#the side spines would correlate in numbers

[absintheandjupiter]

Ok ok what if a trifecta zine of Hannigram, Roardogs, and Spacedogs. It's like a collectible box set of the top pairs and it would look super cute but each having an underlying theme or it could be straight art, maybe even comica

#just salivating and thinking about the designnnnnn #the side spines would correlate in numbers #ooooh what if its a gradient color for the side spines and colored edges for the front #thoughts #hannigram #spacedogs #roardogs

[hisui555]

Hazbin Hotel thoughts : Foils 8

Masterpost here

Now @phoenixlionme had another very interesting idea, so again, credit to them for this post about Vaggie VS Velvette. Without transition, let's jump to it.

While they're unconnected and haven't interacted together outside of fanart, both have, indeed, quite the number of common points : they're both the most sane one (well, at least for what was shown up to now) of their group, keeping their focus on their task while Charlie goes singing in the streets without warning and the Hotel residents have their antics, or the "Voys" as Velvette calls them get themselves tangled in their respective fixations and are too busy shooting themselves in the foot. Both are also the respective "backbone" of their group - Velvette outright calls herself as such, and she's not really wrong : while Vox is the face and front, also occasional brains and providing the medium, Val the muscle and providing the content, Velvette provides the notoriety and influence, making sure they are known and in a positive light. She's also the second half of the brains, and the spine.

Vaggie on her side is Charlie's most stable support (and the only one before Lucifer or even Alastor arrived, and Alastor's support comes with strings attached), and the Hotel's manager. She's also the hidden ace in the hole (contrary to Alastor's most obvious one, in all senses of the term regarding him - pun unintended) as the Hotel's protector and secretely Fallen angel, making her also the "spine" of the Hotel and keeping Charlie on track : without her, Charlie's project would have crumbled. Unlike Velvette, though, she's perfectly happy with staying in the shadows, but still at Charlie's side, and is seen along with her instead of in a separate setting : she shares a room with Charlie, while Velvette has her own floor she works on. Vaggie's activities correlate with Charlie's, but she's still her own individual, while Velvette is individualistic enough, but belongs to the Vees group and is counted as one of three Overlords.

They both have short patience (and a short-ish fuse) with their coworkers, being both the ones with their heads on their shoulders : Velvette has to call Vox up when Valentino loses it and starts butchering her employees, and is very much signalling that she's not dealing with that bullshit. Vaggie has to put up with the Hotel's residents, who, bar Husk (and even then, his lethargic alcoholism counts), also are quite the wacky bunch. Funnily enough, Ep 3 both focuses on Vaggie's attempts at manning the trust exercise, and Velvette's entrance at the Overlord meeting, putting them kind of back-to-back. While Velvette has beef with Carmilla, it mirrors both her and Vaggie's way of doing things : they both push people to their limits, drilling them on to a desired result with an imposing personality to match, but on complete opposite ways - Vaggie goes drill sergeant with the goal to build up trust and have people behave themselves into taking things seriously to both help Charlie and the residents of the Hotel, Velvette corners Carmilla to rip information out of her and try to divide to conquer, brazenly boasting a plan and insulting everyone in the room while she's at it.

Vaggie pushes people to do their best to unite them, Velvette tries to drive them apart with her tactics to take advantage. They both prove successful in their respective field : Vaggie's exercise ends up working, bringing the Hotel's residents together and sparking genuine friendship between them (bar Alastor, but he didn't participated anyway), Velvette's tactic gets her valuable information (the fact that Carmilla, a demon, killed the angel, proving demons can uprise against them) - contrasting to Charlie's methods failing (as seen with her breaking down in Ep 5) and Val and Vox immediately getting their own plans canned due to their impulsiveness. Both of them aren't the leaders of their groups (who are Charlie and Vox) yet prove to be the most competent when in charge.

Amusingly, as Phoenixlionme also pointed out, they are the shortest (bar Niffty for Vaggie), and the "youngest arrival in Hell" of their group, potentially : Vaggie was in Hell for 3 years while the others where there for at least 50 years or so (Alastor died in 1933, Angel in 1947, Niffty in the 50s, Husk in the 70s), Velvette is the youngest of the Vees and the most recent Overlord (Vox died in the 50s, Val in the 70s, and while Velvette's date of death is unknown, given her focus on social media, it can't be before the 90s or new 2000's at the very least). Angel has parallels to Valentino and Alastor to Vox, both enemies/rivals of them, Velvette has them with Vaggie on top of having beef with Carmilla, who they end up both connected to : Vaggie wins Carmilla's respect and ends up being mentored by her, approaching her with a genuine ask for help, and understanding Carmilla's motives of wanting to protect her loved ones - a point that connects both (see Out For Love). Velvette's rudeness leads her to be very insolent towards Carmilla in a calculated ploy to rile her up and get info out of it (ironically, also as Phoenixlionme said, Velvette found the dead Exorcist's head, Vaggie is an ex-Exorcist - which Carmilla immediately pointed out, and has no animosity towards Vaggie at all), arrogantly trying to prove herself superior to Carmilla.

A fact that also slipped under my nose but that Phoenixlionme rightfully brought to light is that Vaggie, as the manager, manned the Instagram account (before they were archived) for the Hotel, and in Ep 1 tries to make a commercial for it, while Velvette is obviously connected to social media (funny point : I don't think we've seen Vaggie's phone yet...? Unless I missed something) as its namesake Overlord. They also both opposite trends in fashion : Vaggie keeps it simple, and has changed the least from her pilot appearance, while Velvette has changed the most, and, as a fashionista, is seen with a different outfit and hairstyle each time she appears. They also treat people differently : Vaggie ends up condeeding points and warming up to everyone, accepting them as they are (most glaring example : Sir Pentious and the Egg Bois) as long as it's not dangerous, Velvette is - everyone together now - respectless.

I agree with Phoenixlionme that the Vees will be major antagonists for the Hotel later, plus the Exorcists, but while Angel has to get closure about Valentino and Alastor might get set up against Vox, it is fairly possible that Lute will be actually Charlie's enemy, replacing Adam, (and if Lilith is an antagonist, she'll probably be Lucifer's) while Velvette could potentially be Vaggie's : they both are the hypercompetent friend of their respective groups, the ones with their head on their shoulders keeping the leash on the others so that the chaos doesn't unravel in even worse chaos - the stable pillar at the side of the leader(s) providing vital support. Although, Velvette has her own thing and industry field while Vaggie follows Charlie's idea, but with her own, personal way of doing them : being firm and stern when needed, where Charlie is the gentle guiding hand.

Can't wait for Season 2, honestly. Again, kudos to Phoenixlionme for the request, I'm really glad you submitted it - hadn't thought about that one !

See y'all for the potential next.

Again, Masterpost here.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel thoughts #Hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin velvette

[darkened-writer]

Rosemary | Robin Buckley x Reader

Request ||  Robin x short! or feminine! reader please? Love your writing ❤️

Pairings || Robin Buckley x Reader

Warnings || None!

Word Count || 375

A/N || Request from @stardustbokkie !! Hope you enjoy this small drabble !! <33

Steve Harrington was not one to pry about his friends’ romantic relationships, his own being non-existent, however, when it came to Robin Buckley, he felt like he NEEDED to be a wingman. 

Poor girl was painfully single (to his knowledge) and needed a boob-loving woman to cuddle up too, and he made it his own personal mission to find her soulmate. However, Robin could care less about his endeavors, her mind only focused on her lovely, lovely girlfriend.

Albeit small and feminine, Robin had learned to love and love herself while in this relationship, and she hoped to one day (Later on in time due to current laws) pop the question.

“I swear to you, according to the movies a girl rents, she is totally a boob-lover!”

The two were stood side-by-side, Robin moreover leaning against the front desk, Steve spouting non-sense about movie choices and sexuality correlation. However, the scent of rosemary wafted to her nose and consumed her senses, but what shocked the girl most is when her girlfriend walked in, her eyes widening.

“See! Watch, that girl there is definitely Lesbian..-”

Watching Y/N carefully, Robin swallowed the spit in her mouth nervously, fingers now playing with the hem of her Family Video vest. What was she doing here? She knew that she hadn’t told Steve about the two of them. That she was even in a relationship in the first place.

“Will this be all?” Steve greeted Y/N at the cash register, giving Robin a thumbs-up from under the desk.

“Yes… Thank you so much!” The dazzling earrings and skirt that hugged Y/N’s body had Robin a bit hot under the collar, was she purposely toying with her?

“And, say… my friend here, would you give her your number…?” Y/N’s gaze moved to Robin. A smile arising on her face before she walked back up to the counter, got on her tippy-toes, and pulled Robin in by the collar in a searing kiss, sending a spine chill up Robin’s spine.

“She already does…”

The girl walked out of the store, movies in her arms and a smile on her face, leaving Robin with a red face and a VERY shocked Steve Harrington.

“YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

#xreader #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley

[damn-stark]

Telepathy and Telekinesis

Diego Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Requested by @rachelcarrol1819 “Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is number 8 and has the power over telpathy and telenkies and ends up in a relationship with Diego please and thank you”

Warning-violence, swearing, sort of long.

Episode- 2x10

————

“No, Diego’s mind is like,” you pause and pretend to be in deep thought, tapping your chin with your finger before extending your hand out and leaving your palm open as you used your power to snatch the bag of chips from Klaus’s hand and welcome it to your hand with a smile that slowly turned into a grin as you continued teasing Diego. “It’s like those big boards the police use to map out their evidence and information.”

‘Evidence board’ Diego corrected you inside his head.

“Exactly.” You blurt out, “an evidence board!”

Diego’s head snapped your direction to shoot you a burning glare. “Hey! I said out of my head!”

You shrug, “sorry.”

Klaus snickered and a confident smile grew on his lips, “you could never get into my mind—”

You snort, “actually yeah I can, you know that already, yours is the easiest one. Your thoughts are loud and all over the place.” Klaus lets out a small huff before he snatches his chips back from your hand; “The only person's mind I can’t read anymore is five’s.” You lean forward and rest your arms on the back of his seat while your chin rests on your hands. “Indulge us for a moment, no?”

At your suggestion the rest of your siblings inside the car turn their attention to Five and you, watching curiously and with an amused look decorated on their features.

Five on the other hand just looks forward and doesn’t bother to look back to answer bluntly, “no.”

You smirk and lift your head from its resting position so you could move one of your hands towards his head to make it easier that way, but he catches on to what you were trying to do without a single look and swats your hand away. “I’ve spent years building my own immunity to keep you away,” he pauses for a couple seconds and you could practically hear his smirk, “you could never get into my head.”

‘Maybe not when he’s sober.’ Diego thought, this time in a loud manner where he knew you had caught his secret comment. Even though it contradicted his previous complaint—he only hated it when you got into his mind without him knowing or at all actually. It wasn’t like before when he used to stutter where he would prefer using your telepathy to talk; he would let you read his thoughts and would let you share your own in his mind.

Now it was rare the time where he would let you know what he was thinking, and usually when he did it was to share small comments like those. It made you happy when he did because it gave you assurance that he and you still shared that same bond that you didn’t have with the others

You smirk and lean back in your seat, suppressing a laugh before sharing your thought response to Diego, ‘exactly. How much do you think it would take to get him drunk?’

‘Have you seen his little body? Not a lot.’

This time you’re more unsuccessful at keeping your laugh a secret and let it slip, receiving odd looks from the siblings around you, something you now knew how to ignore, just like the very general thoughts that came with a look as quizcall as the one they shot you now. Just like how you knew how to block out everyone’s thoughts, it had taken years, but it was something very appreciated since there weren't constant loud thoughts swirling around you anymore. It was irritating to say the least.

Now using your telepathy was a choice. Not like riding in this car with all seven of the other Hargreeves. They all may get annoying at times, but sticking by their side when one of them needed it was never choice. Especially not when it came to Diego.

“Is it just me or did it just get cold all of a sudden.” Klaus complained.

You shrug and are about to turn down his comment, but the sudden cold wave then hits you too, causing chills to crawl up your spine—“no not just you.” You shiver and see the puff of air come out of your mouth as you talk.

“Is that,” Vanya speaks up, leaning in her seat to get a better view out the windshield, “a snowstorm?” She pressed on the gas pedal further down to speed up the car, turning into a driveway of a farmhouse where the big grey cloud storm was raging over.

Vanya stopped the car and everybody began to get out, the attention all on the snow falling and the cloud above, causing Diego to to question it first before anyone else could. “You think whatever’s going on inside is causing the cold front?”

You shut the door behind you and narrow your gaze on the lightning storming from the same cloud, “well the correlation is high.”

Shortly after the door sounds from the barn and a blond woman walks out making Vanya slam her car door and rush to her as she shouted her name? “Sissy! Sissy!”

The woman’s energy however doesn’t match Vanyas as...Sissy pulls out a shotgun and points it at all of you. “Get back! All of you, just get the hall back!”

“Sissy!”

You freeze in your spot next to Diego and shoot Sissy and her shotgun a pointed gaze. So much for coming to help her out.

Vanya ran up in front of you all of you and began to try and reassure the women, throwing her hand out to stop her. “Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?”

“Carl.” She deadpans, her eyes bouncing from you and the rest of your group.

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest, sharing your thoughts to Diego’s mind, ‘we don’t have time for this, we need to stop what the kid is causing before it ends badly.’

He doesn’t respond to you but he does step and say your thought out loud, “y/n is right, we don’t have time for this Vanya.”

The woman suddenly points the gun at Diego as he moves, “where do you think you’re going?”

Diego puts his hand out to try and reassure her and stop her from shooting the gun, making your eyes intent on the woman and step up with your hand on the ready. “To help your son.”

Vanya keeps trying to assure Sissy and you feel Luther's hand on your shoulder, knowing your intentions before you could even try them. You meet his gaze over your shoulder and hesitate on listening doing so only as the woman begins to lower her gun.

Sissy questions, “Were you lying to me this whole time?”

Vanya shakes her head and tries to get closer, “Of course not. Look I didn’t know who I was, but I do now. And we are not the monsters they say we are. We didn’t kill the president. We are not terrorists. We’re not here to hurt anyone.”

Sissy pants softly, “then...who are you?”

“The only one who can help Harlan.”

Well that’s putting it short.

Sissy hesitates but ultimately tells all you to follow her inside the Barn with Vanya quick to rush inside and help the family she had supposedly been living with since Five’s failed time travel. Immediately coming to see the cause of the storm. A little boy, with this energy field flying around him that caused a wind storm on the inside. Looking almost as Vanya had when she used her powers to accidentally destroy the world; only the kid didn’t turn white or have control, he floated in the air and his body shook as if he were having a seizure, right away without having to use your powers you knew he was scared out of his mind. Like all of you were when you were his age.

“Harlan, it’s Vanya! Look, Harlan, I know you’re really scared, but I can help you. I need you to listen to me, okay? Can you do that?” Vanya then turned to you, “can you calm him down? Talk to him with your powers?”

Your eyes flicker to the boy and then to Vanya, shooting her an apologetic look, “I can try, but he doesn’t know me, I’ll only scare him more, but you can, I know so.”

Vanya let’s out a shaky exhale and nods, “yeah, okay.” Her eyes then turn white and she takes a step inside the field surrounding the boy, letting the rest of you stand back and watch as she tries to assure the boy, only seconds passing before Klaus begins to call out your attention. “Uh, guys?!”

Your head snaps to Klaus and you like the rest of your siblings join him by the window to see two figures standing very menacingly in the distance. Your gaze narrows and you breath out, “who are they?”

“Ones the handler, the others Diego’s girlfriend.”

Your nose scrunches and you instantly look over your shoulder to Diego, your question coming out unnecessarily sharp “what?”

He meets your gaze and quickly corrects Five, “Lila. That’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“You know what? Doesn’t matter. They both look angry.” Luther points out.

Five agrees, “yeah.”

“Our brother has the effect on people.” Allison remarks.

“I’m gonna go find what they want. You guys stay with Vanya and the kid.”

Diego is quick to interject, “yeah, I’m going too.”

And just like that, Allison, Klaus, Luther and you are left behind. Not really doing as Five suggested, but instead walking out minutes after and stopping not even halfway.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Allison wondered.

You shrug, “I don’t know.”

“Which one's the girlfriend?” Luther asks, again making your eyebrows furrow and your nose scrunch, an anger beginning to burn inside you at the slightest mention, leaving Luther's question unanswered and glaring at the group in the distance until your jaw dropped as hundreds of other people began to appear from out of nowhere and join the field.

You sigh, “holy shit.” You take one step forward to get ready to fight, but then the lady with the weird big hat pulls out something red you couldn’t quite make out, but you could find meaning from here—shit...without having to look at those beside you, you're quick to warn them. ‘Run!’—not even a second later shouting is heard and shooting is soon to follow. You could try and stop them, give your siblings beside you time to really hide, but there were too many and all too fast, the second you’ try to stop and try to stop the bullets you’d be dead with hundreds of holes in your body. So that wasn’t smart. Which is why you let Allison pull you behind a cart to let Luther wrap his arms around all three of you for some form of extra protection from the incoming bullets that were already getting stopped by the cart. But that too could fail at any moment, and all feelings left unsaid, unshared would be lost forever and dead alongside you.

The end of the Umbrella Academy would all come to this point, not even in your own time and yet as that came to mind, none of it mattered as much as Diego did. The concern for your well-being wasn’t as high as Diego’s who was out in the open, hopefully not dead. Of course you loved the rest of your siblings, even if you joined their family years later, you still cared for them, like they did you, they were a family you never had. But Diego, well he always had a special place in your heart that the others didn’t.

And now it was all going to be gone and left unspoken—

“Ahh,” suddenly a high pitched sound hits your ears and your hands fly to cover them, whilst your eyes flicker up to see Vanya floating out the farm, looking as she did what seemed to decades go. White and a blue hue surrounding her. Letting you all know what was to come, causing Luther to press the three of you closer to himself and try and protect you from what may come.

Making everything go silent and making the bullets stop like how they began so out of a sudden.

Letting out a relieved breath of air you let Luther's arm go and began to pull away, hearing Allison comment, “it’s over.”

And it also wasn’t.

Slowly you began to stand up and poke your head out above the hay carts, seeing the once sea of people all on the ground, the only two left just the same two women from before. Somehow.

“How are they doing that?” Luther asked what you all were thinking, all collectively noticing a blue field surrounding the two disappear and another blue source of light to appear from the woman with the dark. Again somehow.

“Shit.”

The same high pitch sounded and just like Vanya a wave of the same blue force was thrown and you all were thrown back. Your back hitting the barn wall with a loud and painful thud, surprisingly staying conscious after the outcome.

You groan, “fuck that hurt.” You slowly sit up to see your siblings are now scattered, a recognizable brunette struggling in the distance. Feeling your gaze, his attention snapped to you, calling out to you instantly.

“Y/N help!”

Jumping up to your feet you quickly rush over to him, throwing your hand out to use your powers to throw the tractor off Diego. That with really no effort at all, not like helping him up.

You smile softly, “you okay?”

He nods and cradles your cheeks, “yeah, never better. What about you?”

“I’ve gone through worse.”

His gaze lingers on your face and he smiles, “I’ve got to tell you something.”

“Me too.”

Diego swallows thickly and his thumb strokes your cheek, “I thought you were dead, which is why I got with Lila, I’m sorry. Just know that I never stopped...I-I” he pauses and his eyebrows furrow as he fumbles with his words.

A bright grin tugs at the corner of your lips, “it’s okay.” You assure him, “you don’t have to say it out loud.” Letting you read his mind, he insteads lets you read what he thought.

‘I never stopped loving you. Never.’

‘I love you too, Diego.’

Your hands hold his and just as you’re going to close the small gap left you hear the snow crunching beside you, the sight of your siblings catching the corner of your eye as they rush to come and join your side.

Diego let’s go and shares one last thing, ‘later.’

He pulls away at the same time your siblings surround the two of you.

Diego rushed up to Luther excited and very smugly, “team Zero! Unstoppable!” Diego tries to give him a high-five, but Luther instead meets his hand with a fist pump. Ultimately punching Diego’s palm and a small wince coming out his lips thereafter.

“Uh..”

“Has anyone seen five?” Allison finally asks.

“I don’t know he’s around here somewhere.” Luther again turns his attention towards Diego. “By the way your ex-girlfriend can blink like five.”

Allison nodded and added, “yeah, that bitch just rumored me so I couldn’t breathe.”

“And destroyed, like, had the farm with a shock wave. So unoriginal.” Klaus interjected.

“If she can do everything we can, she might as well just be one of us.” Vanya shared, letting a lightbulb go off in your mind at the new conclusion….

Shit…

Slowly all your siblings realizing the same thing. Their expressions and their running thoughts giving it away.

Luther chuckled nervously and then his amused grin dropped, “No, there's no way. It can’t be.”

Allison shrugs, “it’s a reasonable conclusion.”

“Eh, but there were only eight of us.” Klaus tries to dismiss.

