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lmelodie · 9 months ago

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Familiar Territory

BlackIce for Valentines Day!!! LET'S GOOO! A few years after Chance and Choice, BlackIce being back together for a hot second by this point.

I'm gonna be so fr, this little one shot has made me realize that I maybe don't know how to write fluff for these bitches?? It was harder than I thought it would be! There are other more fluffy concepts in my wips but this one has a lot more substance.

Oh, also y'all remember Ryder from this little doodle dump? The Mermaid? His character got overhauled and his name is Rowan now lol.

Bonus doodle at the very end, ENJOY!

Anyone from the magical realms will tell you, with varying levels of jealousy, that there are plenty of places that a magical being can roam about freely amongst human kind with minimal or even no cloaking involved. One of these being New York City, wherein everyone seems at least a little bit off kilter or odd in a way that blends everyone together in their strangeness. So realistically in the height of the Christmas season, no one would ever notice, or at least look twice at a very seasonally appropriate man in a blue suit in the midst of an otherwise normal group of friends.

"Join us! Join us! JOIN US!" Lucy’s chants fade into and then quickly out of earshot to Killian as her and Jack skate by yet another time on their route around the rink. She turns around on her skates and holds onto Jack’s shoulder so he can keep pulling her along as she waves down her fellow redhead as they go for another lap around.

She shouted the same thing to him for the last five laps and just like those other times he paid her no mind, glued to his chain smoking spot leaning against a nearby column.

The ambience of the Winter Village rink during Christmas on the edge of dusk was the pinnacle of experiencing the Christmas spirit that particular day. Even in her early twenties her enthusiasm for such things has never wavered, bouncing off the walls all day and Jack, Killian and Rowan were all subject to her special brand of holiday energy. Which includes her insisting that Killian should get out on the ice with them.

He only showed up maybe an hour ago, knowing that Jack was somewhere in the city, but he overlooked the inevitable presence of his emotional support dormouse and her new squeeze. So the boogeyman patiently waits for them to finish off on the side of the rink, watching her spin back around to take Jack’s arm for the casual stroll. His presence unassumingly creates a breach of space in the crowd of civilians around him who fear to approach him any further for reasons they themselves cannot articulate.

“Behind you!” Rowan shouts out to the pair as he quickly catches up to them on their rotation.

A curiously out of sorts human pyromancer that swept the young woman off her feet about 6 months ago. The whole met in college love story between a wizard and a sorceress with the stack of dropped books that he offered to help her with and everything. A rigamarole of horrible cliches that they've been enjoying to no end.

He quickly catches up to the pair and crashes into Lucy from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing her forward and away from Jack as they slow to a stop further ahead. She chuckles in good spirits with him all the same.

“How'd I do?” Rowan asks through gasps of air as he brushes back the brown shaggy hair from his face.

Lucy rolls up the sleeve on her overcoat to check her watch, “Fifteen laps around in…forty five minutes.”

"What!? Oh come on! I was really pushing it too,” he chuckles breathlessly.

“That's not a bad time at all! I don't think.”

"Eh. I've seen faster," Jack interjects as he quickly passes them by.

“Nobody asked you,” she shouts after him, quickly tilting her head up to Rowan. “Don't listen to him, your time was fine. If it's any consolation you were fast in my heart.”

Rowan snickers, “That doesn't even make sense.”

“It does so! Physics works differently in my heart. And what makes even more sense is getting a cocoa break,” she can feel her date dropping his arms from her waist as she takes his hand and pulls him along. “Keeping warm is important when someone likes to bite peoples fingers!”

Jack turns over his shoulder at the call out as they catch back up to him, “Excuse me? You've got the wrong guy here. I've worked hard to scrub that reputation clean ya know, and you're over here dragging my name back through the mud again. If you're looking for a finger biter, look at him.”

He vaguely gestures to Killian on the sidelines as the three of them complete the last lap and skate back up to the gate they entered at. Jack watches Lucy and Rowan exit the rink while he lingers behind on the ice and throws his elbows on the ledge. On cue, Killian throws the half burnt cigarette onto the floor and snuffs it out with boot, throwing his hands into his pockets to stroll over to where Jack has stopped.

“Your turn,” he says with a smug grin.

He rolls his eyes, “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Because you know you can't do it?”

“Yeah, actually. So what,” Killian shifts his weight slightly over to stand a fraction closer to the open gateway to the rink, the throngs of people moving about around him also move accordingly.

“So, I've been trying to teach you how for sky knows how long. It's your own fault you don't know.”

“None of that has been teaching, it was sabotaging,” he provides a ghost of a smile, “It's not a skill I need to know. There has never been a time where skating on the ice has ever been useful to me.”

“Says who?” Jack replies, “Who's to say it won't come in handy in the knick of time one of these days?”

“Me. That's never gonna happen so I don't need to learn.”

