#gonna post the fic when i wake up

[suashii]

♪ ♪ happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear rinnieee~ happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪

[jamietwat]

Time loop fic set during season 2 when Jamie’s back around but Roy isn’t coaching yet where it takes Jamie and Roy an embarrassing amount of do-overs before they finally realize they’re both caught in it because for days Jamie goes over to Keeley’s place and antagonizes Roy in basically the exact same way because he thinks making the same stupid old man jokes all the time is funny anyway and any slight changes in conversation he just assumes is because he showed up at a different time or worded his own end of the conversation a little differently but Roy’s still basically saying the same grumpy old man shit anyway

And Roy makes basically the same retorts every time because he stands by it and he assumes Jamie shows up at slightly different times looking for Keeley as a butterfly effect of his morning with Keeley being different but that there’s no escaping him showing up to be a little bitch at some point

And like they both sometimes tell people but not the same people on the same version of the day so Keeley individually thinks that both of them are losing it on different versions of the day before eventually they both mention it

And then on like day 5 of the same day over and over Jamie doesn’t show up and Roy is irrationally angry about it but thinks it must be somehow connected to the fact that he was acting absolutely insane with Keeley trying to explain what’s happening while she thought he was fucking with her and somehow that made her brush off Jamie and him not show up or something?

And it takes Jamie showing up at 100 and just tearing Roy apart and going on about what a dick he is (which isn’t unusual but isn’t how this routine goes) and weirdly fixating on how he was excited to meet Roy but then he ended up just being an old washed up prick that never even gave him a chance because Jamie figures he can just show up, yell at Roy for all the reasons he’s so fixated on being a little asshole with a grudge against Roy in particular to get it out of his system, and then never have to deal with any consequences of Roy finding out about the whole embarrassing having been a big fan and expecting it to be so cool to play on a team with him just to immediately get offended that Roy didn’t give a shit about him and his bullshit and so Jamie ended up hating him thing

But instead Roy just scowls at him and is like “that’s not what you’re supposed to say” and Jamie’s like “…what.” And Roy’s like I’ve done this day like ten times already and either I make Keeley think I’m certifiable first thing in the morning and you don’t show up or else you show up looking for her and then make the same completely uncreative old man jokes at me and Jamie’s like what the fuck I’ve been doing this same day over and over and you’ve been making the same shitty jokes that weren’t funny the first time over and over again

And Keeley’s just sitting there watching this like “Are you two fucking with me? I can’t believe you two got along long enough to plan whatever the fuck this is.” And honestly, the fact that she couldn’t imagine them ever getting along to plan this stupid joke and agree on it is the main reason she actually starts to believe them that time in an okay either I’ve completely lost it or you two are stuck in a time loop kind of way and when she starts going on about how every time loop movie there’s like a moral the person has to learn and maybe they’re both caught in it because they’re supposed to learn how to get along and be friends and Roy’s supposed to take Ted’s offer and that’s how Jamie finds out about the Ted trying to convince Roy to coach thing

But they’re both like fuck no absolutely not, that’s not it and I’d rather be stuck in this stupid fucking loop forever than voluntarily spend time with him let alone get along (as if Jamie hasn’t shown up to annoy him practically every version of the day and Roy hasn’t just been sitting there waiting for him every time) and then they actively avoid each other for like a week’s worth of versions of the same day before they start considering that Keeley might have been on to something but it still takes three more days of pointedly not seeking the other out and waiting for the other to give in first before they run into each other at Ted’s place anyway and finally start actually swapping information they’ve picked up from their loops and what they’ve tried changing to try to get out and discussing ways to try to get out of it while Ted’s just sitting there cracking jokes and making annoyingly similar to what Keeley said comments about how in time loop and body switch things it’s always that you have to learn to see things from another perspective and be nicer to someone you don’t usually see eye to eye with before you can get out (Ted doesn’t actually believe they’re stuck in a time loop though, he’s just going well weird hypothetical but I’ll play along if this almost certainly made up scenario is what it takes for them to have an actual conversation with each other)

[skitskatdacat63]

Hey do you remember all those videos of Fernando smelling flowers? Haha yeah....

[mirrortouchedsea]

Ah, the hospital. Shu always hated the hospital. So…sterile, so clean. It was for the health of the patients, obviously, but it wouldn’t kill them to add some color somewhere. A nice painting would do wonders, especially in this room. He’s…not really sure why a child was in this wing, a place usually reserved for the elderly. Children’s rooms in hospitals tended to be brighter, more colorful. Everyone deserved that. 

Reaping children was a hard job, even for someone immortal like himself. A life cut too short by illness, violence, or sheer accident was always a tragedy. Nobody liked to do it but Shu volunteered for it every time. It was painful, but he wanted the children to be in a comforting presence as they passed on. Something he hadn’t been granted in his own time. The girl on the bed was sick. She wasn’t due to die for a few days yet but he thought he could spend a few days with her before then. At least, for part of them. Death never waits, after all. 