Your eyebrows knot, “yeah, but I only came ten years later after your father took you all from your parents. So, maybe we need to consider that there’s more of us out there that ended up undiscovered at birth like me.”

Alison blinks, “are we surprised? I mean dad never told us the whole truth about anything.”

Diego’s steps up, “but she’s like y/n, right? She’s not our biological sister right?”

You blink and your jaw again drops at his cluelessness, “uh, I’m just not going to try.”—Not even try to read what he’s thinking.

Luther shakes his head and ignores Diego’s comment all together. “Okay, so, if she can mirror our powers, that means anything we throw at her, she can match, right?”

“Yeah,” Klaus agrees, “but she can only mirror one of our powers at a time.”

“You sure about that?” Allison questions.

“We can always try it, right?” You interject confidently, “nothing wrong with trying.”

——

Okay.

Well, apparently everything was wrong with trying since well...you died, but also came back to life thanks to Five. But in that, Lila also left.

So, trying, let everything go wrong.

Like always.

The only good thing that came out trying was that your siblings and Diego were all alive.

“You doing, okay?” You ask Diego softly.

His eyes blink to meet yours, sharing a small but soft smile, “yeah, you’re alive and the rest of my siblings are fine, so it’s all okay.”

You take a seat beside him and rest your head on his shoulder, “we’re finally going home.”

Diego’s arm wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you closer to him, “yeah about time.” He pauses and you feel him kiss the top of your head, “I’m ready to finally take a break, y’know. From all this, even if just for a little while.”

You grin and nod, “okay...what would we do?”

Diego shrugs, “whatever you want.”

Pulling your head away, you face him and show him your smile, leaning in to press a small kiss on his lips. “I just want to be with you.”

Diego cups your cheeks and kisses you softly, letting you once again read what he was thinking—‘sounds like a plan.’

You grin, ‘good.’

#the umbrella academy season 2 #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #tua fanfiction #tua #tua imagine #tua imagines #tua vanya #tua klaus #tua allison #tua Diego #tua luther #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagines #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #request

[crossbowking]

More Than This

Summary: (Set during season 3) Daryl and Reader are on a supply run when they find themselves under attack.

A/N: Hi everyone! So this is the very FIRST installment of a series I want to start on my page where we get a bunch of author’s together and write a collective one-shot! I had a blast putting this together. It was so amazing to get a feel for everyone’s different writing styles and it was also super cool how the story ended up blending together.

The order in which we wrote was chosen by a random number generator. After all the participating author’s sent me their pieces, I edited them together -- some stuff was changed or cut for continuity purposes/length. The only thing us author’s had to go off of was the summary -- the rest was up to us! Everyone seriously did AMAZING.

Each author will be tagged after their correlating piece, so be sure to give them all some love!

Thank you to everyone who participated! I hope you all enjoyed the experience!

Happy reading!

xx crossbowking

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Dim and dirty sunlight filtered in through the grimy supermarket windows, providing enough light to see the walker’s blood staining the worn linoleum.

You wrinkled your nose and yanked your knife out of its rotting head before stepping away from the mess. The stabbing you'd gotten used to, but you didn’t think you’d ever get used to that smell.

You looked up when someone stepped into the aisle, but it was only Daryl. You’d recognize those broad shoulders and that crossbow anywhere. You gave him a quick smile and cleaned your blade on the walker’s torn pants. “I think this is the last of them.”

Daryl looked down at the walker. “Better stick together, just in case.”

You nodded, re-sheathing your knife and letting him lead the way.

The two of you did one more sweep of the store before you started your search. You went aisle by aisle, looking under broken shelves and moving piles of cardboard and other debris. But your mind was only half on the task at hand, too distracted by thoughts of Daryl.

You didn’t know exactly when you began to notice the clear blue color of his eyes or how much you wanted to reach out and brush the hair out of his face when it began to grow long. You didn’t know when you started missing him when he was off hunting or how happy it made you when he came back safe.

All you knew was that you were head over heels and that kind of scared you.

You chanced a glance at him and when he looked up from what he was doing and met your gaze, you felt that familiar lurch in your chest. The mad urge to tell him how you felt overtook you. “Daryl, I —”

The front door of the store slammed open, cutting the moment short. You had time to whip around and take in several bedraggled men spilling into the store and realized they were aiming their weapons at you.

But Daryl was there and he was grabbing your arm and yanking you into his chest and diving behind the nearest piece of cover just as shots began to split the air. (@mundieoriley​)

Your heart pounded in your ears along with the sound of hailing gunshots.

Daryl held you in an almost painful grip against him, the furious look of protection etched onto his face.

You desperately tried to catch your breath, feeling panic start to rise inside you.

These people came from absolutely nowhere. How long had they been following you? How could you have not noticed? How could Daryl not have?

You had no time to speculate as the sudden silence that followed was just as jarring.

As you stirred in his arms, Daryl pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and placed a finger to his lips. You nodded and felt yourself calm slightly, the blue sincerity of his eyes radiating some kind of strength you believed in.

"Find ‘em," a gruff voice called out against the stark silence. "Gut the asshole, but don't mark up the girl.”

You could hear the sneer in the man's voice and your stomach turned.

Daryl's grip on your ribs tightened at the words possessively, and if it wasn't any other situation, you would have enjoyed the sensation to no end.

You, in turn, tightened your grip on your knife, trying to be ready for anything.

The sudden sound of multiple people walking in your direction made your eyes flick to Daryl's in a plead. A plead for direction, a plan, any communication as to what you should do. But Daryl had hardened over, the look on his face showing that he was ready to take on a hundred men if that's what it was going to take. (@rhyatt-deauxtreve​)

He didn't move until it was almost too late.

You tried to loosen his grip because the men were so close and you had to move now. And then you were roughly pushed forward, Daryl's hands no longer holding you tight against his chest.

You ducked away when the first bullet hit the shelf to your left. You didn’t have time to think, you just ran, half bent, hiding behind cabinets and shelves. Your blood was boiling and you distinctly heard the beats of your own heart. Somewhere behind you, the deafening whistle of a bolt cut through the air.

Suddenly Daryl was a little ahead and on your left. He turned around, loaded the crossbow, hiding behind the wall, and fired another bolt.

They were close, too close, and the small distance that you’d managed to win was rapidly shrinking.

As if through the cotton wool in your ears, you heard Daryl suddenly groan in pain.

A bullet had gone through his right side.

“Daryl!” you yelped.

But before you could react, he grabbed your hand and pushed you into a small room, looking over his shoulder every few seconds. “Lock the door and stay quiet,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“What!” you yelled and immediately lowered your voice. “Are you out of your mind? Get in here, there are too many of them!”

“Ain’t gonna fight,” he shot you a glare. “Gonna lead ‘em away. Now listen to what I say and stay.”

And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

Soon you heard firing and shouts. The men ran past your door. You stopped breathing and closed your eyes, praying to whatever God for them to pass you by.

And then, as soon as it had started, the firing stopped.

Sudden silence engulfed the store.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. You no longer heard the voices and shooting. Just dead silence.

And that’s when fear, primal fear, took over. (@aisling-beatha​​)

"Well, this sucks like the world's worst vacuum,” you muttered to yourself in nervous indecision, breathing away the panic before the idea of hysterical screaming could set in. You chewed on your fingernail while pacing the length of the musty, moth-infested maintenance closet. "Honestly, what was the man thinking? He's just been shot, for God's sake! He has no business leading a bunch of murdering thugs anywhere. It should be me leading them away.”

Your eyes narrowed and your jaw set as everything inside settled into a deadly calm.

You eased the door open a crack and peeked through, knives at the ready, along with a sturdy wrench you'd found and shoved into the back pocket of your jeans.

Sensing nothing of immediate import, you crept out into the gloom of the store's main area to search for clues as to Daryl's whereabouts, all the while keeping to the deepest shadows in complete silence.

One of the raiders was crouched over a fallen display of ratty old magazines, no doubt rummaging for one where the women wore as few clothes as was decent for the mass consumption standards of a grocery store.

Sliding up behind him like a ghost in the night, you pounced.

After a quick and dirty wrestling match — though he had the size advantage, he was stupid-drunk and you had the jump on him. One heavily booted foot dug into the man's spine as you leaned over him, blade a hair's breadth away from slicing his throat.

Your voice was flat, low, and completely without mercy. "I'll ask only once. Where is my friend?” (@darylconnieftw​​)

He slowly let go of the magazine still in his grip, starting to chuckle.

You felt anger rising in you as his lips formed a slight smirk. You couldn’t help but press your knife even closer to his throat, trying not to kill him then and there.

He lifted both of his hands in defense, visibly amused.

You swallowed, hoping Daryl was still alive and okay – or at least as okay as he could be considering he had gotten shot.

The man moved a little, making you shove your knife against his larynx, clarifying that you wouldn’t hesitate to slice his throat if he did something stupid.

“Whoa,” is all he came up with, glancing up at your silhouette.

You bit your lip, the taste of blood encasing your teeth as you tilted your head to look him dead in the eye. “I ain’t joking,” you stated, causing him to raise his eyebrows in a small nod.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before taking the knife off his throat and onto his lower arm, placing a deep cut on his wrist before pulling it back up. He screamed out in pain, his eyes asking for permission to stop the bleeding with his shirt, which you granted.

You listened to his panicked breath for a few seconds, blinking a few tears away. “I asked you something,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, yet low and aggressive.

He stared at you, stuttering as he answered. “The, uh, the guy with the dirty hair and, and, and wings on the back of his, uh, vest?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in. “Are there any other people your group attacked in here?”

He swallowed and shook his head as you suddenly noticed a shadow to your side. (@rxsenkrxnz-imagines​​)

A good thing that had come out of all of this was that after the world ended, you’d acquired very good reflexes.

It was vital to have them good and sharp now, it was the new normal. You would’ve died many times over if you hadn’t, everyone would.

And that’s what got you to swirl around without even having to think about it, bringing the man’s overweighted body with you to face the source of the shadow, the knife nicking at the skin of the big man’s neck, making him whimper. There was a flicker of proudness and a dirty pleasure inside your chest for being able to make a big, bad man whimper.

You’d never thought that you’d be able to do that one day.

From over his shoulder, your eyes focused on another man, this one much more threatening looking than the one under your knife. He was lean and muscular and the hatred and danger in his eyes made you shiver, even though you didn’t let any of them notice.

“Stop right there, asshole,” you said between clenched teeth and the firmness of your voice surprised even yourself. “Or I’ll slit his throat open!”

Of all the things you thought the man would do, a smile was not one of them.

He lowered his head, keeping his eyes on yours, the smile making you sure you’d vomit after all of this was over. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care. Go on, darling. Do it.” (@elisdays​​)

Well, that was not what you were expecting to hear.

You recognized the man’s voice though, it was the same one who spoke earlier and you put together that he was probably the thug pack leader. “Don’t test me!” you shouted, although you were sure he wasn’t testing you.

A snicker escaped the man’s lips. “I ain’t testing you, darling, I mean it. Do it, kill him.”

“C-come on, man! Don’t egg her on, she actually will!” the man in your grasp whimpered as he begged for his life.

The leader’s eyes fell on the one you held captive. “Sorry, Greg, but you know how it is. The more of you around, the less time we all have with this pretty one. Be a good boy and let her kill you. You’ll be remembered for your loyal sacrifice.” His words sent a shiver up your spine.

These people, no, these monsters were absolutely sick. You already knew that this new world brought either the worst or the best out of people. It was just unfortunate that most of the world became the worst versions of themselves.

“Go on, princess! What are you waiting for?” the man took a step towards you as he urged you to kill his henchman.

You needed to think of something and fast.

“You know what? This is a waste of time,” the man sighed, pulling his gun from its holster.

You gasped as Greg screamed, the thug leader pulling the trigger and shooting Greg in the head. You felt the dead weight of his body fall limp onto you and you tried to use this to your advantage. You shoved the dead body forward and ran, dashing behind shelves as the body fell onto the thug leader.

You needed to get out, you needed to get away from these people and most importantly, you needed to find out where the hell Daryl went.

Panic struck your heart when you thought about him. Was he okay? Did he run into more of them? Did he kill them? You shook your head before you could finish your thought process. Now was not the time to panic and cry. (@ddixons-angel​​)

Pull yourself together — that’s what you had to do now.

You crouched down behind one of the empty shelves, near the exit. But what were you to do? Not like it was an easy decision to make. You had to stay alive, that much was clear. Ending up dead wouldn’t be too big a use to Daryl right now.

The thing that worked in your favor was the thing that terrified you most. The reason for these men wanting you alive had very little to do with the goodness of their hearts.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of the grumbling leader, seemingly to have wrestled free of his buddy's dead body.

You should’ve been out of here by now, but you knew that running blindly wasn't going to do you much good — who could even guarantee that you wouldn’t be running straight into the rest of the guy's merry band of thugs? No, you weren’t an idiot.

You stilled completely, not daring to draw a breath as you heard the man's footsteps creep your way.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he sang out mockingly, stupidly giving out his exact position.

He was just a shelf away, practically standing right behind you. (@of-storms-and-sadness​​)

Once he was at arm’s length on the other side of the broken shelf, you reached through with your blade, stabbing him twice in the thigh.

The pain you inflicted caused the man to groan out, cursing through gritted teeth. When he composed himself, he swung around the corner but was met with an empty aisle, excluding the cans and blood that littered the floor.

Before he could take another confused step, you struck from behind, going for his armed hand.

With his wrist in your grasp, you forced the barrel to face off to the side. The gun went off as you backed him into the shelf, using the opportunity to jab your blade into his abdomen once — twice — thrice.

If you hadn’t caught him off guard, you highly doubted that would’ve been the outcome.

The combination of his back slamming against a hard object, your deadly grip on his dominant hand, and you gutting him, caused the gun to slip from his hold and clatter to the floor. You managed to kick the weapon aside before you were roughly shoved into the rack across from you with such force it knocked, not only the air out of your lungs, but your knife out of your hand.

Blinking away your blurred vision, your mind frantically tried to come up with an idea of what to do next. Should you try to reach for the discarded gun? Your knife?

No — there was another weapon in play.

Just in the nick of time, you shrieked and ducked down, barely missing the fist that was meant to make contact with your face. You kneed him in the groin before reaching into your back pocket, feeling the wrench that you had nabbed from the maintenance closet earlier.

Positioning yourself behind the crouched man, you held both ends of the tool, bringing it over his head and to his neck. Your back greeted the ground as you laid there and applied pressure, choking the life out of the once cocky and determined bastard.

“Be a good boy and let me kill you,” you taunted his words back at him through clenched teeth as he struggled.

Once the man went limp, you shoved his body off you with a grunt and went to grab your knife and the owner-less gun — it was yours now.

All of a sudden a shot rang out.

Daryl.

Where was Daryl? (@twdeadlysins​​)

You squatted down, jamming the knife in your hand into the soft flesh of the leaders’ temple, knowing that it could only take mere minutes for the dead to rise again.

You slowly crept over to the entrance of the store and peeked outside, checking if there were any more of the thugs outside.

Your hands were slightly shaking and your heart beating frantically in your chest as your eyes traced the empty street outside of the store. You needed to get to Daryl fast, he needed your help.

The gunshot you had heard had nearly made your heart stop. Had the thugs already killed him?

Since you could not spot any immediate danger, you slowly made your way out of the store.

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. You had not seen what direction Daryl had led the thugs, but you figured you just had to start somewhere.

You held the knife in your hand, your eyes and ears ready to pick up any movement or sound as you moved along the side of the building. You glanced over your shoulder, making sure that no one was creeping up on you as you moved forward.

Your steps suddenly came to an abrupt halt as you bumped into something solid.

You yelped and raised your hand, ready to strike, but a firm hand around your wrist stopped you.

“Easy girl, it’s just me,” you heard Daryl’s raspy voice and your wide frightened stare locked with his sky blue orbs.

You let out a relieved whimper and threw your arms around his neck, hugging him. “I thought you were dead, I heard a gunshot,” you said as you hugged him tightly.

Feeling how he flinched, you took a step back and your eyes traced down to his side where he was shot.

“Oh god, you’re hurt. We need to get you back to the others before you bleed out,” you whispered, feeling your heart start to speed up again.

The two of you were not out of danger yet. Daryl was shot and you knew it was up to you now to get you both to safety. (@easnuppa​​)

You wrapped your arms around Daryl's waist, leading him toward the truck you’d parked a little way back.

Fear gripped at your heart with every step you took, every wince Daryl tried to keep in, every little bit of blood he was losing. “Nearly there, hold on,” you pleaded to Daryl, the truck finally coming into view.

You opened the passenger side door and took as much of Daryl's weight as you could, helping him get in. You took a glance at Daryl as he sat in the passenger seat, his head leaned back on the headrest and his eyes closed.

You had never been more scared in your life as you were right there in that moment.

You quickly closed his door and rushed to the driver's seat where you promptly started the engine and began your tense journey back to the prison.

With every minute that passed, your panic started to rise, Daryl's breathing started to slow, and more blood was seeping through his fingers that were putting pressure on his gunshot wound.

“Keep pressure on it, Daryl, you hear,” you said loudly, trying to keep him awake and distracted.

But as you looked over to him, he was unresponsive.

“Daryl!” you screamed louder, hoping to wake him up, but failed. “God, no please,” you begged, tears threatening to fall as you took the hand you didn’t need and placed it on his wound, keeping the blood flow at a minimum.

“Daryl, don’t leave me, you can't do this to me,” tears now falling down your face as the gates of the prison came into view. “Please help me, it’s Daryl!” you screamed out the open window to whoever was on watch.

“He's breathing but barely,” you informed whoever came to help, feeling helpless as you

watched them cart off Daryl’s unconscious form. (@jodiereedus22​​)

Everything felt fuzzy.

The world spun around you, noises muted and muffled as the driver’s side door was yanked open. A pair of hands grasped onto your arms and you allowed yourself to be pulled from the truck, finding it impossible to move on your own.

A rough hand grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upwards, your vacant eyes locking with Rick’s frantic ones. He was mouthing something you couldn't quite make out, his hands moving to grip either one of your shoulders, giving you an abrupt shake. “— happened? What happened, Y/N?” Rick’s voice broke through the fog, scanning your features wildly.

You opened your mouth to respond, confused as to why no words seemed to be coming out.

Rick appeared to swallow his frustration, instead taking a deep breath and placing his hand on the side of your neck. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, Y/N, it’s alright,” he soothed before his eyes hardened. “Was this the Governor?”

You swallowed audibly, forcing yourself to calm. “I-I —” you stuttered, exhaling shakily. “I don’t think so. W-We got — we, uh, we got ambushed. And Daryl —” your voice broke at the thought of what had happened.

“Listen ta’ me, Y/N,” Rick intervened, his tone noticeably softer. “Ya did all ya could do, alright? Ya got him home. Ya did all ya could do,” he reiterated.

You took a steadying breath. “I-I need to see him — I need to be with him.”

Rick nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “I know ya do.”

Things still felt hazy as you made your way into cell block C. (@crossbowking​​)

You sat on top of the steps and waited for news on Daryl. You hoped that he was going to be okay.

After a little while, Hershel hopped out of his cell. "I stitched up his side. But he hasn't regained consciousness yet and his breathing is labored,” he told you.

You headed inside and looked at him.

"Just give me a shout if he wakes up,” Hershel told you and left you alone.

You looked at Daryl and sat beside him. "Dare, you have to wake up, please,” you said with tears in your eyes. (@leej2468​​)

You hoped he heard you so he knew he wasn’t alone.

The afternoon dragged on slowly, yet you never left his side, afraid he would wake alone. You waited impatiently, perched on a stool next to his bedside.

The events of the day played in your mind, making your heart shatter more at the fact that Daryl almost got himself killed trying to keep you safe. Furiously swiping at the tears forming in your eyes, you just hoped that he would wake up and everything would go back to normal.

But you knew, deep down, you didn’t want things to go back to normal. The unspoken feelings you had were eating you alive and today just proved that you had to tell him before something happened to either of you. You knew he cared for you, he fucking proved that today, but you had to tell him that you wanted more.

You couldn’t help but take his limp hand in your own, slightly squeezing. Eyes trained on your joined hands, you almost didn’t notice his eyes flicker open slowly.

He didn’t say a word, only gripping your hand tightly, eyes wild. “Yer alright,” he managed to gasp out, his other hand reaching up to touch your face.

“Don’t try to move,” you whispered a reply. “Let me get Hershel, okay?”

“Don’t,” he rasped, trying to tug you back to his side. “Stay.”

You couldn’t help but bring his hand to your lips, kissing his rough knuckles. He sighed at the feeling and you leaned into his hand. “I thought I lost you,” you whispered, mostly to yourself in relief, but he heard it.

“Ya won’t lose me,” he mumbled, his eyes lazily trained on you as if he would doze off any second.

“You know what we have is special,” you whispered, raising your hand to move strands of hair from his eyes. “I want to know if you feel the same. I can’t wait anymore to tell you how I feel, especially knowing that something could happen.”