Jack gets an idea. Well, Jack had the idea ever since Killian showed up and has been simmering this entire time. It's the same idea he always has in locations and circumstances like these.

“Mhm, right. So why are you here exactly?” he asks with an air of feigned innocence.

Killian sighs, “Because I actually wanna do something fun for a change.”

“What, you're telling me that small children face planting onto the ice isn't fun?”

Killian looks out onto the ice with a small chuckle to see if any such occurrences would make themselves loudly known, “Oh don't get me wrong, that's always funny. Especially if you get a few right after the other in a stupid little domino effect. Or if all of them go down at once at the same time.”

Jack snorts in choking back a laugh, “Exactly. And I'm sure it would be a lot funnier from a better vantage point,” He says, motioning to the open gate.

Kills shakes his head, “Hah, nice try, but not in your immortal life. Now let's blow this ice cube stand and go west, I want a front row seat when the 405 gets backed up and wrecked from a freak blizzard.”

The marginally threatening tone and that one specific look was practically designed to catch a Yes as an answer, as the prospect was something they did often in the last couple years. Jack makes it seem he’s got him hook, line and sinker.

“Fine. I guess I can squeeze that into my very busy schedule—,” Jack pauses as he takes one foot off the ice, looking around the immediate vicinity before grabbing Killians arm with both hands, “—later!”

In one fell swoop Jack pulls Killian out onto the ice with subtle wisps of blue magic forming under his boots with each step to make blades of ice. A couple of sharp swears are heard as he clumsily stumbles into the rink, nearly slipping and falling at least twenty times in quick succession, forced to grab onto Jack as his only form of stability. He quickly comes to an unsteady stop, far enough away from the gate so he can't backtrack too easily and practically clings to Jack out of necessity, holding his breath.

Jack on the other hand keeps both of their weight steady by holding onto his upper arms with the biggest, shit eating smirk on his face. He lets him adjust his balance slightly as he lets the moment simmer for half a second, savoring it.

“Need help?” he finally says.

Killian's face uncharacteristically flushes, “No...! And fuck you!”

Jack can’t help but snicker while trying to help him stand up straighter and actually get moving somewhat, which his body language vehemently disagrees with and actively fights him against, “I just can't believe that after nearly two thousand years you still fall for it. Everytime. Truly amazing, have I ever told you how incredible you are?”

“Shut up! I’ll fucking kill you,” Killian grumbles, nearly sputters, tightening his grip on arms when his feet wobble a bit, “You are going to pay for this later, I swear to god.”

“Hm, promise?”

This actually earns a tiny laugh from him, but also gains a more menacing look, “You’d like that wouldn't you. Your just so fucking lucky that there’s so many people hERE—!”

Lucy and Rowan seated themselves on a nearby bench to watch Killian nearly fall again, each having their own cup of fresh cocoa. Lucy stretches and waves one of her arms in the air to catch their attention, “You're doing great Kills!”

“Lucy, I will break BOTH of your legs!”

Killian doesn't turn back but Jack looks directly at her with that same smug grin and a casual two finger salute to her as Killlian tries to steady himself again, clearly enjoying every precious second, knowing that it is a passing moment of superiority.

Lucy pays his threat no mind, Rowan beside her giving the two a more worried look for her safety as they survey the pair on the ice, their relative peace quickly devolves into their usual petty arguing about how Killian was only making things worse and Jack telling him to stop moving so much. This, turning a few heads of the other skaters that stay far, far away from the duo.

Rowan turns back to Lucy, giving a quick glance to her mug before pulling out his wand from an inside coat pocket. He brings the amber tip to trace the rim of the cup with a very soft glow, summoning trails of golden magic to follow its path and dip into the hot chocolate with fading sparkle and seeping the enchantment into the drink, making sure it stays at a perfectly hot temperature.

“You're almost as bad as him,” she softly smiles and brings the cup to her mouth, “you're not supposed to use magic out and about ya know.”

“It's not magic, it's…a prop,” he casually tries to excuse. “There's a Harry Potter store like, an hour away, it's fine. I just hate that the drinks get cold so fast.”

“Thanks,” her posture relaxes when taking another sip and leaning her head on his shoulder.

Rowan, while getting more used to it, still blushes slightly when she leans against him. He intuitively puts his free arm around her shoulder as they watch Killian struggle on the ice, with Jack trying not to laugh too hard at him. Lucy continues to egg him on from the sidelines with returned threats on her life, both her and Jack taking varying levels of enjoyment in his struggle for very different reasons.

#digital art #musings #CC #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #BlackIce #jack frost #Lucy Miller #OC #its so hard to write fluff for these bitches!#impossible to think they DONT suffer in any given scenario

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dinoberrypress · 2 years ago

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Learning to enjoy art again (and making messed-up little guys in the process)

Hey y'all, Nevyn here! I wanted to talk a little about the art process that's gone into You're In Space, and what it was like for me to do it!

