First things first, a little more about Logan

He’s in his early 40’s and aging like a fine goddamn wine

MEGA MEGA dilf vibes

After the whole millions of dollars sunken into a bad investment in his family’s massive media conglomerate mishap, he still faced a lot of pressure to join the family business

But with Rory rejecting his proposal, he felt so fucking down and beaten up by life

He just had two massive blows to his ego back to back

And he needed a win

Then the strangest thing happened 

He just got back from another late night of partying with his friends and switched on the tv so he wouldn’t have to fall asleep with his thoughts, and some random movie was playing

The girl in the movie is at dinner with her boyfriend and thinks he’s going to propose, but he breaks up with her instead

It hits a little too close to home and Logan’s about to switch it off

Then she decides to go to law school to prove herself

He finds himself getting more and more invested in this movie, relating more to Elle with every scene, and by the morning he confronts the idea he’s been shoving away for too long so he doesn’t rock the boat

He talks to his dad and they decide Logan will go to law school, but remain a prominent board member and shareholder of the family company

Mitchum is surprised by how responsible and well thought out Logan’s plan is

He’s forging a path to a very lucrative field - one Mitchum can tell he’s going to be very successful in - while still staying involved enough in the family business 

So Logan goes off to law school, and 20 years later he’s a total shark 

He’s a prestigious, expensive lawyer with a reputation for never losing and a long streak of killing it with really high profile cases

Now the Huntzberger name carries all the weight and power of his father’s media reach, and Logan’s success in the courtroom 

He’s excelling 

And he’s excelling enough to keep his family out of his personal life for a while 

He’s living the bachelor life until he hits 40

That’s when his parents decide it’s really unacceptable that he’s still not married 

So they tell him if he doesn’t get married soon they’ll arrange something

Some french heiress or something 

And Logan finds himself right back where he didn’t want to be

And then, like a gift from god, he sees you

Like I said in my initial drabble, Logan first saw you in a cafe reading some dusty novel no one actually reads like war and peace or crime and punishment or something

He's seen people your age do that before, reading complicated stuffy literature to seem smart and make some pretentious English class commentary that barely makes sense 

So he calls you on it

"War and Peace, huh?"

He’s expecting you to say something fake and pretentious

Some bullshit fake deep pseudo intellectual shit

But you look up at him, only pausing for a moment before you speak

You’re surprised to see such a gorgeous guy in a little cafe like this

Especially one that seems interested in talking to you

And god, the way you talk about it

The way your eyes light up

It takes him by surprise

He's not just interested

He's invested 

You start talking and realize that you've been talking for way longer than you expected to

And he wants more

He wants to know more about you, wants to see you sweet smile and hear your cute little laugh when he says something charming or compliments you

So he takes you out to dinner, his treat 

He guides you out the door and into his Porsche with his hand on your back 

It's a subtle gesture but it makes your stomach flip 

Then he buckles your seat belt for you

If you weren't sold before you sure are by now 

So he takes you to this nice fancy restaurant, wines and dines you, and he is laying on the charm thick

"Oh, come on. A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."

"Really, you have excellent taste.”

You don’t miss the way he’s been eyeing you all night

And he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together when he touches your face or plays with your fingers

One thing leads to another and after he pays the bill and leaves a generous tip, you find him ushering you back into his porsche

And yet again he closes your door for you and gets you all buckled in

This time when he drives his hand rests on your knee

He thinks he can handle this

He’s the biggest whore on the east coast /affectionate 

Then you grab his hand and move it up your thigh

There’s no going back now

He’s in just as deep as you are

Before you know it you’re tearing off each other’s clothes

His lips are all over you and motherfucker does he know what he’s doing

He worried for a moment he might have lost his edge

But as he lays you down into his big soft bed, your skin touching his silky sheets for the first time

But definitely not the last

As he finally touches you and feels how wet you are for him

He knows he didn’t peak in college

“Shh, listen,” he says between kisses that make you feel dizzy, “you’re gonna tell me if it’s too much for you, can you do that?”

You nod while he holds your face in his big hands

“You gotta say it,” he chuckles at how sweet you are, how well you respond to him, “use your words, baby…” 

You manage to choke out a desperate yes between kisses that makes his stomach twist

And that is the very beginning to your intense affair with Logan Huntzberger 

He’s desperate to see you again

He sends flowers and a dress and a gorgeous necklace to your apartment

And not the normal amount of flowers

The Logan amount of flowers

So a lot

And you can’t believe your luck finding a hot rich older guy that’s so into you 

You really like this attention

Your daddy issues are SCREAMING

And Logan likes having someone as gorgeous and intelligent and into him as you are

And he wants to do this right

But he’s rapidly approaching the deadline his family set

He doesn’t want to scare you off

GOD that’s the last thing he wants

But he is terrified of proposing and having it end up like it did the last time

Eventually he works up the nerve to talk to you about it 

He’s explaining everything to you while you pay your bills 

But it says they’re already paid

And your credit cards are paid off

And your debt has just disappeared

Even your student loans are gone

And there’s a fat deposit in your checking account 

He paid off all your debt and didn’t tell you

By the time he’s done explaining that you basically either need to get married asap or you can’t see each other anymore he still hasn’t brought it up

And you realize he’s not going to

He didn’t pay your bills to guilt you into anything

He’s not holding it over your head

He’s taking care of you

And all you’ve ever wanted is someone who will take care of you

Logan is surprised when you agree

But he’s even more surprised at how fast you agree

You sit in his lap and end up rambling about how much you love him, how you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone you like as much as him or anyone that treats you as well as he does

To no one’s surprise the conversation ends with him taking you on every surface of your apartment

Hours later you’re cuddling naked on your couch, resting your head on his muscular chest and listening to his heartbeat

“So like… are we engaged now?” you ask looking up at him

He laughs sweetly

“No, not yet. I have to actually propose first.”

You think back to your conversation earlier when you first said you’d want to marry him

“So that didn’t count before?”

His heart breaks at how little you ask for

“No, that didn’t count.” He kisses your head, “I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, give you a proper proposal, with a nice ring.”

You get butterflies thinking about it

You can’t believe how much he does for you

How much he wants to do for you 

You’re quiet for a moment, and he can feel you smiling into his chest

“...Okay.” 

Your voice is so small and bashful, and he can hear you suppressing a flustered giggle

Fuck he can’t get enough of you 

He laughs and pulls you closer, grabbing your chin and makes you look up at him so he can kiss you 

You fall asleep in his arms

And you think that you won’t mind being married so young if it’s Logan you’re marrying

Logan is looking at you with so much love and adoration

And right before he falls asleep 

He thinks that maybe it’s not too late for him to find love after all

[starsfic]

Weak Thing

Summary: Stan can't leave the Mystery Shack, especially when the twins take higher priority than Ford's studies and issues.

Some dialogue is based on a Discord convo between me and @vegalocity

"I can't do that."

Stanford Pines was usually a very patient man. You had to be patient to be a scientist and deal with long hours with very little progress, especially in a field like his. However, Stanley had always brought out the worst in him. "Why not?!" he snapped. "It's my house-"

"Because the kids' parents are finally doing what our parents should've done." Stanley had always been blunt, but this amount was enough to get Ford to slam his mouth shut. "They're getting a divorce and-" He sighed, the anger in his eyes easing back just a tad. "I haven't told the kids yet, but they're not just for the summer. They're here for at least a year or two."

"At least?" Ford echoed.

Stanley shrugged. "I don't really know, at least until the battle over property and stuff is over and the divorce is finished. Could be shorter, could be longer. Mark's always had the Pines' stubbornness and Ariel-" That must've been the twins' mother. "Ariel's always been a bit of a bitch but in a good way. It helped them through a lot of things, but now that's against each other."

Ford couldn't help a snort. "That's why they need to work on their issues for the kids-"

A hand wrapped around his throat. It was the second time his twin had shut him up in this conversation, but the last time hadn't had this cold fury in his eyes. "They're getting a divorce for the kids' sake.'' Stanley hissed. "The kids got sent away because Dipper overheard his own mom tell his dad that she should've aborted him and Mabel if she knew how much of a dick Mark was." Ford couldn't say a word. "If you repeat that divorce bullshit around the kids, then you'll only hurt them. Mabel's got this fucked up idea in her head that she can smooth things over with matchmaking and I need to help her with it." He squeezed once more and then pulled away. "But, look. The long and short of it is: Do you want to take care of the kids full time while their parents hash things out in California or do you want to go back to your studies?"

That stung. That stung and even worse, Ford knew what he would pick. "It's my house," he tried anyway.

"Not anymore," Stanley snorted. "Also, what do you think has been paying the mortgage on this place? You lost your grant long before I got here." Wait, no, hang on, that wasn't possible, not with the amount in his savings- Before the could voice his protest and explain how Stanley was wrong, his twin held out a key. "Your records are in the top cabinet, file F," he explained. "I also saved your weird voice recording machine with all the voicemails the university sent." He let out a low hiss. "Warning, they get pretty mean at the end."

Ford wanted to say more. Something. Anything. But Stanley had turned it on him faster than he could blink. He had to try, though. "I can take care of them..." It sounded weak in his ears.

"Sixer," Stan said, the old nickname harsh against his ears. For a minute, he swore Bill was hovering in front of him instead. "You couldn't even take care of yourself without someone holding your hand."

And...that was true, wasn't it? Stanley had to be the one to drag him out of bed so they couldn't be late for school, McGucket taking over in college and during his studies. They had to be the ones to make sure he actually ate something. They had to...

Fuck.

He couldn't do that for two teenagers. He couldn't even do that for himself.

"Good night, Ford. I'll hash out the house rules tomorrow."

Good night, weak little thing.

[bellysoupset]

Sooo the timeline is all wrong, HOWEVER, I feel bad I haven't posted in a while, so 🙈🙈🙈 straight from my drafts! Takes place when Jon and Leo are in the international trip with Angie.

---------------------------

Leo licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry as he watched Jonah prance around on top of the black stallion.

"C'mon, Oklahoma," Jonah grinned, all smug, and damn did arrogance suit him. Clad in riding boots and snug pants, wearing a bright red polo that brought out the green in his eyes, Jonah was a vision, "don't tell me you never rode-"

"As you're aware, I ride all the time," Leo said cheekily, measuring his fiancée up and down, committing him to memory. Jonah's cheeks turned a shade darker, but before he could say much more, Angelina trotted closer, sitting atop a smaller, beige horse.

"Leo, aren't you going to join us?!" She exclaimed, breathless. The teenager had been in cloud 9 since they met up with her in Portland airport. Jetlag and family awkwardness, nothing seemed able to tamper her mood.

"No," Leo shook his head, grabbing his sunglasses and sliding them into place, "I'm gonna keep Jackie company. Let her try and talk my ear off about the wedding."

Jonah snorted at the comment, while Angie giggled. Jon leaned on his horse, "don't let Jackie get under your skin, hold your ground."

"Yesssir," Leo nodded, opening a blinding smile, "don't worry about me, go have fun. I'll be watching."

He waved to the duo once more, before walking away from the field. Next to the polo field there was a restaurant and Jackie was already sat next to Matteo, Jon's stepdad.

Leo knew it was shallow, but he still couldn't wrap his mind around Jackie and Matteo as a couple. She was, easily and even on the cusp of turning sixty, one of the prettiest women Leo had ever seen. Just as tall as her son, with the same royal bone structure, same striking green eyes against dark skin and a dark mane of black curls. Matteo, on the other hand, was a short and chubby white man, with a thick brown mustache, beady eyes and balding strands of silver hair.

They looked like a real life version of Gomez and Morticia Addams, Leo thought with a snort as he approached the table. In truth, Leo knew it was Matteo's personality that had attracted the Jackie. The older man was the definition of a sweetheart and it showed in all his actions, including this very moment as he struggled to put together English sentences so they could have a conversation.

It made Leo feel stupid, that the whole household — Angie included — was solely talking in English, instead of French, for his benefit.

"What do you wish to drink?" Matteo asked as Leo joined them and the blonde shook his head, raising his water bottle.

"Nothing, thank you-"

"I insist," the older man frowned, "no fun in water."

"No, really-" Leo started to say, but Matteo waved him off and Jackie let out a huff, clearly done with the trade of niceties. Despite not being around much after Jonah had turned 10 years old, thanks to the divorce and him leaving to boarding school, it was uncanny how much of her personality Jackie shared with her son.

Ignoring his complaints, his future father-in-law ordered him something, while Jackie grabbed a Tiffany-blue small notebook in her purse and opened it on the table, "So," she rolled open her fancy silver pen, "do you have a date yet?"

"No, ma'am," Leo admitted, blushing without thinking, "we haven't actually decided on much-"

"A venue?"

"No..."

Jackie let out a heavy sigh, drumming her pen against the notepad, "you only have the ring and a dream," she summed up, causing Leo to choke on his water bottle as he started to laugh.

He nodded, wiping the water down his chin and catching Matteo's fond stare, "yeah, pretty much-" then he perked up as a large drink was planted in front of him. It was a pastel yellow, with a little umbrella hanging out and he raised his eyebrows, as the waiter said a jumble of french words explaining what it was. Whatever, it looked delicious and Leo had no intention to refuse it when Matteo was staring at him expectantly.

He took a sip, then perked up at the sweet taste, "It's great!"

"Told you," Matteo said smugly, resting comfortably against his chair, "he's basking in the wedding joy, mon chéri, leave him be."

"No," Jackie scoffed, "you'll get married in America, oui?"

"Oui," Leo answered cheekily, continuing to sip his drink and feeling every bit like a spoiled prince and loving it. He looked past Jackie's shoulder, to where Jonah was shouting at his fellow team mates, his horse racing across the field.

"Winter or summer?" his mother-in-law scribbled down in her notebook and vaguely Leo thought he should tell her to quit while she was ahead, because he had no intentions of letting the woman plan their wedding. Not only he wanted to be involved in every step of his own wedding planning, but he wanted to afford it and Jackie was the type of person who never looked at price tags.

"Summer," Leo sucked in half of his drink, "Luke and Bella got married in Italy and I thought their ceremony was lov-"

"Lucas' got married like a child," Jackie berated immediately, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "barefoot and pregnant, Veronica would've never have approved that."

"They weren't barefoot or pregnant," Leo pouted, although the couple had been barefoot for the final minutes of the wedding, as they jumped into the sea. Jackie scoffed, waving him off.