He paused, his expression softening. “I know,” he finally said gruffly. “I want...” he trailed off, thoughtful, trying to come up with something to say. “I wanna protect you, keep ya safe, but —” he inhaled sharply. “But I want more.”

You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. “Me, too,” you replied, and he nodded, his eyes closing. You leaned forward, lips on his forehead, and he didn’t flinch back like he usually did at physical contact.

Instead, he let you, without restraint, his tense posture relaxing under your touch.

“I love you and I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your lips barely on his skin.

He nodded. “Me, too.”

You leaned back, still holding his hand, letting him rest. (@writerzunite​​)

Fin.

A/N: So what did everyone think! 

Let me know if this is something you’d like to see/participate in again!

And make sure you go check out these awesome author’s other stories!!!

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[oliviaischillin1204]

let’s play a game

Pairings: Platonic LAMP

Word Count: 5,983 words

inspired by this post by @thetickleeraven (thank you dani!! this was why i sent you that ask a few days ago lol, i hope i did your idea justice)

imma keep it real with you chief. idk how good this is but it’s Long and also i haven’t posted anything in over a month and i miss it so i hope y’all enjoy and hopefully i will be able to keep this motivation train going

Honestly, no one could really agree on who was to blame for the game. They had just been talking about what to do for their next game night (Patton’s idea) when the subject somehow came around to how much fun they all had when they played tickling games together (Roman’s fault, of course). Then someone (Logan, probably) began brainstorming a potential set of rules and regulations, and the game was made.

But if anyone really wanted the truth, well. It was Virgil who asked if they could play it tonight. So here they were.

“Everyone remember the rules?” Logan asked, smoothing a hand over his tie like he did when he was nervous. Roman nodded, pulling out the instructions on a sparkly piece of paper.

“Each number on the die correlates to a type of laugh. 1 is snort, 2 is giggle, 3 is squeal, 4 is scream, 5 is whine, and 6 is cackle,” he recited. “My and Patton’s objective is to coax that type of laughter from our respective lees, in any way possible.”

He shot his eyes over to Logan, who pointedly did not let his gaze drop, even as his cheeks grew warmer. Next to him, Virgil was already wrapping his arms around his midriff as Patton gave him a cheeky smile.

“If the ler can accomplish his task in less than one minute, he gets two points,” Roman continued. “If he succeeds after one minute, both the ler and the lee get one point. Zero points to the ler and two points to the lee if the group agrees that the lee has lasted long enough without letting the ler win.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s definitely not a biased way to measure it.”

“Oh, so you think the lee should be tickled until they give up whatever laughter their ler is looking for?” Roman asked, quirking his head innocently. “Because if that’s what you want, to get tickled and tickled until you finally break, we can change the rules now--”

“Okay! Enough!” Virgil blurted, face significantly redder than it was a few seconds before. He hugged himself tighter as Roman laughed, reaching over to pat his knee in reassurance.

“Everyone ready, gang?” Patton asked, his face full of excitement.

“Ready!” Roman chirped, while Virgil and Logan merely nodded. “Who wants to go first?” 

Virgil paused, looking around the small circle before dropping his eyes to his hands in his lap. He wanted to play the game, of course, he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t want to do it, but the idea of going first was not looking particularly appealing to him. Luckily, Logan must have caught on to his discomfort, because the logical side drew everyone’s attention with a small cough.

“If it’s all the same,” he said, “I think I’d prefer it if Roman and I were first.”

Roman grinned. “Just can’t wait, can you?” He smirked when Logan’s face went a bit pink at his words, and he reached for the die.

“Okay, here we go...” he said grandly, somehow managing to turn a simple phrase so dramatic that the other three sides couldn’t help but laugh. He shook the die in his hand and dropped it onto the floor, allowing all four of them to watch it roll to a stop. 

Patton leaned forward, straightening his glasses. “That’s a 5!”

Immediately Logan had to fight off a nervous smile, especially when Roman turned to him with a joyful look in his eyes.

“You know what to do, Specs,” he said with a certain teasy tone in his voice. “On your stomach, please.”

Logan complied without protesting, mostly because he was a little grateful to start the game on one of his less intense spots. He laid his head on his folded arms, feeling a little shy under Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

“One minute on the timer, starting...” 

He couldn’t hear anything behind him for a few seconds, and the awful anticipation made him want to squirm. Finally, just before he was about to ask Roman if everything was alright, he felt two fingers slowly begin to walk down his spine.

“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself, quickly pressing his lips into a thin line. Roman’s low chuckle from somewhere behind him was not helping in the slightest.

“Don’t be rude, Teach,” he teased, speeding up his fingers a bit as he began skimming the fingers from his other hand around his shoulderblades. “I just want to hear you whine, and what better way to do that than tickling your favorite melt spot? I mean, it is still your favorite, isn’t it?”

Logan didn’t answer, half because he didn’t want to admit that Roman was right, and half because he’s not sure what sort of noises would come out of him if he opened his mouth right now. All of his focus was on Roman’s skilled fingers, now focused on spidering down his spine to congregate on the back of his hips, occassionally giving quick scratches to the exposed stretch of skin above his pantline where his shirt had come untucked.

“Tickle tickle tickle,” Roman murmured, and wow they really should’ve made a rule against verbal teasing because it was making the fluttering feeling against his back so much more tickly. Logan found himself subtly rocking back and forth, as if he could displace Roman’s hands by moving his torso two inches to the left.

“Oh, feeling a bit wiggly, are we?” Roman asked, the smirk audible in his voice. “Hang on, I think I remember what to do here--”

Logan’s eyes went wide, but it was too late: Roman had shoved one hand up his shirt and was now grazing that one specific spot on the back of his ribs with his fingernails. Slowly, slowly, slowly.

Logan’s back arched involuntarily, and he let out a quiet, high pitched keening noise that no one could deny was a textbook whine. He began to let out quiet giggles as well, muffling the sound into his arms with no avail.

“The trick is to only do one side at a time,” he heard Roman confide in their onlookers. “Two hands makes him absolutely freak out, but one hand is just enough to--”

“Stohohop! You won!” Logan blurted through his giddy noises. He heard Roman scoff in mock offense before finally pulling his hand out of Logan’s shirt, pulling it back down and patting his back comfortingly.

“Thank you for the points, Pocket Protector! I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re too upset about losing, are you?”

Logan rolled his eyes as he sat up, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Yes, yes, you passed the first round. Congratulations on your two points. Whose turn is it now?”

Patton giggled. “Our turn, silly!” He turned to Virgil, raising his eyebrows.

“Virge, you ready?”

“Yep,” Virgil replied quickly. “I’ll roll.” He snatched up the die before he could change his mind, rolling it in his palm. Something about being the one in control of the dice made him feel better, and Roman always says confidence is key, so maybe the universe would see how bold he was being and would go easy on him--?

The die dropped from his hand by accident and rolled to a stop on the floor, with the number 1 practically glowing up at him.

“Fuck off.” Thanks, universe.

To his left, Patton gave a dramatic gasp. “Virgil! Language!” His eyes narrowed, turning playfully dangerous as he continued, “Oh, you’re gonna be sorry you said that, kiddo! Roman, get the timer!”

Virgil’s eyes widened, and it took everything in him to not full on run away from what he knew he was coming; but, again, he agreed to play by the rules, so he only fought a minimal amount as Patton crawled forward to pull him to his doom.

“Patton, no, Patton, no, Patton no!” 

“Patton, yes!” Patton replied, pulling the flailing anxious side towards him until Virgil’s back was leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Timer’s ready,” Roman interjected with a fair bit of amusement. He started the stopwatch, holding it up so Patton and Virgil could see it.

“Are you ready, Virgil? Are you ready?” Patton cooed, watching in delight as Virgil’s ears turned bright red. “Oh, it’s tickle time! It’s tickle time! It’s ticky-ticky-ticky tickle time!”

“Pahahatton!” he protested, already slipping into giggles as he fought to keep Patton’s breath off of his ear. “No tahahalking!”

“Oh, no talking?” Patton hummed, being kind enough to not press him mouth against Virgil’s neck so he could torture him with the vibrations. “Well, if I can’t talk, maybe I’ll just have to--”

He struck before finishing his sentence, catching Virgil off guard with a big, noisy kiss right behind his ear. A sound that was half laugh, half yell escaped his lips before he slammed his hands over his mouth.

“Oh, whatcha doing, Virgil?” Patton asked, peering over to catch his eye. “You trying not to laugh, silly billy? You think you can hold it in? Aw, you’re so cute!”

He combined the compliment with a soft peck of a kiss to the back of Virgil’s ear, and a full body shiver wracked Virgil’s frame. Patton grinned, and repeated the action several more times, tightening his hold around Virgil’s waist to keep him from squirming right out of his lap.

“Do you like my kisses, Virgil? Huh? Virgey likes the kissy-kisses?”

Virgil grunted behind his hands, his eyes screwed shut in half desperation and half embarrassment.

Patton grinned. Virgil was so silly! By covering his mouth and being forced to breathe through his nose, he was making it much easier to coax those cute little snorts out of him! Speaking of which--

“Virgil,” he murmured, letting his warm breath brush over Virgil’s ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three, and then you’re gonna give me those snorts. Okay? One...”

Virgil shook his head frantically, but Patton paid him no mind.

“Two...”

A choked laugh came from behind his hands, but Patton didn’t do anything. He just sat there, casually exhaling slowly over the back of Virgil’s neck. The anxious side continued to squirm, his entire body tensed for the anticipated attack, but still nothing came. He knew it was a trick, he knew it, but he couldn’t keep his muscles tensed forever, so maybe if he just relaxed for a quick second he could--

The instant Patton felt Virgil’s body go slightly slack in his arms, he pressed his lips to the back of his neck and blew the biggest raspberry he could manage.

Virgil gasped and burst out laughing in quick succession, hands dropping from his mouth as he weakly tried to push Patton away from him somehow. He inhaled loudly, letting his breath run out with his laughter, and then--

Snort.

“Gohohod dammit!” Virgil screamed through his uncontrollable giggles, face growing even redder as he made another adorable snorting sound. He was aware of Roman cheering and Logan saying something about points, but all he could think about was how desperately he needed Patton’s mouth off of his neck right now immediately.

Unfortunately for him, Patton didn’t relent, instead blowing a bunch of smaller rasperries against his neck to keep Virgil snorting for at least a few more seconds. Just so they could get a clear ruling on whether or not he’d won the points! No other reason, of course.

Finally he let Virgil go, unwrapping his arms from his waist as the other side shot his hands up to rub at his poor neck protectively.

“Got your snorties, little piggie!” Patton chirped. Virgil tried to glower at him, but the effect was ruined by his bright pink cheeks and wobbly smile.

“So that’s two points for Roman, two points for Patton, and none for Virgil or myself,” Logan repeated. “Roman, will you roll the die?”

Roman grinned. “With great pleasure, Loganberry!” He snatched up the die, only giving it a few shakes before throwing it to the floor. It bounced for a moment until it came to rest right in front of Logan.

He peered at it, and his eyes lit up in triumph. “Ah. This will be an easy one, then.”

“Why, what’d you get?” Patton asked. Logan carefully picked up the die and presented the number 2 to the group.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And that makes this easy for you, because...?”

“Because,” Logan said stiffly, shifting his glasses, “I do not giggle.”

The other three sides paused as his words sunk in.

“Logan, buddy,” Roman said gently, “we’ve definitely heard you giggle before. Like, two minutes ago.”

Logan huffed. “Because I wasn’t trying to control myself at that point. Trust me, if given the opportunity, I am perfectly adept at withholding such light laughter.”

He wasn’t expecting Roman to suddenly cross the distance between them, kneeling before him with a focus that made him shrink back on instinct.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, ” Roman said, pushing Logan by the shoulders until he was flat on his back, easily crawling over his hips and pinning his arms above his head with one hand. The bright and dangerous look in his eyes was enough to make Logan freeze like a trapped animal.

He heard Patton say something about the timer, but all he could focus on was Roman, as the creative side raised one hand to hover over his chest.

The two of them made eye contact for just a moment, before Roman grinned.

“The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spout--”

Logan’s eyes bulged. “No--!”

But it was too late: Roman began spidering his fingers up Logan’s side, starting from just above his hips and lazily crawling up his torso.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!”

He scratched his way down Logan’s side again, taking his time to thoroughly cover the sensitive spots with tickles. Logan writhed, throwing himself as far to the other side as he could.

“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,” Roman sang, leaning forward to blow cool air across Logan’s neck to make him squirm while his fingers focused on one specific spot halfway up his side.

“Ssst- stohohop, stop,” Logan begged. Roman ignored him in favor of tightening his grip on Logan’s wrists as he moved his fingers higher again.

“And the itsy, bitsy spider--”

“No!”

“Went up the spout--”

“Roman!”

“Again!” Roman cheered as his fingers made his way to Logan’s exposed armpit, scratching and skittering away in the ticklish little hollow. Logan bucked, twisted his body, and yanked on his arms as hard as he could, but despite everything, he did not giggle.

“Thirty seconds, Ro!” Patton called. Roman’s mouth set into a firm line.

“If you make me lose, Lo, I’ll make you regret it,” he murmured. He stopped tickling as he pulled his hand back, and Logan took the break to exhale.

“If you lose, it will be because of your own inadequacy,” he retorted, still pulling on his arms. Roman’s eyes narrowed.

“Yep, regret time starts now,” he announced, and before Logan could react, he released his hold on Logan’s wrists and attached both hands to his ribs, squeezing and prodding the bones with no rhyme or reason.

“Ro-oman! Nahahahaha- nohoho!” Logan’s shocked laughter bust out of him at the unexpected intense tickles. His hands dropped, trying to pull Roman’s hands off of his ribcage, but Roman’s vibrating fingers made him weak with laughter.

“There it is!” Roman said triumphantly. “See, we just need to break you down first, right? That’s all you need, just some big tickles so we can break down those walls!” His grin morphed into a smirk as he suddenly abandoned Logan’s ribs and grabbed his wrists once again, wiggling his free hand over Logan’s armpit.

“And now we just--”

His finger dove in, spiraling in circles around Logan’s hollow before dipping into the deepest part of his armpit. Logan gasped, body going tense for a short second before he went limp, falling into helpless giggles at the teasy pit tickles.

Virgil snickered from the sidelines, leaning over to check the stopwatch. “And with 5 seconds left, Logan loses yet again.” He laughed out loud at the petulant pout on Logan’s face, but stopped laughing as Logan sat up, grabbing the die and tossing it to him.

“Your turn, Virgil,” he said smoothly. “I do hope Patton doesn’t target your tummy next. That would just be awful for you.”

Virgil flushed as Patton and Roman laughed, but he did roll the die quickly enough that he couldn’t pretend he hated Logan’s suggestion. It bounced for a second before coming to a stop in front of Patton, whose brow furrowed in determination.

“Oh, this is a hard one,” he admitted while looking down at the 3. “Virgil doesn’t really squeal that much, ‘cause if it tickles that bad he usually just starts laughing right away.”

Virgil made an embarrassed noise. “Pat--”

“I mean, I know his giggle spots, snorty spots, cackle spots, but squeals? He’s just too ticklish to not full-on laugh--”

“Pat!”

“Hm?” Patton looked back up at Virgil’s red face, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ before breaking into a smile. “Aw, sorry, stormcloud! I didn’t mean to tease.”

Virgil grumbled, but didn’t move away when Patton gently pushed him onto his back, hands covering his stomach instinctively. “Just-- just get it over with.”

“Don’t fret, Doom and Gloom!” Roman said, setting up the timer. “You might get some points this round!”

Logan made a disagreeing noise, looking down at Virgil with a teasy smile. “Oh, I have a good deal of faith that Patton will be able to make his little ‘stormcloud’ squeal.”

Virgil groaned, head thumping back onto the floor. “Oh my God, just be quiet-- ah!”

He jerked as he felt Patton’s fingers running along his neck, swiping up at his ears and down to his collarbone.

“Maybe there’s some squeals up here? What do you think?”

“Ngh!” Virgil spluttered, fighting to keep his hands from batting at Patton’s. His nails seemed to glide over the thin skin of his neck, sending the worst kinds of tingles down his spine and making his breath come faster.

“Hm, no? Are you sure?” Patton croon, tracing a finger around and around Virgil’s ear, giggling to himself as Virgil jerked his head away from the tickles. His fingers skittered downwards, coming to rest in the middle of Virgil’s chest.

“Let’s see... where should we go...”

He hummed in consideration, fingers skimming in different directions to keep Virgil guessing as he squirmed.

“How about... right here!” he finished, darting his hands down to tase Virgil’s sides. Just as he said, Virgil immediately broke into loud laughter, body moving from one side to another in a weak attempt to dodge the fluttering fingers on either side of his torso.

“A ticky-ticky-ticky-tickle!” Patton cooed. “Tickle-tickle-tickle, little Virgey! Oh, does it tickle, honey? Yeah? It does? Oh, I bet it just tickles so bad!”

He continue to tickle and tease, even though Virgil was well past the point of squealing. His eyes were screwed shut in giddy delight, his belly laughs coming fast and clear in his sensitive state.

Patton’s fingers trailed from his sides to his ribs to his underarms. “Hm, none o these are squealy spots, huh? You’re just too ticklish, huh, Virgil?”

“Plehehease,” Virgil giggled, embarassment curling in his stomach. “Dohohon’t--”

“Just squeal for me!” he replied cheerfully. “Come on, Virgey, you can do it!”

Virgil was laughing his head off, but he still didn’t even try to fake a squeal-- just because he didn’t want to give Patton two points, of course, and not because he might have actually been enjoying the tickles.

Until, of course, Patton’s hands reared up to hover over his stomach.

“Logan had such a good idea earlier,” he chirped. “Time for tummy tickles!”

Virgil gasped, sucking in his stomach as far as it would go, but a second later his laughter exploded out of him yet again as Patton began scribbling his fingers all over his stomach without preamble.

“Ahahahahahaha! Nahahahaha!” Virgil couldn’t stop himself from shooting his hands down to cover his stomach, but Patton merely tickled all of the exposed skin that he couldn’t cover at once. His feet drummed on the floor as he fought through his laughs, and between that and Patton’s incessant teasing he almost couldn’t hear the ‘beep beep’ of Roman’s phone in the background.

“Pahahat! The timer!”

Patton pouted. “Aw, so soon?” He pulled back, giving Virgil a chance to breathe, but a small cough from one of their onlookers pulled his attention.

“Actually, Patton,” Logan interjected, “the rules clearly state that the ler may continue until the group decides that the lee has lasted long enugh.” He smirked down at Virgil before turning to Roman. “Do you think he’s lasted long enough, Roman?”

Roman put a hand to his chin and hummed in consideration. He looked down at Virgil’s blushy, teary face, before grinning.

“I think Patton can still get those squeals! That okay, Virgil?”

Virgil glared at the two of them, who return his look with shit-eating grins.

“You are so de-ead!” Virgil’s threat ended in another explosion of helpless giggles as Patton returned to his task, squishing his tummy pudge with a cheerful dilligence.

“Oh, oh, oh! Virgil! I think I see somewhere your squeals might be hiding!”

Virgil craned his neck to look at Patton’s hands, which were now clawing the air right above his belly button. He gasped again.

“Nah! Not there!” he cried, drawing his legs up to protect his stomach.

“But Virgil! I wanna play with your little button!” Patton replied, grabbing Virgil’s legs. He just wanted to pull them down so he could really give his little tickle button the attention it deserved, but then--

Virgil squeaked, loudly, when Patton’s fingers wrapped around his knee.

Virgil and Patton froze, sharing a look of surprise for a few seconds, before Patton gave him an evil grin.

“What was that, stormcloud?”

“N- nothing, nothing!” Virgil replied quickly, tugging at his legs, but he couldn’t stop Patton from gripping around his calf with one arm and clawing just above his kneecap with his other hand.

“Is this a tickle spot someone forgot to tell me about?” he asked innocently. Virgil shook his head, smile growing.

“Patton-- Popstar, please, I’ll do whatever you want, don’t ti-- don’t touch me!”

Patton tsked, swirling one finger around the bone. “Aw, I’m so sorry, honey, but you know the rules! If I find a tickle spot, I have to play with it!” He began pinching and vibrating his fingers in the muscle above Virgil’s knee, which sent him into desperate, frantic laughter, weakly trying to kick his legs out of Patton’s grip.

“You know, for someone with such tickly knees, your jeans sure have a lot of holes in them,” Patton pondered aloud, worming his fingers through one of the rips and scratching at Virgil’s bare skin.

“Wahahait-- wait!”

“Wait for what?” Patton asked, tracing his nails along his kneecap. “We’re just playing a game, right? Are you having fun, kiddo?”

Virgil’s giggles refused to dim enough for him to speak, but he still managed a small nod at Patton’s question.