I'll start by saying that I've had a bit of a stressful relationship with Making Pictures for a while. I really liked doing it in highschool, but I had a lot of bad feedback and critique from peers and teachers alike that lead to me stopping- nothing I made was good enough, so why bother, right? It lead to me never being satisfied with what I put on a page as a result of constantly trying to stick to the ideals and visions of those around me, instead of just making what I wanted, so I stopped.

Fast forward like 50 billion years and I'm working on Spacefucked. I've been designing the game for a while, and Jam and I started talking about what kind of art it should have.

CW for images below: illustrated blood, body horror, gore, weapons

I'd been seeing my friend Adam Vass doing art for Cybermetal at the time, and they were doing all kinds of interesting stuff with it. Unique tools, tools used "wrong", tools I'd never heard of. Talking to Adam about that art, I learned about soda can pens and palette knives and all sorts of different ways of putting media to paper that I'd never heard or thought of.

I talked about it with Jam, and she encouraged me to take a crack at it- to just make some pens, grab some inks, and to go to town on a big sheet of paper and see what I came up with.

I had a lot of fun making it! This was just with ballpoints, felt tips, and sharpies- but look at the results! Scratchy, messed-up, weird little freaks. I wasn't sure if it was viable for a project, though, so I asked around and got really enthusiastic responses! It was really encouraging, to learn that people liked my art! People wanted to see more!

Jam was a huge fan and wanted me to make more, encouraging me to try out other tools and methods, not just for the potential use in You're In Space And Everything's Fucked, but also for me to get that practice and exposure to new methods of Making Art™!

So, of course, I did more research on the things Adam and I talked about, and got some new tools prepped. I started by making some folded pens out of soda cans and drawing some monsters, then I tried writing some text, and the more time I spent playing these these tools and learning how they worked the more fun I was having, the more expressive and intentional I was able to make things. It felt like my eyes were opening for the first time!

The text results were always varied and expressive, and using different consistencies of ink and different tools always created really unique, powerful results with a lot of impact.

The important part, though, is that I was having a blast doing this art! I got more supplies- stronger paper, palette knives, and a bunch of different kinds of pens. After a few more big pages of messy art, it was decided: I'd be doing the art for Spacefucked, and even now, over a year into the project, I'm still excited to be doing this art.

I've learned a lot doing this. I have a great time with it, every time I sit down I learn something new. I get to make a mess, I get to play with ink and tools that I've never used before and every time I step away my hands are splotched-up with ink. Every time I step away from, I feel excited to get back and make more.

I continue to improve and understand what my style is, and I continue to realize, with every piece I make, that my art just that- my art. Maybe it's a bit cliche or rote, but that's the truth of it. The art I make for this project is mine, and it's in a style I would've never developed if I'd just continued listening to all those dweebs in school.

The project, You're In Space And Everything's Fucked, launches on Kickstarter next year- you can sign up for a notification here and you can check out the very awesome demo, complete with just a taste of my artwork, here!

Thanks for reading!

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phoebehalliwell · 1 year ago

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What would be your ideal cast for the next generation in 2023?

hmm that's difficult mainly bc i really don't watch that many teen drama so i don't have a solid list of actors in the appropriate age range lmao but i love a challenge nonetheless so here we go!!

for wyatt i would kind of love to cast something of an already famous person to kind of really hit home the idea of Legacy tm but the issue is bc wyatt is so big in narrative he kind of just. gets less plot. so that actually might not work. so tbh really i think the move would lowkey be casting a nepo baby. honestly i would love wyatt russell (same name besties?!?!?) but he is just a shade old. if you've only seen him in falcon and the winter soldiers i am begging you to expand and see his cali babe range.... he's in black mirror, 22 jump street, ingrid goes west, lodge 49... babes. like. beyond that, charlie hall who was in sex lives of college girls as that like. really manic guy whitney went out with. and then third option but also on the older side would be alex roe who played the male lead on the tv siren that i think like. only five people watched (excluding myself: four). i think he could swing the necessary earnest energy.

chris honestly should probably be The Star kind of hte one who brings the most draw to the show ideally someone who already has something of a fanbase in a gifset before i've used thomas doherty before who checks two boxes in that he already has an established fan base coming from both the descendant's franchise & also the gossip girl reboot and of course he is also devastatingly handsome in a very cliche way and we already know can play a slut. so that's actually three boxes. another option which i thnk would Slay but again he's a little older would be logan lerman <3 like. y'all see it rite? wild card would be tommy martinez.

for melinda i think a couple solid options would be sarah catherine hook from first kill, sarah desjardins from. well im gonna say yellowjackets but i know her from riverdale lmao. or kaitlyn dever from booksmart also potentially kaylee bryant from legacies or brenna damico from descendants

rest of the next gen under the cut ❤️

for the twins tamora & kat, ideally, they are played by twins. but i do not know a lot of famous acting twins those would have to be found. however, some actors i really like would be liv hewson from santa clarita diet (gone too soon, rip). i think louisa harland from derry girls could be really fun. katherine langford from. well. best known for 13rw but fuck that show. wild card would be storm reid from a wrinkle in time.