"You're not getting married as such," she said strongly, almost an order, and Leo fought the urge to roll his eyes, finishing his drink instead.

"Mon cher," Matteo berated Jackie lightly, "it's not up to you-"

"So summer," Jackie ignored her husband in a way that wasn't unlike Jonah, making Leo smile fondly. He reminded himself that Jonah was her only child, a son she had just rekindled a strained relationship with, it was natural for her to be all over this, "how many people are you planning on inviting?"

"Uh..." he scratched at his cheek, suddenly blushing. Next to him, Matteo finished up his fizzy drink and ordered a new one, "I don't have all that many people... Luke, Vince, Bella, Wendy, of course... Uhm, my work colleagues.... My old team... These are all guests I share with Jon," he felt incredibly awkward suddenly, as Jackie raised her eyebrows and observed him without saying a word, "around 15 people? Max?"

The waiter came back with two new drinks and Leo, who had just finished his, was incredibly grateful to Matteo for ordering another cocktail. He needed to occupy himself and have a reason to shut up, before he started apologizing for not having any family.

"Fifty people, then?" Jackie finally said, scribbling down, "it's not a bad party."

"Is it not?" Leo chewed on the straw of his drink, "isn't it... Embarrassingly small?"

Matteo let out a scoff, "Leo, it's only embarrassing if you get embarrassed by it," the man said, causing Leo to squint and try to puzzle together what exactly he meant- He never quite finished his thought, as an overly warm hand suddenly cupped his cheek and Jonah's lips were over his.

Only a quick kiss, but so open and earnest that it left Leo stunned and turning crimson red.

"What are you talking about?" Jonah pulled a chair, wiping at his brow dotted with sweat and plopping down on it. He was still panting, Angie trailing behind him and looking equally exhausted.

"Wedding," Leo offered, his voice coming out strained and a note higher than normal, causing Jonah to raise an intrigued eyebrow.

"I sure hope you're not giving my fiance cold feet, mum," he berated his mother lightly, throwing an arm around Leo's chair and letting his fingertips brush the hair on Leo's nape, sending a shiver down his spine.

He could feel his face burning, so Leo busied himself on finishing his cold drink, all but eating the straw as well.

"There was hardly time for that," Jackie said, not bothering to raise her eyes from her notebook, "all he said was that it would be an intimate ceremony for fifty people, during summer."

"Fifty people?" Jon paused petting his hair, something Leo was thankful for as shivers continued to go down his back and he felt uncomfortably warm, "do we even know fifty people?"

"I said fifteen," Leo pointed out, causing his future mother in law to huff.

"You boys clearly haven't thought this through at all," Jackie said, shaking her head fondly, "draft up a list of names, you'll see it's definitely not fifteen people."

"Yeah," Angie nodded, eager to be in Jackie's good graces, "when mamma threw me the graduation party we also thought it would be small, it was anything but."

Leo tugged on the neckline of his shirt, feeling like he was suffocating, "we'll do a list."

As if sensing his nervousness, Jonah squeezed his nape, leaning in to snatch the cold drink from his hand and taking a sip. This close, Leo could smell the perfume still clinging to his boyfriend's skin, as well as see how drenched in sweat Jon was. He wished his throat didn't feel so tight and his head a little woozy, so he could properly appreciate jockey Jon.

"Uhm... Where's- Where's the bathroom?" Leo felt like his mouth was suddenly very numb. Jon raised an eyebrow, but it was his step dad who answered.

"Just around the bar, up the stairwell-"

"I'll show you," Jon sprung up his feet and Leo nodded, more glad than his pinched face let on, taking the other man's hand to pull himself up.

"We'll be right back."

"Alright, then we can talk theme," Jackie nodded, blissfully unaware, something that Matteo wasn't, watching them with concerned eyes.

Leo felt dizzy, squeezing Jon's hand between his sweaty fingers and feeling like his legs were too heavy to move.

"What's wrong?" Jonah tugged him down the hallway, but not up the stairs and Leo shook his head, grabbing the rail.

"Bath-bathroom..." he struggled to say, pushing himself up a step, "Jon..."

"I got you," Jonah sighed, pouting and sliding an arm around his waist, "look, I know Jackie can be a lot, but fifteen people or fifty, it's not that big of a deal, is it?"

The bathroom wasn't empty, but the one guy that was inside it left as soon as they entered and Leo braced heavily against the concrete sink. He took a shuddering breath, his throat squeezing and his stomach revolting with panic and just sheer nausea.

Jonah was speaking still and he couldn't hear a word.

Suddenly cold water was splashing on his face and Leo startled, catching Jon's eyes in the mirror as the man tried to snap him out of what he thought was a panic attack.

He was partially right.

"Leo?" Jon's tone was much more concerned than it had been on the stairwell, "baby, if talking about the wedding is stressing you this much-"

"Shut up," Leo shook his head, breathing heavily and bending at the waist, "not- Not that..." his belly squeezed and he gagged, but nothing came up. His mouth was so sweet, a shiver of revulsion ran down his back.

"Shit," Jonah whispered, planting a hand on his back, "you're gonna vomit?"

"I feel... really queasy," Leo admitted, clutching the granite for dear life and nodding as an answer.

"This isn't just nerves, is it?" Jonah carefully planted a cold hand against his forehead, pushing Leo's hair back and causing the blonde to slump against his touch.

"No... Feel really really wei-" he never finished that sentence, as his stomach squeezed once more and Leo nearly smacked his head against the mirror as a jet of foamy white puke fell in the sink. He gasped for air, letting out a whimper, and Jonah thumped on his back, causing more vomit to fall in the bowl.

Leo panted, swaying on his feet, "Jonah... Something isn't- Isn't right..."

"Yeah, I can see that," Jonah snapped briskly, but worry was coloring his words, "talk to me, you just got nauseous out of nowhere...?"

"Can't- can't breathe..." Leo turned away from the sink, wheezing and planting a hand on his chest, "Jon-"

Jonah's hands were suddenly on his neck, tilting his head up to clear his airways, fully focused on the task at hand, "through your nose, Leo..."

He greedily inhaled, shaking his head as the whole room blurred over, "some-something'swrong-"

Leo stumbled and nearly fell, Jonah's arms closing around his chest and keeping him from going down. There were black spots appearing in his vision and he was wheezing.

Suddenly he was lying flat on the bathroom floor, with Jonah's stepdad kneeling by his hip... He frowned, only then realizing his head was on Jon's lap, when he tried to move, heart hammering in his ear.

"Don't," Jonah planted a hand on his chest, "ambulance is almost here."

Leo tried to shake his head to say he didn't need an ambulance, but when he did, the whole room twirled around him. He could feel Jon squeezing his arm, saying something else...

"Une allergie à l'ananas?"

"Oui, il a eu de la chance d'être arrivé à l'hôpital à temps. Nous le garderons jusqu'à la nuit au cas où" a different voice answered and Leo groaned, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them, he was in a much brighter room, his head throbbing.

Jonah was standing not far from him, arms crossed and looking pissed, while Matteo was right next to his step son.

"Jonah, calme-toi..."

"Je n'arrive pas à me calmer, il a failli mourir!" Jonah scoffed, turning to glare at the older man, only for his frown to clear up as he saw Leo's bleary eyes open, "Leo!"

"Uhm... Je ne parle france..?" He tried saying, his words coming up scratchy and Jon let out a small, hysterical and watery giggle, while Matteo chuckled at that.

"Français", the older man corrected, patting Jonah's arm, "Je serai dehors avec ta mère"

"Oui, merci, papa", Jonah nodded, then walked closer to the recliner Leo was lying on, "how are you?"

"Woozy..." Leo turned his head, "my stomach's sore, scratchy throat... What happened?"

"Turns out you're allergic to pineapples," Jonah sighed, "and decided to chug two piña coladas."

"I wasn't- I'm not..." Leo frowned, forcing himself to sit up correctly, "I wasn't aware those were piña coladas, I never had them..."

Jon's soft expression suddenly shifted, brows meeting into an angry frown "you knew you were allergic!? And you never told me!?"

"It's not that big of a deal!" Leo cried out, flinching away from his fiancé, "it was never like this, just made me a bit queasy-"

"I thought you were dying!" Jon exclaimed, getting up and pacing. They weren't in a private room in the hospital, but the floor was mostly empty. Leo couldn't make much sense of it, given everything was written in French thanks to their location in Switzerland, but he could overhear people talking in English.

He sighed, curling up on the chair, "Jon... Jonah, angel, sit down. I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm sorry," he looked up at his boyfriend, who was angrily chewing on his lip and had his arms crossed again.

Jonah stopped walking, "they said it wasn't anaphylactic shock," he admitted after a second, "the trouble breathing was probably due to a panic attack, your throat wasn't swollen."

"Ah... See, I told you-" Leo started to say, only to stop himself short as Jon scoffed and glared at him, "can you please sit with me?"

Jonah hesitated for a second, before relenting and sitting down next to Leo, "I need your entire medical record," he mumbled, sounding frustrated and taking the blonde's hand in his, causing Leo to blush, "at least it scared my mom enough she shut up about the wedding."

"She wasn't that bad," Leo leaned back, closing his eyes and still feeling a bit woozy and queasy, "you're her only child, Jon. She only wants to spoil you rotten."

"I'm not a kid," he could hear his boyfriend eye rolling, then Leo let out a pleased sigh as he felt Jonah starting to pet his hair, "get some rest."

"Hmmm," Leo turned slightly on his side, so he could kiss the inside of Jonah's wrist, "would it even be a trip without me throwing up and worrying you?"

His fiancé let out a little snort, moving closer so he was almost draping himself over Leo, "yeah yeah, that's enough for the rest of the trip, though. It's like someone put you in this world to stress me."

"To make your life exciting," Leo cleared up with a yawn

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Sniper x M!Reader 18+ || Passenger Princess

[Road Head][Mutual Masturbation][Sound Kink][Voyeurism]

You knew exactly why you were chosen as Sniper's handler. Miss Pauling was absolutely swamped in work regarding Soldier's effective elimination of a local ecosystem and starting of New Mexico's largest fire in recorded history. The Administrator couldn't be bothered to do anything field work related, so the closest employee was chosen to accompany Sniper- the leash to keep the prized dog from running away.

Both of you thought it was stupid to worry about Sniper of all people running away. Hell, it was more likely that either you or Miss Pauling would be fly to Europe to snag Spy from an impromptu vacation. The rumble of the camper van starting up jostled you out of your passive aggressive daydreams of Monacco beaches as Sniper gave you a look.

"I don't need a bloody babysitter." He muttered to you, clearly unhappy with the situation.

"I totally agree. I'll just stay in the car while you do you, m'kay?" You responded as you buckled your seat belt and relaxed into the worn leather passenger seat. Sniper took a moment before he responded with a simple yet impressed hum of approval.

With that, the painstaking drive wore at your patience. You stayed as quiet as you could, as Sniper did not initiate any conversation... but the opportunity to be so close to one of the mercs! You were usually the cleanup crew! Just one question wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, Sniper seemed calm enough. Miss Pauling described Sniper as one of the most reasonable mercs, so if you had a shot to have a conversation with any of them, Sniper was your best bet!

"So uh, got a name?" You finally broke the silence. God, you felt like a fish out of water.

"..Sniper?" He responded, a slight smile on his face. You could barely tell it was a smile!

"No- nonono, I meant like.. your actual name."

The exhale through his nose was what you could only assume was a laugh.

"Right then, Mick Mundy. Why's it matter?"

"Just.. curious."

"Great, stuck 5 hours in a car with a curious type." Sniper sighed as he briefly rolled his eyes. His sarcastic nature put you off slightly. Did he not want to talk? That was more than fine if he didn't, but he could have said that!

A few moments pass as the awkward tension churned like butter. "Well I suppose I should ask your name too, be polite n' all." Sniper spoke up.

"Oh, does it matter for me though? I mean, I'm just an assistant." You laughed, but eventually confessed your first name.

"That's not a bad name, but I guess you're right. If we haven't met for this long, then we probably won't cross paths again." Sniper shrugged. "How long have you been in Teufort?"

"A few years, I was hired on by Miss Pauling to help with cleanup and stuff... the only reason I'm here with you is because she's busy with news repression. How about you?"

"I got the call about 4 years ago."

"Nice, nice... Paid well?"

"Yeah, 'can take care of my ma and pa."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"You?"

"Eh, it's an hourly job and I haven't slept on 2 days."

"Jesus." Sniper muttered as he glanced at you quickly. You looked well put together from a passing look, but in a more comfortable surrounding? Your eyebags were far more prominent. "Why don't you get a nap in since it's just interstate travel for a bit?" He offered.

You decided to take Sniper up on his offer and get the first taste of sleep that you've had in a good 53 hours.

As the gentle rocking of Sniper's driving drifted you off to dreamland, Sniper kept his thoughts to himself. God, you were hot. As soon as Sniper saw you, he wanted to pin you against the side of his camper and fuck you. But no, he had a code. Be polite, be efficient. He was a professional, with no feelings attached. Although, with you so sweetly asleep not 3 feet away from him, you made him reconsider lust as not an emotion, but a primal need. Rules of nature and all that junk. The way the barely setting sun kissed your skin as you curled around yourself made Sniper bite the inner side of his cheek in restraint.

By the time you woke up, the clock told you that there was a good hour left of driving before you two reached your location. You yawned and stretched, groaning against your will as the noises of your body started up. The little sighs and whimpers drove Sniper insane.

"Mornin'" You groaned as sleep still held you captive. Your body swayed, which led you to slump against the armrest between the two chairs, your head tapped gently against Sniper's side.

"Good morning, you awake?" Sniper muttered.

"Mhm... god, you're hot." You sighed sweetly, not completely aware that you said that out loud.

"Thanks mate, you are too." Sniper assured. He took a risk when he put his hand atop on your head, thumb rubbed over your temple. You giggled and pet his thigh.

Sniper cleared his throat awkwardly, was this a good time to ask? Was it even appropriate? God, your hand was too close for comfort yet so achingly far away! "Do you wanna..?" He hummed, his voice barely above a whisper. You nodded as you fumbled with your pants.

God, the sound of you when you touched yourself- the sound of skin that slid over skin, the sound of your tongue wetting your palm, and the sleepy sigh of need, it all ruined Sniper just to hear. This was grossly unprofessional and impulsive, where the hell did this even come from?! Had you felt the same thing he had? He couldn't look over at you, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he grit his teeth.