Shu often comes in during the early hours when visiting the sick children. If they’re awake, they may be able to see him, talk to him. He smiles and laughs at their bad jokes, listens to their woes. It is easier to move on with someone you trust by your side after all. 

He comes in around 2am to visit the most recent addition to his list. She has a few weeks yet but her condition is terminal. When he makes eye contact with her, she curls up in her hospital bed. Maguro Mikejima, the name on her files read. He smiles. 

“Hello, Maguro.” Children, he had realized, were more responsive to their first names. “I’m not here to hurt you.” 

She uncurls slightly, though still eyes him with a wary look. “W-who are you?” 

He kneels by her bedside. “You can call me Shu. How are you feeling?” 

“Are you one of the doctors?” 

“Something like that.” 

She relaxes. “My brother told me not to talk to strangers but…if you’re a doctor then it’s okay.” Shu takes note of a small stuffed toy sitting next to her on the bed. 

“I just want to make sure you’re feeling okay. Are you having trouble sleeping?” 

“Mmm…I dunno. Sometimes I guess, like right now. It kind of hurts to breathe.” 

“I see…” Shu raises a hand and looks at Maguro, waiting for a sign that he could go on. She nods, somewhat hesitantly, but it’s enough. Shu places his hand on her forehead and channels his energy into her. It was a temporary solution and his magic could only make things easier. It wouldn’t work on the underlying problem. She should be fine for the rest of the night at least. “Does that feel any better?” 

“Mmm!” She hums happily. 

“Good. I have to go now, but I’ll see you again soon, okay?” He held out his hand in a pinky promise, another thing he realized children liked. 

“You promise?” She wraps her own pinky around his. 

“I promise.”

[savventeen]

carmen cygni

latin, meaning 'swan song' a metaphorical phrase for a final gesture, effort, or performance given just before death or retirement

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader rating: M wc: 1.7k prompt: @caratober day 20 - zombie summary: while out searching for supplies, you get bit trying to escape a small hoard of zombies. seungcheol is forced to do the unthinkable. warnings: angst, seriously so much angst, all hurt no comfort, major character death (you), blood, guns, mercy killing, mentions of suicide, brief suicidal ideation tags: zombie au, seriously this is just pain guys i'm warning you, non-linear narrative, flashbacks, some mild religious talks a/n: this was originally a vmin fic i posted to ao3 (on valentine's day of all things holy shit was i okay) and decided to repost here for caratober. i am so sorry. (also fun fact it was the first time i'd ever cried while writing a fic :') this song is 98% to blame for this

five.

"Seungcheol."

It's the way you say his name that tells him something is very, very wrong. The syllables are weighted, heavy, resigned — two stones dropped in the ocean, sinking fast into a suffocating oblivion.

You say his name like the world is ending all over again.

Seungcheol finishes barricading the door from the pack of roamers outside, goosebumps rising on his skin through his sweat as dread courses through him in an icy wave, and he turns.

The first thing he sees is the blood. It's coated your hand where you have it pressed to your right side, just above the hip.

"Fuck, y/n—" His mind is immediately sent spiraling into an anxious overdrive, wondering when and how and where you could have gotten hurt, whether the basic supplies you have between the two of you will be enough until the roamers leave and you can make it back to camp, if—

And then you lift your hand, revealing the wound. It's messy, flesh torn and bleeding steadily — but despite all of that, it's impossible to miss the distinct impression of a set of human teeth.

You've been bit.

You've been bit, and the world drops out from beneath Seungcheol's feet.

"No." He stumbles closer, trembling fingers reaching out and stopping just shy of the wound, before looking into your watery eyes. "No."

It's a command if he's ever given one — because with all of the things the both of you have had to suffer through, had to see and hear and experience these last few years, this had never been a possibility. Never.

Never like this. Never you.

The hand not covering your bite comes up and fists into the front of his shirt. "Cheol."

A million things go unsaid with that single syllable, but Seungcheol can hear them all, can see each one etched into your devastated expression. And because he will always, always, put your needs above his own, he shoves all the crumbling pieces of his own heart down and down and away, instead making room for you to step into his arms and cry against his chest — a mourning for something that has yet to be lost.

You grieve, and Seungcheol refuses to shed a single tear.

four.

"Y/n? What's the matter— why are you crying?"

You giggled, angelic as always, even through the tears. "I'm just... really happy, Cheollie."

"You are?"

"Yeah, just..." You bit your lip, and without thinking, Seungcheol reached out to smooth his thumb over it. You sighed into a smile and leaned into his touch.

"We've all lost so much, you know?" you continued. "But we were still able to find each other — able to find all the others and make a family. And now we have a relatively safe place to live, and I just—"

You beamed at him, laughing, even as tears continued to trickle down your cheeks. Seungcheol wiped them away as gently as he could, and you brought up the little wildflower you'd been holding, one you must've plucked from between the dozens of others that grew in the abandoned courtyard of your new home.