henry jr i will be honest i have no idea what he looks like in my head other than he has dark hair. so i'm just gonna spit out some options. archie renaux from shadow and bone. gavin leatherwood from sabrina maybe. mekki leeper from slocg. anirudh pisharody from 9-1-1. booboo steward from (twilight) julie and the phantoms. asher angel from shazam.

pj functionally serves as the leader of the cupitches so i would love to again see her as someone with a good amount of draw honestly i would love to see danielle rose russell as her like those scenes in legacies where she plays lizzie disguised as hope is the exact vibe we're going for. other excellent options imo would be madelyn cline or sabrina carpenter

parker and pj together kind of carry the emotional brunt of the cupitches mainly because peyton is so young it's just easier to defer to her sisters til she's old enough to properly shoulder the burden of a solo narrative. so w both pj and parker the actress needs to slay the solid exterior // cracks slip through; for pj that's the super cool capable princess form parker that's the badass unflinching warrior, both of them are hiding A Lot. so really, any of the pj castings could work for parker imo and vice versa. but some parker specific ones would be savannah lee may from julie and the phantoms, i love that she's kind of got like this baby faced nice energy but can play just like the mean girl. i would love that dichotomy w parker of someone who does not look violent always packing a knife you know? other than that: emma myers from wednesday, odessa azion, or emily alyn lind from gossip girl (tho between you and me eal is my personal fancast for penn)

for peyton she really is the baby of the family so again it would ideally probably be someone new to the scene bc they're so young but i think good existing options would be trinity likins who plays jellybean on riverdale or shay rudolph from the babysitters club.

and then as other casts for the eventual bianca mimi keene from sex education or amita suman from shadow and bone. for melinda's roommate ale mariselo zumbado from genera+ion possibly, ale's character is mexican so i would really love a mexican actress to be cast. google is not aiding me in this hunt. melinda's (new) whitelighter effie freya mavor from skins can defo do the scottish accent, i also think gracie dzienny from first kill & slocg could bring that necessarily wackadoodle energy. over with kat's plotline viola could be played by bola koleosho. more characters to come who ideally would also fit here but no spoilers yet !!

#tada!#charmed #charmed next generation #next gen #fan cast #or is it fancast?#spacebar no spacebar?#anyways <3 thank you for the question darling. ily.#💌

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marinbel · 6 years ago

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So I almost never do this but...

I just decided to click on the suggested tv show on my Netflix for this new show call The Hollow. I'm actually really picky when it comes to shows I get into, I don't know I just get bored and have a small attention span for a lot of media, mostly because everything is uber predictable and it gets old for me real fast.

But I just decided, what the heck? It's ten episodes, I'm currently on 8 of 10, and boy am I glad I started it!!

(tbh a major reason I decided was because one of the characters was named Kai and like??? Yup. I'm there)

I won't put any spoilers, just in case you wanna watch it - which I highly suggest if you like action, funny, and suspenseful stuff - but I'll give a quick overview of my thoughts so far.

Btw I am no reviewer, these are just some comments I have. (This got long, but I'm on mobile and it won't let me put a read more sorry 😳)

These three kids (Adam, Mira, and Kai) wake up in this room with no windows or doors and have to try and get out. Then it goes from there where they face crazy near-death instances trying to find their way home, yet they have no memories.

Adam is the main dood ™ cuz it just feels that way, I can tell ahah. He's really cool tho and for Ninjago peeps, he REALLY gives me Cole vibes. I mean...

Look at him. He wears black, has black hair, and is the leader-ish type. Just some serious Cole vibes which is great because...

Kai is kinda the comic relief. Actually...Ninjago folk, think Jay. He is Jay. He's a tinkerer techy kinda guy, wears blue, and has reddish brown hair. I mean....fave character and I may or may not be biased because he reminds me of my Lightning Bean.

He's great too, and every time they say Kai, all I think is Ninjago Kai. He's kind like a plasmashipping kid or something ahahh.

And then there's Mira who is EPIC. She's Uber cool, and tbh also gives me Nya vibes. Which is amazing because it the trio of Ninjago that I lub.

She's awesome and a great mediator when the two boys can't decide on things.

...

Aaaannnyways, I went into this expecting Mira to be with Adam (cuz he's the main character anf that's how they always do it grr) or Kai ( cuz it's the Jaya vibes BIG TIME HOYO) but then like??? Classic me, I start shipping Adam and Kai. I mean??? They are really like Bruiseshipping, so naturally I get drawn to that stuff ahahahahhh. But then Mira has really cute moments and all three of them do so like??? I'm totes down for a poly ship. It's adorable to think about.