“Aw, I’m having a lot of fun with you, too, stormcloud!” Patton cooed, darting a hand up to give a quick tickle to Virgil’s thighs, then to his hips, up to his tummy, back down to his thighs-- moving his hand too quickly for Virgil to predict or protect himself, all while his other hand was lazily tickling all around his bare knee.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Tickle tickle tickle! Aw, listen to those giggles! Those little giggly tickly giggles!” Patton’s teasing was pushing Virgil to the edge, the different sensations were keeping him in an unending stream of laughter, and he didn’t know how it could get any worse.

So of course, Patton chose that moment to slips his fingers around to caress the underside of Virgil’s knee, his nails tracing and stroking the thin skin.

“Tickle, tickle--”

And just like that, Virgil was squealing, loud and high pitched and desperate. He writhed on the floor, all of his attention on that one terrible little spot behind his knee. His hands came up in a useless attempt to cover his mouth.

“I did it!” Patton said triumphantly. He pulled his hands back to give Virgil room to breathe.

“You-- you--” Virgil panted, a wobbly smile on his face. When Patton continued to give him a beaming smile, he sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, you did it, Pat,” he said. “Good job.”

Patton chuckled, helping Virgil lean his head in his lap so he could rest. “Good job to you to, kiddo! You lasted way more than a minute!”

“One point for Virgil, and another point for Patton,” Roman confirmed. Eyes flicking between Virgil and Logan, he gave a cheeky smile as he turned to Logan and asked, “Hey, Specs, does that mean you’re the only one without a point?”

Logan bristled. “That is irrelevant. The game is not over yet.”

Roman’s grin widened. “We’ll see.” He grabbed the die, tossing it once in the air and catching it in his palm before holding it out to Logan. “Would you care to do the honors?”

Logan plucked the die from his hand without responding, thinking to himself as he prepared to roll. Of the 6 potential outcomes, he would have the best luck with one of the rolls he’d already gotten, 5 or 2. He was confident in his abilities to withhold his snorts or his squeals, so 1 or 3 were also safe bets. And honestly, he didn’t really tend to “cackle” (which was a subjective term and not a good indicator for the game, but that didn’t stop Roman from including it anyway) so 6 was also most likely a safe bet. Therefore, he had a 5/6 chance at getting at least one point this round.

With the security of someone who knows the odds, Logan rolled the die to Roman’s feet.

Roman looked down at it, an intentionally unreadable look on his face.

“Well?”

Roman didn’t answer, instead grabbing the die and showing it to Patton and Virgil, rudely keeping it out of Logan’s view. Based on Patton’s happy gasp and Virgil’s amused huff of laughter, Logan was not amused.

“What did I roll?” he asked sharply as Roman passed the die to Patton. “Patton!”

Patton laughed aloud. “Sorry, Logi.” He held up the die for Logan to see, and the logical side’s face paled at the sight of the number 4 peering back at him.

The world abruptly spun as Logan felt himself suddenly being moved from his seated position to lying flat on his back. The fall shocked him, but to his greater surprise he realized he was still moving-- he was being dragged across the carpet by his ankles.

“No!” he yelped before he could stop himself.

“Oh, yes!” Roman said, capturing both of Logan’s ankles underneath one arm, looking over his shoulder with a terrible grin. “We all know what it takes to make you scream, isn’t that right?”

One lazy finger trailed down Logan’s left sole, and he jumped, shaking his head frantically as his lips stayed clamped shut. Roman responded by adding a second finger, this time giving just the lightest of scratches to his right sole.

“Ngh,” Logan said, eloquent as ever. Roman chuckled.

“Aw, speechless already? Gosh, you must be really ticklish here if you can’t even handle a couple fingers. Maybe I should just--”

Roman began scratching against Logan’s heels, but nearly stopped when the logical side made a desperate noise, yanking his legs as hard as he could.

“Please!”

His voice was so full of panic, it made Roman stop, looking back with genuine concern at the blushy mess of a side on the floor behind him. Logan met his eyes, but despite how desperate he had sounded a moment before, he did not try any further attempts to escape.

“Oh, you really can’t handle the buildup, huh?”

Logan shook his head, eyes screwed shut and cheeks flushed. The following silence made him tense up with anticipation.

“... Okay, okay, don’t worry, Logan. I won’t be so mean as to tease your worst spot.”

His words settled over Logan, who, after a moment of surprise, breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank--”

Roman didn’t even let him finish his sentence before shoving his fingers directly under Logan’s toes, scratching at the skin with a merciless accuracy.

Logan immediately broke into loud screams of laughter.

“Ahahahahahahaha! Nahaha! Why--? Oh Gohohohod!” His howls of laughter exploded out of him as he writhed on the floor, hands jerking as he struggled to not lean forward and hit Roman on reflex.

“I said no teasing!” Roman defended, calling out over Logan’s wild laughter. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t tickle! Thanks for the points, Logan!”

He wormed his fingers in between Logan’s toes, scratching his nails along the stems, and Logan’s screams heightened to shrieks. One hand went to fruitlessly cover his mouth, while the other started started banging on the floor in desperation.

Roman, to his credit, didn’t tease, but he also didn’t stop tickling him, even though Logan had definitely already lost this round. What’s more, he kept going for a long time, longer than he should’ve, and had the timer really not gone off yet--?

Logan turned his head, blinking the laughter-induced tears out of his eyes as he tried to focus on the others, but all he saw was Patton smiling down at Virgil as he played with his hair. His phone sat untouched beside him.

Logan made an affronted noise through his laughter, waving an arm around to get Patton’s attention.

“Pahahat-- Patton! Timeheher!”

Patton snapped up, looking at Logan with confusion before his expression became guilty.

“Oh, gosh, was I supposed to set the timer? I’m sorry, Logan, I totally forgot!”

Roman laughed out loud at this revelation, and eased up on the tickling until he was merely skimming Logan’s soles. Virgil sat up and gave Logan a taunting grin.

“Sucks to suck, Teach,” he drawled. “It’s not Patton’s fault you’re too ticklish for this game--”

Logan’s hand shot out to grab the abandoned die on the ground, and he threw it right at Virgil.

“Virgil’s turn.”

The die hit Virgil’s chest and bounced onto the floor in front of Patton, who swooped it up with a joyous grin.

“Oh, Virgil! Look what we got!” He flipped the die over to show Virgil, who glanced at the number before doing a double take.

“What? No!” he insisted with a shaky smile. “No, we didn’t roll the die, Logan did-- no!”

Patton ignored his protests in favor of throwing him on the floor, struggling to pin him with how hard he was thrashing.

“Time for your little button!” he cooed, wrestling Virgil onto his back and straddling his hips. “Time for your little button!”

Virgil choked out a laugh, batting Patton’s hands away. “St-- stohohop-- stop!” The two scrabbled for a moment, but Patton was too quick, and in a second his pointer finger was shoved directly into Virgil’s belly button, wiggling and scratching and vibrating all at once.

“Nahahahahahaha!”

Virgil couldn’t even form words as Patton tickled his worst spot relentlessly, not even giving him any buildup to prepare for the tickly sensations. 

“A ticky ticky ticky ticky!” Patton cooed, giggling along with Virgil’s desperation. “Aw, is someone a little ticklish here? Right here in this little tickle button?”

“I think those are screams, Patton,” Logan managed through his light laughter. “He needs to cackle, remember?”

Patton hummed. “Oh, you’re right, Logan!”

He shifted so he could shove his thumb into Virgil’s belly button instead, corkscrewing it in the small hole as his other four fingers scratched and squeezed at his hypersensitive stomach. Virgil gasped for air, and his wheezing shrieks shifted into undeniable cackles.

“And there it is,” Roman announced. “Two more points for Patton!”

“What are the scores again, Roman?” Patton asked over Virgil’s laughter. Roman paused, tapping his fingers against Logan’s feet as he thought.

“I don’t remember!” he admitted. The two lers stopped, looking at their giggly, blushy lees as they let them catch their breath, Logan was covering as much of his bright red face as he could, while Virgil had gone practically boneless on the floor.

Roman and Patton shared another look, before Patton gave him a deceptively sweet grin.

“Sudden death round?”

Logan and Virgil’s eyes snapped open.

“Do not--”

“Fuck, no--”

“Fantastic idea!” Roman replied cheerfully, grabbing the die and rolling it again. “That’s a 3!”

Both he and Patton abruptly changed positions, Patton shimmying down to reach Virgil’s knees again, while Roman crawled upwards to wrap his arms around Logan’s torso.

“Pat, no-- nohohoho!” Virgil’s protests fell into helpless laughter and squeals as Patton began scurrying his fingers all over his legs before honing in on that soft skin behind his knee.

“Roman, please do not touch me!” Logan threw his head back as Roman immediately targeted his highest ribs, pinning him with his weight as the normally stoic side gasped and let out a series of embarrassingly adorable noises at the torture.

After exactly one minute, they both pulled back in unison.

“My turn!” Patton snatched up the die and dropped it again. “That’s a 2!”

He pulled himself up to latch his hands around Virgil’s sides, squeezing them haphazardly as he leaned down to nibble around his belly button. Virgil weakly pushed aganst his head, but his high pitched giggles were sapping the strength from his body.

Roman hummed in thought. “I think I’m gonna go back down here!” He grabbed Logan’s ankle, and all it took was him fluttering his fingers against the ball of Logan’s foot before he, too, was a giggly mess.

Around and around and around they went-- a 1 led Patton back to Virgil’s neck while Roman attached himself to Logan’s hips, then a 5 had both sides on their stomachs as Roman scratched all over Logan’s back and Patton spidered his hands down the backs of Virgil’s thighs. At one point, they somehow managed to roll three 4s in a row, leading to what must have been truly unbearble tickle torture for the hypersensitive lees.

After many, many more rounds, they finally decided to have mercy and call the game. Virgil was long past fighting against his laughter, and was trying his hardest to not melt directly into the floor; Logan was panting heavily, his hands weakly balled up at his sides as the last of the adrenaline left his system.

“Well,” Roman said after a few minutes of recuperation, “thoughts on the game?”

“I liked it!” Patton chirped immediately, causing Virgil to snort.

“Of course you did,” he replied. “You’re not one of the ones who almost died.”

“Figuratively died,” Logan corrected. “But... I cannot say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Roman smirked, leaning over him and pinching his cheek. “Of course you enjoyed it! You never even safeworded, because you love it so much--”

Logan swatted his hand away, cheeks pinking anew. “Yes, yes, you bragadocious victor. I assure you, when we play again I will be better prepared.”

“Who got the most points, anyway?” Virgil asked, stopping the playful fight between the others. “Like, who was the winner?”

Of course Patton had to take the chance to pull them all into a hug as he exclaimed how they were all winners, but if they were being honest, not a single one of them could disagree.

#tickling #tickle fic #tickling community #my posts #my writing #let's play a game #lee!logan #lee!virgil #ler!patton #ler!roman #sanders sides tickling #the way i didn't realize this was almost 6k words until i finished it lol #also this is not uber proofread so roast the shit outta me #edit: ok fixed a couple typos lol

[inkberrry]

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

So I had this prompt for Vehn and Gale in my inbox for over a month, but I can’t remember which ask the number correlates to, so here’s this writing without that ask. Thank you for sending it anon, if you ever see this! CW for suggestive themes and the tiniest bit of smut.

-

Gale knew the look of a man engrossed in a book. It was focused, intent, eyes locked on the page to the exclusion of all else. He had been in such a state many times himself, and Vehnrix, his gaze now and then drifting away from the tome in his lap, was far from that divine experience.

He was putting on a mostly successful performance, Gale had to admit. They had been sitting by the campfire for some time now, him going over his spells for the next day and Vehnrix studying his own. The tiefling was eager to learn, and the spark of magic that resided in him grew stronger each day, but if there was anything he wasn’t good at it, it was keeping still and reading. Gale found that out rather quickly, though it hadn’t proven too much of a distraction.

Until now.

Vehnrix’s tail, slender and long and ending in a sharp point, slid along Gale’s leg. It started by his calf, curling around his muscles. The pressure was soft at first, just a gentle, subtle touch. Gale could ignore it and continue reading, though not before shooting Vehnrix a questioning look.

He was met by the sight of the tiefling with his face down in his book. A slight curve to the corner of his lips was the only indication he knew Gale was looking at him. Smiling to himself, Gale went back to his own reading. There was much he wanted to prepare for their journey tomorrow, and without proper concentration he would never get the spells to stick in his mind.

It proved more difficult to ignore Vehnrix the longer he tried. His tail, like the rest of him, didn’t take well to staying still. It moved further up his leg, wrapping around his thigh, squeezing in and releasing. The arrowed tip edged between Gale’s legs, sliding along the soft fabric of his robes. It found entrance beneath the fabric, and when Gale felt the rough, leather like texture of it against the skin of his thigh he groaned and snapped his book shut.

“Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Hm?” Vehnrix looked up, expression as angelic and clueless as Gale had ever seen. “Doing what?”

“Your tail,” Gale answered, motioning down to where Vehnrix’s tail slipped under his robes. As if on cue, it traveled over the expanse of his inner thigh, causing another soft groan and a shiver to run down Gale’s spine.              

Vehnrix was smirking now, all innocence lost from his face. He tilted his head and watched Gale squirm, clearly enjoying the exchange.

“What about it?”

“If I’m not mistaken, and I surely am not, it’s been steadily creeping up my leg while you sit there pretending to be engrossed in that book.”        

“Pretending?” Vehnrix shifted his expression to a pout, his lips plump and entirely too enticing. It was ruse, Gale knew, but one that never failed to work. “I’m hurt, Gale. I’m trying to study.”

“You’re not trying very hard. And while I find very little sexier than a man who is intent on studying, right now that is not you.” Gale set his book aside, deciding to give Vehnrix his full attention. He wondered if that was the tiefling’s plan all along, or if he really had intended to study when they first sat down by the fire. It didn’t matter now, he supposed. All thoughts of memorizing spells were pushed far away for the night, beat out instead by the continual brushing of Vehnrix’s tail against his skin.

“Should I stop then?” Vehnrix asked, and he moved himself closer to Gale, his shoulder bumping into his, sides pressed together. The tiefling’s heat radiated out, warming Gale as much as the flames of the fire.      

“Stop pretending to study? Or stop —“ Gale’s hand reached down to drape over Vehnrix’s, guiding it from over his robes to further between his legs. “Whatever it is you’re intending to do here.”

Vehnrix grinned and followed Gale’s unspoken instructions. His tail found it’s mark — the steadily hardening form of Gale’s shaft — and curled around it. Gale shuddered, a low moan passing through his lips.

“Oh, I’m intending to get you hard,” Vehnrix said, and he brought his lips to Gale’s ear. “And then I’m intending to put this book down, slide my hand under your robes, along your thigh, and wrap my fingers around you.”

“You —” Gale started, words interrupted by another soft moan when he felt Vehnrix’s lips press to his ear. “Well you’ve already done a very excellent job at your first task.”

“Have I?”

Vehnrix grinned again, teeth flashing in the flames. Gale had only a moment to pray to Mystra that tomorrow didn’t call for the spells he now had no hope of preparing.

#my writing #oc: vehnrix #gale/oc #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #suggestive #smut

[gustafsnightangel]

A Softer Side Part 1

Karl was done with Delos Incorporated and their “Westworld”, the entire clusterfuck that had been the slice of a fictional western. Sure the pay was good, he’d thought the progression of his career would have been better, but as it turned out, they were all a bunch of computer nerds and fucking loonies playing god with AI. He was glad to see the back of that contract and sighed heavily as he stepped into his office.

“Back to the fucking grind.” He muttered as he sat at his desk, the depressing grey paint making the room appear much smaller and that much more suffocating.

It wasn’t that he hated his job, he thought as he logged into his computer to open his current case load, it just lacked excitement, something different to keep his mind sharp, his skills honed. He felt as if he was stagnating, the job had become monotonous. Bad guy fucks up, go out and catch bad guy, put bad guy in prison, watch bad guy walk on legal technicalities. If only he could be permanently attached to the private sector that caught the bad guys and shipped them off to Hades 6 or Hera 4, off planet facilities that housed the most wicked criminals.

******

Deep into catching up on a case there was a soft tap at the door. “Hey boss.”

Strand glanced up briefly and went back to the report he was reading. “Jerry.” He said his tone terse.

“I think you’re going to want to see this.” He said with a grim face.

“You think, or you know?” He growled, if there was one thing Karl hated it was indecisiveness. He was brutally honest, abrasive, and when it was called for violent. He expected people to get to the point quickly, hand over the information, and then fuck off until he needed them, never one for gossip or dancing around the topic. Most hated him for it, his boss didn’t, which was the only reason he still had a job after Westworld.

“I know.” Jerry said, finding his spine and stepping into Karl’s office and closing the door.

“Give me the short version.” Karl said as Hunt handed him the report, skimming over the highlights as Jerry told him much the same.

“It aligns with a semi cold case I’ve had on my desk for the past few months. There’s something about that one I couldn’t let go, you know?”

“I know.” He did, he had a few of them himself that he even took with him when he went over to the Delos debacle. Some just never leave you.

“I’m sure it’s the same gang as the Peter Jenson case. Location fits, state of the neighborhood etc.” Jerry fidgeted, antsy to get going.

“You want to check it out?” Karl asked and his brow furrowed at the witness account he was currently reading. Something about this called to him, there was more going on, that undeniable itch between the shoulder blades he couldn’t ignore.

“If you clear it yeah I wanna go poke around.” Jerry said with a touch more confidence. He was a good kid even though he was still so rookie green.

“I’ll come with.” He growled, slightly distracted as he pulled up one of his own cold cases.

“Something chimed for you too didn’t it?” Jerry smirked.

“Maybe, and that’s a big maybe. We all have cold cases Jerry and we have to go where the gut feelings take us.” He opened the file and flipped through to the infants description even though he knew it by heart as if the child had been right in front of him, not that she’d look anything like it now thirty plus years later. “Get your coat.” He breathed. Could it be her? “And wipe that damn smile off your face this isn’t a fucking social visit.” The rookie’s face dropped as he scurried away to collect his coat and notebook. “Talk to me sweet girl.” He murmured. “I’m looking for you, I haven’t given up, talk to me.” Closing out his case file he grabbed his weapon and coat and headed for the elevator. He was in a mood, she always put him in a mood, and the kid had copped it. “Sorry.” He said gruffly as they stood in the elevator.

“Sok, I was an idiot and you were right. This isn’t a social visit.” Jerry mumbled.

Karl stared at the ceiling and sighed to clear his head, he’d have to knock the green off this kid fast if he was going to make it past his first year as his partner. “You know they stuck you with an asshole of a partner right?”

“No, they stuck me with the best.” Hunt said quietly as he strode off the elevator toward their car leaving Strand standing there in slight disbelief.

“Well shit!” Muttering he walked to the car, his long strides eating up the concrete, he didn’t like compliments either. He wasn’t the best, far from it, he was an asshole and preferred it that way.

******

The car ride to the house was quiet, Karl driving while Jerry ran a cursory search over the tenant and told him what they could expect.

“A Mr. Arthur Donovan lives in the house alone, has always lived there alone since his wife died in childbirth. Damn that’s rough.”

“Dig into Mr. Donovan.” He growled as the traffic came to a standstill. “Priors, arrests, blips, fucking everything. I want to know what he had for breakfast three years ago on April 22.” The itch between his blades was tingling. What were they walking into a trap, fire fight, bomb? Something was off.

“Your spidey senses tingling boss?” Jerry asked as his fingers flew across the keys.

“My what?” He glared at the rookie.

“Spidey senses, you know, Spider-Man.” Jerry dropped it once he saw the murderous look on Strand’s face. “Never mind.” He sighed. “Mr. Arthur Donovan, age 64, retired janitor at multiple women’s and children’s hospitals. That must have been rough after his wife died.”

“Same work history, different name. And that’s if he even had a wife.” Karl muttered, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Check the wife.”

“Wife, Aileen Donovan, wow pretty girl, died giving birth to a baby girl who also died, she was 27.” Jerry stopped and looked at Strand. “Wait, you think this is him? The dude that’s been kidnapping infant girls for the last thirty something years and raising them up to be sold?” Jerry’s voice caught.

“If the shoe fits.” Karl snarled as the traffic eased forward at a snails pace. It fit, a little too well and why would he go back to his real name, or was he changing the name of his wife along with it all?

“That’s one of your colds isn’t it?” The kids voice was gentle.

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, how could he tell this kid that thought he was a god among men that he’d almost had the guy and watched him skate, slip through the net he’d cast because he was still too green himself to know any better.

“Shit boss. This makes my gang banger case look like nothing.” Hunt said quietly. “They’ve been after that guy for decades.”

“It isn’t nothing, you follow all leads, you do the job, you pursue every possible angle. My cold case isn’t anymore important than you fresh one. They both matter.” Snarling at the traffic Karl flicked on the lights, pulled onto the verge and got them out of the jam. It wasn’t exactly by the book and at times Karl didn’t give a shit, especially when he might be close to finding her.

******

They pulled up out the front of Arthur Donovan’s house and sat for a hot minute. Karl scanned the area taking note of the exits, neighbors, foot traffic and lack there of.