"Hey, I'm curious." You speak up, your voice breathy as you continued to move your hand up and down your dick.

"Yeah?" Sniper responded, eager to answer.

"Have you ever gotten road head?"

Quick hands unzipped Sniper's pants and moved Sniper's hard cock through the slit in his underwear. A few experimental pumps was the only warning Sniper got before you swallowed around Sniper's tip, which gave you a choked out moan from Sniper. He was lucky that he was good at driving one handed as he shoved your head down deeper as his fingers twisted into your hair, nails scraped into your scalp.

He wasn't a dick you could deepthroat easily. You choked and coughed violently before you tried again with another effort, half of his length in your mouth with the base covered and jerked off by your hand. You assumed Sniper to be a quiet sort, and you were mostly correct. The bated breathing, the muscle spasms of his stomach, and the deep exhales as Sniper tried to keep his primary focus on driving only spurred you on. As you pleasured yourself, you took extra care to moan around the cock in your mouth.

The noises churned like a thick putty in Sniper's chest. Yeah, getting hsi dick sucked was great, but Sniper was always a more auditorial person. He was able to hear everything and he loved it. Oh shit- wait- god damn it!

Your mouth was flooded with cum as Sniper shuddered out his orgasm with little huffs and groans. You wanted to tease him for popping so fast, but you were far too busy swallowing it down.

"Christ, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

[deanoheartspie]

Sunshine

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: Y/h/c (hair color) tell me what you think!

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

•°Y/N POV°•

My whole life depended on my parents, even though I wanted to leave they made me believe I couldn't do anything on my own and it was in my best interest for me to blindly follow what they wanted.

But... What about what I wanted?

After I ran out on my wedding day because everything was set up and my family was money-hungry greedy whores. I decide to leave and start fresh...even though that meant going to my Aunt Laura's house whom I haven't seen in years.

Driving through the cute little town, while people talked on the sidewalks and had conversations with people without their phones in hand.

NEIGH NEIGH NEIGH

Slamming to a complete stop, I hadn't seen the horse due to the distractions. Noticing a man on it and his head whips around practically glaring at me while he walks over to the car knocking on the window

“What the hell is wrong with you sweetheart?” He asked with his gruff deep voice, that had a hint of an accent.

“I didn't mean to... Is he okay?” I looked up at him, getting a good look at his bright green eyes and freckles on his face.

“She. It's a she. Nope, she got grazed by a woman who couldn't pay attention to the road. Oopsie daisies” The man grumbled placing a hand on his hips, the sun perfectly shining on him to show all his facial features.

I look at him and cross my arms, he sure was a grumpy man. “500 dollar ticket here ya go sweetheart. Damages and all” he said with a smirk sliding the ticket over.

“I grazed the horse not murder it!” I shout out handing him the ticket back, he slightly glares as he tosses it in your car.

“Oh, honey you should be happy that it was my horse and not my car.” He huffed out, walking away and gently pulling the horse to the sidewalk.

When I have the chance, I drive past him and start driving up to my aunts. Fields and fields of grass, cows, and horses scattered around I couldn't help but scrunch my nose. If I'm being quite honest... I've never been a big fan of animals, but I guess I'll have to deal with it while I'm here. Let's just hope they don't get too close.

Pulling up to the driveway, of the beautiful farmhouse that was a little old but sure as hell something you wouldn't find back in the city.

“Oh my! Y/n! You got so big!” before I could even register the person I got squished into a hug that ended by an older gruff voice chirps in.

“Laura, your going to squish her to death” He crosses his arm with a smile, my favorite uncle well...it was either between Daniel my dad's older brother who was a pain in the ass, or Clayton who was just chill. So of course, clay would be my favorite.

“Auntie Laura and Uncle Clay! How have you both been?”

They both have smiles on their faces, the last time I had seen them I was a kid who loved it out here... Times have changed.

“Wonderful! We had to get a ranch hand since this oldie is getting frail even though he doesn't want to admit it.” Laura teasingly mutters tugging me up the creaky porch and handing me a sweet tea.

Scrunching my nose at the sweetness, but I had to admit it was one of the best I've ever tasted so I'll give her that. I ran a hand through my y/h/c hair with a sigh slipping out, as I grab the ticket out of my pocket.

“Oh, dear! Did you get pulled over? What for?” My aunt asks curiously, with a head tilt.

“I accidentally grazed a horse... But you can barely tell, the guy was an ass.” I mutter under my breath, Leaning against the white chipped pillar.

My uncle looks at me with a raised brow, while crossing his arms with a grin. I look at him confused when I turn around to see who he looking at.

“Well hello darlin.” The green eyes look down at me, with a smirk.

Well fuck.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Chapter 2

----Tag list----

@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @jc-winchester @screaming-les-bean @jas-loves-stitch

[anonymous-dentist]

I want more people to talk about how Roier and Jaiden are not besties anymore. If they ever truly were. Everyone’s like “oh familoier, Jaiden Roier and cellbit are such an iconic trio. You got a man his husband and his partner!” But like Roier and Jaiden do not have that connection anymore. I’m unsure if they would even think about sharing to each other about their deepest secrets like they did back then. Plus the whole lack of trust between Jaiden and cellbit that goes both ways. I think the fandom wants him to care so much about her Bc of Roier but like. She’s not even that high on his list anymore and I think cellbit can tell.

To be clear. I would love them to all get along. I would love family dinners. And visits to Bobby’s grave together. And Jaiden helping Melissa with her makeup. I would’ve loved for cellbit to offer her a room in the castle like he did to mouse but like. Even mouse was a stranger when cellbit offered it to her. Their connection is more estranged than a strangers.

I can’t even think of anything that would bring Roier and jaidens friendship back to the bond it was.

And it's absolutely heartbreaking because Jaiden was Roier's best friend for so fucking long. But then Bobby died, and she didn't see room for herself in Roier's life anymore.

She's always had problem with her self-esteem and self-worth. She never really seemed to include herself in Roier's life. She was Bobby's mother, and she legitimately didn't see a purpose for herself after Bobby died. She looked at Roier and saw all those friends of his, friends he quite literally didn't consider his friends outside of Cellbit, and she went. Well. He doesn't need me anymore.

He was the first person she showed Bobby Fields to, and he followed her around all that night trying to protect her from Cucurucho.

But after the wedding, they really haven't talked much. She thinks he's happy now that he has Cellbit, so she's been hanging out with other people. He doesn't need her anymore.

But he and Cellbit were the first to finally notice her missing, and Roier's immediate response was "We need to save her".

But, weirdly enough, the last time they really have had any sort of conversation was at the election dinner in I think August. This was after he spent the debates cheering her on as she moderated, but it was before she really properly started getting manipulated by the Federation via the :) Units (aka the Cucuruchos.)

They saw the Code Bobby and Jaiden stayed by him while Roier immediately realized it wasn't his son and left to get his items from his corpse from earlier. They haven't talked about it since.

They haven't really spoken at all since then. It's gotten to the point where, when thinking of people Roier knew he could count on, it was "Me and Cellbit against the world" where, even just a few months ago before the elections, Roier would've counted her as one of the people he 100% had in his corner.

He says hi when she logs in, and she says hi back, but I don't know if she's seen every building in Bobby's City, or if she's visited Bobby's grave, and I don't think Roier has seen Jaiden's new house or even her new wings.

And it's sad because they were so close when Bobby was alive. Jaiden is currently the only person on that island who knows about his betrayal. They shared a house. I think they even shared a bed on the first floor. She's one of the few people to know about his basement storage system. He was the first person to get to see Bobby Fields, and he remains as one of only four or so people she's ever actually invited to see it.

But the thing is... Jaiden hasn't really ever believed herself worthy of being his best friend the way he considered her his best friend. First, she felt bad about using all his extra gear and living in his house and eating his food. Then, she saw all these people showing up to "save Bobby" and she thought they were there for him and not for her despite them being there for the both of them. She saw Cellbit and thought, well, Roier doesn't need me anymore. And now that he's married to Cellbit and she's being manipulated by the Cucuruchos (and she knows that she's being manipulated, thank you), she probably thinks and knows that she can't trust him with the fact that she's friends with the Cucuruchos because he'll just tell Cellbit about it. She can't trust him anymore, and it's been so long since he's seen her that he might not trust her, either.

[empressgeekt]

I finished reading this really cool fic in a ‘what if Clay received the Brozone letter?’ AU and it kinda miffed me that they described Pop Troll village with zero defenses (there ain’t no way Branch doesn’t have anything post trolls 1&2) so I mashed the Field of Forget Me Nots AU into it and it’s a very fun take! Especially when you add Keith to the hijinks 😁

The fic is called ‘Caught in the Middle’ and other than the zero defense thing (that I am taking way too personally) it’s a seriously good read!

Oh! I have read that one it's very good. Hmm...if such events were to happen in FoF it could go a number of ways...

When entering Bergentown, JD, Bruce, Clay and Viva are apprehended by the Forest Guard (Probably Tresillo, Spoiler I'm having him and his crew join up with the guard after TWT). They arrest are merry band of Out-of-the-Loopers, holding them until after the ceremony. Viva would be trying to talk to the guards trying to tell them that they were all in danger of the bergens, and they would give no reaction other then looking at her like she's crazy. They'd bring Branch in, and he'd be pissed off after Viva started talking. "it's my job to keep trolls safe and you causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone." "If you're supposed to keep them safe why haven't you escaped!?" Needless to say they don't get every far in terms of having and actual conversation. JD would step in trying to get back on topic. Branch would shut that down having recognized his brothers and would not want them to go poking around his new family. "Bitty B hasn't been seen the in village since before the escape. It's all to easy for a trolling to get lost in the tunnels. I'm sorry but your brother is dead." Enter Poppy, carrying a hungry Keith. The queen wants to know what's the hold up because it's time for the reception, and Keith wants some cake, during which she'd say Branch's name cue, very awkward meeting. John Dory would still initiate the hug and still get bitten by Keith. Viva still has her panic but she can't run away with all the guards, leaving both her and Poppy to stew in shock and hurt, but quickly make up. The Brother's not so much. Branch isn't gradually reintroduced to them, so he doesn't have time to get excited about a reunion it's just straight bitterness, even more so with Keith present and his own experience as a big brother himself. At some point Branch would have to pull Poppy away to explain his side of everything. The elder brother's would use this chance to introduce themselves to their, as they assume, "Nephew". Keith's having none of it. Only corrects them saying he was Branch's real brother and then ignores them. They would bring Peppy in and things get ever more awkward, and Branch lays into him. At some point, they'd explain what happened to chef and how she was burned alive for her crimes, which would lead to how Branch missed it due to being in the hospital from the knife wound she gave him. He'd take the helmet off revealing his scar (and maybe eye patch). Brozone is horrified. Keith would twist the dagger in that guilt wound by saying something like, "It was hard since we didn't have any family to help. I had to stay with Poppy, while Branch was in a coma."

Or...they'd successfully get pass the guard and manage to grab Poppy. Only this time they don't just grab Poppy, she's had been mid hug with Keith when Viva snatched her, que very protective and pissed off Branch. This man jumped in front of a powercord for Poppy and Keith, no one is taking them on his watch. He holds his Brothers and Viva at sword point, his soldiers quickly surrounding them, drawing their bows. He recognizes them, but currently he's too mad to care. Viva tries to talk to Poppy, which leads to a freak out, when Viva tries to run, Branch would hit her with a blow dart knocking her out. The next few minutes are tense, Branch tells Poppy to take Keith back to the wedding, and sends all the guards back to their posts. Bruce John and Clay would try to talk to him, but Branch cuts them off, he's not in the mood to talk, so he paces until Poppy comes back, this time with her father. Keith would run over and hug Branch, before crawling into his hair. After Branch loses it at Peppy for a moment, they eventually decide to regroup at Pop village. Viva conked out on the bed in Rhonda as they drive. In the journey, Keith would hop out of Branch's hair to only give Poppy a hug and steal some of the gummy worms she had been hiding in her puffy skirt. With a calmer atmostphere, the Brothers would get a full story on the bergens out of the couple and trolling. Branch would take off his helmet, and reveal the scarring, much to the brother's horror. Branch and Keith are very salty the whole trip.

A few events that happen later would remain the same. Like Clay burning the Funderdrawers, keith would only comment that Clay and John, "Look stupid" Fighting over underwear.

However there would still be many differences, Keith wouldn't eat anything that Bruce cooked so Branch would make dinner, and later in the night, I think that they would peek in on Branch putting Keith to bed, and it really sealing in that these two are family. Jealousy over this and hurt over how closed off Branch is would burn really bad. Espeically for Clay, "Who was this Kid anyway? just a stray that anyone could've picked up!" Clay doesn't like unknown variables and Keith is an unknown. For some reason with this kid here, he thinks that branch wouldn't help them, since he has a brother that he clearly likes better then any of them. Bruce in this context would be a little hurt but he gets it, he had a family of his own now as well. John would come around. More family the merrier.

While practicing Branch would be much more vocal about not breaking out in to an argument in front of Keith, and get them to all shut up after a first run through. John Dory would probably, say that Keith wouldn't sing with them because....technically not family...Branch, Poppy and Keith would glare at him for this. But secretly Branch would be relived not wanting Keith wrapped up in the boy band nonsense. I have a feeling that Branch and Keith would pick up on Clay's hesitance about moving earlier. Keith's very aware, and Branch had to become better at reading people sing Keith's is usually so flat in emotional display. Clay wouldn't want Branch's help at first though, to embarrassed and in denial to take help form his baby brother and the orphan he took in.

When the Putt Putts are having diffuclty believing in a bergen truce, Branch would take off his helmet showing his scar and claiming, "Even if the bergens were still a threat, we have a full militia of trolls trained to take down the largest of predators." "Bergens?" "Even Bergens...wolves, snakes, birds, take your pick. I've taken them all down." "Really?" "B*tch, I stabbed the chef for f*ck's sake! What do you think this scar is?! A fashion statement?!"