Anyways, this went waaay longer than I meant. Oof. If you're interested, it's on Netflix, The Hollow, but maybe you can find it on KimCartoon or something too.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk and good night ✌️

#really it's a good show #it does have really cliche things #like the grrrr romance and stuff #but it's really not that bad #kinda reminds me of ninjago ahahah #and like there's a kai??? and he's literally jay???#what's not to love???#anyways #it's really good y'all should check it out #the hollow

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doublefaceliker2808 · 2 years ago

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Spring Evening's Respite - Adasakura 7

Kohaku: Hinata-han. 'S that really true?

Hinata: …Yeah. I heard it straight from Mikejima-senpai when I chanced upon him earlier.

He probably wants you to belong solely to Crazy:B.

It might be cause of that gossip reporter trailing Double Face.

Rather than letting it become a bigger issue, he must think that breaking up Double Face would be better for the both of you.

Kohaku: To say somethin’ like that… Honestly, he’s bein’ way too selfish.

…I’m startin’ to understand all that kindness o' his today. Madara-han’s been meanin’ to cut off ties with me, so he wanted me to experience all kinds of things before that.

He's finishin' up all business and parting ways with me without leavin' any regrets… as if he could. I'm bein' left with nothing but grudges over here!

I've no clue if the reason for all this is ‘cause of that gossip reporter or whatever, but Double Face is just as important to me as Crazy:B.

If ya wanna disband, yer gonna have to run it through me first...!

Hinata: …As expected, these are your two cents.

Well then, what are you gonna do now? Are you going to see Mikejima-senpai now?

If you end up in a fistfight against him, I’ll support you ♪

Kohaku: Hinata-han, I appreciate the thought, but there won’t be room for ya to assist me if we end up fightin’.

This is an issue within the unit. I’ll go talk to him face-to-face.

Rinne: Hooold up. Aren’t ya bein’ too coldhearted by dealing with this all by yourself, Kohaku-chaaan?

Can't ya let your fellow members in Crazy:B take a bite with you?

Kohaku: Rinne-han…?

Rinne: You seeee, Kohaku-chan was bein’ so damn noisy that I had to come check up on you. The dorm walls are so thin that it’s a headache, y’know?

HiMERU: HiMERU also finds the walls to be rather thin and came over as soon as he heard you. The dorm facilities really are quite troubling.

Niki: For real, it’s such a pain! We should demand a renovation right now!

Kohaku: Dumbasses. As though each of y'all had such a convenient reason?

Hinata-han called all of y’all over, right? He probably mentioned Double Face dissolvin’ and needin’ yer help, or somethin’ like that.

Hinata: Ahaha~ You figured it out?

I feel a little bad about making such a big deal about it, but this is an issue for both of the units you belong to.

So I figured it would be the right idea to call over the rest of Crazy:B!

Kohaku: This ain’t somethin’ you need multiple people to think with, no? This conflict’s between me and Madara-han only.

…Ah well, it’s too late to complain ‘bout it now. If somethin’ that I want help with comes up, I’ll be relyin’ on y’all.

Rinne: Yep, you’re part o' Crazy:B for that reason!

Hope you haven’t forgotten ‘bout what you told me back when I tried to run back home during MDM, okaay? That then's exactly what I’m tellin' ya now.

Niki: Exactly~ It’s “unlike you” to be so self-sacrifical! We’ve decided to work together as a team while keeping our cheery vigour, after all!

HiMERU: If Double Face is like a second home to you, then let us help you protect it, at the very least.

Were Oukawa to become heartbroken, who’ll be there to look after Amagi and Shiina? This is a matter of life and death not just for you, but for HiMERU as well.

Kohaku: Guess so. It’s just as y’all said, both Madara-han and I are so cold-hearted—

I'll be bringin' shame upon myself if I leave it t’HiMERU-han to protect Crazy:B. Rather than bein’ stubborn, I should start acceptin’ my seniors’ help.

Still, ya won’t know happiness ‘till ya lose it— I used to think that was just some cliche phrase. It’s when I heard ‘bout Double Face dissolvin’ that I can understand its meaning.

Perhaps the “thing I want to do” could be that.

It’s not ‘bout what you do, but with whom you do it with. Both Crazy:B and Double Face are things I won’t give up on.

Rinne: Yep. Go ahead and take your shot, Kohaku-chan.

Kohaku: …Gladly.

There’s no end to the things Double Face’s got left t’ do.

Don’t tell me you're gonna disband it now, Madara-han.

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#im very slowly proofreading (?) and rephrasing a bunch of stuff here as I post #and im starting to lose my grasp on the eng language #i cannot tell what phrasings good and whats not god help me

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yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

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aye, Idk if this went thou cuz it Tumblr so: I know you say to hold request like this but I wanted to ask for when you started. Maybe a yandere Imposter with a s/o who is a medic for the ship. (It a weird hc that everyone has a job on the ship) So it time for check up other med stuff. The imposter knows that the check up/computer will out them for being an imposter but it a chance to finally be alone with its 's/o'

Oh boo, what I meant about holding asks was that I was holding an anon's ask in the ask box about Yandere Among Us so that I could remember myself to write about it.