“You just know he has to have an escape plan.” He muttered more to himself than to Jerry. “Go knock on the door and ask your questions. If it’s the same guy he might know what I look like and I don’t want him spooked.” He said lowering the seat back so he wouldn’t be seen if Arthur looked in the car. “Call my cell and leave the line open. And before you ask, no this isn’t standard operating procedure. I don’t want him to rabbit if he smells something off. Go in ask your questions about your case only.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it Jerry. You say anything about those kids, that case we may lose the first fresh lead we’ve had in nearly twenty years.” He glared at the kid.

“Message received boss.”

“Get your head in the Peter Jensen case, that’s where it needs to be.”

Strand watched as the kid dialed his cell number and climb out of the car. Placing his call on mute he relaxed back and let the case filter through his mind. “Don’t blow this for me kid.” He sighed. Was she in there, he wondered, was she even still alive? “Yeah she’s still alive.” He sighed as he heard the knock on the door through the cell phone. “She was his first, she has to still be alive.” Karl listened to Jerry ask his questions, press for some details, and leave it at a ’were just door knocking for any information on Peter Jensen’. Karl would have pushed a little harder, but that was Karl, he was a hard ass and would make a stone cower given enough time.

“Is he watching?” Strand asked as Jerry got into the car.

“Yeah, it spooked him. I’m sorry.”

“You did good kid. Now we go back to the office and dig. I want fucking everything on this guy and how it correlates to those girls. Something’s fucking off.”

“It felt like it when I was standing there. An odd sense something wasn’t quite right.”

“Learn to take note of those feelings, they’re rarely wrong. If he’s not involved with my case or yours, he’s involved in something he shouldn’t be.” Karl looked at the kid. “He still watching?”

“Not that I can see without it being obvious. The curtains are flat and still.” He said typing furiously to get his notes into his report while they were fresh.

“Good enough.” Karl raised his seat, turned the key in the ignition, and drove off barely giving anyone looking in the car enough time to be sure it was him driving. “When we get back write up your report on Jensen and then read the file on Jane Doe 69384.”

“Your cold?”

“Yeah, we need to dig and dig deep, you want in?”

“Fuck yeah.” Jerry was all but vibrating in his seat. “I know some of it from the news reports.”

“Not all of it kid, there was a lot we left out, deliberately.” He set the car to cruise and relaxed back. “Read the file, then we’ll talk. This gets our attention until we run out of leads again or catch the son of a bitch.”

“We catch him this time.” Jerry said gently. “This time he goes away.”

The kids sentiment choked Karl up, this case had him by the balls. If only I had your faith in me kid, he thought inwardly. I’ve failed her so many times now I’ve lost count.

“Does it keep you awake at night?” Jerry asked.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, the kid didn’t need his nightmares, he would have ones of his own soon enough.

******

Strand left Jerry to do as he’d instructed and headed into his office to start digging into Arthur Donovan. Jerry had sent him over everything he’d found on their drive over to Donovan’s and it set that itch alight as he scanned the hospitals he’d worked at. “You fucker.” He seethed. “You careful fucker.” The hospitals didn’t match while he was working there, the timeline was off for each snatch by two or three months after he’d moved on. “No way was it going to be that easy.” He poured over the entire case file, witness reports from the mothers, hospital staff, forensic evidence, which wasn’t much, and it was tugging on heartstrings no one knew he had. Karl Strand was a hard ass, he didn’t have heart strings, except for her, except for these poor girls that had been snatched from loving parents and used and abused before being sold like cattle. Yes he had fucking heart strings for them and a raging hatred for the man that had eluded him for so long.

Jerry knocked on his door and handed him the report on the Jensen case and looked at the twelve banker boxes of files stacked in the corner of Strand’s office. “Can I take one?”

“Sure. Each box holds about ten case files.”

“He’s taken that many?” The rookie visibly blanched.

“Yeah, he’s slowed down in the past few years. I used to get about three new cases a year before I left for that Westworld shithole. I’m hoping it stays quiet and we don’t have to add anymore.”

“Hard fucking same.” Jerry hesitated before placing a hand on one of the boxes, the kid had respect for the dead, that was what endeared him to Karl. They weren’t just case files or a job, they were people.

“Their stories aren’t pretty.”

“No, I imagine not. Did they ever find the ones that were sold?”

“No, were still looking.” Karl’s tone was flat, something else he’d failed at. Though it was difficult to find someone when you knew nothing about them or what they looked like. “The DB’s are likely related, there’s no way to be sure until we have him in a cage and put the thumb screws to him.”

“Who are you looking for?” He asked tentatively.

“His first.”

“Makes sense.”

“How so?” It intrigued him that the rookie would say that.

“Pedifiles, sex rings, human trafficking, the perpetrators almost always keep their first one close. It reminds them of the power they have, the ease at which they achieved abducting the person. It’s also, most of the time, their undoing. If you find her she’s going to know everything about every child that he stole, every in and out of his operation. She’s the linchpin.”

Spoken like a thirty year veteran, Karl thought. “You’ll do.” He said nodding. “You’ll do just fine kid.” The slight smile told Strand, Jerry was keeping his jubilation at being praised to a minimum, the kid was trying. “Book a conference room, set it up, get reading, I’ll be in shortly. We work this until it goes cold again or we nail this asshole.”

“I’m down with that boss.” Jerry stopped at the door before he went through it and turned to Karl.

“What is it?”

“Do you think the neighbors might have seen her?” He asked meekly.

“I doubt it, but we’ll certainly be asking when we canvas.” He nodded his head to Jerry to say get out and went back to his own report to Meekland.

An hour or so later Meekland knocked on Strands door. “Ma’am.” He offered a seat but she remained standing, that glint in her eye that she wasn’t in the mood for bullshit.

“You’re testing my patients Strand. Do you really have time to open this case, again?” She asked. Meekland wasn’t some girly girl, she was just as much a hard ass as Strand which was why they go along so well even if it was just sniping at each other. The reality of it they were oil and water.

“I do with Hunt. Somethings off. The kid has good instincts and even he knew something’s screwy when he interviewed Donovan. I’m not saying it’s him, but it damn well could be and I’m not letting it slide because you think I don’t have time. I’ll fucking make time, do it on my own if I have to, but I need to run this out. See where it leads.” He ran his hand over his scalp. “I have to fucking try.”

“Cross you t’s, dot your i’s, and send me a report once you’ve dug into it a bit. I can’t promise you resources, but plead your case and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I have resources if you can’t swing it.” He growled.

“I know you do, but let’s not go that far until we have no other choice.” She studied him a moment. “You’re a good man Strand, even if you are a prickly asshole.” She smirked at his huffed chuckle, that coming from her was as good as winning employee of the year award. “Keep me in the loop.” She said as she turned on her heel and left.

******

Karl walked into the smaller conference room a while later to see Jerry kicked back with a coffee, feet on the table, note pad and case files piled into sections. Maybe a fresh set of eyes was what this case needed he thought.

“Hey boss.” He said without looking up from the current file he had his nose buried in, hand scrawling notes of his own.

“Care to explain what you’re doing with my case files?” He growled.

Without missing a beat he stood and added the file in his hand to one of the stacks. “So I’ve gone through your notes from when these cases came in, the hospitals, as that seemed a good place to start. It’s related to the case more strongly than his name or residence. Each stack is each hospital he abducted children from. There’s one pattern that fits all of these hospitals, the first child was stolen on the date his wife and child died. He only takes girls and there is about a two to three month window where the girls go missing which if I were to guess would be the wife’s birthday and their anniversary. Only three kids per hospital, then he packs up and leaves.”

“But the girls go missing after he finished his employment at each hospital. For example he was in Atlanta working when the girls from Alabama went missing.” Karl pushed.

“I’m guessing he has a house somewhere where he can leave the kids with someone so he can scout the next location.”

“That’s a leap Hunt.”

“I know but...” He shrugged as Karl stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the board.

“It’s a leap I didn’t see.” He sighed. “Run it through, work it, see where it leads you. I wonder if he leaves them with the first girl?” He pondered. “She’d be mid thirties now at least.”

“Brainwashed, tortured, and raised by a monster.” Jerry muttered.

“Indeed. Keep working it, I’ll be back in a few.” He needed some air, and food. Maybe I’m too close, he thought as he stopped off at the burger joint down the street. The memory of the kids mother screaming, grieving in his arms as she begged him to find her, the stupid rookie in him promising her he’d do so. The infant had already been gone sixteen years when he was handed the case, many more had been stolen in that time, the cops too busy to listen to a hysterical mother. The investigation went cold and it was only after the mother visited him to see if there were any developments that he began to dig, on his own time, every night an hour after shift had finished. That’s when he’d uncovered more, when he’d found the details horrific enough to churn even his iron stomach. No one had listened to the mother of the first child taken. She’d been told she was delusional, she was depressed, she was mistaken. Karl had been the one to bust it wide open. Bust it open to watch it go stone fucking cold as things in the department were kept under wraps, swept under the rug, buried. He’d always wondered if it was an inside job or some of the people here were in on it.

That girl would be a few years younger than he was now, mid to late thirties. What do you look like, he wondered? Will I know you when I meet you? Will you help me take this asshole down or has he corrupted you so completely you’ll do anything to get back to him, protect him? “We have to find you first sweet girl.” He muttered as he got onto the elevator. “I will find you.” He swore.

******

Strand came into the conference room to find Jerry in the exact same position as before but with a laptop open and currently searching through a database of some kind.

“Fuel up kid.” He said gruffly and tossed the bag with a burger and fries on the only section of table that wasn’t covered by case files. “Keep the files clean.”

“Thanks.” He blew out a breath, grabbed the food and pushed his chair away from the table to give himself some room. They chowed down in silence and it was only after Jerry had finished and took a few deep breaths that he noticed Strand looking at him.

“You need to get some rack time, if you don’t come up for air it’ll consume you.” Karl said honestly.

“In a bit. I want to show you something.” He pressed a few keys on the laptop and walked Strand through his findings. “I had to dig for info on the wife, I don’t think Donovan’s his legal last name and I don’t think the wife had the child in a hospital. If they did it would be on record. Either that or he’s been changing it as he’s progressed, something along the lines of keeping her alive or with him maybe? Which tells me he either knows how to hack, or he’s got someone on the payroll to do it for him. Speaking of payroll, I want to dig for the money, how much to you think he makes per girl?”

“Six figures at least depending on the buyer.” Strand said flatly, it wasn’t a favorite topic of conversation, but he could see where the kid was going with this, they were dealing with a syndicate not just a lone operator. Something he’d floated past his old partner and it was dismissed just as quickly, that had sparked his curiosity at it being an inside job.

“I think it’s more than that. 120 girls in these boxes at let’s say $100K and change, that’s 12 mil, over thirty something years. It’s a drop in the bucket. I think we’re looking at closer to $800K to a mil per kid, maybe more, and I also think it depends of who they’re going to and at what age they’re sold at.” Jerry wasn’t smiling now.

“Experience and age.” He added bluntly.

“Yeah.” Jerry blew a breath out. “I can sniff through Donovan’s accounts, but I don’t know if I have enough for a warrant to cover my ass.”

“Not yet but we’ll add it to the list.” He tapped his finger on his knee thinking. “Go as deep into the financials as you can without sending up any red flags, keep in on the down low.”

Jerry nodded. “I also believe there are more kids we don’t know about.”

“Why do you say that?”

“A hunch. Three kids a year, ish. Those are the groomed ones, the ones raised to be, for a lack of a better term, a fuck toy for some sicko. Those would be the premium priced merchandise. How do they make their milk money? The day to day?”

“Fuck! You’ve got a point.” Strand stared at the board, why hadn’t he pushed this line of inquiry all those years ago? Now he really felt like an asshole.

“I’m running all homeless girls and kidnappings in the database against dates and places of each infant taken.”

“And?”

“We’re getting hits and it’s still not done.” He glanced at Karl. “I have no clue if they’re related to this case but it’s worth a look.”

“Damn right it’s worth a look.” He was angry at himself for not pushing it sooner. Pulling out his phone he called Meekland. She wasn’t happy at being disturbed at nine at night but that was the job. He laid it out for her and she agreed to come in for a briefing. “What else you got kid, you’re keeping the ace to yourself I can see it.”

“I think he’ll strike again, and soon.” Jerry blew out.

“He hasn’t in a few years what makes you so sure?”

“I think he may have been sick or taking a break, something happened to give him that gap. Retired and took a holiday? Maybe things were too hot? Think about it, his kids birthday is coming up. I have no record of an Arthur Donovan working at any hospitals in the last forever. He’s changed his name again, maybe he changed his supply source? I don’t know boss I’m just thinking out loud here.”

“Where’s he working?”

“That’s the thing, he’s not, he’s retired.”

“Still doesn’t stop him from taking babies.” Strand spat. “And what’s the bet he had different aliases for every day of the fucking week? This guys a ghost.”

“Which is why we need a warrant to dig into his financials and employment records of each hospital. He can change his name but his face is a different story. Facial recognition can pin him pretty solidly.”

“This had better be fucking worth dragging me back here Strand.” Meekland snapped as she walked in.

“Sit down Sarah and listen to the kid, don’t interrupt.” He snapped back. Jerry froze, talking to Karl was one thing but the boss lady, shit! Her arched eyebrow made Jerry gulp. “Go ahead Hunt.” Karl said his eyes never leaving hers.

Jerry gave Meekland the report almost verbatim.

“We need a warrant for what we’ve found and what we’re going to find when we keep digging.”

“Dig first, then the warrant.” She put up her hand. “You and I both know we don’t have enough for one right now. Get me more Jerry and you’ll get your warrant. It’s circumstantial at best but it has weight. Let’s tighten the grip before we spook him.”

“Stakeout.” Karl demanded. “I want him fucking tagged and monitored, I want to know his every fucking move even if I have to go do it myself.”

“You may have to, we don’t have the budget for this Karl.” She snapped. Was she fucking stonewalling him?

“Then I’ll do it on my own time Sarah. I’m not losing the one fucking lead we’ve got.” He snapped and stormed from the room toward his office, Meekland hot on his heels. Jerry was left in their wake and breathed out carefully before getting back to it.

“What is with you?” He raged as she closed his office door.

“What’s with me? You need to take a step back and think about who you’re addressing Strand.” She shot back.

“Don’t throw that in my face Sarah. Why do you fucking stonewall me at every turn on this, they’re solid leads.”

“Because you’re too close to this Karl and it’s consuming you. Yes they’re solid leads I’ll give you and Hunt that. It’s more than what we’ve had to go on in a long time, but we need more and you know it.”

“Then give me some surveillance and let me get it for you.” He snarled and snatched his head away as she went to touch him. He couldn’t get involved with her again, although his body yearned for it, his cock twitching.

“You and I need a good sweaty night together.” She purred, her fingers trailing the buttons of his dress shirt. “I’ve missed you.” He didn’t pull away this time as her fingers trailed his chest.

“You’ve missed my cock.” He quipped, the scent of her stirring his system.

Her smirk told him as much. “That too.”

His fingers gripped her chin firmly and he devoured that lush mouth, taking what he wanted. He’d missed her too, her taste, the feel of her around him. She was bad news, but he had little restraint when it came to her.

“Let me make you feel good sir.” She whispered, her hand dropping to palm his hardening length, her eyes searching his for approval.

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.”

He let her chin go and walked over to check it himself. This wasn’t the first or last time they’d do this here. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, strictly sex, no attachment, consensual. He’d never done anything she was uncomfortable with. Crooking his finger at her to come hither she did without question and sank to her knees as he pointed to the floor in front of him.

“There’s my good girl.” He growled, her eyes never leaving his. She was hungry for him, the desire in her eyes making him smirk. “On your knees.” Unzipping his suit pants he let them fall to the floor, his briefs following a moment later as she sank to her knees, eyes never leaving his. “Open.” He commanded quietly and watched as those perfect lips opened for him. He gave her the tip, that clever tongue darting out to lick and suck him, the sensation making him groan softly, fuck she felt good. It had been far too long. Sinking his fingers into her hair he fisted them there and plunged into her mouth. She never disappointed him, taking him all the way in and letting him fuck that pretty mouth as he wished. His hips pistoned hard until he was right on the edge of blowing his load and then pulled her off him, the slight whimper of disappointment echoed on her face. “You’ll get it all little one.” He growled. “Up.” He commanded and held out a hand for her to rise.

Turning them sharply he pinned her against the wall, her ass pressing into his erection. “We haven’t done it like this for a while.” He purred as he put her hands above her head against the wall and nipped her neck. “Is this what you want little one?”

“I want to make you feel good sir.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” He snarled, pinching her nipple painfully through her blouse as he bit her neck. “Is this what you want?” His fingers busy between her legs, stroking into her heat as the other cupped a breast harshly.

“Yes sir.” She moaned softly as his fingers moved her panties to the side and hiked her skirt up more to bunch at her waist. He moaned his approval at the thigh high stockings and suspenders and snapped them hard. Her small yelp making him grin.

“Spread your legs and drop your hips.” He murmured, the tone demanding her compliance. Taking a small step back from her, she did as she was instructed as he stroked his cock. He swiped his tip through her heat and circled her entrance, the soft whimpers making him harder. “Are you going to take all of me like a good girl?” He asked as he stood between her open thighs and snaked his hands under her shirt.

“Yes sir.” Came her breathy whisper.

His hands yanked down the bra until the straps dug into her shoulders and his hands were filled with her fleshy breasts. Fingers squeezed her nipples and rolled them as he inched inside her, the feel of her tight pussy enveloping him almost too much to bear. Once fully seated inside her he feasted on her neck as he thrust. He wasn’t a gentle lover, he liked it rough and hard, skating the dangerous line between pleasure and pain.

He gave her what she asked for, took what he wanted. Pounding into her with long deep strokes, his hand snaked up to grip her throat, the gentle squeeze his branding of her. “Mine.” He growled at her ear, that gravelly tone rumbling out of him.

“Please sir.” She whispered as her orgasm peaked.

“Please sir what?” He snapped, reminding her of who she was talking to.

“Please sir may I come?”

“No.” He wasn’t ready for it to end yet and continued to fuck her, taking his fill of her tight little pussy.

“Please sir.” She choked as she fought to hold it off.

“No.” He pounded into her, took her, claimed her. Her whimper turned into a soft cry as his finger moved from her nipple to her clit, the hand at her throat squeezing slightly harder. He felt her body tense, the internal fight to hold off her orgasm. Letting it ride for a few moments longer he nipped her ear before uttering the one command she desperately wanted. “Come.” He growled and she exploded around him, that tight pussy milking him as he pistoned his hips in fast hard strokes until he came. Riding her hard, the need to fuck to prolong their pleasure he pistoned his hips.

“Thank you sir.” She smirked and he slapped her ass.

“Don’t sass me.” His tone low and savage as he pressed her to the wall hard still inside her as they caught their breath.

“Come over this weekend, please? I miss you.” She said as they stood there.

“I can’t Sarah, you know we can’t.”

“Why because I’m your boss?” She played.

“That’s exactly why and you know it.” He scoffed and pulled out of her, the soft whimper from his exit made him smile. Straightening her panties he lowered her skirt over her hips and pulled his briefs and suit pants up. “It’s just sex Sarah, you know that too.”

Turning she rested against the wall while she tidied herself up. “I know, I just want a weekend where we can disappear and you can fuck my brains out.”

“Not right now.” There was too much going on. “This case is my priority.”

“Understood. I’m here when you need to blow off steam Karl. Thanks for the quick fuck, it’s what I needed.” She straightened his shirt collar and headed for the door, the gleam in her eyes telling him she wasn’t happy about being denied. “You get a week surveillance, not a second more, use it wisely. The rest is on your own time.”

“Copy that.” He smirked, who said screwing the boss didn’t get you anywhere.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden

#Karl Strand fanfic #a softer side #gustaf skarsgard #sexy as fuck #all the feels

[najoah]

First Chance [Chapter 3]

"You used to live in Malaysia too, right?"

I looked into his brown eyes for the first time as I nod. "Yes, 12 years."

"What? That's crazy," Kyu was smiling, his eyes wide in excitement. "How come we've never met in Malaysia? I thought the Korean community was small."

My first night in Korea was marked with a warm and humid weather, the weather I was used to in Kuala Lumpur. Back home, I would have retired to my air-conditioned bedroom at this hour but tonight, I welcomed the humidity with open arms. This land, despite it being my mother's homeland, felt so foreign to me and I craved for anything that would remind me of the place I grew up in.

Luck was definitely not on my side today, as I found myself to be the only student from Malaysia enrolling this semester. I had hoped to find other Malaysian students at this morning's orientation but to no avail. Everyone else had no trouble making friends, and I watch them in envy – envy of a life without crippling anxiety.

Mom had called earlier, after the orientation. Worry laced her tone when I told her I would be eating dinner alone. I assured her I was fine, and that everyone is suffering the same fate at this new place. After a vomit of assuring words from my dear mother, she encouraged me to go to the nearest town and get myself a Korean phone number. "That way, you can make friends easier." Despite the lack of correlation, I heeded to her request.