When reuniting with Floyd. Branch wouldn't go over to the bottle with the others, he'd stay by Poppy, cradling Keith because all the strangers looking at them would make the kid uncomfortable. After hearing Bruce say that he was an Uncle, Floyd would make the incorrect assumption that Keith was branch's son, and he feels bad about missing out on that. Also the fact that Branch barely interacts with him, when comparison the Puttputts ask about the militia Branch happily talks to them, hurts. it hurts bad. Little Keith hasn't look his way once. Floyd would also be confused as to why, John or Branch didn't want Keith in the song with them. Kid's family it's a family harmony.

Probably by the end of it all it would be pretty similar to the epilogue of the usually FoF. Viva and definitely a few of the puttputts would Join the guard, and Clay would as well, focusing on mor domestic safety things while Branch worried about protection from outside forces, war, predators, natural disasters etc. A nice attention to an already goo protection system.

[crazyk-imagine]

Hotel: Spin Off

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood, Carole Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe (Henry "Wolfman" Ruth)

Warnings: Crack, apart of the crack au, the boys are in left field, no one knows how to protect themselves from the supernatural, this has been in my docs for a bit and finally found the words to finish it, chaotic goose and maverick, we love these crackheads as crackheads, am I posting this before work? Yes

Word Count: 735

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You, Charlotte, and Carole weren't expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen today; it's Tuesday, a plain old Tuesday but- of course, Charlotte spoke too soon.

You walk out of the living room to work on getting started with dinner while Carole and Bradley work on getting the tv set up leaving Charlotte to quickly clean up the toys (since she's the one who brought them out [wanting to teach the youngest Bradshaw a life lesson]).

You brought up the idea of watching movies while you all wait for the guys to come home.

Her phone rings, her ringtone "great balls of fire", echoes throughout the living room, letting you all know it's her hubby calling.

You enter the kitchen in time to hear her tell Nick, "don't come home-"

You hear the instructor's laughter as you walk past the wall, unable to hear anything else; part of you can't help but wonder what she's talking about since they haven't had any issues lately.

You and Charlotte are the first and only ones she talks to if she needs advice, whether it be because of a relationship issue or how to make her hair look more fluffy and less messy, which is how lots of your conversations go.

-

Charlotte wanders around the kitchen making drinks (feeling you girls deserve them) while you work on the food, something you already planned on doing and not just because they all love your food.

You're in the cooking zone by the time you realize your phone is ringing) and not just because the blonde taps your shoulder, informing you otherwise.

You nod and walk towards the dining table to grab the hand towel, so you can wipe your hands and get rid of the vegetable juice to answer the phone.

You pick it up and hold it to your ear and resume chopping. You tap the speaker button and leave the phone close to you "Mav?"

"Who else would be calling you?"

The blonde chuckles.

"I don't know, a murderer."

The blonde behind you scoffs at the two of you.

"I want to murder that-" A scream cuts him off. "I hate them. I really do," he mumbles.

"Who the hell are you talking about, Pete?" You ask with amusement present in your tone. You pause, listening to the background noises, "Why does it sound like you're at a sketchy motel?"

"He's where?" She mutters, coming closer behind you so she can listen in.

He sighs, knowing he can't hide anything from you (or your extra set of ears). "We are."

"What the hell happened while I was at work?"

"You mean other than the fact that I'm dealing with idiots, not much."

You chuckle, swiping the chopped veggies into the pot on the stove. "Are you going to be home for dinner?"

He blows out a puff of air. "I don't know."

You purse your lips, knowing how idiotic the crew can be and can't entirely blame him for coming home late. "Be sure to call me when you know more."

"Trust me I-"

"Mayday, Mav, mayday! Wolf's pulling out the salt." There's a brief pause, "on the bright side, Slider's met his future wife."

He groans, "Jesus, I'm gonna go before they burn the place down."

You open your phone and check the post Carole sent you. "Hey Mav?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell were you guys doing with a ouija board?" You can sense the cogs in his mind turning as he tries to come up with a lie.

"Just- I'll be home soon. This is connected to anything that's happened, we paid the electrical bill on the beach house, right?"

You glance at Charlotte. "We did."

She leans in, "if anything sounds sketchy, hangup."

"So now?" You roll your eyes. "Mav, don't stay out late. We paid the bill and don't wind up in the hospital this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Nick shouts into the phone. "Let me speak to my, lady love. I need to say some things before I meet my maker."

"No, bye," she hangs up the phone.

"Char!"

"What? He was going on and on for so long."

"That doesn't mean you hang up on him."

She shrugs, "oh well." She walks back into the living room. "Care, your husband's going to come home possessed."

You hear her laughter from the living room and poor Bradley being confused.

-

Continue to the series - Top Gun: Crack

-

Tag List

@kmc1989 @blueoorchid

[cabinofimagines]

Chapter IV; convincing

So it took a while, but at some point I realised I wanted to finish writing at least arc one before posting the rest so oops.

Word Count: 1.2k

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-Asnyox

You both re-entered the clearing, followed closely by an overly excited Mrs. O’Leary. 

"No problem, I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs." You overheard Percy saying. Nico was the first of you two to speak up, letting your presence be known to the demigod and tree nymph. 

"Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well." You could see clearly that Percy was nervous as he tried to smile. You were aware that Nico had made it pretty clear to Percy what his plan was, and if you were in this kid’s shoes you would have been nervous too. Luckily, you were just an idiot tagging along in the plan.

"Welcome back. Did you come by just to see Juniper? And who is your friend?" Nico blushed and you wondered whether it was about the friend thing, or about Juniper.

"This is (Y/n), and um, no. That was an accident. I kind of . . . dropped into the middle of their conversation." Blushing out of embarrassment then, you inwardly cheered. He also did not deny the friend comment you happily noted.

"He scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. But, Nico, you are the son of Hades and all. Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?" Nico shifted his weight. Ah, she must have been crying worried over her lover. You had caught some of the stories around camp, however you did not know any of these people personally, so you tended to mind your own business. 

"Juniper, like I tried to tell you . . . even if Grover died, he would reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls." "But if you do hear anything?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. "Anything at all?" Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Uh, you bet. I'll keep my ears open." 

"We'll find him, Juniper," Percy promised. "Grover's alive, I'm sure. There must be a simple reason why he hasn't contacted us." She nodded glumly. "I hate not being able to leave the forest. He could be anywhere, and I'm stuck here waiting. Oh, if that silly goat has gotten himself hurt—" Mrs. O'Leary bounded back over and took an interest in Juniper's dress. Juniper yelped. "Oh, no you don't! I know about dogs and trees. I'm gone!" She went poof into green mist. You gaped at her disappearance, never having gotten close to a tree nymph before. 

Mrs. O'Leary looked disappointed, but she lumbered off to find another target, leaving Nico, Percy and me alone. Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off. You were impressed by his control, but truly you felt as if this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. 

"I was sorry to hear about Beckendorf." Nico said and you downcast your gaze, having heard the news quiet recently. This was one of the first people from camp that you knew who died, and the news had taken a toll on camp. 

"How did you—" Percy started, and you were reminded that he was there with Beckendorf on the ship. "I talked to his ghost." So the rumours about Nico’s powers were true – he could actually converse with the dead. "Oh . . . right." "Did he say anything?" 

"He doesn't blame you. He figured you'd be beating yourself up, and he said you shouldn't." "Is he going to try for rebirth?" Nico shook his head. 

"He's staying in Elysium. Said he's waiting for someone. Not sure what he meant, but he seems okay with death." You weren’t sure how to feel about these developments, but before you could give it much thought Percy started talking again.

"I had a vision you were on Mount Tarn," he told Nico. "Was that—" 

"Real," Nico said. "I didn't mean to be spying on the Titans, but I was in the neighbourhood." "Doing what?" 

Nico tugged at his sword belt. "Following a lead on . . . you know, my family." Percy nodded. You side eyed your friend, wanting the ask for an elaboration. However, you had felt him close the moment Percy started asking questions to him. You had heard a whisper about a sister, but there was nothing you could go off from. Nico was a mystery to you and you wished you could unravel it. 

"So how did it go?" Percy asked. "Any luck?" 

"No," he murmured. "But I may have a new lead soon." 

"What's the lead?" 

Nico chewed his lip. "That's not important right now. You know why I'm here." You saw Percy’s face fall. You knew Nico wanted you to help convince Percy, but you had barely exchanged a word with the son of Poseidon before. What were you supposed to do? Tell him you would safe him from being stabbed? 

"Nico, I don't know," Percy said. "It seems pretty extreme." 

"You've got Typhon coming in, what . . . a week? Most of the other Titans are unleashed now and on Kronos's side. Maybe it's time to think extreme." Nico looked towards you as to urge you to help him. You stepped forward. 

“If I may, Percy, “ you looked the son of Poseidon in the eye, surprised by the distrust in them, “I’ve been at camp since April – if Nico hadn’t brought me here I would have been dead and I know that even with how hard I – we – camp has been working,” you heard sounds of fighting in the distance, “I fear we are hardly a match for the Titan army.” Nico nodded in agreement. 

“This comes down to you and Luke. And there's only one way you can beat Luke We can give you the same power," Nico urged. "You heard the Great Prophecy. Unless you want to have your soul reaped by a cursed blade . . ." You hadn’t heard the prophecy fully yourself – around camp it was deemed a kind off taboo to mention or talk about.

“You can't prevent a prophecy," Percy said. 

"But you can fight it." Nico had a strange, hungry light m his eyes. "You can become invincible." 

"Maybe we should wait. Try to fight without—" 

"No!" Nico snarled. "It has to be now!" You were startled at his outburst – but you did agree with him. 

"Urn, you sure you're okay?" Percy asked and you threw him a wary look. 

“Percy, look,” you started as you noticed Nico taking a deep breath, “It will be significantly harder, maybe even impossible to take this journey when the fighting starts. Maybe even too late- if you want to prevent any more losses, deaths on our side you must go now.”

“I'm sorry if I'm being too pushy,” Nico’s gaze was strict towards Percy, “but two years ago my sister gave her life to protect you. I want you to honour that. Do whatever it takes to stay alive and defeat Kronos”

"All right," Percy decided. "What do we do first?"

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr Day Four: Watching while a loved one is hurt

Fandom: Endeavour. Post 4x04 Harvest. I watched the episode like a week ago and Forgot Details and haven't rewatched it to fact check anything so if something doesn't line up with canon oh well ignore that. I just love Morse and Miss Frazil's friendship SO MUCH i wanted to explore it a little. (May cannibalism this scene if i ever get around to writing my 'joan says yes' au)

word count: 1,563

___

Dorothea wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but somewhere through the years her acquaintance with Morse had shifted from a respectful professional relationship to genuine friendship. It was a development that hadn’t been entirely intentional, but there was something about the young man that made her think he hadn’t had much friendship in his life. There was a hungriness about him, a desperate desire to be loved that she was sure he didn’t admit even to himself. 

She found him almost on accident, the day after everything at the Bramford power plant had been wrapped up. He was sitting at the bar of the pub, nursing a pint and staring morosely at an untouched crossword in front of him. Dorothea took him in for a long moment, seeing the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion in the way he sat, leaned over the bar. He was staring at nothing, eyes dull and half glazed over, clearly lost in thought. 

He looked positively worn out, and Dorothea felt her heart clench at the sight of him. He was so brilliant, so young and full of energy. Had a brain so fast and wonderful, but life had beaten him down so quickly. He didn't share much, but Dorothea had years of investigative journalism behind her--she could read between the lines, could pick out a story in the shapes left behind by absence. Not for the first time she thought he was a man too used to caring and not used to being cared for. 

To break the ice, she cleared her throat and sat down at the stool beside him. He started, torn out of his thoughts and the lost expression on his face shifted into a small smile. 

“Miss Frazil,” he greeted, shifting his newspaper aside to give her room. She smiled back at him, placing her handbag on the bar. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“I'm alright, thank you Morse,” Dorothea answered. She eyed the mostly empty glass in his hands, wondering how many he'd finished before she had arrived. Best not to bring more alcohol into the equation--heaven knows he could drink enough without encouragement. 

She started with work, knowing he would close himself off immediately if she pushed too hard too quickly. 

“You were at the plant, were you not?” she asked. A wary expression crossed Morse's face, but he seemed to relax a little nonetheless. She thought back to their last conversation, when she had dropped him off by an empty field. He'd opened up then, just a little. Bared himself just enough to show his hurt, but not quite enough for her to do anything about it. “Anything you can tell me?” 

The request pulled a small smile from him, something Dorothea was grateful to see. He rolled his pint between his hands and shook his head, turning to look at her. There was a cut along his hairline she noted--that hadn't been there last she saw him. 

“I'm afraid not,” he said. He still seemed distant, mind on other things. Not fully engaging in their usual dance as they tried to tease information out of the other. 

“The official story is a fire,” she said. His hand drifted to the cut. He nodded. 

“Best to leave it at that,” he said. She waited, long years of experience telling her the best way to get information out of someone was to wait. Let him tell her in his own time. 

Though it wasn't really what had happened at the plant she wanted to know. Not right now, at least. Like as not, it wasn't going to be anything she could publish anyway. 

What she really wanted to know was what was bothering him. It was more than this current case, more even than his flat being burgled earlier in the week. She knew him well enough to see it in the way he sat, the line of his shoulders, the shadows in his eyes. 

“Off the record, sabotage,” he said finally. This time he did press his hand to the cut on his forehead. “Some plot by Bagley, planning to leak radiation into the nearby area to prove just how dangerous nuclear energy is.”

Now that would be a juicy story. The part of Dorothea that was pure journalist wanted to dig deeper into it, chase the story, share it with the world. But from the way Morse was hunched, from the sensitivity of the situation, she knew that this would be another story by the wayside. Another time societal requirements won over the truth. 

Sometimes she felt a little bitter about that. But she told herself to keep looking forward, finding the next story, uncovering the next truth. 

“And you stopped it,” she said and he nodded, his attention still wandering. “You alright?” 

It was an innocent enough question, one she knew wouldn't shut him down immediately. There were a lot of ways to answer that, and Morse could choose how much he shared. 

“I'll live,” he said. She wasn't surprised by the answer; it was a dismissal, his way of saying he didn't want to talk. Not quite fully a lie, not quite fully vulnerable. 

He infuriated her, sometimes. He was so clearly in need of someone looking out for him, but he was so stubborn he refused to accept help, let alone ask for it. 

Sometimes she wanted to force him to stop, put him up in her small apartment for a week so she could put some meat on his bones and light in his eyes. Drive it into his stubborn skull that people cared and he didn't have to go at life alone. 