You see, a lot of people asked for it so I decided to leave this one ask about it so I could answer it later when I had the proper chapter finished.

It's not that you guys in particular need to hold your asks about Among Us, you can send them! What I tried to do was try to send a message towards the people that wanted to see more of it, that I would be doing more about it really soon.

Also, this is a gorgeous ask! I absolutely love this headcanon. I love the idea of everyone having a particular role, but also being able to do multiple tasks as the whole spaceship is destroyed-

In my Among Us fanfiction, the role of medic is played by the crewmate White, but of course the darling can be a medic in this headcanon!

Also I'll leave the color of the imposter random and out for your imagination in this headcanon, because why not?

TW/Tags: y'all mind if I went a little more… risky? 👀 Cause I think the imposter would be happy to get some "special examination" by their darling- (slight nsfw ish? At the end??) // not accurate to the game but whatevs // yes, I'm tired and therefore mumbling nonsense! // some hard simping coming from the imposter //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Med-bae 👀 [Yandere!Among Us x Medic!Reader - Headcanon]:

So. This was a terrible idea. You know, when you said "follow me, I'll show you something cool!" they were expecting something more, well, fun?

This is not only not fun, but can also compromise their whole plan. You brought them to medbay to show them not only your favorite tech but to also convince them to let you check them out.

They were the only ones that haven't done any check ups and you needed to collect data from everyone and send it to the facility, ya know, to let them know that you're all safe in this unsafe spaceship.

"- Come on, we need to tell your family that you're healthy!"

"- I could just call them ya know?!" You two scream at each other as they're trying to hold themselves in the wall while you try to pull them inside your workplace.

Well, it could be worse, now that they think about it. There is no one here so…

"- Take off your suit and seat over there." You tell them while pointing at the examination table - "- I'll go pick some equipment, don't worry okay? It's just another checkup."

You tried to make them feel more relaxed by saying that, but they couldn't help but fear their inevitable demise. While you're gone they at least have enough time to change themselves to look more human.

Or at least to come up with something if you ever find out they aren't really the person you thought they were. Oh well, at least they can indulge themselves in the heavy amount of scent lingering around this room, it seems you have spent a lot of time here. In some weird way, this place does fit you a lot, maybe is their mind being easily infatuated by you, but the smallest of decorations or clues of you being here, like: a coat you forgot to pick up, some paperwork covered in stickers, a photo of you and what they presume to be your family.

They wonder if you miss the Earth as much as your entire crew. I mean, that would be unfortunate for them, how would they be able to accompany you back to your home? Wouldn't you prefer to stay here with them? Looking at the stars, with a long life supply of resources for a small family. It doesn't sound so bad right?

Yeah, of course it doesn't sound so bad, the only problem is that there are way, way too many people in this place! All of your crewmates take way too much of your attention and time, that is so unfair-

"- I'm back! Sorry for keeping you waiting." You said while entering the medbay in a hurry. Oh look, their anxiety has also returned! Oh goodie.

"- So, I'll do a couple physical checks and just make a couple of questions, and then I'll let you free okay?" You joke about it, no one really likes to do this, you know that, but come on! It's so simple and easy, and it's just to make sure everyone is doing fine.

"- How has it been this couple of days?" You ask coming towards them.

"- F-Fine I guess. Nothing really special, just the usual." The closer you get the hardest it is to control their heart. This is ridiculous, why does their body act like this at such a crucial moment? And why do I need to be so close in the first place!?!

You make their brains turn into mush.

"- I know this is going to sound cliche, but have you been eating healthy lately?" Oh my, their skin feels hot, maybe you should pick a thermometer! Hopefully they don't have a fever.

"- Yes, I think so." Well, would you consider eating your friends healthy? Probably not. They probably shouldn't say that out loud.

The checkup continues as "normally" as every checkup. Asking if they felt anything, if they have been staying active and eating the healthy options on board, and if they were having a generally pleasant week aboard.

Of course you probably won't notice how their face flush every time you touch or simply crush your fingers on their body, like I said, this is probably harder than any emergency meeting. Trying to keep themselves from creeping you out and from snatching you right there and then. Too close for your own safety yet too distant for their comfort.

It doesn't help that you question all the little oddities happening to their body. Why are they so hot? Why are they sweating so much? Why are they shaking so much? Are they feeling sick? Are they hurt?

No, no, no, no and no, dearest! All of these things are normal for them. That's their normal body temperature.

Oh yeah, and the shaking and sweating is just nervousness. This moment is so perfect, dearest.

Is absolutely perfect, no one can interfere. No one can stop them from being the center of your attention. No one can enter this room for now.