While the thought of speaking in Korean at the mobile service store filled me with dread, Kakao Maps told me that I would have twenty or so minutes to build up the courage. But convincing myself that I would be okay was my demise as I found myself stranded in the middle of an empty campus town. Panicking, I looked for the nearest bus station through the app. My eyes were blurry from the adrenaline and before I fall into a full-blown panic attack, someone tapped me on the shoulder.

"You're with Yonsei right?" He asked in English.

I let out a huge sigh of relief as I turned to face the owner of the voice. "Yes," I nodded.

The owner of the voice was of a boy I've never seen before. Dressed casually in a short-sleeved tee and shorts, he was just around my height. His eyes were kind and comforting but the smile that carved his lip is the one that calmed me down.

He held out his hand. "I'm Baek Hyunkyu," he said, "but you can just call me Kyu."

"I'm Jo Ahna." I took my hand after shaking his and quietly wiped it at the back of my pants – praying that maybe this time, my minor panic attack did not leave my palm sweaty as it often does. "Did I see you at the orientation earlier? I'm sorry if I did, I'm just really bad with names and faces," rambling I kept my eyes to his forehead. It's a trick I learned after years of suffering from anxiety – avoid the eyes, and look at the forehead. It will look like you're looking at them.

"Actually," he replied, "we haven't met before."

"Oh." I said, confused.

"My roommate was at the orientation earlier, though," he explained. "He told me about you. You used to live in Malaysia too, right?"

"Kyu," I whispered, barely audible to the ear.

The moment I looked into his eyes, a familiar throbbing pain made itself known internally. The throbbing pain I thought I had left behind.

He smiled, the same smile from that night ten years ago. The same smile that had embedded itself into my brain. The same smile I see every night, before I close my eyes. The same smile I see when I open them in the morning. The same smile that had brought as much delight as it does torment.

He made a bold step forward, his arms stretching into a hug. I took a step back instinctively, my arms folding in front of my chest.

Kyu stared at my defensive stance, his face visibly hurt. "Ahna," he called hesitantly, "What's going on?"

"I – uh – I have to get to work," I mumbled, frantically grabbing my bag from the table. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Avoiding his eyes, I head to the door but was stopped in my tracks when his hand reached for my wrist. "Jo Ahna, don't run from me."

My heart dropped to the floor upon hearing his pleading voice. The throbbing pain amplified and breathing became a conscious decision. Pull it together, Joah. Pull it together. I pulled my wrist away, turning around to look at him. "I'm not running away," I said in a tone I hoped was calm. "I just really have to go."

Before he could utter a response, I sprinted out of the café – wishing I never came in the first place.

I had avoided Hongdae for a long time. Everything in this town is tainted with memories of us – memories I've been trying to forget. Memories I wish never existed. Panting, I placed my head on the steering wheel as I try to catch my breath.

Foolishly, I thought I was getting better. It's been three years since I last saw him but the moment I saw him again, it's like nothing has changed. I was still that girl, hopelessly in love with those deep set of eyes. Shivers still ran down my spine when his lips uttered my name.

He had tainted it. He had tainted my name, the places I loved and... me. He has consumed every part of me, and the past three years were spent trying to reclaim myself back. I introduced myself as Joah, I moved to another part of Seoul, I cut off contact with our mutual friends to distant myself. I was getting better, I really was. I don't go into panic attacks whenever I think of him anymore. I come down to Hongdae sometimes. I dated, hoping to find love behind another set of brown eyes.

But nothing has changed.

I pulled out a cigarette box from the glove compartment. My therapist would have a fit if she knew, but I needed a quick release. I turned on the car engine, rolled down the window and drove off with it between my lips.

#got7 imagines #jay b #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #got7 angst #got7 #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

[polymathemawrites]

Restart in Recovery Mode Chapter One

Cw: mentions of past suicide, gore, ptsd, severe trauma, depictions of injuries, drugs

Gordon begins recovering from Black Mesa, not that he’s aware that’s whats happening

4 Hours after Xen

Gordon is contemplating the tangled mess of his hair in his bathroom mirror. He'd had to cut the hair band out and with it had come a mess of dried-blood clumps and tangled hair. This is the last step before he can wash Xen off of him, wash Black Mesa clean from his skin. He's already pried himself out of the HEV suit, each excruciating piece after the other taking more time than the last as he'd gone from extremities to core.

The morphine injection site is a mottled bruised red from the sheer amount of drug the suit had been pumping into his system and it's a brilliant collar that rings his neck. It's the last thing his eyes focus on and the last thing that is sharp clarity when he takes his glasses off and carefully places them on the bathroom countertop. The spray is hard and hot and he closes his eyes against it and lets his body shift sideways till his weight is held up by the frankly freezing shower wall but he doesn't have the energy or ability to keep himself upright long enough for the arduous task of scrubbing away days of trauma. So it's the cold tile wall and the water running down the drain tinged red and slow mechanical movements.

He can't see them clearly for shit, but each swipe of the ragged washcloth reveals new bruises. The HEV suit had clearly kept him alive but at a toll he should have been recovering from in a hospital instead of his rent-past-due apartment.

Fuck that, he wasn't going to a hospital where the government could track him down and put a bullet in his brain.

Predictably it wasn't the state of his body that was the most arduous task to clean up but his hair. Matted up blood, viscera he couldn't even hazard a guess as to the source of, and torn strands all made their way down to the drain to clog it up for Future Gordon to deal with.

Stretching his hands, his hands fuck, both of them God, stretching his fingers through slowly untangling strands felt like literal euphoria. Almost as good at the first hit of morphine from the suit. Which fuck, that wasn't a pleasant correlation to make actually, was that going to be a problem for Future Gordon too? Had he managed to get himself dependent on morphine too?

A week wasn't enough to give him withdrawals most likely, and as the last big mat gave way so did the tangle of his thoughts. The water felt so good, just having something touching his skin that wasn't the skin tight pressure of the HEV suit, to feel the movement and sharp sting of air against him. None of the others had been very tactile and Gordon well, he was, is. Just the sensation of his own hands, of the brush of the cloth over his skin is enough to nearly bring him to tears. Finally managing to wash his hair does, and he cries silently, hanging his head under the fall of water.

He's safe, but he's not safe, he isn't sure he'll ever feel or be safe again. But this is enough for now, this singular moment in time where it is him, heat, silence. Joshua is with his sister in Arizona for the summer, he's safe and far away from Gordon and the mess he's made of his life.

He doesn't bother with a towel, he doesn't have the physical strength to prop himself up long enough to dry himself. Instead he crawls into his bed, wet hair on the pillows as if he could give a single fuck because it's an actual pillow, it's his pillow in his bed, in the relative quiet of his suburban neighborhood apartment in this small not-so-gated community.

Before he's even fully stretched out on the bed the thick scrambling fingers of sleep are reaching up to pull him down. Thick as gossamer, tangling and tugging on his consciousness. There is a moment of strange deja vu as the last thing his blurry eyes register is not the pain-red-brown-green of the bruising of his jugular but a faintly pleasant and nigglingly familiar blue. Sleep has a stranglehold on him and he's down before the slow caress of a hand down the bare expanse of his spine can even register.

18 hours after Xen

Gordon wakes up extremely dehydrated, his head throbbing, stumbling to the bathroom finds the rest of his body is a mess of similar aches and pains. When he's swallowing naproxen via handfuls of water brought from the tap to his mouth by cupped hands, he manages to catch sight of his blurry reflection in the mirror.

After putting on his glasses he finds he sort of wishes he hadn't. He looks in the words of a dead extraterrestrial or somefuck entity, a bit shit. He feels worse than he looks. His stomach is threatening to eat itself, his throat is dry, his skin is simultaneously on fire and numb. His nude form is absolutely painted with bruises.

In the bright mid-day light coming in through the frosted glass of the bathroom window he can make out the faintest ring of scar tissue around the circumference of his right arm. While walking around his apartment naked had been the first thing a young adult Gordon Freeman had done when he rented his first apartment solo, he was begining to feel entirely too underdressed and unshielded. After finally getting the damned thing off, not having the thick layers of insulation protecting him against the rest of the world made him feel naked even with the pullover and slacks he pulled on. Summer in New Mexico wasn't a pleasant season to be pulling on a cardigan but he pushed up the AC to compensate, the sound of the overhead vents pushing out recycled air was familiar in a nausteating way.

When he was stuck in Black Mesa all he could think about was getting out, getting free, breathing the sun-baked air of the outside world. Standing now in his living room he could not fathom the idea of going outside. Loud, uncompromising, dangerous. He needed therapy, probably way more help than even therapy, he needed a bleached brain. This wasn't like walking in to the garage to find his father in the family van, brain matter splattered on the driver-side window from where he'd shot himself in the head. This wasn't like the years of moving and pulling up roots, of never making friends for longer than a few months, this was so much more, so much thicker.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, and the quiet is closing in on him, the sound of the AC isn't enough, his own breathing is going fast, his heart feels like a violent creature burrowing into his chest, he's sweating and cold all at the same time. He probably bruises his pelvis slamming against the kitchen counter in front of the wall-mounted telephone but whats one more bruise to a body full of them. His hands scramble against the receiver and the number pad, the dialtone is the counterpoint to his mental breakdown.

"Hello, this is Tommy Coolatta!"

"T-tommy, hey, hey bud it's, it's Gordon." "Hello Mr. Freeman! It's so good to hear from you!" In the background there is a bark, Sunkist.

Gordon bends double against the counter till his forehead hits the faux marble, cool sinking into his skin, he laughs short shaky sounds, his heartrate crescendos, a cresting wave, it feels like rapture when it drops.

"Hey, how are you, how are you doing?" Please don't ask it back, he's not sure how he could even respond, he doesn't know.

“I’m really good! I was about to take Sunkist to the dog park, would you like to come?”

He doesn’t think his nerves can stand it but he says yes anyway.

#hlvrai

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober -  Unconscious

Veg-notables:   For whumptober. I’m doing this out of order and I don’t know how much I am going to be able to produce for this but I am going to give it a go..  Thanks to @gumnut-logic for all her help.  She beta read this for me and enlightened me about my subject matter.   You rock!  

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning:   Just a heads up for migraine sufferers this post deals with them. 

Characters:  K/V, Scott

Whumptober - TaG universe 

10. Unconscious

Enjoy...

oOo

The silence in the cockpit of Two was a drastic contrast to the days events. It was almost numbing in its entirety and the muteness in comparison to the past forty-eight hours sent a shiver of discomfort down Virgil’s spine.  

As the adrenaline ebbed and drained away a twitchy feeling settled over his tired frame. He scrubbed angrily at his face and roughly sank his hands into his jet black hair, leaving it in complete disarray.  

Slumping back in his seat, tired brown eyes glanced over the displays and absently took note of the post flight checks. Just a few more minutes and the data would be uploaded to the island servers leaving him free to debrief, shower and hopefully fall into the much needed oblivion of sleep that his body seriously craved.

Watching the information continue to scroll across the screen as the program verified each of Two’s systems, Virgil felt an even deeper lethargy settle over him and he allowed his head to fall back on the padded rest.  

Call outs had been on an uptick lately and Virgil was having a hard time remembering when he’d last managed to a solid eight hours of rack time or even when he’d had a full meal.  Trying to recollect the last thing he’d consumed; other than coffee and stim’ tabs, had a sudden stab of pain flare in his temple.

Clenching his lids tight against the agony as the overhead control panel blurred out, he flung his arm across his face and buried his head in the crook of his elbow. Effectively blocking out and hiding from the glare of the panels around him that seemed to be lighting the place up brighter than the sun.

Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it out his nose, he waited for the discomfort that had started to throb through his head to subside to a manageable level. In. Out. In. Out, repeat.  The pain didn’t abate in the slightest but grew in intensity.

Rubbing at the growing ache, he hissed out a curse as his comms pinged with an incoming transmission.  Forcing his posture upright, he plastered an acceptable expression on his face and flicked the line open, praying that it wasn’t another mission.   

“Hey Scott, what up?” 

The holo of his eldest brother floating blue and transparent above the control console frowned at him. “You coming up?” Virgil blinked a couple times as the image before him doubled and shifted back again. 

Virgil gave a nod and held back a wince as the movement of his skull drove a railroad spike through his cerebral cortex. Quickly schooling his features and hoping the eagle eyes of his brother hadn’t noticed, he flicked a few random switches. “Ya, just finishing up the post flight.  Had an odd reading from the aft thruster and had to run additional diagnostics. Be up in five.” 

“Okay,”  His brother replied back but didn’t sign off.  He hung there, arms crossed a moment and the intake a breath told Virgil that the commander of iR was suspicious.  “V, you okay?”  

Virgil cursed to himself as an aura flared in the corner of his eye,  “Ya, I’m good. Long day” He added a casual shrug before continuing.  “Almost done, meet you in the lounge in a few.” He forced a smile he hoped would reassure his brother that he was just busy and closed the line down.    

As the muted light of the holo dissipated Virgil all but folded in half, head dropping into his hands with a groan.  Biting back the nausea that started rolling his stomach and swallowing as his mouth started to salivate, Virgil fought his gag reflex and gruffly ordered the sun shade down over the view screen, plunging the cabin into darkness.  “Fuck..”  He moaned out, pressing his fingers into his eyes as the world went sideways. 

8-8-8

Scott sat back in his father’s desk chair and frowned as he watched the time tick by on the open data screen that was scrolling stock market details in front of him.   Something felt off,  he knew  his brothers were tired and worn from yet another rescue. They’d been busier than normal lately and it was started to wear but his big brother senses were tingling.

Fingers steepled, his frown grew as another minute past and still there was no sign of his Second.   Sitting up, he flicked the statistical data away and brought up an overhead blueprint image of the island. With another quick flick, coloured numbers appeared and overlaid the island villa floor plan. 

A couple of the numbers were moving about the island, going about their business of relaxing and enjoying the down time.  Alan; Scott could hear from where he was sitting, was down in the kitchen searching for something edible and singing horribly off key.   The red number three on the screen blipped merrily on the map before him in correlation.

The next closest numbers were his own and the submarine yellow four that indicated Gordon in the pool but the verdant number two was what drew Scott’s eye.  It blipped slowly and unmoving in the bowels of their island home, right where his brother’s ‘bird was berthed.  

Narrowing his eyes, Scott took only a moment of contemplation before double tapping the motionless number.  The screen shifted, flipping the island to a side view  and zoomed in on the hanger. The side profiles shrank as the screen split and tabled, moving to the top, left corner.  Mission data along with Thunderbird Two’s status flashed below, all scans showing green. The opposite half of the screen filling with the audio channel info and flight suit bio readings. 

On a whim, Scott blew the bio readings up for closer inspection and drew in a concerned breath.  The numbers were way off base line.  O2 levels were crap,  pulse was quick and thready and body temp readings wonky.  "Shit…" 

"What's up?" Came the lilting voice of their security expert from the base of the landing stairs, her eyes zeroing in on the screen as she stalked across the room.  

Scott spared her only a brief glance as he flicked back over to the house schematics and punched in a series of commands.  Instantly the storm shutters started trundling down over the villa windows and the over head lighting reduced. 

There was a yelp from Alan downstairs followed by something shattering, Scott ignored it as he turned his attention back to Kayo.  “Down in Two.” It was all that needed to be said.

“Another one?” She asked even though Scott knew she really didn’t need the answer.  

“Looks like it.” 

She mirrored his earlier expletive.  

8-8-8

They found Virgil in a shivering heap on Two’s flight deck fading in and out of consciousness and Kayo held back her panic as she sank down on her haunches beside him.  

Gently brushing his hair back from his forehead, she sighed at the sight.  His skin was sallow and damp with perspiration and he quaked as his body temp kicked up a notch.  “You idiot, what have you done to yourself?” She questioned softly as Scott settled down at her elbow and passed a med-scanner over his sibling.  

“This is a bad one.”  He whispered as he finished and pressed an IV kit into her hands. He pushed to his feet and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m gonna go grab a stretcher.  We gotta get him up to his room and it doesn’t look like he’s gonna move otherwise.”

Kayo nodded in reply and Scott disappeared through the access hatch.  

Sighing as she looked at the pained expression on Virgil’s face she set to work unbuckling his baldric, relieving him of the top half of his flight suit and went in search of a viable vein. 

Swabbing the inside of his forearm clean she tried not to let how unresponsive he was to her prodding bother her but she was having a hard time of it.  She knew the corded muscle under her hand intimately and seeing it so slack was more disturbing than she cared to admit.  

She gave her head a shake and shut the thought process down, now was not the time and cursed as she failed yet again to breach a vein.  Damn it, his veins were a mess and she was having a hell of a time trying to find one that wouldn’t collapse as soon as she touched it.  

Squaring her shoulders, Kayo tried again with a smaller gauge and the sting of the needle fishing around roused Virgil from the darkness. His foggy eyes flickered open. Unseeing and blood shot they scanned around blindly. “..Tin..?”   His voice was rough and barely audible through the clattering of his teeth.

Kayo shushed him softly and comber a hand gently through his sweat soaked hair. “It’s ok,  I got you.” She whispered, bending down to skim a kiss over his brow before returning her attention to his shot circulatory system.  

“..S..s’rry..”  He groaned out as a wave of pain pulsed through him.  

She couldn’t help the confused chuckle and a soft, worried smile tilted her lips. “What for?”  She questioned nearly pumping her fist when she finally hit pay dirt.  Catheter in place, she grabbed a line and with little fuss set up a saline drip to replenish his depleted system. 

“Worrying..you.  Can see...see it in your..”He stopped abruptly, the colour bleeding out of his face as he took on a decidedly green cast. ..”oh god...” 

Kayo swore and steady him as he lurched to one side and proceeded to lose the contents of his  stomach all over the decking.  Grabbing an emesis bowl she held it out for him before too much damage could be done. Not that Virgil had much to bring up. 

As he dry heaved, all Kayo could do was rub a gentle hand on his back in slow, steady circles and try him couch him through the retching. By the time he was done,  Virgil was a weak, quivering mess and needed help to settle back down on the cool, diamond plating.  

“That sounded like fun.”  Came a voice from behind her as Scott returned from the medbay and crouched down beside them, his eyes glancing over the IV bag hanging off the back of a seat, “Hey Virg, how ya doing?”  

Virgil just grunted by way of reply, not even bothering to open his eyes and rolled over onto his back, his chest heaving with the movement. 

“That good, huh?” he turned to Kayo and pulled out a veil, speaking softly  “I’ve got Alan just outside to help get him upstairs but if he is at the yacking phase of the ride we gotta get this into him first or the trip is going to be rough.” 

Kayo took it from him and read the label.  It was a fast acting cocktail of painkillers and anti-nauseants that she knew Virgil hated with a passion but options were limited.  He was too far gone and they couldn’t very well leave him here on the deck of Two while they waited for the migraine to pass. 

Grabbing a sterile syringe she handed the lot back to Scott to deal with and lent down to Virgil’s ear.  “We’re giving you the cocktail,  I know you hate it but we don’t have much of a choice and you need it.”  

Virgil sank the heel of his palms into his sockets and with bared teeth clenching down as a new wave of torture attempted to make his brain explode.

With tender fingers, Kayo wiped an errant tear from his cheek and waited for his nod of approval.   He was lucid at the moment and due to that they couldn’t just pump him full of drugs unless he agreed to it. 

“Virgil?”  She questioned again, laying a hand on his heaving chest. “Let us help..” 

A small, brief nod from him spoke loudly of how much he was suffering.  

She looked to Scott who was already sliding the syringe into the IV injection port. His eyes meeting hers, he depressed the plunger and Virgil was lost to the black void of drug induced oblivion and she was thankful for it. 

8-8-8

TBC

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbird fanfic #Virgil Tracy #kayo kyrano #Scott Tracy #virgil/kayo #thunderbird two #thunderbird one #thunderbird shadow #migraine #ouch #prompt #the prompt made me do it #whumptober2019 #no.10 #unconscious

[dreams-got-dimmer]

The Roommate (Eric Coulter AU)

PROMPT: Dauntless makes a sudden change to there initiation housing thinking it would be better for the initiates to be paired with an actual member of dauntless in hopes that it will decrease the amount of fowl play and increase rankings that are actually well deserved.

It just so happens that the first year that this new housing is in place, is the year that Isabella is transferring from candor with her best friend John in tow who has also brought along the embarrassing nickname of calling her bean or beans.

It’s not a question to if she’ll survive initiation, but will she survive living with Eric?

In this AU Isabella will be 18 while Eric and others like Four are 22

Word Count: 1,382

Warnings: none

Note: Hey all! this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction let alone a story. If you would like me to continue with this please let me know!!! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this AU. And again if you want me to continue please show me some love or let me know what I can improve upon. (: enjoy

Chapter 1

Everything had been easy so far. My choice to transfer. The blood from my cut dripping over the coals of dauntless. Ignoring my parents surprised yelps and cries at my choice. Even the act of getting on the train and plummeting down to the net hadn’t been all that challenging either. I’m not sure whether it was because I was mentally prepared for this day or the fact that my best friend, John was along for the same ride that made it so easy.