“Really?” she asked gently. 

He let out a long breath and emptied the last of his beer. 

“Still don’t feel entirely safe at home,” he admitted. “Feels too empty.” 

She nodded sympathetically. She knew a little about feeling vulnerable in a place that was supposed to be safe--it had been a few months since her kidnapping by Leyton-Asprey, and she still felt uneasy being alone in her office. Coming home to find his space invaded so violently had clearly shaken Morse and she couldn’t find fault in that. 

But he was using it as a shield, holding up the reasonable excuse so she didn’t dig any deeper, uncover the actual source of his hurt. Always hiding himself, was Morse. And Dorothea hated not knowing the truth. 

She let the silence sit for another moment, pondering her next course of action. It was always a delicate balance with Morse, finding the line between getting him to open up to her without shutting down fully. He needed to come at his own pace, but he needed to know she wanted to know. She wanted to share whatever his hurt was, help him in whatever way she could. 

She thought maybe he didn’t have many people he could feel safe opening up to, and she didn’t want to break the trust they had built over the years. 

“There was a girl.” 

His words came as a surprise, and it took Dorothea a second to process them. He spoke them softly, a mix of hurt and bitterness mingling in his voice. 

She thought back to that last conversation in the car on the country road. He’d denied a girl then, a scoffing almost-bitter voice proclaiming he didn’t have anyone. She’d thought it was a laden admission at the time, and now she felt a little vindication. 

It wasn’t sweet vindication. Not seeing how he was hunched into himself, not seeing the heaviness in his eyes. Heartbreak, she realised. Not something new to him, she concluded. 

“Ah,” she said softly. Morse stared into his empty pint glass. 

“She… had some trouble,” he said finally, looking anywhere but at Dorothea. “I couldn’t help her. She didn’t let me help her.” 

‘Sounds familiar,” Dorothea thought, expression soft and understanding as she looked at Morse. 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, not knowing how else to help. She was glad he had let her in, glad he had shared at least something. Gently, she reached across the bar to squeeze his forearm. 

He started, looking down at her hand and then back up at her, seeming unsure what to do with the unexpected touch. Again, Dorothea couldn’t help but feel he had been so starved of everything a persons should have--love, intimacy, friendship. The knowledge that people care. 

For just a moment, he let her in fully. She saw the despair behind his eyes, the grief and loss. The hurt that informed every part of his life, walls and barriers and scars built up after a childhood starved of love and an adulthood seeing the worst of humanity. 

Then he shifted, pulling his arm away and looked back down at the newspaper in front of him. The moment was over, the walls were back up. Once again, he locked her out and was alone in his hurt. 

Dorothea knew there was nothing she could do for him except just wait until the next time he was brave enough to be vulnerable. For now, maybe that would be enough. 

“I’ll buy you a drink,” she said, sensing the companionship would be of more use than anything else right now. He flickered a small, forced smile in her direction and picked up a pen to start filling out the crossword. 

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Pretty Girl [22]

"You are never allowed to leave me with him again."

I point an accusatory finger at Larry, making him keel back in his seat and scrunch up his nose.

"What the hell did he do to you?" Larry barks out, voice cracking beneath the weight of his tone.

I scoot onto a bar stool, watching as Ash pulls out a pan to cook dinner. As Larry's settling in beside me, ready to hear about the latest gossip, Todd walks through the door. It's been about an hour since Sal dropped his intimidation tactic on me and I haven't seen him since. Larry walked in with Ash mere minutes ago, the two of them giggling over their perfect timing.

I don't have even an ounce of giggle in me.

I shake my head at emo buff daddy. "I'm sure it'll be the first words out of that monster's mouth. Give him five minutes. Tops," I reply half heartedly, knowing full well that as soon as Sal realizes we're all gathered in the kitchen, he's going to come out and confirm everyone's suspicions about me.

Ash turns to me, string cheese hanging from her mouth as she says, "While the boys are out tomorrow, I'm taking you on a tour of Nockfell." She gives me a cute little half curtsy then turns back to prepping dinner, I guess.

She's used to Sal and I bickering at this point so the fact that more has happened means nothing to her.

"A tour won't be necessary considering y/n's already lived here."

I stay silent, watching the way Ash gives herself whiplash, mirroring the action with wide eyes. Larry makes a single sound, something caught between a screech and garbled choke. And Todd merely raises his brows a bit, setting his bag by the door and taking off his shoes.

Tongue in cheek, I stare straight into the kitchen, avoiding everyone's gazes even as Sal crosses my field of vision to steal the rest of Ash's cheese. I try not to watch the way he plucks the cheese from her lips then lifts up the bottom of his prosthetic to eat the rest. 

Ash's brows furrow, lips parted as if she's still holding her cheese, then whirls around to smack the back of Sal's head. The man hisses at the assault, ruffling his cerulean hair where he rubs his head to soothe the ache. 

"What the hell did you just say!?" Ash proceeds to bellow, her emerald eyes cutting into the Smurf's soul. Damn Travis for giving him that nickname.

"The obvious," Sal murmurs, buckling the bottom of his prosthetic back onto his face. His pretty face that I really wish I could see again.

This time, Ash doesn't snap back at him. Her eyes, still murderous, only hold Sal's gaze as her glossy lips press together.

"So," Larry hops into the conversation, seemingly trying to bite down whatever kerfuffle is brewing between Ash and Sal. "It's true then?" he continues. I turn my head, noting Larry's raised brows. He looks hopeful and a little... crushed all at the same time. "Why didn't you tell us all?"

My mouth opens to spew out whatever nonsense fills my head because he doesn't understand. And I don't know how to make him understand either. But I take a moment, snap my lips shut, and think about my response.

"We figured you'd tell us before Sal of all people." Todd's voice fills the hollow silence and that's when Larry's question finally clicks in my head. He didn't mean tell them all in general, he thinks I opened up to Sal about it before everyone else. It sounds like me hiding my identity doesn't even offend them in the slightest.

"I didn't tell this asshole a single thing," I bite out, gesturing to Sal who rears his head back as if someone finally told him he needs to repaint his damn nails. Offended. "He--" I purse my lips, trying to quickly reword this afternoon's events in a way that doesn't spell out the fact that Sal Fisher feasted on me like Thanksgiving dinner laid out on his gaming desk. I blink. "He walked out of his room, had an epiphany or something, and called me out by name. What was I supposed to do?"

It's quiet. Quiet in the sense that I could hear everyone's hearts pounding simultaneously if I focused hard enough. Up until: "I told her that we all knew. You guys were being nice about it and, well, I'm not. Case closed. Vi is y/n confirmed and now we can squash out the hiding and tiptoeing. Welcome to the real world." Sal's less-than-chipper, nonchalant voice echoes in the near silent kitchen as he explains himself, leaning against the sink beside Ash.

"Does Ash know though?" Larry raises an eyebrow at Sal and his expression is wary, concerned. Like he's afraid of the moment Ash squeals in excitement over this discovery.

Sal just gives his brother a bland look. "Brain, Lartholomew. Use your brain, not your cock."

Larry's eyes narrow. "I'll have you know that my schlong has never led me astray," he says pridefully. "But as for Ash," He turns his head and levels a glare at the beauty. "You didn't say a single word about this. What's up with that?"

It's my turn to cut in now. Ash isn't at fault here-- not a single bit of this falls onto her because all she did was exactly what I'd asked of her. She's been perfect.

"I asked her to stay quiet," I say, shriveling a bit as all heads turn to me, clearly waiting for an explanation. So I take a breath and tell them the truth-- at last. Shedding the weight of lying after dying to let it out and be honest for so long.

"A day or two before I came in as VioletViolence," I start, glancing between Todd and Larry. I'm talking to them-- Ash already knows the deal and I know Sal couldn't care less. "I watched the video where you guys talked about me. And I heard everything Sal had to say. I called Ash later, ended up having a short and quick chat with Sal--" I try not to aim a menacing glare at him while recalling the memory. "And then Ash... knowing that things kind of sucked for me in LA, offered to help me get started with streaming. You guys know I like games, she does too, so I decided to try it out. But in between that, I was terrified of Sal for whatever reason and didn't want to say who I truly was. What if he called me out online or refused to play or something? It just felt... it felt so dire," I try to explain, accentuating with my hands, desperate to portray what went through my mind. What led to this. "That I couldn't come out as myself. And I'm sincerely sorry for all of it-- for not being open with you guys sooner, for approaching the situation with a disguise to begin with. I'm sorry."

The words pour out of me and it takes every inch of my sanity not to fold in on myself. Admitting the truth is scarier than visiting the dentist. I should have just been honest from the start.

"So it's your fault."

I focus in on Larry who practically scowls through each word-- his head tilted at Sal and fury dancing in his pretty, chocolatey eyes. 

My eyebrows raise as I watch the stare down between both men, taking a mental note to bet on who would win. Maybe I can make a couple bucks.

Unfortunately, my bet is on Sal simply because he's normally incredibly calm with his responses-- unless it's him and I arguing, of course. "If it's any consolation," he says, watching Larry without an inch of fear in those azure eyes. "I kind of feel bad about it."

I suck in a quick breath as some kind of tie unfastens around my heart. It's not an apology, but it's an emotion. From Sal. From the aggravation and... acquaintance he's slowly turning into for me... that has ailed my soul for months now.

It's not an apology, but it means something.

"Then do better, Fisher," Larry warns playfully, smacking his lips. "Y/n's family. She's not going anywhere. You have to get used to it."

Sal rolls his eyes, slipping back into his usual, foul personality. "Joy," he blandly states. And like a phantom wind, Sal simply slinks over to the fridge, grabs another string cheese, then disappears into his room. No wonder he's so damn pale-- I have no doubt he has some kind of vitamin deficiency.

Todd sighs, breaking the temporary silence that had settled over us. And for what it's worth, instead of arguing that I'm not family, Sal silently accepted it instead.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The next morning, Ash has me up at the crack ass of dawn.

It's actually just 10pm, but it feels early enough considering Larry and I stayed up til 3am streaming together. We double-teamed heaping groups of poor, unfortunate victims in Among Us. It was really fun and our fans loved seeing us side-by-side on whoever's stream they decided to join.

Ash and I decided to spend the night too. Apparently, things didn't go down great at her house so she wanted to give her parents some time to cool off. I didn't want to pry, especially since it seemed like it wounded Ash too, so we pulled out the sofa bed and camped out in the living room together. The whole night, I could have sworn I felt something purring at my feet, but maybe it was just a dream.

I replaced my normal mask with a sleeping mask for the night. Doesn't cover as much but it's better than nothing, plus I had my head hidden under the blankets regardless. Either way, whatever I did managed to do the trick and no one discovered my other identity.

Both boys are apparently gone by now, having embarked on their own journeys that they claimed they had for the day.

"Come on, get up, time to go," Ash chirps like a mourning dove when all the morning glories begin to bloom. I am not having it, even as I follow her orders and change into some clothes for the day-- black skirt, Type O Negative merch shirt, and vans. Could be better, could be worse. Ash says I look 'smashing' though, even if the color of my outfit clashes with the violet of my mask.

When I walk into the kitchen, I grab a croissant resting on a paper plate and stuff it into my mouth for a quick breakfast. Ash grabs a crimson purse that looks like it costs more than my prospective college tuition would have, and gestures to the front door. "We're walking today, gorgeous," she tells me with a grin. "Nockfell's tiny. We get around on bikes or our feets."

"Feets?" I ask with a giggle, enjoying the cool breeze that flows into the house when Ash opens the front door. 

Ash nods proudly. "Yup. Feets."

So we use our feets and walk through the little town of Nockfell. It's everything I remembered it being-- a scene straight out of the Halloween franchise. Tall oaks shedding their leaves, glowing a golden brown and yellow in the dim sunlight. That is, whatever little sunlight manages to shine through the overcast clouds that threaten to spill their rainy contents every second.

The pumpkins aren't in season yet. The numerous, empty crop fields we pass on our trip onto main street tells me as much. But it's only a matter of time now, just a couple months until little pumpkins begin to pop up.

"For now, we're dropping by Henry's music store, mainly because I know you want to see it since you like music and all. After that, we can do whatever you want-- or just go home. Doesn't matter to me," Ash says as we finally reach Nockfell's main street. It's this one road that runs straight through the heart of Nockfell. The road that travelers take to get through the city as quickly as possible. 

I look over at my best friend, observing her wine colored lips that nearly match her purse, then her long-sleeved, grey crop top and black jeans. She's so pretty.

"Henry has a music store?" I ask once I remember that the goddess on my side spoke to me.

"Mhm," Ash hums, flipping her sort of short hair over her shoulder. "It's just a couple buildings away now," she continues, leaning toward me and pointing down the road ahead of us. I haphazardly glance, assuming that the giant record sign with an F in the middle is the store in question. 

Ash and I are walking into the store just seconds later. We hover near the door only until Henry catches Ash's eye. She launches into a speed-walk in his direction, but I admire the inside of the store before following.

Guitars of various types and colors litter the walls of the store. So many... so many that I can't even count. And then the floor houses different drums, add-on's for instruments, and a wide variety of records. It's stunning-- so much so that I swear I can hear seraphim singing all around me. Such an angelic thing to see; the makings of the best genre of music. 

When I snap out of my ogling, I walk over to where Ash is finishing up a conversation with Henry.

I smile at the man as he walks away from the front counter, moving over to help a young boy who's desperately trying to hold onto a guitar that's far too large for him. Sweet little thing.

I turn my attention to Ash who's chewing on the end of a pixie stick,-- I don't know where the hell she got it from-- gazing lazily at Henry's silhouette. Her eyes slide to mine, viridian irises shining in the various fluorescent lights that add a mystifying brightness to the space-y room. She gives me a bewitching smile, teeth imbedded into the stained paper of her candy.

With a smile back at her, I lean my elbows onto the counter I found her at and rest my chin in my palm. "Are we camping out with the boys again tonight?" I voice my internal question, watching as she purses her lips in contemplation.

"It's up to you," she murmurs, shrugging. "We've all been packed up for the most part since before we went to LA. We just have necessities to pick up— which, that's all at the boys' place because they all live together." I guess she's trying to avoid the topic of her parents. Her eyes glaze over me, thinking about the best option, no doubt. "We leave in two days— more than enough time to pack up their kitchen and get my boxes into a van."