Of course, after so much "teasing" they couldn't control the soft purring emerging from their throats. I mean, honestly you weren't doing much? You're just so close and touchy that it was starting to provoke a new type of hunger inside them.

"- Did you… Did you just... Purr…??" You stepped back, they were acting quite strange throughout the entire checkup, but you thought they were simply shy about this.

' What the hell was going on? Why did they look like that? Why was their expression suddenly so malicious?' You thought.

Well dearest-

What would happen if… Well, the doors suddenly decided to not open? If these sound proof walls suddenly became useful for once?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

I don't why I had such a hard time writing this, I think I might have adhd-

Or maybe I just really like procrastinating, idk lol

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere among us x reader #yandere among us #yandere among us headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #aaaaah #yander alien #?#does it count?

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hanniejji · 4 years ago

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fem!s/o wears a suit

[ bakugou katsuki x fem!s/o ] [ todoroki shouto x fem!s/o ] [ kirishima eijirou x fem!s/o ] [ takami keigo x fem!s/o ]

@ohbois-biggay-bnha : Hey you lovely bean! 💕💖💕 I was wondering if I could request headcannons for Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima and Hawks reacting to their fem s/o in a suit? You don't have to all if you'd like. Have a great day/evening and remember to stay hydrated! 💖💖💖😁😁😁

note: l-lovely bean :') thank you bubs uwu | m.list

warnings: mentions of fem reader

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

your number one hype man and hero uwu

secretly has hearts eyes for you the moment he sees you but wouldn't show it lmao

"what the fuck are you wearing?" he'll ask with a proud smirk on his face

and if you get insecure or upset

"no, don't change, you look hot in it"

would shamelessly check you out even in the presence of his friends or yours

if you're wearing those fit pants then he's dead

he's an ass kind of man please

"you should wear suits more often"

will love it if you did, nothing's more sexy than a woman in a suit if you ask him aye ;)

TODOROKI SHOUTO

probably didn't notice at first but then would pause to take a look at you

ahem* he's looking at your ass *ahem

"you look great, s/o"

genuinely means it and would say it more than once if it means you'll wear them more

whenever you do, he has this very very very soft smile and would stare at you the whole time uwuwuwuwu

he thinks you look great in anything tbh

you'd be wearing a banana costume and he'd still think you're wonderful

is this just me or is todoroki convincing you to wear his rich ass suit a thing?

because that's just cute and so shouto gishtow

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

his eyes will literally sparkle at the sight of you in a suit

"YOU'RE SO MANYLY BABE" wipes manly tears

boi

he didn't mean it in a bad way dw bby

he's so proud of you and loves how confident you are and that's sexc ma'am *chef's kiss*

"YOU LOOKS SO AMAZING S/O"

yes, kirishima is affectionate as fuck, but triple that when you're wearing a suit

is going to buy you more suits because he not so secretly wants you to wear them for him uwu

showers you in compliments because you deserve it

idk bout you but i think you wearing a suit might just tempt him to wear a dress so y'all will match gjsogjs

TAKAMI KEIGO

"my eyes are blessed"

please model for him please strut in front of him please post for him please—

he's gon wear a wide grin the whole time you're wearing a suit fjsogiw

candid photos of you and the best one is his homescreen

"damn, you're really gonna go and be a whole ass meal right in front of me"

he lives for the confidence you'll ooze once you're out and walking with him in those fit pants and blazer and button up

this is sfw but istg the day will not go by without his hand touching your butt

might even gently slap them when you walk by

or his hand on the back pocket of your pants fkehtoe

"babe, do a twirl for me"

does those cliche shit where he slowly turns you around like you're dancing in the middle of a fancy ballroom rkehrk

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its-toasted · 3 years ago

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Who do you still handwrite to?

I've been making a letter for a very good friend. One of my OGs. We'll call them Blue. I think I always try to write to you like Mac or Blue.

Blue is not like their name but if I could tell you everything you'd understand just how it wrote itself. They are a korean genius who I adore. We grew up in church together and that says a lot for me. It's funny, who and what remained for me from church. We are world-class platonic support partners. In crime. In spirit.

The letter was supposed to be a letter. No shit. But so, so many times I would write things and not send them because it be like that, and we are blessed to have apple products, and a couple months ago I just ended up writing to her in a pocket journal. Straight up I still haven't sent it lol, it's about one-third full now. They are well aware and fuming.

Btw I have some very nice empty journals, some quality vessels acquired over the years, and out of all of them I chose some bullshit LOL (y'all gotta hear me say bullshit), this is basically two staples and two stitches. It is well-ruled baby looseleaf wrapped in an index card. It fits in pockets like a dozen dollar bills. Ok I guess I kinda like it.