You continued with a nostalgic grin. "Did you know, the first thing you ever gave me was a handful of these?"

Seungcheol blinked down at the flower. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'd just saved you from the homicidal goose that was lurking on the campus quad, and you ripped out a bunch of these right out of the ground and gave them to me as thanks, and then you said—"

"My knight in ripped denim armor," he continued for you, the memory coming back to him with a smile, "can I take you out on a date?"

You beamed at him, eyes turning into crescents, and Seungcheol thought that the world had never felt more beautiful.

three.

You look dead.

"Y/n, hey," Seungcheol whispers, carefully nudging your bare shoulder. Your skin has lost most, if not all, of its color, and you're drenched in sweat. For a moment, your eyes remain closed, unresponsive, and his stomach swoops in fear, but then your eyes flutter open and he breathes out a shaky sigh.

"There you are," he murmurs, cradling your jaw with one hand. "Drink some water for me, yeah?" You nod, and he brings the nearly empty water bottle to your lips, tilting it slowly so you can take little sips. After a few mouthfuls, you hum to indicate you've had enough, and he sets it back down before gently pulling you to lean against him once more.

You let your head loll against his shoulder, groaning quietly; you start to reach out a shaky hand between the two of you, and he takes it immediately, twining your fingers together. You sigh, content.

For a moment, Seungcheol almost forgets.

"You're gonna need to do it soon, Cheollie," you mumble.

Almost.

His fingers twitch in your hold. He swallows.

A part of him wants to play dumb, wants to put off thinking of the horror of the inevitable as long as possible, but that would be the selfish thing to do, he thinks. So he squeezes your hand and whispers, "I know."

You squeeze back. "And you're not allowed to follow me, okay?"

Seungcheol stills. "What?"

"I know you, Choi Seungcheol, and I know what you're gonna wanna do after— after. But you have to promise me that you won't, okay?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Something's encased his lungs in a vice grip.

You continue, "I need you to be strong for me, and I need you to get back to the group, and I need you to survive, okay?" Your eyes, redrimmed and glossy as they are, are wide and pleading, desperate in a way he's not sure he's ever seen before.

Seungcheol hadn't known that his heart could break any more than it already has. "Y/n."

"I know you won't want to live at first," you forge on, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, "I wouldn't either. But Shua and Hannie need you, Cheol. Channie needs you. They'll all need you, and you'll need them."

You're the one they need, he doesn't say — bites back behind clenched teeth, you're the one I need, the one I've always needed, the one I won't ever stop needing.

He closes his eyes, your name falling past his lips in a plea or a prayer.

Suddenly, he's being yanked toward you by the collar, coming nose to nose with your fiery, bloodshot gaze. "I need you to promise me."

And for the first time in his life, Seungcheol hates the fact that he's never been able to deny you anything. "Fuck you, y/n," he chokes out past a sob, reaching out to cradle your pallid face and press a trembling kiss to your lips.

"Seungcheol."

"Okay," he croaks, stealing one more kiss before bringing your sweaty foreheads together. "Okay, I promise."

Anything for you. Even this. Even this.

two.

"Lay with me for a bit, Cheollie?"

His smile was soft as he easily agreed, "Of course." He made himself comfortable in the grass next to you, making sure the two of you were connected shoulder to hip.

You both lost track of how long you spent staring at the stars in silence together, but eventually Seungcheol broke the quiet with a murmur. "What're we looking for?"

You hummed. "The way to heaven."

"Heaven?"

"Yeah." Your hand snuck its way into his and gently squeezed. "My aunt believed in capital 'G' God — used to point out all the different constellations to me and then tell me that when Jesus came back for everyone that he'd take us all up into heaven through the stars."

"Hmm." He chanced a glance at your profile. "Is that what you believe?"

You sighed. "I don't know if I believe in anything, anymore."

"Yeah." He squeezed your hand.

A few minutes passed in peaceful quiet.

"Cheollie?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me something?"

Another squeeze of your hand. "Anything."

You swallowed. "Stay with me forever?"

Seungcheol rolled over onto his side so that he could look down at you, the love of his life, and tilted your face towards him with a gentle finger crooked under your chin. Voice full of a devout sort of conviction, he whispered, "There's not a single place I'd rather be than right by your side, forever and always."

"Forever and always?"

The kiss, soft and chaste and a universe all on its own, was answer enough.

one.

"Seungcheol."

Your voice is so quiet now, barely a rasp of air, that he almost doesn't hear you even as he cradles you against his chest. "Cheol, it's time."

He wonders if this is what drowning feels like.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and swallows the lump clogging his throat. "Okay, love. Tell me what you need."

"Sing for me?"

Anything for you — even if it breaks me. "Yeah," Seungcheol's voice cracks, and he futilely clears his throat. "Yeah, of course. What song?"

I might not die, but this is going to kill me. You're killing me.

"S-Something pretty. Please."

Don't make me do this. Please, God, anyone, don't make me have to do this.