"I'm fine with either option," I bashfully admit. I hate making decisions— I don't want to disappoint anyone, especially when I'm more than happy to do whatever.

Ash narrows her eyes at me playfully, scrutinizing me and my lacking decision lightheartedly. "I'll just ask Larry what he wants to do then," she chirps. Bless Ash and her ability to find a solution to everything. "Would you be able to put up with Sal for another night if we decide to stay?"

I snort. "Yea, don't worry about that. He seems to be the type to lock himself in his room for hours on end and never come out," I chuckle a bit as I think about how I was occupying a few minutes of those hours for him yesterday. "That means we'd hardly cross paths."

Ash tilts her head, lips quirked up lightly as her hair falls into her eyes. My fingers itch to push the strands away from the forest of green hiding beneath. "I think he's warming up to you," she counters my rationale with something so obnoxiously ridiculous that I nearly fall over.

"Yea, okay," I answer sarcastically, unable to hold back the crazed laugh that falls from my lips.

The music in the room suddenly grows louder, cutting off our conversation. Ash jumps out of her skin, eyes momentarily going wide. But then they narrow, brows bunched together as her gaze shoots to me.

"Why the hell is it so loud?" she voices my thoughts.

But that's the thing, it isn't just loud. It's suspiciously concert-like. "Is someone playing?" I ask, turning to see if Henry is the culprit— I hear guitar and drums. Someone is playing Save Me by Killswitch Engage beautifully.

Ash whips her head to the side like she got sucker punched. I watch as confusion flits across her features, and then stony concern. Clear apprehension exemplified by the pinching of her lips, but some frustration mixed in there too if her furrowed eyebrows are a hint to anything.

So I turn my head to look where she is too, finding that someone is playing. Well, people are playing. Todd's boyfriend, Neil, is going to town on a drum kit like a pro. I'd noticed the set up upon walking into the store but I didn't think it was usable.

I'm thinking Neil might play a big part in my life-- more specifically, he might play a big part in a very specific band.

And in front of him is a man with a guitar in his hands. A blue guitar and that red, gold, and black mask with music notes. Intricate, loud, mysterious. And I am one hundred percent hallucinating right now because why the fuck would North be in Nockfell of all places? The Faces' hometown or not, this is fever dream material.

"What the fuck." Words fall from my lips before I can really think better about them, my eyes darting over every inch of North's figure like an alligator staring at its prey-- probably something innocent like a bunny. I feel like such chaos compared to North who has been nothing but pure, sweet, and tender to me. But the way his fingers, clad in fingerless leather gloves, move along the strings of his vibrant guitar, his mask tilted down with his head as he watches his finger placement and movements, and the positioning of his entire body as he shreds through a guitar solo. What else is supposed to go through my mind other than unintelligible button smashing? My mental keyboard's letters are flying around my head like a fucking tornado.

A monotonous, mumbled reply from Ash makes me blink at the rockstar, my eyes never leaving his form. "Dark Autumn Complex recorded their music video here," she answers the question I failed to ask— she knows me so well. "I thought they'd left."

Tongue in cheek and heart racing a mile a minute, I say, "Why am I just finding out about this?"

"Because it didn't matter at first," she instantly replies, voice a tad louder. "But now I'm starting to wonder if what Larry said was true."

I gulp. I've been wondering about that too. About North's supposed crush on me. I assumed it was all in good fun, but Ash possibly finding some hidden truth in the matter makes my stomach feel queasy. And the queasiness isn't bad.

I bite down on my bottom lip, watching as North and Neil close the song, breaking off on a heavy chord before taking a moment to catch their breath. Neil wipes beads of sweat off his forehead, captivating smile enveloping his face and illuminating his mocha skin. Todd wasn't lying when he flaunted about his boyfriend being a complete catch.

North, on the other hand, lets his guitar hang from his chest and turns to Neil, uttering something quiet enough to the point that Ash and I can't hear. It's clear that the two men are communicating though because Neil is nodding his head in agreement, laughing heartily, and talking back to him.

I turn away, facing Ash who stands behind the counter. I don't need to get myself tangled up in another messy situashionship. Sal's more than enough in that department, plus North is too gentle for that. I wouldn't do that to him. I don't need all this strife and mess. It's probably better if I don't talk to North anymore, even if the thought pulls at my heartstrings a little too hard.

Ash is chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes slowly roving around and growing closer to my own body. My breath catches in my throat as I contemplate what to do within the next few moments. My best friend looks anything but content and I know her eyes are tracking North's movements. Her calculated emerald eyes say enough.

My lunch leaps into my throat when arms cage me in from behind, hands resting on the counter on either side of me. I have, like, five seconds tops to decide on a plan before I address the man behind me and his very bold approach. Wow, never thought I'd be shooting down a hot guy like this.

I run my tongue over the surface of my teeth, tilting my head up a bit to find that fancy mask hovering over my body and showing off what looks like grey eyes that are solely focused on me.

My heart thumps like there are a thousand little miners embedding pickaxes into the crevices of the organ, trying to dig their way through to see what lovely minerals they'll find. It's almost too much— the little intrigued, shocked twinkle in the masked man's shaded eyes and the way his fingertips dig into the wood counter in front of me, arms encircling my body like a shield.

I slap a smile onto my lips, a smile that undoubtedly looks nauseated and a mess. But it's a smile. "Hi, North." The words pop past my lips and I thank my body's natural instincts for a moment. I always babble when I'm cornered and I appreciate that weakness at the moment. It might scare him off before I have to possibly break his heart. Hopefully it doesn't come to that.

My head tilts downward again and I carefully shift myself, turning my body around to face the man as he takes a step away. In addition, his head tips to the side almost as if he didn't expect me to speak.

So I keep speaking despite how badly I wish I could shut up now. The babbling worked a second ago but this consistency— I might as well consider myself a pile of vines wrapping my way around this poor guy's legs. I can't stop.

"My cousin thinks you're hot." I seethe on the inside, willing myself to just shut the fuck up. I've said all of seven words to him in the span of a full minute and it's already getting worse. "Can I get a picture of you to send to him?" Y/n, please, for the love of everything holy.

I'd never truly be able to explain the panic that coursed through me upon seeing him playing his guitar, but having him suddenly right in front of me has sent me into flight or flight mode. My fight instincts are to bargain my way out or yap until someone gets bored with me so... here we are.

Much to my chagrin, North fucking nods. This walking, breathing, living piece of sex on a stick nods at me to signal his agreement to a picture. And now I'm stuck and Ash can't see my face so she doesn't know the fear roiling through my limbs right now, taking over my brain and turning me into someone I'm not. Arguably.

So I lift my phone with shaky fingers and slap the most pathetically petrified grin on my face to take a quick picture of us and send it to Travis because now I have to follow through with the stupid last minute plan.

But things always get worse when it comes to me. I make a mental note to stop putting myself in tricky situations the moment that North moves beside me and stands so close that his arm has to wrap around my upper back and his chest is pressed into my shoulder. I lose every sense, falter for such a long moment that I forget how to breathe.

The warmth radiating through the right side of my body is intense, alongside the cool fingers gently pressing into the top of my left arm where his hand wrapped around me. I hear a sigh from behind— Ash.

His mask taps against the side of mine and I realize that I can just make out the sound of his even breathing. Quiet, muffled, unbothered. This is nothing to him— likely something he does with fans quite often. Does he get this close to them too? Is he this intimate with everyone? Based on how comfortable he seems, I'd guess this is routine. I'm nothing special— and I don't know if that's relaxing or the reason my own bodily functions haven't returned to normal yet.

I gulp, flipping my camera to take a picture of us together. I muster up the best little smile I can force, a slight tilt of my lips and squinting of my eyes. North presses his face a little closer against mine, the plastic of our masks causing a dull scratching sound that reverberates through my entire skull. A tattoo in the lonely, forgotten, impenetrable part of my brain that swore off any little desperate feelings of tenderness years ago.

I snap the picture quickly and bring my phone down, hastily clicking onto Travis's contact to send the photo. "Thanks," I shakily chirp to North, "I'll keep it forever." I say it with a subtle tone of finality, hoping that it'll result in him moving away... but he stays, chin on my shoulder as my quivering fingers hover over the keyboard.

Okay. I guess he's curious. He must be enjoying the way I'm very obviously squirming.

I type out a quick text before sending the picture.

Me: guess what :3 Me: (1 attachment)

Travis's response comes no less than a full five seconds later, the little text bubble popping up the way North popped into Nockfell today. I hate my life.

Simp for the Entire Male Population: BITTTTTCCCCHHHHH Simp for the Entire Male Population: Hold on, FaceTime me so I can show him my cock.

That brings me a little bit of joy. I snort at the message, noting that it's the exact moment that North finally moves— but it's not away from me, it's a laugh he's barely able to keep hidden, a snort just like mine if you will. I could love this man, I really could, but I won't.

And then he plucks my phone from my fingers which sets me into fight mode again, but this time I'll actually drop kick him. I have a lot to lose with my phone in someone else's hands— if he clicks out of my messages with Travis, he could see my real name somewhere. He could see my messages with my dad, hell, he could see my messages with Sal— that perpetually unsaved number sitting in my messages with his last text including the name Lexi.

A flicker of unadulterated fear and failure makes me feel as if I'll vomit, sweat building up on my forehead at the mere prospect. But North, he doesn't move my phone from my view— holds it out in front of both our faces as he types out a quick message that says,

Me: no doubt mine'll be bigger -N

I swallow past the dryness in my mouth. What a brave guy to test my cousin like that. Travis enjoys a challenge. I'm lucky that I'm family because otherwise I'd have an unwanted dick pic floating in, I'm sure. Maybe these two should exchange phone numbers.

Travis hasn't messaged back, but North starts typing again.

Me: post our picture.

He doesn't send the message, just leaves it there for a second for me to see. Then he holds down the backspace button, deleting the message entirely.

I blink. Once, twice, a third time before I fully process his message.

"You want me to post our picture?" I ask him, making the mistake of turning my head to look at him. And he's close, too close— so close that even he finally backs away, keeping a safe but friendly distance between us. He nods his confirmation while simultaneously allowing me to take my first breath of air without shuddering since he first walked over here.

North nods again, shifting his weight into a more relaxed stance, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Dressed the same way he was at his concert. So Noah Sebastian-coded.

I nod back, wielding a mental knife that stabs and slices at the awkwardness I've caused. I can't stand myself— I shouldn't be like this. If anything, he should be. He's the one who called me his idol the other day.

Regardless of my current circumstances, I open up Instagram and post our picture, making sure to tag North and their band account. I don't bother putting a caption though. I don't have the brain power to come up with anything smart or witty. I don't have the brain power to come up with anything at all.

I post the photo then lock my phone with lightening speed and stuff it into my pocket. I don't want to be present when the comments and likes start to roll in, especially not in front of him.

My attention goes back to North who's still standing in front of me. He tilts his head down a bit, as if to show me he's pleased then takes a step forward. He moves fluidly, like a gentle wave in a calm ocean as his hand lifts and his fingers tap under my chin. It's a featherlight, minuscule touch that tilts my head up just a tad before he pulls his hand away again. A thank you, nice to see you, wish I didn't have to leave, and see you later. That's what that touch was. All in one.

He looks over my shoulder at Ash, offers her a wave, glances back at me then turns on his heel. And like he was never even here to begin with, his presence is gone-- disappeared behind a door labled 'Employees Only.' I feel like I went through something that dreamcatchers are supposed to keep at bay. The only remnants and confirmation that what I just lived through was real being the most recent photo in my camera roll, one that I don't have the balls to look at right now. 

And then my body betrays me. A fluttering deep in my soul makes me press a hand to my chest as if I'm trying to release trapped butterflies. Trying to scrounge up a lost breath, searching high and low for a medical explanation as to why my fingers tremble. Why my legs feel like jello. Why my stomach is twisted into knots that are too tight to unravel. Why my body feels so light, but my mental feels so drained. Why I feel drawn to chase that man behind the door while battling the internal faint feeling that has me swaying on my feet.

This feeling doesn't seem as terrible as it did when I felt it with Sal. The attraction. The tender affection that grips me in its ambrosia-drenched, quietly dangerous vices.

I stare at the empty spot where North stood just seconds ago. The spot that Neil suddenly fills up.

"Hey," he drawls in such a milky tone, pretty smile stealing my attention for just a moment. "You're Vi, right? I've heard a lot about you from Ash and Todd!" His umber skin, illuminated by the low lighting in the store, captures my gaze when just a singular bead of sweat drips down his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his shirt. 

I'll never say it out loud but, damn, is Todd a lucky man. I feel like I'm looking at a god of old age right now-- the type that's too perfect even for statues.

I suck in a breath and force another smile on my face. I'll worry about North later.

"Hey, Neil," I start cooly, offering the man my outstretched hand. "Yea, I am Vi but I'm also y/n-- not sure if everyone else told you yet. But, nice to see you again."

Neil's brows raise in surprise. "Ah, no, seems Todd left me out of the teacup this time." He chuckles lowly, showing off that handsome grin again. "I haven't seen you since grade school! How have you been?"

I shrug, smiling in turn. "Not really thriving, but surviving," I admit with a chirp, drowning in Ash's silence while Henry's chipper form grows closer to us.

Neil tilts his head and purses his lips as if to say that he relates. But when he speaks again, it's the last thing I expected to hear. 

"You know, I noticed you kept perfect beat with my drumming earlier. Do you play at all?"

My eyes widen a bit. I hadn't even realized he noticed me, nor did I realize that I was keeping beat with the song he and North played. A little breathless, I reply, "I've played for seven years. Haven't for the last year though because of my living situation, but..."

"Wow," he whispers, leaning closer to inquire in that smooth voice. "Seven years?" He puffs his cheeks, blowing out a breath. "That's... a while. Would you want to play?"

Where my chest felt filled to the brim mere moments ago, it suddenly feels achingly hollow. Play? Again? It's been over or near twelve full months since I so much as touched my drum kit that's been packed away in three separate boxes. I've ached to wrap my fingers around drumsticks again and get lost in the beat of a good song. 

But there's anxiety deep in my gut because it's been so long. I don't know if I can even still play anymore.

"I don't know," I tell him weakly, glancing over his shoulder at the immaculate drum kit. Set up and spotless, drumsticks resting on top of the snare. "I don't think I'd be any good. Not what I used to be."