Everyone had jumped and we were now awaiting instruction from Four, the groups trainer throughout initiation.

John leaned over to me his lips curling into a smile, “You excited Beans?”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” I whispered to him through gritted teeth. Normally I wouldn’t really mind the nickname he had adopted for me, but now that we transferred it would just be embarrassing if anyone were to overhear him calling me it.

“I can’t just stop, I’ve practically been calling you that since birth,” he shrugged “there’s nothing you can do to stop me from saying it either,”

I huffed not necessarily happy with his answer, but in no mood to start fighting with him. I was going to continue talking, but Four finally spoke up

“Consider this your lucky day initiates. We’ve decided to give you all a fair chance at proving yourself. A lot of foul play happens outside of the actual training and to combat that it seems the most logical way is to give you personal housing,” he pauses for a moment and all the initiates start murmuring excitedly. Four looked nothing but business. He was tall and lean with short brown hair. A permanent looking frown was etched into his face. And even with the frown he was in no way intimidating. He seemed like someone who knew how to command authority and lead others, which is maybe why he is a trainer.

The idea of not having to live in communal quarters was extremely appealing. We’d be the first group to have our own living space and not have to deal with the stress that someone may stab another in another in the eye with a butter knife.

“Don’t get too excited,” Four states. “It’s not as personal as you may think, you all have been assigned a roommate that is already a member of dauntless. You have no choice in who it is and they do not either. If you are not happy with who you are rooming with then that’s too bad. Be grateful that they won’t try to kill you,” he smirks “Hopefully,” the excitement was lost in all of us after that.

A woman by the name of Lauren began handing up our room assignment papers. She claimed to be the instructor for the dauntless born initiates, and I believe it. She looked for more intimidating than Four. Tattoos ran up her built arms. She had dark raven hair and one nasty resting bitch face. No one could control that, though. So even with that face that doesn’t correlate to the personality she may actually have, but besides I didn’t plan to get to know her anyway.

I get handed my paper and I nod my thanks and she just walks off not acknowledging it at all.

“Initiation will begin tomorrow. Take this time to eat and introduce yourself to your new roommate. I’ll bring you all to the dining hall” Four says while turning around not waiting for us to start following.

As we get deeper and deeper into dauntless the chill starts to creep up my back. I don’t know why I hadn’t given much thought to how cold it may be underground. Or how much sunlight I’ll miss touching my face. Unease washes over me. Did I make the right decision? It’s like John had read my mind.

“Hey, don’t worry, you know that you belong here right? We both do,” he wraps his arm around my shoulders as we walk. Easing a bit of that chill that was in my spine. “Besides, I won’t let you fail out. Don’t be worried you’re definitely more prepared than a few others here,” he snickers a bit as I survey the crowd of trainers realizing he’s right. There were way more boys than girls and even with the gender difference a lot of them looked shorter, scrawny and scared out of their wits. Like they didn’t mean to let their blood drop over the coals at the choosing ceremony.

I smiled up at him “thanks, J. You really know how to blow up this ego,” I chuckled. He was right, though. I know I had a slight upper hand over most of them. John and I worked out quite regularly together back in Candor and we knew the basics of fighting, but other than that I was probably just as clueless as the rest. I wasn’t going to let my one strength of being strong be seen, though. I want to keep others in the dark deciding on wearing baggier clothes until I really had to show my strength. I stood around 5’2” or 5’3”, but I was a lot stronger than anyone would imagine for how short I was. You could see it on my body with the thick thighs, defined arms and wide lats.

John didn’t say anything back to me as we finally made it to the dining hall. Every faction could eat together like this, but honestly, I would much rather eat in my own room. Knowing that I would be able to do that soon enough was a relief because you would be lying to yourself if you thought this D hall food was amazing.

After John and I grabbed your food it was surprising because all the initiates ended up sitting together. Maybe because it was all we knew so far. I don’t think any of us would dare trying to sit with Four or Lauren even though they most likely wouldn’t bite our head off for it.

A boy with short black hair spoke up “So, who did everyone get for their roommates?” There was curiosity in his eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing told me he was from Erudite. Everyone started going around the table saying their roommates. The names didn’t really mean anything to me because I didn’t know a single person here. It was getting close to me so finally decided to take a peek at my paper. Eric Coulter room 225 was typed on the paper showing the location within the compound and his number and email. There was no other information, but I knew he was a leader to Dauntless and that was it.

The boy with the black hair cleared his throat at me expectantly. I threw a displeased look at him annoyed with his urgency, but I answered anyway “uhh.. Eric Coulter,” I shrugged as I folded up the paper. Everyone went silent around me stopping their eating and side chatter to look up at me. “What?” I asked confused. Even John was gaping at me. I glared at him frustrated that I was apparently so out of the loop. “You know he’s the leader, right?” John narrowed his eyes at lack of fear. “Yeah, and?” I bark at him, “What’s the problem?” I look at him while everyone else looks at me. “The problem is he’s the biggest dickhead in this compound. He chews you up and spits you out,” John had a concerned look on his face for me, “there are so many stories of him almost killing the initiates, most of them being him hanging them over the chasm...” He trails off. I huff frustrated they he didn’t think I could handle myself with the so called ‘biggest dickhead in the compound’. Apparently, no one else thought I could handle him either and honestly I was up for the challenge.

“Well fuck it. I don’t give a shit if he’s the biggest dickhead here. I can handle it,” I stand up suddenly, “You know what, I’m gonna go find him now,” I stormed off mentally preparing myself to try and make it through this labyrinth that is Dauntless.

#dauntless #divergent #Eric coulter #eric x reader #candor #erudite #amity #abnegation #fanfiction #Eric Coulter au #romance #one shot #imagine #villain #sserpente

[happyvacancy7514]

That implies being appended to it 6 - 7 times each day for at any rate 30 minutes for every pump. The way that it is versatile is incredibly decent. I can attach to the pump and afterward clean the kitchen or overlay garments, or even simply play with the infant on the floor. The battery effectively keeps going a large portion of the day. I haven't been away from an outlet longer than that so I don't know to what extent it would go on until the battery kicked the bucket, yet it appears as though it would last throughout the day.

Since I am an elite pumper, I set up the parts during my center of the night pump (ordinarily between 1 am and 3 am, contingent upon when the child awakens), and afterward put the parts in the ice chest between pumps. Regularly the parts go together pretty effectively, yet a few evenings I need to go through 25 minutes dismantling them and assembling them to get the vacuum expected to really pump and some night I can just get the one side to work, which implies that in the wake of battling with the pump for 25 minutes I at that point need to pump each breast separately. This implies a pump that should most recent 30 minutes is currently taking 1.5 hours and the child is about prepared to wake up again to be nourished. I wouldn't believe this pump on the off chance that it was your lone alternative, it isnt dependable enough. Never would I prescribe it this to a pump.

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Chiquita

4.0 out of 5 stars Great for occupied moms

Checked on in the United States on December 12, 2017

Size: Freestyle Breast PumpVerified Purchase

I love this pump! I wish I had gotten it rather than my pump in style that my protection gave. I requested this with my HSA card so I could pump simpler grinding away, in a hurry, and at home. I had the option to wash dishes and change a diaper all while pumping! This will truly prove to be useful when I return to work-I can pump while I prepare as opposed to sitting in one spot. My pump in style will be my back up pump or I'll simply utilize it in case I'm as of now staring at the television.

I will say however this has less suction (running on battery) than the pump in style. I utilize the suction set really low so it's no issue at all for me. In the event that you utilize a pump in style on to the max you're going to see a distinction.

My principle objection is all the parts are not the same as the pump in style so as to have save parts I needed to arrange them. It would be pleasant if all the pumps had a similar standard parts.

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Meredith Hunter

2.0 out of 5 stars Least successful of the Medela pumps - purchase Pump in Style!

Checked on in the United States on December 8, 2018

Size: Freestyle Breast PumpVerified Purchase

I have Freestyle and Pump in Style pumps and utilize the Symphony (clinic grade) pump busy working, so I feel comfortable around various pumps. I truly battle with the Freestyle. It appears to simply not work quite well. The measure of milk I get when I utilize the Freestyle versus the other 2 pumps is SIGNIFICANTLY less and it takes longer with the Freestyle. I would purchase the Pump in Style yet could NEVER suggest the Freestyle. The main ace of the Freestyle is that it has battery-powered batteries which is decent in the event that you completely need that usefulness. The Pump in Style can work on AA batteries so on the off chance that you incidentally need that usefulness, it's accessible on the Pump in Style. I have utilized my Pump in Style in the vehicle since I have an outlet in the vehicle and furthermore use it while voyaging globally by utilizing a stage down transformer, which works incredible.

Outline - GO WITH THE PUMP IN STYLE!

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Amazon Customer

1.0 out of 5 stars Do not purchase

Investigated in the United States on June 19, 2018

Size: Freestyle Breast PumpVerified Purchase

I'm pumping with this machine as I am composing this survey. I concur with past remarks that in the event that you don't need more worry in your life, don't organization this pump!

The machine is purges my breasts fine and dandy and is exceptionally convenient when voyaging. It is noisy however I can live with that. In any case, it is SUCH A PAIN when I am pumping grinding away with restricted time or when I am so engorged and the pump won't work appropriately. I have taken a stab at fixing the folds in the suction tops and FULLY DRYING the parts however the pump is as yet a hit or miss. I continue fixing it on numerous occasions and typically simply wind up utilizing each pump in turn. What's the point right? At the cost I paid, it ought not be this way. Once I was so baffled I just really wanted to cry. Us moms ought not need to manage this disappointment and included pressure. Exceptionally unsatisfied!!

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Cindy

3.0 out of 5 stars Head-to-head correlation with Medela Pump In Style Advanced

Inspected in the United States on December 2, 2011

Size: Freestyle Breast Pump

I am a pediatrician and a working mother who has pumped for both my youngsters - the first with a Pump In Style Advanced and the second with a Freestyle. I work in a nursery and have additionally utilized a few distinctive medical clinic grade pumps too. On the off chance that you are attempting to settle on a Pump In Style and a Freestyle, this audit is for you.

My first kid was conceived in 2008 just before Freestyle was discharged, so I purchased a Medela Pump In Style Advanced. As far as I can tell, in spite of the fact that the suction was not exactly equivalent to an emergency clinic grade pump (and I approach a large number of them at my work environment), it was more than sufficient and I pumped effectively for a year with the Pump In Style Advanced. Notwithstanding, I thought that it was restricting to be connected to an outlet constantly, and the Pump In Style Advanced was not perfect for voyaging.

At the point when my subsequent kid was conceived in 2010, I didn't spare a moment to jump on a Freestyle, despite the fact that my Pump In Style Advanced was still in brilliant condition. I've since utilized the Freestyle for 13 months (pumping 5-6 times each day), and here are my contemplations:

Experts:

1) Extremely versatile. I've taken the Freestyle on three expanded excursions for work and I've pumped in the vehicle, washroom slows down, plane restrooms, arbitrary closets...you name it, I've likely pumped there. In the event that the lactation rooms are occupied grinding away, I can simply discover somewhere private, put on a Hooter Hider if vital, and pump when I have to.

2) Cordless. In spite of the fact that I don't utilize the ludicrously confused sans hands set-up, I do appreciate having the option to plunk down anyplace in my home or grinding away and pump without being connected to the divider. I have companions who have done housework while pumping with the Freestyle; I'm simply not excessively yearning.

3) Small. I can simply pack my pump and pump parts in my standard work sack or a little shopping pack. I leave the huge dark vinyl pack at home.

Cons:

1) Suction isn't as solid as the Pump In Style. I claim both, I've looked at them, and I see this as evident. I utilize both on the most extreme pump settings, I utilize hard plastic ribs with both (I didn't care for the softcup spines that accompanied the Freestyle), and the suction is more fragile on the Freestyle. I've generally had an incredible milk supply, so this was not a major issue for me, yet I have had more issues with stopped conduits since utilizing the Freestyle, and I think this is from deficient exhausting of the breasts. I likewise need to pump longer with the Freestyle (around 15 minutes contrasted with <10 minutes with the Pump In Style).

2) Battery issues. At the point when my battery is down to one bar, the Freestyle loses suction significantly further, so I charge it each 3 or 4 days. At the point when I unintentionally run my battery down as far as possible, the Freestyle flashes a battery blunder message and assumes control more than 24 hours to completely energize. I can, be that as it may, keep on pumping while it is connected to an outlet.

On the off chance that I needed to do it over once more, would I despite everything purchase the Freestyle? I'm not sure...I love it for its benefit, yet by and large I feel that the Pump In Style Advanced is a progressively steady pump. In the event that you wind up getting a Freestyle, don't part with (or sell) your Pump In Style at this time!

[jungcupid-archive]

you monster

pairing: yoongi x hoseok

summary: hoseok’s just.. so weird.

+

“So, will you do it?”

Yoongi looks at his manager, his face is completely neutral but inside, he’s crying, because there goes his good night’s sleep.

He nods once, a small grimace on his face that’s supposed to be smile making a quick appearance before he speaks, “Yeah, of course.”

Who knew that three words could ruin your life?

It’s not supposed to be a big deal, and the situation is reasonable. There had been a small miscommunication about the number of staff and they were one bedroom short, the hotel was fully booked and everyone else had already gone to sleep except for Yoongi and Hoseok (who had, of course, gone straight to the dining area as soon as they’d arrived).

Yoongi looked down at his ice-cream in distaste, The things you love most in life really do betray you in the end, huh?

Hoseok is practically knocked out as it is, he’s trying to finish off his hot chocolate with a straw but with every sip his eyelids droop lower. He hasn’t contributed anything to the conversation, Yoongi’s pretty sure you could blow an airhorn right next to his ear and he wouldn’t flinch. He sighs.

“That’s great! Thanks for taking one for the team, we’ll hopefully have a better arrangement set up for tomorrow,” and with that, the elder man slides out of his seat where he’d dropped down just a few minutes ago and leaves to go to his room. Where he has his own bed. In which he will sleep. And rest. Comfortably.

Yoongi can’t help it, he shoves a spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth with a scowl and wonders what he’d done in his past life to deserve such a cruel fate.

Hoseok is incoherent by the time he finishes his beverage, he mutters something about going to bed early as he stands up, almost falling over. Yoongi glances at the time on his phone, 1:12 am, and kisses his fantasies of an 8-hour rest goodbye. He immediately gets up when Hoseok stumbles a little getting out from under the table and steadies him with both hands before poking the other’s cheeks lightly, “Keep your eyes open, you idiot. We still have to go up the stairs.”

Yoongi guides Hoseok gently towards the staircase, and somehow, manages to get both of them up to what is supposedly his room, judging by the text he’d received earlier in the day about room numbers and their correlations to the members. He manages to insert his key card in while practically supporting all of Hoseok’s weight, and almost yells in victory when he opens the door without dropping the other boy.

As soon as they’re in the room, Yoongi throws Hoseok in the bed, muttering something about being a fragile individual. He mutters a couple more choice words as he tugs off Hoseok’s shoes and adjusts him so that he’s engulfed by the blanket.

By the time Yoongi is in bed and ready to finally rest, it’s 1:32 and Hoseok is snoring lightly beside him. He quickly turns the lamp off and puts his phone on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long for him to start drifting off, the pillow is soft, and there’s warm air meeting the back of his neck in little puffs thanks to his useless friend.

Then it happens.

There’s a light touch that starts at his elbow, Yoongi’s eyes snap open and he curls tighter into his fetal position, praying to fall asleep before It Starts. Yoongi imagines the Gods laughing at Yoongi, watching him on their TVs from the comfort of their own beds where they are completely alone. The touch starts moving upward, barely ghosting his skin.

The Gods had turned off their TVs, the fuckers.

Yoongi swats Hoseok’s hand away and wonders for the nth time in 8 years how it’s possible that the other caresses himself when he’s unconscious, and, even worse, how he manages to caress others as well. Yoongi swears he’s going to kill his manager. And Hoseok. Not-Really-Hoseok Hoseok isn’t discouraged, and his hands trail down Yoongi’s spine gently. It would be relaxing, if only Not-Really-Hoseok Hoseok wasn’t asleep and making Yoongi think of every horror movie he’d ever watched.

How was he making a conscious action? WHILE BEING UNCONSCIOUS?

The lamp turns on at the flip of a switch and Yoongi sits up in bed, unable to fall asleep with a very much asleep monster laying beside him. His eyebrows are knit together and he’s staring straight ahead, arms crossed, he’s reached Stage 1 of Grumpy Min Mode. The final stage would definitely be reached by morning if Hoseok kept up with his antics, which he definitely would, and everyone would definitely be unable to approach him for the next 24 hours. Definitely.

Hoseok is seemingly unbothered by either the light or the shift in movement, his hand has stilled momentarily. But Yoongi knows. He knows it’s going to start up again any time now. So he waits. And he watches.

He waits and he watches for so long that the artificial light next to him dims more and more and the natural light gets brighter and brighter until oh, there’s the sun. Yoongi blinks, his eyes are burning but he stares at the arc of orange slowly peeking over the horizon.

Sunrises are supposed to be beautiful, they’re supposed to make you cry and bring about a sense of otherworldliness, they’re supposed to be intimate and heart stopping. They’re supposed to be all that and so much more, but Yoongi glares at the stupid thing before whipping his head around to look at Jung Hoseok, and wishes nothing more than for him to wake up so that Yoongi can beat the crap out of him. Of course, it doesn’t happen.

He prays that the Gods have turned on their TVs for the 5:00 news and that they choke on their cereal.

The alarm clock is set for 6:00, leaving Yoongi with one hour to try and rest, but he knows it won’t be possible. So he sighs, stumbles off the bed, and gets ready for the day.

It’s when he’s brushing his teeth and looking in the mirror when the thoughts he’d been trying to ward off all night creep into the back of his mind.

You know, it’s not that hard to fall asleep with someone barely touching you. If anything, it should be comforting.

We all know that you “being terrified” of Hoseok’s freak show isn’t the real reason you can’t fall asleep.

Why can’t you let him touch you, Yoongi? He’s done it a trillion times before, does it perhaps.. make you feel something you shouldn’t be feeling…?

Yoongi chokes on his toothpaste and quickly spits it into the sink before lightly punching his reflection in the mirror with a frown, shut the fuck up.

He’s doesn’t feel anything, Yoongi’s just very aware of Hoseok’s long fingers and so what if he feels chills when the other runs a finger down his spine? So what if his something in his stomach explodes when Hoseok’s hands occasionally find his chest and rubs soothing circles there? So what? It’s a normal thing. Really. It is.

Yoongi takes an extra long shower and by the time he’s out, he’s free of both the collection of oil on his face, and the collection of thoughts in his head. It’s 5:43 when he checks the time, clad in a towel and sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over his phone. He’ll change in a few minutes. He’s scrolling through Twitter but not really seeing the tweets, mind focused on the body behind him.

He sighs, putting his phone on the nightstand once again and looking out the glass doors that lead to the balcony. His brain tells him he’s a wimp. He agrees wholeheartedly. Okay, so yeah, he’s had these feelings about Hoseok for a while, but it confuses him and scares him. So Min Yoongi does what he’s always done, tucks away said feelings in a corner of his mind where he won’t have to face them. Occasionally, he’ll indulge himself and think about stupid things like how nice Hoseok’s smile is. Or how pretty his legs are. Or how cute his laugh is. Or how understanding and patient he is. Or how extremely talented yet willing to learn he is. Just stupid little things like that, and he’ll feel his heart soar, because he really likes this Hoseok guy.

He really, truly does.

Hoseok rustles the sheets behind him and suddenly, there’s a head snaking it’s way onto Yoongi’s lap. Or, for better visualisation, onto the towel that is the only thing laying on Yoongi’s lap. Hoseok is in a weird position, but he seems comfortable and although his eyes are closed, he mutters out a why are you up, hyung?

Yoongi takes in a deep breath, thanking Hoseok for being a dumbass and stopping his sensitive areas from stirring at the sudden weight of his friend’s head. He looks down in absolute disgust, “Did you really just ask my why I’m awake.”

He holds on to his towel and stands up, not even feigning care for Hoseok’s safety. The younger is more alert, sitting up now that he was almost thrown onto the floor. Yoongi walks away to get dressed, muttering, “You’re lucky I didn’t fucking kill you, Jung Hoseok,” under his breath with disdain. Hoseok is very confused, so he closes his eyes, plops down into the mattress once again, and does what he does best, sleeps.

It’s 5:54 when Yoongi finishes changing and is ready to just about drop dead, because he’s only moved around for less than an hour and he can already feel sleep overtaking his bones. Hoseok is, the little punk, back asleep. Yoongi groans and walks over to Hoseok’s side of the bed, crouching down to look at his face.

Yoongi smiles, Hoseok looks so peaceful.