"Okay. A pretty song for my pretty baby." With one arm he pulls you impossibly closer to him, and with the other, he slowly reaches for the pistol strapped to his thigh.

He can barely get the notes out past his tears, but he does his best to carry the tune of your favorite lullaby, gently swaying you both in time with imaginary instruments. The gun feels impossibly heavy in his hold, and it only grows heavier as he slowly brings it up behind your head.

For a moment, he considers changing the angle just a bit — just enough.

But he made a promise. He made a promise, and even if it means living the rest of his life as something less than human — not a roamer in body and mind, but in spirit and soul — he'll keep his promise.

For you, he'll do anything.

(zero.)

He pulls the trigger.

And for the second and final time, Choi Seungcheol's entire world comes to an end.

[catboydan]

fiance got me a kindle for my birthday <3

[rinhaler]

Making a hot chocolate so I can sit and edit my Shidou fic !!

[youngpettyqueen]

would you consider doing hawkeye and trapper with "Let me take care of you this time" ?

THANK YOU FOR WAITING SO PATIENTLY ANON listen ive been trying to nail down a scenario to put this Piercentyre idea into for AGES and this prompt gave me everything I wanted and then I procrastinated on it anyways BUT its here at last! and I sincerely hope you enjoy it after waiting so patiently!

Hawkeye pushes himself up from his knees as Ginger and Klinger move off with the wounded soldier he’d been tending to. He watches them head straight for the hospital, both of them quickly vanishing from sight in the silver of the storm, before he turns back and heads back into the fray. One down, countless others to go.

Triage is in complete chaos, everyone sprinting around like chickens without heads as they try to scramble all of the wounded into the hospital as fast as possible. They had no warning for these wounded- not a call, not an announcement, not even Radar’s borderline-supernatural hearing. One minute they were all inside sheltering from this downpour, the next Jeeps were rolling in, the roar of their engines drowned out by the constant roaring thunder overhead.

The sky opened up early this morning and so far it’s showing no signs of closing back up. Hawkeye’s never seen a storm this bad. He’s been here a couple months now, he’s dealt with the worst heat the Korean summer has to offer, but this is the first thunderstorm he’s had to grapple with. The rain is coming down in violent sheets, turning everything pale and silver and spraying up mist where it strikes the ground. The lightning is bright enough to light everything up white, and the accompanying thunder is loud enough to rattle his bones. 

He moves through triage at a jog, dodging around other moving bodies and keeping an eye out for a free patient. He throws a hand up to try and shield his eyes, but it doesn’t help much. He can barely see a thing in this downpour. 

Someone rushes by, clipping his shoulder hard. Hawkeye stumbles, tries to right himself, but his foot sinks deep into a mud puddle and momentum pitches him sideways. He feels his ankle wrench in way it’s definitely not supposed to, pain bolting up his leg, then he hits the ground hard on his side, splattering mud all over what little of him wasn’t already covered in the stuff. 

He bites out a few curses as he pushes himself up to sit. “For fuck’s sake-” He hisses. He tries to push himself to his feet, but his ankle immediately buckles under his weight, dropping him back into the mud with a grunt, “Come on, damnit, come on-“ He tries again, but this attempt proves just as futile. He curses again, looking around if there’s anything within reach he can use as leverage to pull himself up. He doesn’t have time for this-

“Hawkeye!” Someone shouts over the roar of the storm. He looks up to see Trapper jogging over, his arm up to shield his eyes. He comes to a stop in front of him, concerned frown fixed on his face, “You alright? That looked like a nasty fall.” 

Hawkeye is suddenly grateful for the intensity of the storm- it means Trapper won’t be able to see the frustrated, embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. “I’m fine,” He grumbles, “I just need to-” He tries one more time to push himself up, but it’s no use. His injured ankle trembles violently underneath him, throbbing fiercely in protest, and he quickly sinks back down before it can give out again, “Damnit-!” He hisses.

Trapper quickly drops down to kneel with him, placing a steadying hand on his arm, “Yeah, you look just fine to me,” He says, sarcasm dripping off his voice like the rain dripping off his coat. His eyes flick down to where Hawkeye clutches at his ankle, and his expression softens, “What’s goin’ on with your ankle? You twist it?” He asks, his tone growing gentle. 

Hawkeye hesitates for a beat. Just a beat, because then Trapper’s eyes are back on his face, and he looks so damn worried that he immediately caves with an irritated sigh. “Into a damn pretzel,” He gruffs. He rubs at it through his boot, trying to ease the throbbing pain, “It hurts like hell, Trap- think I sprained it pretty bad.” He admits. That blushing, burning feeling is spreading across his face and lighting up the tips of his ears.

Trapper’s frown deepens as he considers him for a moment, looking like he’s assessing the situation. “Alright, I got an idea,” He ducks in closer, “Here, put your arm around my shoulders.” He instructs.