Neil shakes his head exasperatedly. "Girl, you played for seven years. That isn't just a talent anymore, that's second nature. Drumming is breathing. You could lose both your hands and still find a way to play. Get get on that kit before I drag you there." His voice is aggressive, but in that loving, coddling type of way. Still aggressive enough to make me flinch into a quick walk toward that daunting drum kit in the middle of the room.

Ash, Neil, and Henry follow behind me as I round the kit and plop into the chair, staring down at the instrument that haunts me night and day. The one thing that kept me tethered to this world when nothing else could. Cymbals, toms, snare, bass. It's all here.

I chew on the inside of my cheek and delicately pick up the drumsticks, flipping one around in my left hand. The little trick I used to flaunt in high school. 

My eyes drag up to Ash who's watching me with stars in her eyes. She catches my gaze and clears her throat. "I didn't know you played," she rasps out.

"You know I like my secrets," I croon, tilting my head a bit. "Got a song request?"

"Well knowing you, it's all rock or metal," she snorts, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"You're correct," I snicker, waiting for a song name or band, something. I covered a lot of songs during my free time in high school. If Ash gives me the one hard song she knows, I'll probably be able to play it.

"Wherein Christine Daaé Becomes Her Own Phantom?" Ash asks, eyes narrowing as her face contorts into a nervous cringe. A Dark Autumn Complex song. Of course. One of their first from however long ago.

I giggle as confirmation, readying my sticks and giving myself a moment to think back on all the memories that Neil was right about. I've done this long enough. It is second nature and it always will be.

With the first hit of my drumstick, I fall into a bridge between dimensions. A bridge only available when I immerse myself, lose myself in the art that comes with music. Comes with creating and mimicking it. Time slips by on a breeze, slow but so death-defyingly fast. Quiet, but pounding in every inch of my being. 

And I only return to reality when I realize I'm nearing the end of the song, drawing off with a final note and staring at the echoing drums in front of me, my fingers numbing and sticks hot in my hands.

I missed this so much.

I don't have time to wonder how I did or feel stage fright because my lovely best friend takes that opportunity away.

Ash's loud, reverberating squeal drags my gaze up from the kit. My eyes meet her teary ones first. She looks so excited, hands curled underneath her chin as she grins brightly. Beside her though, the only really attention-grabbing figure is North who's resurfaced from his hiding place at the back of the store. But he just looks at me-- his dark eyes don't crinkle in a smile, he doesn't walk over to me or make a move at all. Just stands next to Henry who looks like he could cry with the kind of pride only a father can have. And Neil, he's at my side, I realize, when a warm hand clasps onto my shoulder.

I whip my head to him, gazing up at his much taller figure. "See?" he exclaims, gesturing to the drums. "I knew you had it in you. You need to get back on a kit and keep working. Don't give this up. You're really good." He gives me an encouraging smile that has my mind reeling with possibilities. 

That smile gives me hope. So I smile back at that hope.

As I'm standing to leave this gorgeous drum kit behind, I notice Ash angle a blinding glare at North beside her. The man doesn't acknowledge the expression, or her for that matter. When Ash looks back to me though, I wonder if I really did see a glare because she looks so happy, so filled with positivity. Maybe the look was in my head.

The woman comes bounding over to me, her dainty hand gently wrapping around my wrist. "Let's head home," she says, ditching her plan of letting me pick where to go next in the city. "I have to stop by the Nockfell Psychward first--"

"I'm sorry," I cut in, watching her warily. "The psychward? Nockfell has one of those?"

Ash waves me off. "Not an actual psychward, silly. That's just what we call our local grocery store. Filled with all kinds of people, customers and employees alike, who really need to be admitted." She looks off into the distance like she's reminiscing about something before her forest eyes clash with mine again. "Let's go!"

Ash begins dragging me out of the music store, the grip on my wrist going from gentle to dominating in a quick second. It makes me wonder what kind of rollercoaster her lovers must go through when it comes to her.

I turn a head over my shoulder, waving at Henry, Neil, and North who watch Ash kidnap me like this is a normal occurrence. All three wave back just as we disappear through the doors, but I watch North until he's nothing but a speck of dust hidden behind those tinted doors. Until we're already walking far enough down the road that I can see Nockfell's grocery store just a little ways away. Or, as Ash calls it, the Nockfell Psychward.

Ash and I are finished with our shopping trip within just ten minutes, the two of us holding three bags each on one arm and coveting hot coffee in our other free hand. 

Ash sips from her coffee, licking her lips clean of the brown liquid before she turns to me with something fiery flashing in her eyes. Our walk back to Sal, Larry, Todd, and Neil's place is just about five minutes as far as I've heard.

I match Ash's steps as she watches me, holds my gaze, starts brewing something in that beautiful, jewel-encrusted mind of hers. 

"Is there something going on that you haven't told me about?" She asks, an edge to her voice that makes my limbs lock up. I almost trip over my feet.

Does she know? About me and Sal? We've been careful, covered our tracks fairly well, as far as I'm aware. Maybe Sal's been talking? Maybe I'm overthinking? But for her to hit me with this kind of question...

"Uh, not that I'm aware of?" I force out through trembling lips, hoping that the veer-off from the truth is believable enough.

Ash's eyes narrow and I feel like I might dissipate into the afterlife right here on the side of the road.

"So North's infatuation with you is just... random." She states-- states, not asks-- and tilts her head forward like she can read the lies and truths swirling around in my head.

Oh, she's thinking that me and North have something going on.

I almost feel inclined to lead her in that direction-- to think that maybe North and I are involved so that it keeps her away from suspecting me and Sal. But I'm already hiding enough from her. Lying to her again, roping North into it... it feels unnecessary. Feels cruel.

"Yes," I say truthfully, taking a quick sip of my peppermint mocha. "I'm as confused and shocked as you are," I tell her, gesturing with my cup. "But I'm not opposed to it either."

It pains me to watch the grim expression that takes over Ash's face, the way she pinches her lips together like she knows she's going to disappoint me. 

"It's..." She trails off, looking up to the cloudy, grey sky as she tries to find the right words. "It's... odd. The whole thing is weird." She jerks her head to the side as if to take back what she said, but adds to the statement instead. "I know it's not my place to get involved, but it just doesn't sit right with me. It's so... just..."

"Wrong? Random? Unnecessary? Misplaced?" I fill in the blank for her, voicing my own thoughts on the matter. These words have been plaguing me regarding North's sudden focus on me. I'm nothing but the dirt beneath his feet-- so why is he into me at all?

"Well, now that you say it," Ash starts. "I can tell why he's interested. You're beautiful with a stunning and selfless personality to match. Literally, who wouldn't fall for you?"

I smile at my dear friend, red painting my cheeks from her words. I don't have a response, not when she's completely countered both our thought processes. 

"I'll just bully Sal about it since they're close," she quips, shrugging. "I've never seen North go for anyone but fuck buddies and I don't want that for you, so I'm gonna get the message to him in some way. I'll make sure he knows of my wrath."

We walk a little ways farther up the road, turning into Sal's driveway. I'm so immersed in what Ash has said that I nearly miss the very well cared for '67 Camaro parked beside the house. It's a little worse for wear, shows its age, but the black paint is fresh, glistening. It's clearly loved.

My guess is that it's Neil. He was the only one who wasn't at the house yesterday-- he probably beat Ash and I home. 

But I focus on Ash as we walk up the front steps to the house. "Just don't hurt his face," I joke to her, watching as she turns the doorknob, pushing it open with her hip. "I know he's pretty beneath that mask."

"How do you know that?" Ash snorts, setting her three bags on the table. I follow suit.

"All masked men are hot," I say, shrugging. "I know North is going to be beautiful the same way I knew Sal would be."

Ash snaps her head to look at me. The action is so quick that I wonder how she didn't snap her neck. "You think Sal is beautiful?" She asks, her words a grating, exasperated shrill.

I wince, watching her with furrowed brows. "I'm stating the obvious," I argue, holding my hands up in surrender. "I mean, come on, he's a handsome man with a pretty face."

I mean those words. I've meant them every time I've said this. Sal has such a nice face-- scars and all. 

Ash seems to contemplate, those viridian eyes roving over me the entire time. "Yea...true," she finally settles on, "Sal is pretty." But there's something in her gaze that says she's wary.

Movement seems to catch Ash's eye the moment she utters those words, because she snaps her head forward again. Her neck is really going to hurt later. But I follow her gaze, coming to the horrible realization that Sal is just... here. He's leaning against the edge of the kitchen table across from Ash and I, watching with those haunting sapphire eyes.

I don't have words. They've failed me. Someone needs to put me out of my misery.

"You," Ash practically growls, pointing a finger at Sal like it's a Sith Lord's lightsaber. Her voice is menacing, holding a fuck ton of hidden, murderous desires. "Put your friend on a fucking leash."

Her seething words make me take a step back. The sheer, bloodthirsty undertones take me back to the conversation we had on the way here. She told me she'd bully Sal about North, but maybe she only put up that front to keep me off her tail. So I wouldn't freak out or tell her to leave things be. Because the way she's stomping over to Sal right now, getting in his face with a nasty scowl taking over her features, says that maybe she really is angry and put-off by this whole thing with North.

Sal looks down at her, prosthetic face perfectly masking his emotions like it always does. His eyes do a great job of holding up that nonchalant expression as he carefully says, "If my friend did it and I didn't, then there's no reason for you to come at me like this." Those words are meticulous. No yelling. No anger. Just... words. But that alone seems terrifying, especially when he adds, "Back off."

Ash concedes to his request, taking a singular step back to put some space between them. My body grows warm beneath the tension, the pressure of watching these two stare at each other-- one hot-headed and ready to knock the shorter one down, and the other the complete epitome of calm aggression with no fear in his stance.

"I'm serious, Sal," Ash warns. I've never heard her so grave before. "He's playing with fire and if he adds anymore fuel, the results won't be pretty. Talk to North. You need to talk to him." She takes a deep breath, harsh voice softening a bit. "And you tell him that I said he needs to figure his shit out and leave y/n alone. Because I know him. And I know that he's going to play her like a fucking fiddle if he isn't threatened."

Oh. So when she said that North only had fuck buddies, she meant that she doesn't trust him with me. Even if she doesn't realize that I'm in some kind of shituationship with the man right in front of her-- fuck buddies-- whichever it is. She's just looking out for me, obviously, but that assertive stance she's taken against it... I can't help but feel like letting her dig a hole for this blooming thing between North and I is the best decision.

Sal doesn't reply to her. But he does stand a bit straighter, puts his hands into the pockets of his sweats. And then his head turns to me. 

A dark ocean of endless blue meets my gaze as he asks in a low, authoritative tone, "What did he say to you?"

The question catches me off guard. The way he articulated the words, the tone he used. All suggesting someone playing a protective role. It sends that fluttering feeling through me again.

My mouth goes dry as I battle my own mind, fighting for the right thing to say. But I don't know what to say. Between Sal making me feel things I shouldn't and North leading me into a corner, I'm stuck.

I subconsciously shake my head, mouth gaping like a fish as my heart pounds wildly in my chest, my body still warm with anxiety. "It's-- He--" I falter, swallowing thickly before I try again. "It's nothing bad, per se." I shrug shakily as Ash turns her head to assess me too. "Some flirting online, and-- and we took a picture today. He grabbed my chin. That's about it. It's really... not a big deal."

"Wait, he's been flirting with you online?" Ash asks, emerald irises zeroing in on me just as her voice grows harsh yet again. Even Sal tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

Ash walks over to me and I already know what she's silently asking for. Proof.

It may not be a big deal to me, but if Sal is actively getting involved... maybe it's bigger than I think.

So I pull my phone out of my back pocket to show her our interaction from a couple days ago. But it turns out I don't need to.

The very first notification on my phone, among a few others, is from North. A comment under the picture I'd posted of us.

dacnorthxx: pretty girl <3

My lips part in surprise at the same moment Ash lets out a grumble of frustration behind me. 

And Ash, ever the leader and queen that she is, leaves my side and walks up to Sal again. She puts a predatory hand on his arm, fingers gripping his clothed skin. 

"Handle it," she seethes from behind clenched teeth. "Or I will."

---------

A/N:::::::: hi my sweet babies :3 I'M SORRY IT'S BEEN SO LONGGGG and i hope this chapter is okay too! i've been daydreaming about it tbh, i LOVE it but i always feel like i can never fully portray my thoughts with words sooooo

so-- a couple things before i leave you guys for the night: 1.) spring break was not very restful for me so i've secluded myself to self-isolation. it's been really hard for me to even message family back. between forced proximity with the man who assaulted me and never getting a moment to rest, i've just been to myself. i apologize for that because i know many of you have been messaging me and commenting. i'll be getting back with everyone as soon as i remember that i'm in charge of my life, i pinky promise! thank you for sticking around <3 2.) i've been trying to follow you guys' recommendations! i appreciate seeing the tips you guys have for me because it prepares me for the future and helps to improve my writing. thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the help! that being said, one of the things i'm trying to do is limit the amount of detail i put into certain things. too much detail gets boring, so i'm trying to drive away from that. because of this, i feel like the chapter might be lacking. so, to further my own progress, please let me know how you liked the chapter AND tell me something i can do better!! thank you >.<

anyway, i've been fucking FLYING through the ACOTAR series lately. i'm on the second to last book and close to sobbing over it :,) but it has kept me very sane these days so definitely go give miss Sarah J. Maas a shot if you haven't yet!!

i feel like there's more i want to say but i can't remember??? i'll just put it in the comments if i do remember~ ANYWAY!!! thank you all for the support, the love, and your presence. i love you all so infinitesimally much and i am eternally grateful for you. have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night! MWAH <3333

[halfagonyandhope]

ignite the stars │ch. 5

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

“So, Satine, how does a woman like you end up in a field like this?”

Satine, Ben, Ventress, and Quinlan Vos are at a small bar a few blocks away from campus. This particular bar is, apparently, their go-to - on account of the drinks being a couple dollars more expensive than the bars that surround it, thereby keeping the undergrads and grad students from passing over its threshold. And indeed, the patrons are mostly postdocs or early career professors, making the atmosphere feel more akin to a coffee shop than a typical university bar.

Vos smiles over his drink. With his broad shoulders and towering nearly six and a half foot frame, he’s the most physically imposing person Satine has ever met, but she suspects his question was designed to be lighthearted. The answer is anything but, and she feels Ben’s thigh tense next to her in the booth.