“HEY WAKE UP THERE’S A SPIDER IN YOUR HAIR OH MY GOD!” Yoongi yells in a fake-panicked voice.

Had he said “so peaceful”? Whoops, he’d meant “too peaceful”.

Hoseok is flailing about wildly, not quite awake but conscious enough to know that spiders in your hair were definitely not a good thing. He stops when he sees Yoongi’s shit eating grin, and tries to weakly hit him in the face with his pillow. The sun is fully up, and it’s turning Hoseok’s bed hair into a halo of sorts.

Yoongi stops for a moment, smile faltering, Hoseok looks radiant. His eyes are bleary with sleep and he’s got this pout on his face that makes him look like the world’s cutest 2 year old, his skin is shining because of how hydrated he is and he just looks.. good. Yoongi almost slaps himself, did he just categorize good hydration under “Attractive Qualities in Partners”?

“Sorry, get up. It’s.. it’s almost 6,” and with that, Yoongi is out the door and making his way to the dining area.

On the way down, Yoongi is cursing himself.

Min Yoongi you absolute fool, how do you think that looked to Hoseok? God, it probably made him mad, what the fuck- his thoughts are cut off when he feels two hands land on his shoulders. Hoseok is standing behind him on the staircase, eyes half closed and sleep mussed hair sticking straight up. There’s a tired smile on his face.

“Choo-choo, hyung, next stop - breakfast!” His voice is still a little rough around the edges, but filled with enough warmth to be distinctively Hoseok. Yoongi just looks at him, wondering how the other isn’t even a tiny bit irritated after all the stunts Yoongi’s pulled this morning. But then he shakes his head to himself, smiling as he turns back around. 

Of course he isn’t mad, it’s Hoseok. Hoseok is kindness and everlasting affection, not petty grudges and demands for apologies. That’s Yoongi, and Hoseok has never shared much in common with Yoongi anyways. They’re going down the stairs slowly, Yoongi not wanting the other to fall in his current state.

They’ve never shared much in common, but when Hoseok removes his hands from Yoongi’s shoulder and picks up the pace so he’s climbing down beside him instead of behind him, smile present in his eyes, Yoongi thinks that’s perfectly okay. The way it’s always been.

+

#this one's terrible whoops #yoonseok #sope #yoonseok fics #sope fics #yoonseok fanfic #sope fanfic #yoonseok fanfics #sope fanfics #yoonseok fanfiction #sope fanfiction #yoongi #hoseok #yoongi fics #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfics #yoongi fanfiction #hoseok fics #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fanfics #hoseok fanfiction #non au #idol verse #canon verse #idol au #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfics #bts ships

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Check My Heart Rate Because I Think I'm Falling For You Part 2

Summary: Sebastian takes a tumble on the set of Civil War and becomes enamored with the paramedic who arrives on the scene. But she decides to give him a hard time.

Chapter Summary: The second part no one asked for. 

Warnings: None just fluffy fluff

Also, I could’ve sworn there was a gif out there of Sebastian playing pool. If anyone can find it, please give me it. I can only find gifs of him IN a pool which isn’t too bad but doesn’t really correlate. 

           “Val!”

           She turned when she heard a nurse, Maggie, in the emergency room calling her over. “What’s up?” She wondered.

           “Someone brought you flowers.” The young nurse, who Val knew from crossing paths many times, smiled widely.

           “Really?” Val walked over to the nurse’s station with her and sure enough, a large bouquet of blue and purple flowers sat on the desk.

           “Mhm, do you know him?”

           “Uh…if I’m thinking it’s the guy I met then yes.” Val found the card among the petals and opened it.

           “You should’ve seen him, he was so handsome. He was wearing this leather jacket and jeans. Oh my God, he was so dreamy. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t speaking English when he started talking to me.”

           Val read over the note in disbelief.

           Valentina,

Thank you so much for our paramedic expertise. Doc says I have a small concussion but I’m on the mend. Should be back filming soon. Hopefully, we won’t run into each other again on the basis of medical emergencies. But I’d like to see you again when we’re both off work. Here’s my number so we can get in touch.

           Hope to see you soon,

           Sebastian

           “Wow…” Val whispered quietly. Even after all the grief, she gave him, he wanted to spend more time with her.

           “He was adorable, he asked if you were around but I told him he just missed you. I told him you’d probably be back soon and he was worried the flowers wouldn’t get to you. But I assured him I’d text you. There was also this little boy who broke his arm and recognized him. I guess he’s an actor or something, I didn’t know who he was. And he signed the boy’s cast. Isn’t that adorable?” Maggie squealed.

           “That’s pretty cute.” Val agreed. “So he brought them in himself?” She was impressed. Usually, if a boyfriend or potential boyfriend bought her flowers, they just had them delivered to her.

           “He said he wanted to see you.” Maggie shrugged.

           Val’s face turned red. “Wow, okay…I guess I should text him.” She put his number into her phone.

           “He gave you his number? Oh my God, lock him down.” The nurse replied sternly. There was a sharp beeping and she groaned. “This girl has been buzzing nonstop. She’s been demanding everything.” She rolled her eyes and got up.

           “Mags, will you keep these safe until my shift is over?”

           “Of course. I’ll keep a good eye on them.”

==============

           Val: Thank you so much for the flowers, they were beautiful. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you.

           Sebastian: No worries. You were out saving lives

           Val: Want to get dinner tomorrow? I’m working in the morning. Are you shooting anything?

           Sebastian: Nah, I’m done for the week. They postponed my scenes while I recover. We can get dinner.

           Val: Great, you can pick where we go. I don’t need anything fancy.

           Sebastian: There’s a good pub around the corner from the hospital. It’s casual; we can get a few drinks, shoot some pool.

           Val: Sounds fun. I’ll meet you there at eight?

           Sebastian: It’s a date. Can’t wait to see you.

======================

           Val stood by the entrance of the pub and checked her phone for the time again. She sighed when it read quarter after eight.

           She’d been thrilled to see Sebastian again. She spent hours trying to figure out the perfect outfit. One that was nice but didn’t try too hard. She settled on a skirt and a nice ruffled tank top paired with a jean jacket. She double-checked with Grace and got the thumbs-up. Now she was standing on the sidewalk, worried that she was about to be stood up.

           He was a nice, attractive actor who probably got hit on all the time. She was just an EMT from a small town. And she didn’t feel she was nearly as pretty as the actresses in Hollywood. She didn’t buy into the fakeness of LA. There was no point. If people didn’t like who she was naturally, then they could fuck right off. But she hoped Sebastian liked who she was.

           “I’m here, I’m here.” Sebastian came jogging down the sidewalk. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I know I’m late.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And I…” He paused when he looked at Val for the first time. “Shit.”

           She felt a huge amount of insecurity and her eyes widened. “What?”

           “Man, I thought you looked beautiful in your uniform but…damn, I didn’t think you could get more gorgeous.”

           Val smiled and ducked her head. “Stop, you know that’s not true.”

           “I’m not blind.” Sebastian scoffed. “But I am sorry for being late. I’ll make it up to you.” He promised.

           “It’s alright. It’s not like you were a few hours late.”

           “Whoa, whoa, whoa, I’m not stupid. I would never pass up an opportunity like this. Frankly, I’m just glad you texted me. I was worried the flowers would be a little much.” He admitted and opened the door into the bar for her.

           “No, they were perfect. They look beautiful in my tiny little kitchen.”

           He chuckled. “I’m glad you liked them. I wasn’t sure what your favorite color was but your uniform was blue so I just…it’s sort of stupid.”

           “No, I like blue. Purple is my favorite though, so you nailed that.”

           “Nice…glad I let the florist decide.” He laughed and grabbed a seat at the high-top tables for them. “So how was your day?” He asked as they got settled.

           Val lost herself in his eyes for a moment as he shrugged off his leather jacket. “I uh…” She was so close that she caught the scent of his cologne and almost melted. “It was good, pretty typical.”

           “Any dumb actors with concussions?” He grinned cheekily.

           “Can’t say there were. I did save Natalie Portman’s life though.”

           “Shut up, you did?”  

           Val giggled and shook her head. “You’re the first actor I’ve treated. The first actor I’ve met actually.”

           “How long have you lived in LA?” He wove his fingers together and rested his hands on the table, just centimeters away from hers.

           “A few years. I grew up in Nevada.”

           “And you’ve never met an actor?” He raised an eyebrow.

           “Well, I’m always working so…” She shrugged. “I might have run into one though and I just didn’t know it. I mean I didn’t really recognize you.” She reminded him. “But! I did watch Captain America!”

           He smiled shyly. “You did?”

           “Yeah, you were pretty cute. Sorry, you died…wait if you died then why are you filming with them?” She realized for the first time.

           “Well, that would be unfair if I spoiled it for you. You’re just going to have to watch the rest of them.”

           “Alright…maybe we can watch them together?” She tilted her head to the side. “Unless this date goes really bad and I find out you’re a selfish douchebag.”

           “Have you gotten that impression so far?” He wondered.

           “No…you seem different than most of the people in LA or in your line of work I guess. I knew this one girl who worked on the set of a movie as like an intern and she automatically assumed she was better than me because she rubbed elbows with Hollywood’s elite.” Val rolled her eyes.

           “People who work on movies aren’t better than anyone. Hell, you’re probably better than me because you actually help people. I just stand in front of a camera and talk.”

           “Judging people isn’t really my thing.” Val shrugged and fiddled with the salt shaker on the table. “I either like someone or I don’t. It doesn’t matter status, it’s about their personality.”

           “That sounds perfectly reasonable.”

           “And I like you.” She admitted and glanced up at him sheepishly.

           He smiled genuinely. “I like you too.”

====================

           “Tell me you’ve played pool before.”

           “I can’t say I’ve actually seriously tried.” Val grabbed the cue Sebastian was handing her.

           “This is going to get really cliché, okay? Because I’m going to stand behind you and teach you how to play. And you’re going to swoon over how manly I am. And I’m going to realize how absolutely perfect you are.” He said with a dead-serious look on his face.

           Val giggled. “Then could we just skip this part because I think we’re already there?”

           “Nah, it’ll be cute.” He situated himself behind her and placed his hands over hers. “And by the end of the game, I’m going to kiss you.”

           Val’s hands shook slightly and she couldn’t believe this was really happening to her. Gently held in his arms, feeling his warmth, inhaling his scent, and listening to his gentle, low voice was too much for her. She felt faint but she couldn’t let him get the last word.

           “Well, if I win, I’m going to kiss you.”

           He chuckled and his cheek grazed her hair. “Fair enough. I win both ways though.” He pointed out.

           “Me too.”

           Once it was all said and done, Sebastian won the game. But it didn’t matter to Val. Because he walked around the table and took her cheeks in his hands. It was like there wasn’t anyone else in the bar. He kept her close and his eyes flicked over her face briefly.

           Val licked her bottom lip and nodded slightly to give him the go-ahead. He smiled slightly and leaned in to kiss her. He was right about one thing; it was every cliché she’d ever heard of.

           Her ears were ringing as she felt sparks jolting down her spine. The only thought in Val’s head was the way his lips felt. Her knees buckled and she wondered how she had missed out on this experience her entire life. Maybe because she just hadn’t met the right guy. Sebastian was that guy.

           His thumb brushed over her cheek as he drew away. “Wow…” He breathed and the tip of his nose brushed against her cheekbone. “Uh…I think my brain just short-circuited.”

           Val laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, I totally know how that feels. It just happened to me too.”

           “Want to see if it happens again?” His eyes sparkled and he moved one hand to her waist.

           “Well if we don’t try we’ll never know.”

           “Exactly my thoughts.” He pulled her closer and kissed her again. She did everything she could to not lose her mind completely but he had some sort of effect on her. It was like a drug and her heart raced uncontrollably. It was dizzying but she craved more.

           They pulled away for air and Sebastian laughed. “Yeah, wow, I could get used to this.”

           “I think you need to check my heart rate,” Val whispered.

           “Yeah? Might as well check mine too.”

           She grabbed his shirt to pull him back to her lips.

Part 1

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan rpf #rpf #marvel rpf #marvel actor rpf #marvel actor #sebastian stan x ofc #paramedic #flowers #first dates #fluff #first kiss #fanfiction

[jihoonslattee]

Russian Roulette | Wanna One AU

IT’S FINALLY HERE ! anyways! this first hour WILL HAVE CHOICES to be made !!! it’s AT THE BOTTOM !! 

also i forgot to mention that each polls i post will last 24 hours! i also added a hashtag that says “ wanna one russian roulette “ for easy finding!

HOUR ONE:

after hearing the announcement made by the person over the speaker you were put into a state of shock

it seemed like the others were too because everyone in the room went silent

at least it was until someone decided to speak up 

“this is bullshit!”

jaehwan yells while he starts to pace around the room

“it obviously wasn’t me you guys know that already.”

someone sighs loudly at the other side of the room 

when you looked over it was seongwoo who was sitting in the chair that was in front of the file that had his name on it.

“listen jaehwan, no one even said that you were the killer and besides we don’t even know who was the killer and who locked us up in here. we need to figure that out first.”

“this is why seongwoo is a police officer, he has the smartest brains in this room to help us stay on track”

daniel laughs and places a hand on seongwoo’s shoulder quickly before going to his own seat and just relaxing 

“who could even be the one to trap us in here anyways, everyone from what i remember didn’t really have any grudges against each other”

you mumbled while staring at your file wondering wether or not to open it. 

“i guess you weren’t really paying attention then”

you looked over to who mumbled and saw woojin simply sitting on his chair while staring quietly at everyone on the room 

‘what did woojin know?’

observing woojin you remembered that he was a silent person who really only opened himself up to anyone, except one person.

actually looking at all the people in the room you realized that they all had something in common

they were all close to someone

walking over to your seat you saw your file with your name on it and proceed to open it 

secretly of course 

as soon as you opened it you legit screamed and closed the file again making everyone in the room look at you

“what’s wrong Y/N?”

“DID DAEHWI DIE?!”

everyone made their way over to your file and opened it, looking at the photo of daehwi that was crossed out with a red circle

“ok first off”

jaehwan snickered and pointed to the circle

“this is poorly done if he wanted us to be scared he should’ve done something like cross it out weirdly, not this red circle over his face”

you made eye contact with jaehwan and gave him a look

“shut up jaehwan”

“you got it boss”

he stopped talking and you all looked at the picture 

when did daehwi die? how did he even die? 

why were you the only ones in there, 

there were other people who were equally as close to daehwi as you all were

“well now we know who died but now we need to know why and who locked us up in here.”

seongwoo walked back to his own seat and opened his folder

“why would anyone even kill daehwi. he was so sweet”

feeling yourself tear up you looked at the only person who was still next to you who was daniel 

he had a weird smirk on his face but his eyes said something else

“daehwi was anything far from being sweet. i think you should realize that.”

he walked away and sat down at his seat

it soon got quiet with everyone looking at their own named folders, no one giving reactions at all so you decided to look in your own folder

with no expectations but a high amount of anxiousness.

you gasped as you noticed it was a picture of something that belonged to daehwi

your breath stopped reading the entry that daehwi had put into his notebook

and kept on reading it over 

he knew something about jisung that the rest of us didn’t know and held it over his head 

then that would give jisung a reason to be upset at him, a motivation 

right ?

but what did the numbers mean, what correlation did they have with the journal entry?

“i don’t understand what I’m seeing here”

you muttered to yourself while looking at the faces of the other people in the room 

daniel sighed and passed his paper over to you

“take a look at this and tell me what you think”

“are you sure that you are okay with showing me”

daniel shrugged and pointed to the paper 

“i mean as long as you didn’t kill him right?”

that gave you shivers down your spine hearing those words come out of daniel’s mouth 

it honestly shocked you to hear that come out of daniel’s mouth but maybe he was just trying to lighten the mood

which clearly wasn’t helping as everyone looked over at him in concern as soon as he said that

“that was a sensitive thing to say daniel”

woojin mumbled while going through his file

“ah sorry sorry”

tuning out of the conversation they were starting to have you looked at the paper daniel gave you

it was another journal entry but this time it involved two people 

you were honestly confused

daehwi seemed like such a different person than what you originally knew him as 

what was wrong with jisung and seongwoo that made you suspicious

looking up at the both of them you noticed that Jisung was talking to Jaehwan while Seongwoo was sitting by himself.

“so? what do you think?”

you looked up to see daniel over you shoulder again, standing up fro mthe chair you led hm to the couch where you both sat down to look at both of the journal entries 

“there’s obviously something up with jisung and seongwoo but i can’t figure out what it is”

carefully reading the entries daniel pointed to both of the numbers on the opposite side of the pages 

“what do these mean?” 

you shook your head and looked at daniel

“if i knew what these meant i would’ve mentioned it already, why was daehwi so secretive?”

daniel’s eyes had an unreadable expression, like it was glossed over with an emotion that you didn’t really understand

“he always was secretive you just never really noticed” 

that alone made you suspicious about what kind of person daehwi really was 

when you all first met him he was a sweet little kid that was close with woojin but things started changing as soon as he got into high school, he even stopped being close with woojin 

---

while everyone was trying to figure out the possible person behind the murder the speaker started up again

“it’s been one hour, have you chosen yet?”

jaehwan scoffed and stood up from his chair

“if we knew who the killer was from all these vague evidence’s then we would’ve been done a long time ago”

“do you want to go first jaehwan?”

jaehwan suddenly stopped talking and sat back down in his chair 

“anyways find out who it is in ten minutes, i’m timing it now”

everyone came back to the table again and looked at each other 

you noticed seongwoo close his folder and bring it closer to himas though no one could be able to reach it and look at it 

looking around you saw that jisung also noticed it and you both made eye contact.

“if i’m being honest”

daniel spoke up and looking at his face, he looked apologetic 

“i think it’s seongwoo”

“okay everyone is suspicious though daniel! even me! none of you even seemed so little as to shocked that daehwi died! doesn’t that say something?”

no one said anything all was heard was a shuffling of papers coming from daniel’s and seongwoo’s side of the table

everyone’s eyes shot to daniel, even seongwoo’s which were full of shock 

he opened his folder and showed everyone his paper 

“even though daehwi also talks about jisung in here there’s something too suspicious about seongwoo, didn’t you guys notice it? we’ve been sitting here for an hour and he hasn’t said a word, nothing.”

jaehwan jumped onto the wagon and joined in daniel’s stance 

“seongwoo aren’t you supposed to be the police officer here? you’re supposed to be helping us find who the killer is, not just be all quiet and to yourself” 

you looked at your own journal, which told a different side to the story 

“what about jisung though. in daniel’s paper is says that jisung should’ve given a free pass to daehwi so he wouldn’t be exposed for what he did”

now everyone’s eyes shifted to jisung. 

you noticed he looked more nervous than seongwoo, it made you curious 

“i’ll explain. but don’t let this sway your decision and thoughts of me.”

nodding your head jisung only made eye contact with you while explaining.

“when we all first met, i was involved in something that I thought was for the better. it was something that would help my family pay the bills and give me a little extra money to spend for myself.”

he paused and took a long breath in 

“i was a,, a person who didn’t really do the most legal things. since we were in high school at the time it was easy since i could just talk around to people our age. it was illegal yeah but i never intended to get caught. but for some reason daehwi caught me. and he used it against me saying that even though he was still two years younger than us, i should let him get some for free if i didn’t want him snitching on me. ever since, i’ve taken care of him. even after I stopped”

you all sat there in silence for a while before seongwoo also spoke up 

he sat up in his chair and placed his folder on the table 

“daehwi and I were never really on the best of terms, from the beginning I knew that he didn’t like me, especially since I’m significantly older than you all”

jaehwan snickered and muttered under his breath

“the town’s youngest cop”

“i won’t explain why he didn’t like me but the one secret he knew about me is something that i would not share, even though sharing it would make you all trust me, i feel that as someone who is close to you all, i feel like you should trust me already.”

everyone was still silent after that.

“this doesn’t help explain this.”

you lifted up both yours and daniel’s papers 

“what do the numbers even mean? like is there something that we are not getting?”

everyone didn’t say anything, just intensely stared at the paper before someone spoke up

“uhm we could search the room right now”

woojin looked around the room pointing to a few things 

“woojin we literally have no time for that and besides i doubt that anything in whatever is in here has something better than what is in our folders.”

before anyone else could speak up the speaker turned on again

“did you decide? waiting any longer is getting to be a pain, i’m assuming everyone else has their decisions so i want you all to point to who you think it is”

what and who will you vote for?

voting link !:

Who will you vote for? https://strawpoll.com/b82k46ye

What will you do next? https://strawpoll.com/64abh1s8

#wanna one #wannaone #yoon jisung #ha sungwoon #hwang minhyun #ong seongwoo #kim jaehwan #kang daniel #park jihoon #park woojin #bae jinyoung #lee daehwi #lai guanlin #wanna one scenario #wanna one imagine #wanna one scenarios #wanna one imagines #wanna one fic #wanna one au #wanna ony aus #russian roulette #wanna one russian roulette