Hawkeye complies, even as his brow furrows in confusion. “Wha-“ He doesn’t get a chance to even get a word out- Trapper wraps an arm around his back and slips the other under his knees, and in one ridiculously easy motion he scoops him up into his arms, “Trapper!” He yelps, throwing his other arm around Trapper’s neck as he climbs to his feet, “What the hell are you doing?” He demands.

Trapper turns and starts heading for the hospital. “Carrying you,” He replies, nonchalant, like this is a regular occurrence, “I thought that was obvious.” 

“I don’t need to be carried!” Hawkeye protests, indignantly trying to wiggle his way free, “C’mon, put me down, I can hobble just fine!” He exclaims. Being carried inside like a swooning bride is the absolute last thing he needs right now. He's never going to live it down. Ever.

Trapper just tightens his hold on him, effectively and offensively easily preventing his escape. “Sure you can, but you don’t have to,” He replies, undeterred in his stride, “Now quit bein’ stubborn and enjoy the ride before you make me fall and snap an ankle.” He advises.

Hawkeye does quit squirming at that, grumbling irritably as he settles in Trapper’s arms. It’s ridiculous, frankly, how easily Trapper holds him still. How easily he lifted him. He knew Trapper was strong, of course he did- he’s been living with the guy and seeing him every single day for the last two months- but still. It’s one thing to see him scoop a nurse up into his arms and carry her off to a secluded tent. It’s a very different thing to be the one in his arms. 

He gets the appeal, now. He can feel the strength in Trapper’s arms where they- 

He clears his throat. “You know, Trap, when I imagined being swept off my feet, I never imagined it was you doing the sweeping.” He huffs. He notices Radar spot them heading by, stop short, and almost trip over his own two feet as he does a double take. He gives him a wave.

“You never pictured me as your knight in shinin’ armour?” Trapper asks, drawing his attention back to him, “You wound me. And here I was thinkin’ what a great damsel in distress you make.” He teases, giving Hawkeye a smug grin. 

“Damsel in distress?” Hawkeye echoes, with as much mock offence as he can inject into his voice, “I’m not a damsel in distress, I’m a princess. And I demand to be addressed as such.” He turns his nose up in the air, fixing Trapper with a haughty look.

“I think I liked you better grumpy,” Trapper mutters, his eyes gleaming good-naturedly, “But sure, alright, your Highness. I’ll even get you one of Klinger’s tiaras,” He offers, “Make it official.” 

Hawkeye leans his head on Trapper’s shoulder, just to be especially obnoxious. “Something with sapphires,” He requests, “They bring out my eyes.” He bats his lashes for emphasis.

Trapper rolls his eyes. “As you wish, Princess.” He ducks through the hospital doors, helpfully being propped open by Nurse Baker, who fixes them with an odd look as they whisk past. Inside, the hospital is just as chaotic as triage outside. People run around carrying bags of whole blood, plasma, handfuls of gauze, armfuls of bottles. Trapper dodges around Ginger and Klinger as they rush past with a now empty stretcher, heading right back out into the storm.

“Alright, hang tight,” Trapper says as he looks around for somewhere unoccupied, “Just gonna get us a parking spot…” He maneuvers his way through the hustle and bustle, getting off to the side where he can duck through a door into Radar’s office, which is significantly quieter. 

“Did you just want to get me alone?” Hawkeye asks as Trapper continues through the office and right through Henry’s doors, “Trapper, you devil. You could’ve just asked.” He teases.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trapper chuckles as he sets Hawkeye down to sit on Henry’s desk, “There ya go, Princess. Safe and sound,” He pulls up one of the chairs as he speaks, takes a seat in front of him, “Now, let’s have a look at that ankle.” He takes Hawkeye’s leg in gentle hands, wrapping one hand around his calf while he sets about carefully working his laces loose.

Hawkeye winces at the movement, his ankle twinging. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” He says. He appreciates the sentiment here, he really does, but he’d much rather deal with this himself, “I can take it from here. There are actual wounded who need your help, so just leave some crutches within reach and I’ll meet you at our usual tables.” He goes for humour, trying to mask his discomfort.

Trapper stops what he’s doing, gives him an incredulous look. “Hawk, you can’t walk,” He points out, like Hawkeye needs the reminder, “I think that qualifies you as actually wounded.” 

Hawkeye looks away. “C’mon, Trap, I tripped in the mud.” He mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. His face is going red all over again, he can feel the heat itching uncomfortably under his skin.

“And? You’re still hurt,” Trapper counters, “Hurt’s hurt. Doesn’t matter how it happened. Besides,” He leans over to the side, forcing the eye contact again, “If the roles here were reversed, would you let me treat myself?” He challenges.

Hawkeye stubbornly tries to look away again, but finds he can’t help but look back because Trapper’s stare doesn’t relent. Trapper’s got him, and he knows it. He sighs quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and conceding, “…I guess not.”

“Didn’t think so,” Trapper replies, a bit smug. When Hawkeye doesn’t look any less displeased, however, his expression softens, “Look,” He sighs, “You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged ever since you got here. You’re always takin’ care of everyone, even if they aren’t your patient to take care of. And it works out great, cause you’re such a damn good doctor, but… you’re not Superman,” He reminds him, “You gotta let someone take care of you every once in a while. So let me take care of you this time, ok?” 