Satine gives a short, rehearsed answer. “I was born in Srebrenica in 1988. My mother and I sought asylum in Norway in July 1995.”

Vos inhales sharply.

“Fuck,” says Ventress, and more emotion passes her face in that moment than Satine has seen in the entire preceding week.

Satine nods. “The only appropriate response,” she says to Ventress.

Ben, of course, already knows Satine’s history, so Satine is not surprised when his fingers brush against hers underneath the table to send her silent support. Instead of letting him retreat, she twines her fingers with his, and she feels him relax, resting their joined hands against the outside of his thigh.

Vos, looking apologetic, tries to steer the conversation toward less horrific subjects. “Asajj tells me you and Kenobi go way back,” he says as Ventress swirls her mix drink around in its glass.

Ben’s eyes are simultaneously exasperated and shooting daggers. “I never did enjoy hanging out with you,” he says to Vos.

Vos just grins.

But Satine would rather talk about Ben than what happened in Srebrenica any day. “After my mother passed away,” she says, “I was adopted by a wealthy Norwegian couple. They recognized my academic ambition and encouraged me to apply to Andover for high school. Ben and I were in the same graduating class.”

“Kenobi does give off elite prep school vibes,” Ventress says, cackling. “I should have figured.”

Satine laughs, a deep and genuine laugh. “It’s the posh accent,” she agrees, squeezing Ben’s hand so he knows she is joking. He squeezes back, eyes still deliberately facing forward at Vos and Ventress.

“That accent does him no favors, you know,” says Vos. “He’s had at least one female admirer ask him out while she was getting help on an assignment.”

“I believe there were two admirers,” corrects Ventress. “My office is on the other side of his, and last year I heard him politely turning down a young man. I hope you reported him to the department, Kenobi. The way he haunted your office hours was a bit much.”

“Thank you, Ventress, for your concern,” says Ben, as Satine’s eyes go wide. “And, yes, he was reassigned to a section with a different lecturer. I think Windu was a better fit for his learning style, anyway.”

Vos nearly spits out his beer.

Satine rubs her thumb over Ben’s knuckle. “I’ve never had to deal with students, thank god,” she admits. “Even as a postdoc, they recognized I did not have the patience to handle them. Somehow, my funding always seemed to be covered fully by research rather than teaching.”

The others laugh at this, and it feels good - normal - to be able to speak plainly about academia so openly. She is not made to be a teacher, even if her calling is academia. And finally, here are three others who understand.

“But Ben tells me you two eloped and then went up for the same job?” Satine asks. “There has to be a good story there.”

Ventress’ eyes sparkle, and she gestures at Vos. “You tell it better,” she says to him.

He grins. “This was about - what? Three years ago? At any rate, Kenobi here had just introduced us. By the end of that conversation - ”

“During which I was completely forgotten,” interjects Ben, “so rather than third-wheeling it, I just saw myself out.”

Satine snickers as Vos continues. “By the end of the conversation, Asajj and I were exclusive. Six weeks later, we both knew this was it, so we booked a flight to Samoa so my family could be witnesses.” He tosses an arm around Ventress’ shoulders. “And the rest, shall we say, is history.”

Ventress purses her lips. “We almost were history for a moment - we had a rather vicious fight over the honeymoon when we heard about the tenure track position that opened up in the department.”

Satine tilts her head. “Over who would apply?”

Ventress smiles. “In a sense. I wanted only him to apply, and he wanted only me to.”

Satine grins at this. “Now that is love.”

Ventress leans forward slightly. “We knew one of us would get it. We just didn’t know which one. So we compromised. It worked out better than we anticipated.”

“Understatement of the century,” says Ben, taking another sip of his cider. 

“I guess they were worried that if they offered just the one spot, we’d pack up and leave once the pair of us found a dual hire option someplace else,” supplies Vos. “To be fair, it was a reason to be worried. We would have moved practically anywhere that offered us both tenure track positions.”

Satine leans back in the booth, grateful for the warmth of Ben’s shoulder against her own. “Well, I for one am pleased that an academic department made a wise choice. For once.” She smiles wryly. “Is such competence typical for our department?”

Ben shakes his head, chuckling. “They’ve made exactly one other good decision, and it was to fund the research fellowship that brought you here. But even that decision is debatable - because I’ve heard it’s only a one year fellowship with no chance of renewal? They’d be foolish to let you go.”

Satine can’t help the blush that spreads across her face, her chest. Her heart feels like it’s practically glowing.

“As much as I hate to agree with Kenobi,” says Ventress, “he’s right. They’re really planning on letting you just move on after the fellowship is complete?”

“To be honest,” Satine says, “I haven’t allowed myself to think that far ahead yet. Leaving State was…an ordeal. I’m just pleased to not have to worry about a retaliatory firing.”

Ventress moves forward again. “Now, that sounds like a story.”

Satine sighs. “It is,” she acknowledges. “But one that I can’t say much about for legal reasons. However, I’m sure anything you can speculate would be pretty close to the truth.”

Ben pulls her hand to his lap and covers it with his other hand briefly before pulling that hand back above the table, careful not to give away too much. “As I’m sure you know, there are legal protections in place for whistleblowers,” he says.

Satine holds his gaze. “I’d need a lot more than legal protection to be compelled to speak about what happened,” says Satine softly.

If it’s possible to see someone’s heart break in real time, Satine witnesses it in Ben’s eyes. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

Ventress’ expression turns dark. “If it is that serious, all the more reason not to talk about it in a public bar,” she warns, and Ben nods.

“Of course. Forgive me.”

Ventress nudges Vos, and Vos stands. “Pool?” he says to Ben, and Ben squeezes Satine’s fingers one last time before sliding out of the booth to follow Vos. 

Ventress leans over to Satine. “This is the last I’ll say on it, but…” She trails off, looking around to make sure no one is listening in on their conversation. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

Satine doesn’t know Ventress’ history, but she does know that she wants Ventress on her side. She smiles softly. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

Ventress swirls her drink again before taking a sip. “And speaking of things I can do for you…I was sleeping with Kenobi for over a year, and never once did he look at me the way he looks at you. That man is besotted.”

Satine’s eyes flash to Ben, leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot. 

“It’s not that the feeling isn’t mutual,” she hedges. “There’s just a lot of history there, and a lot of complication.”

Ventress grins. “Complication is what makes it fun.”

---

The foursome eventually part ways just outside the bar, with Vos and Ventress catching a Georgetown University shuttle to the Dupont Circle Metro entrance. Ben watches Ventress lean into Vos, Vos’ arm around her shoulders, with a faraway look on his face. Then he turns to Satine.

“Which way is your bus stop?” he asks.

“I was going to walk home,” Satine says. “It’s just over a mile from here, so not too bad.”

Ben’s eyes surveil the dark and shadows, and Satine knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Let me walk you there.”

She’s already protesting before he finishes the sentence. “That’s hardly necessary - ” she begins, but he cuts her off.

“Humor me,” he says. “Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

She glares at him. “That’s cheating.”

“I never claimed to play fair.”

He offers her his elbow, and she loops her arm around his.

“On the contrary,” she says as they begin to walk in the direction of her condo. “You are the straightest arrow I’ve ever encountered.”

Ben hums. “Must be something about you that makes me forget the rules, then.”

Satine looks over at him. “Did Ventress have the same effect on you, I wonder?” she asks softly. There’s no jealousy in her tone, merely curiosity, and it surprises even her.

Ben takes a second to answer, weighing his words. “I wanted her to,” he eventually admits. “I dove into her wanting to fall in love. She helped me realize I was really using her to try to fall out of love.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Remarkable woman, and she deserved better. I’m glad she has it now. I’m very grateful she doesn’t hold it against me. Much.”

As Satine ponders this, Ben continues.

“But what about you? I can’t imagine you’ve been single all this time.”

They cross the street, arms still tangled together, legs mirroring each other’s cadence. “That would depend on your definition of the word single,” says Satine. “I don’t really date, not in the traditional sense of the word. I find most people incapable of being able to hold an intelligent conversation. And those who can tend to be - there’s no way to say this kindly - lacking adequate knowledge of female anatomy.”

Ben throws his head back in laughter. “So you’re saying the Venn diagram of people who capture your intellectual interest and who can get you off are two separate circles.”

“Not entirely. There was one suitor. It was a long time ago, so I can hardly recall details. But he had a charmingly adorable, horrendous haircut. And he was terribly eager to please. He might have been inexperienced, but that eagerness made for great sex.”

Ben waits to answer as they pass a group of bar-hoppers. When they’re out of earshot, he says, “Sounds promising. I bet he’s gained experience since then. Perhaps he could even teach you a thing or two, these days.”

They pass underneath a streetlight, and Satine turns to him. “I don’t even know if he’s still interested, yet alone emotionally available. It’s…been many years, as I said.”

Ben turns his head so that his lips nearly touch her ear. “I’d wager a bet that he’s still very interested. Single, too. But if you’re looking for emotional availability,” he adds, pulling away slightly and holding her gaze, “I’m not sure your suitor would meet that prerequisite.”

Satine stops, pulling Ben around to face her. “You know how some job postings note that they’re willing to consider applicants who don’t necessarily meet all of the qualifications?”

Ben nods, brow furrowed.

“If I could, I’d like to tell that boy - to tell the man he’s become - that you don’t need to meet or exceed all the prerequisites to apply.” She bites her lip, wondering if she’s been too bold. “He would likely find I’m not as emotionally available as I’d like to be, either. But maybe it’s something he and I could work on together.”

His eyes widen, and he swallows nervously. Then he nods.

As he begins to step forward, Satine pulls him back. “Ben,” she says. “I’m only a few more blocks up the road. I’ll see myself the rest of the way.”

“If it’s just a few more blocks, it’s really no trouble - ”

“You misunderstand,” says Satine. “The trouble would be that once we arrive, I’d inevitably invite you inside. And I want us both to think about this before we make any rash decisions.”

His pupils dilate. Then his expression softens. “Any decision involving you would never be rash,” he says. “Or regretted. But I’ll honor your request, Madam Secretary.”

She pulls her arm from his, but before she pulls away completely, she’s overcome by impulse, and she throws her arms around his shoulders. He tenses, but she says, “Humor me. Or, at least, humor the eighteen-year-old version of me.”

And he relaxes against her, his arms looping around her waist.

Satine breathes him in and fights the tears she knows are coming. “I missed you, Ben. So very much.”

His arms tighten around her. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he murmurs.

She pulls back slightly, and his hands fall to her hips. Her breath fogs the air between them, and she can literally see him inhale the molecules she’d just breathed out.

“I should go,” she says, one hand raising of its own accord to cradle his jaw, the wiry hair of his beard unfamiliar and new to her. She smirks. “I think I’ve decided I like the beard,” she says. “It may hide a bit too much of your handsome face, but somehow it still suits you.”

And before she loses her nerve, she turns on her heel, leaving him behind.

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XIV.

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Author's note: I'm on a field trip rn but the fic won't wait :] xoxo

Thirteenth chapter

Masterlist

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First you tried helping with food preparation. A girl, who's name you didn't remember, was chopping up something and you tried to spark a conversation and offer to help, and she let you for a while. The conversation wasn't all that bad eighte, but you seemed to be a lost cause in almost everything you put your hands on there. The third time you cut yourself the girl told you that maybe this wasn't the right thing for you. And you agreed. So you said your goodbye and went to look further for something to do.

In the end, you ended up surrounded by four little kids, one of them was Scar's, one of them was sitting on your shoulders, the other two were blabbing on about something. Then, the one sitting on your shoulders clasped his hands.

"Look!"

He stretched a closed hand to your face and opened it. A little green bud flew out of it. You've seen them around. Ekko called them firelights, so you presume that he named the operation after them. But you haven't seem them from this up close, and they were kinda cute.

You ended up letting the kids try to teach you to use a hoverboard, but you felt sceptical, if the leader couldn't teach you how to do so, could these little kids? However, as you listened to them talk over each other and give you various tips, you actually felt a little more confident and when you tried to move the board, it finally did what you wanted it to!

"Look! I'm doing it!"

The kids looked so invested in your progress and their faces lit up when they saw you moving slowly.

When Ekko returned, he was wearing a mask and that huge coat of his, other members were with him, and Scar and someone who you didn't know the name of were carrying bodies, you caught a glimpse of a familiar pink, but ultimately, you had a better thing to do. You turned back to the kids, speeding up a little. I mean, who'd want to lose a game of tag to a few little kiddos. You made a sharp turn, and tapped Scar's child on the head. She groaned and turned her board towards one of the other kids.

You were actually having fun, but before you could turn to join the chase, a voice called you to the ground. You reluctantly flew down, stopping the board, and carefully placing it on the ground.

"I see you found someone better to train you."

Ekko was maskless and coatless now, wearing a white tanktop and a orange scarf.

"I did actually."

He raised his eyebrows at you, arm folded, amd tilted his head back a little.

"That so?"

"I mean,"

You shrugged and made a face before continuing.

"I can use the boards how, even if only a little."

"I thought you enjoyed our flight."

Ekko's face displayed a slight smile.

"Enjoyed?"

Your face on the other hand, wide eyes and a bewildered expression.

"I was scared shitless."

Ekko faked a frown.

"C'mon, it wasn't all that bad."

"Uh, excuse me? I think we both remember things a bit differently."

"Please, you'll come crawling back, begging me to train you again."

"Pfft, sure, just leave some room for us with your massive ego."

He shook his and chuckled a little, but then his face turned more serious and he gave you a honest look.

"Can we talk? In private? I wanna tell you something."

You looked around confused.

"Me? Why me?"

"'Cause I wanna."

"I mean, uh, sure? I don't think the kids'll miss me that much."

You shrugged and he nodded, then he started your hoverboard motioning for you to jump up. You did so, knowing what's gonna happen next.

"How 'bout you fly us this time, since you had such agreat lesson."

"Sure, but if we fall, it's on you."

"I think I can live with that."

He slipped in front of you again, grabbing your waist and putting his feet next to yours. You didn't know if if was normal for the Firelights to fly around in pairs, but he seemed so nonchalant that it made you think so. You were carefully watching your feet again, before speaking up.

"Where to?"

"My room, to keep the score even."

You nodded and started controlling the device, making it go up. You still felt nervous about heights on the machines, but it wasn't so bad now.