Hawkeye wants to argue. He wants to argue and put up a fight and be stubborn as all hell, he wants to annoy Trapper into leaving him to deal with this mess he got himself into, but… he can’t. He can’t deny that he wants the help, the care. And that must show on his face, because a grin is slowly spreading across Trapper’s face. The sort of grin that he gets when he knows he’s won.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, uncrossing his arms and letting his defensive posture slack. “…Ok,” He agrees, relenting at last, “Ok, alright. Guess I’d be stupid to say no after that little speech.” He can’t help but smile a bit as Tripper’s crooked grin only broadens, showing off teeth. That damn smile of his is contagious.

“Very stupid,” Trapper agrees, “Now, let’s see what we’re working with…”

He returns to his task of loosening the laces of Hawkeye’s boot. Hawkeye sits back, leaning on his hands and watching Trapper work. It’s funny; just a couple minutes ago he was easily carrying him through camp, his arms strong and secure. Now his hands are impossibly gentle, careful where they touch. 

It’s nice, being cared for like this. It’s also nice to be told to accept the care for his own sake, though he’ll never admit to that. Anyone else would’ve appealed to his doctor’s way of thinking, told him he’d be of no use to patients if he didn’t rest and take care of himself. They’d be right to take that angle, it would work, but it’s nice to hear Trapper say  he should accept the care just because he deserves it. 

Trapper’s a nice guy. After two months of forced cohabitation, Hawkeye feels like they’ve gotten to know things about each other that most people wouldn’t know until a couple more years into the friendship. He’s seen a few different sides of Trapper; the joker, the womanizer, the surgeon, maybe even a bit of the soldier. And he can conclude that Trapper is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a good person. A good person with a big grin and an even bigger heart. 

The arms are pretty big, too. Hawkeye can see why the nurses are so-

His thoughts screech to a halt and tumble apart like a poorly constructed house of cards. Again. Again, about Trapper and strong arms. Again, about understanding the allure. He doesn't get a chance to collect those thoughts before Trapper slips his boot off, however, the action so gentle his wince is more out of surprise than anything.

“Sorry.” Trapper says anyways, and he looks like he means it. 

Hawkeye has a funny feeling in his stomach as he meets his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” He replies quietly.

If Trapper notices what’s going on, he doesn’t comment. Just gets back to work examining Hawkeye’s ankle. Hawkeye, meanwhile, can only hope that it’s dark enough in this office that the broad strokes of pink painting his cheeks aren’t visible. 

Oh. He thinks. Concludes. Realizes.

Oh, boy. 

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 22, I, uh, went to go wander Avoalet for fanfiction purposes and wound up... not doing what I was going to do >.> The cat had to yell at me so I'd stop and do the art routine, because he knows my schedule better than I do XD

So yeah, just a little bit of work done tonight, mostly because I erased half of it and started over. Doing some outlining on the grass behind Frey, and it's simultaneously easier and harder than it looks lol. Easier because I'm not really focusing on what kind of grass, but harder because I have to make these random lines look a) like grass and b) like they're properly random

I erased a ton of work because it wound up looking too uniform XD

[notepadsandtealeaves]

literally me rn so prepare your bodies ig lmao...

[pxrxmoore]

out of the depths of fuckin nowhere while running a fever last night my torchwood obsession was re-awakened within me. and also apparently livejournal still exists and people still post there???????

[daddyplasmius]

*sweats nervously*

[kitten4sannie]

sleepover

pairing: perverted bsf! wooyoung x fem! reader feat. a comatose mingi (he’s asleep on the bed lmao…or is he…)

summary: wooyoung is more than willing to hold you when you’re afraid during your horror movie marathon, and even more willing to help distract you like a good friend does.

wc: 1.4k

warnings: perverted dom! wooyoung, subby innocent! reader, bro is convincing and manipulative okay, cnc/dubcon-ish vibes (if that’s not your thing feel free to skip!!), coercion/corruption, exhibitionism (all of the following is done right next to mingi), brief kissing, groping, fingering, initial orgasm denial,, tit play + spit, rough unprotected sex, creampie, this is a wild one idkidkkkkk

a/n: wooyo has been haunting my brain lately so i had no choice but to write this >~< i hope you enjoy <33 alsoo i’ll be posting one more corruption themed fic very soon that feats frat boy san and minyunhwa~

song rec: if you think i’m pretty - artemas

“I told you not to put this movie on, Woo. It’s way too scary,” you complained whinily into your best friend’s shoulder, shielding your eyes from the suspenseful scene playing out on the laptop sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Mingi was the one who wanted to watch it, you know,” Wooyoung chided, causally wrapping his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your bare arm up and down in a comforting manner.

“Well, Mingi’s passed out.” Pouting, you pointed to your other friend that was curled up underneath the comforter beside you, his eyes shut. “He’s not even watching, so what’s the point?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a pussy.” His cold fingers made their way down to your waist to squeeze at it, making you jump from the sudden contact. “Oh, I see….Do you think the monster’s gonna get ya?”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!” you whisper-shouted, as to not wake up Mingi. You pushed on his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly against your hand. Was it racing like yours was? And, when did he get so close to you? His hand was already running up and down the bare skin of your thigh, causing your thin shorts to ride up more and more, but you didn’t have the nerve to confront him about it. Your pout grew. “I’m really scared, okay?”

“Oh, you poor baby,” Wooyoung cooed softly into your ear, his words laced with faux pity, his sharpened gaze focused solely on your blushing face. “Do you want me to help you, Y/N? Distract you from the scary movie?”

“Y-yes, please…”

You didn’t know what you were getting into, but you trusted that Wooyoung had your best interest in mind. It was then that he gently coaxed you further into his arms, lying comfortably against him as you faced the laptop screen once again. Goosebumps began to spread across your limbs from underneath the warm comforter, but it wasn’t from the frightening movie — it was from Wooyoung’s hand slipping underneath your shorts, his slender fingers rubbing at your pulsing cunt through your panties.

“W-Wooyoung…” you croaked weakly, your face and body growing so hot, you could pass out. Friends didn’t do this sort of thing, did they?

“Shhhh, baby, just look at the screen…yeah, just like that…” he sighed softly, his warm breath fanning over your neck, now concentrating on the way your tank top clung to your softness of your tits, how your nipples grew hard enough to poke through the thin material, groaning when he found your clit through your panties, rubbing at it in slow, small circles.

“B-but we’re friends, Woo…” You made a sad attempt at pushing his hand away, the moral debate you were having internally slowly fizzling away the longer Wooyoung touched you.

“Isn’t this what friends are for?” Wooyoung persisted, pulling your panties to the side just in time for his fingers to dip in between your soaked folds. “And, fuck, you’re so wet right now, Y/N. It feels good, doesn’t it? What’s so wrong with that, baby?”

“But, nnngh…Mingi’s right next to us…” You began to melt into Wooyoung’s arms and the soft mattress below you, unable to resist spreading your legs out for him, your thigh even resting against Mingi’s, not noticing when it shifted just as two of Wooyoung’s digits slipped inside you.

Licking at his lips, Wooyoung then pressed them onto your cheek, egging you on in a low voice, “Then, tell me to stop, baby.” He began to fuck his fingers into you at a fast pace, your walls clenching around them. “Right now. Say it.” Now, he was relentlessly rubbing his thumb into your clit with his free hand, still working your cunt, hooking his digits against the spot that made you spasm, your body growing warmer and heavier. When you pouted up at him and whined, he simply mirrored your helpless expression. “What’s the matter, baby? Hm?”

“Oh– fuck, right there…” you moaned out, not even attempting to look at the laptop screen in front of you, instead solely focused on your best friend beside you, so desperate to cum, you began to roll your hips down every time his fingers plunged into you.

“Yeah? You’re feeling really good now, aren’t you, Y/N? Now that you’re nice and full? Just look at you, baby…You can’t help but fuck yourself dumb on my fingers, huh?” Wooyoung looked like the monster from the movie now, eyes full of hunger, like he was ready to eat you up.

“Uh-huh, uh-huhhh…” Just as your sounds of pleasure began to crescendo, your mind growing cloudier by the second, pulling at the sheets below you because you were right there, Wooyoung ceased his movement completely, leaving you high and dry. “No, please, don’t stop, please…!”

Wooyoung gave you a look of indifference, much like a cat that suddenly wasn’t interested in playtime anymore. “Show me your tits. Maybe then I’ll make you cum.”

Desperate for your best friend’s attention and touch, you slowly rolled your tank top up until your tits spilled out, tears pricking at your eyes. How did you get here? Why did Wooyoung’s deliciously dark gaze successfully distract you from the paralyzing shame you felt? Or is that what made you wet? The way you were slutting yourself out for your best friend while the other was sleeping right next to you? “Please make me cum, Y-Youngie…”

“Fuck, you’re so cute, come here.” Now, Wooyoung was on top of you, leaving as much of his saliva on your tits as possible, squeezing one when he was noisily sucking on the other, his dilated eyes never leaving your teary ones. “Can I fuck you, Y/N? I’ll make you cum, I promise…I need to be inside you, baby, please, you’re so fucking hot…” Desperate for release, Wooyoung lowered his sweatpants until his heavy cock dropped onto your bare cunt, rubbing himself along it, making your mind grow that much more empty. “Just the tip, okay? That’s okay, yeah?”

Before you knew it, you were nodding, and just like that, he was inside you, your best friend, using you like a cocksleeve. Wooyoung was ramming his cock into your cunt like he was trying to knock you up. “That’s a good slut, fuckkk, taking me so well…” You tried to moan, to speak, to say anything, but you couldn’t, not with the way his tongue suddenly went down your throat.

All you could do was cling onto Wooyoung, your nails digging into his skin when it felt like the tip of his cock was pounding into your cervix, almost growing dizzy. When you heard your best friend groaning about how he was getting ready to fuck you full of his cum, you gasped, unable to talk, short, broken moans being punched out of you each time Wooyoung slammed himself into you, your thighs hooking around his waist once his hot load began to pour into you. It was then that you turned your head just in time to realize Mingi was watching you intently, his plush lips parted just enough to let drool slip past, catching onto the way that something was moving rapidly underneath the comforter somewhere near his abdomen.

“Told you she would put out, didn’t I, Min?” Wooyoung mused smugly, fucking you through the orgasm that tore through your used body, using your bruised hips like handlebars as he did so.

“You were so right, Woo, so, so right,” Mingi sighed out, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him, leaving a few watery cumshots on the inside of your comforter and his hand.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to cum again, instead just trying to catch your breath, hiding your face underneath one of your wrists, at least until Wooyoung pulled it down and made you look at the both of them.

“You’ll let Mingi have a turn, won’t you, Y/N? It’s only fair, right?”

Mingi nodded in agreement, before leaning in, licking across his teeth. “Having my cock inside your little used cunt next will make another good ‘distraction’, don’t you think?”

Even though the credits were rolling on the laptop behind them, the monsters hadn’t left. They were right there in front of you, waiting for your permission to ravage you. You couldn’t help but nod. They were your best friends, after all.

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[mirrortouchedsea]

.....no wips this week either. i'll try and get something for next week and also to the last request in my inbox this week. i'm just anxiously waiting for housing notifications from my summer job and i havent gotten anything!!!!!

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐍𝐚𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

summary: Oscar misses a team meeting, but when Lando goes to look for him, he gets a surprise

author's note: i finally published my first f1 fic!! sorry it's so short, but I have a bunch of other drafts I'm working on rn that will hopefully be finished soon. also, i literally wrote this at midnight inspired by a picture i saw on Pinterest so it's kinda bad but oh well

warnings: none, just fluff (600+ words)

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

It was no secret to anyone that Oscar was a clingy boyfriend. The other drivers loved to compare him to a koala because of how often he would wrap himself around you, pulling you close to him and resting his head on top of yours. Although he often annoyed others by getting distracted by you, they couldn't even blame you for it and even Zak had to admit his clingyness was actually quite cute.

Today however, it was annoying – especially to Lando who had spent the last 20 minutes searching for his teammate after he failed to show up to the team meeting. He had already checked everywhere he could think of and was beginning to contemplate calling the police and reporting the younger boy missing when he heard a faint snore coming from a small room on his left. Slowly pushing open the door, Lando was met with the sight of you and Oscar sleeping on a sofa, your limbs so tightly wrapped around each other that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

As quietly as he could, Lando took out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of you and posted it on his story. He slid it back in his pocket, wondering how to wake his teammate without disturbing you, when Oscar stirred, stretching out his long limbs and opening his bleary eyes.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Lando teased, causing the other boy to groan.

Oscar wriggled his arm out from under you, bringing it up to rub his eyes. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's almost 2"

"WHAT!" Oscar shot up, accidentally waking you in the process, "shit I missed the meeting didn't I."

"Oz? What's wrong?" You spoke as you sat up, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep.

He froze, looking at you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. "Um... I forgot to set an alarm and I kinda slept through the team meeting."

"Oscar!" You scolded with a laugh, " Zak is gonna be so mad!"

Lando chuckled, making you jump as you hadn't realised he was there. "Oh yeah, he's pissed by the way."

Dragging a hand down his face with a sigh, your boyfriend reluctantly pulled himself out of your arms and stood up. "I'm gonna go catch up with the team," he announced, raking a hand through his hair as he rushed out to the garage.

"Oh I can't wait to see what Zak is gonna say about this" Lando began, a grinning cheekily at you. Narrowing your eyes at him in response, he held up his hands in surrender. "Ok, alright, I'm going!"

Smiling wryly at his childish antics, you began packing away your stuff, knowing that Oscar would be finished soon as he tended to become antisocial when tired. Just as you finished putting the last item in your bag, the Australian appeared in the doorway, affection laced with exhaustion in his eyes as he observed you. When you had finished, he held out his hand for you to grab as he led you through the McLaren hospitality. You had almost reached the exit when a familiar voice rang out behind you.

"Ah, Oscar, there you are!"

You both turned around guiltily to come face to face with a less than pleased Zak Brown. "We missed you in the meeting earlier, mate. I hope that nap was worth it."

"Oh yeah sorry I was um-" Oscar paused, a frown overtaking his features as he realised what the older man had said. "Wait how do you know about that?"

Zak chuckled, calling over his shoulder as he walked away, "Let's just say a certain someone isn't very good at keeping secrets."

"Lando, that absolute muppet!"

[verareids]

feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

~

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

~

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)