ANYWAYS THE LETter to Blue has been in progress since May. Everything shifted in May and the floodgates opened for the first time in a long time so it was nice to start writing by hand again too. Home became a liminal space. I was living in a hotel for a while and looking for a new place. Blue is someone I've always been honest with. We talk enough that they stay on my mind. I think when I write personal posts to you, the void that is tumblr, I try to spill like I would to my brother or Blue. People I'm automatically myself around. It's my substitute for therapy.

My brother is Mac. I decided not to change his name, it didn't feel right. I don't think he'll mind. He is absolutely the light of my life. I can't seem to write anything about him that isn't a huge cliche. Favorite face, saving grace, et cetera. I don't deserve him at all, you don't understand. Or maybe you do.

I can't help but feel like growing older just means having fewer and fewer people like Mac and Blue. So many people I once lived my life with are just elsewhere, you know? That's nobody's fault it's just life. You can only keep so many people in pursuit. At some point you're just checking up on each other, and at some you even forget to do that. It doesn't really get easier to swallow but we're trying to keep our eyes down the field and stay in stride these days. Since being stuck is less than ideal. I don't want to go back there soon.

Writing by hand is just different. Somehow, this was the original purpose of this post. I've been blessed to have some damn good handwriting penpals over the years. So often now since our lives are in screens, handwriting is an afterthought. But spilling to Blue since May makes writing feel as sacred as it used to. It's deliberate and painstaking and a choice made for the sake of a different touch. And it's pretty in-line with when I started posting more here again too.

There's a lot I'm too much of a mess to say right now: A Memoir. I am sitting in a room that is workfire ablaze as we speak so uh I should maybe deal with all of this first. Like no really I'm about to get lost in the sauce. The only way I fuck up this gig is if I keep letting myself slip like this. We'll call today (and yesterday) an exception for self care.

Edit: It's 3 AM and I'm all caught up, feeling like a hunnid bucks. I drank too much coffee help

#personal

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kylorengarbagedump · 5 years ago

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Little Bird: Chapter 16

Read on AO3. Part 15 here. Part 17 here.

Summary: The horrors of Gilead are too much to bear. You've been selfish.

Words: 3100

Warnings: Handmaid AU

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Guys... Ren knows she's missing... what the fuck is gonna happen...

(I know but I'm not telling.)

Thank you everyone for your interest and attention to this story. I have no words to express how grateful I am. I love y'all so much. <3

The rest of the house was surprisingly plain, considering its underbelly. Rey and Finn slept on the second floor, and Poe, as their driver, had an adjoining room on the first floor. The facade was one of a normal, functioning Gilead household, with Angel, Wife, and their help all existing in perfect harmony. Part of you wanted to know more about Finn and Rey’s marriage--did they love each other, was it arranged, how had they managed to create the Resistance--but you couldn’t think of a polite way to ask.

Perhaps that was more conditioning. You couldn’t remember if questions like that had appeared unimportant before Gilead.

“Anyway, that’s all for the house,” Rey said. “You’ll likely only be here a few days, but we think it’s important you know where everything is, should anything happen.”

You blinked. “Happen?”

She waved her hands dismissively. “Not that anything has! Or that we expect it to. But it’s better to be prepared.”

Somehow, this did little to ease your nerves. The reality of being involved with a treasonous group of rebels was starting to settle. Of course you could never be a spy for them. You were trying to save your life. You’d done enough risking it at the end of Kylo Ren’s cock.

Rey led you back through the den, a large room lit with tall, dim lamps and a crackling fire. Bookcases packed tight with spines adorned each wall, reaching the ceiling, and a couple of massive leather sofas framed a heavy, carved coffee table at the center. The hardwood gleamed at your feet, reflecting the flames from the fireplace. Rey trudged forward, heading toward the hearth.

“This is a little cliche, I know,” she said. “But we couldn’t think of a better deterrent than fire.”

She pulled a brick out from the side of the fireplace and tugged out a pair of thick, black gloves that went up to her elbows. After pulling them on, to your horror, she reached into the fire, digging into the logs, and yanked at a lever. Nothing happened. But she didn’t seem deterred. Next, she tore away the thick, Persian rug at the foot of the hearth, pushing back one of the slats of hardwood and using it like a handle, wrenching open a rectangular slab of wood, wisps of smoke escaping as she revealed another hidden entrance.

You shrugged, heart skipping again. “You guys have a lot of these, huh.”

Rey smiled, replacing the gloves in the brick. “Just these two. This is the more important one, though. Come on!”

With quick feet, she disappeared down the tiny staircase, the walls closing even tighter than the ones before, compressing your frame like a compactor. You weren’t as fast, surveying your path, noticing the open grate in the ceiling that hung under where the fireplace was positioned. The air was stifling, almost woolen.

“When the grate is open, it becomes pretty much impossible to breathe.” Rey was at an iron door at the end of the staircase, now, spinning the combination lock above the handle. “We hope that in the event of an emergency, it would give enough time to allow for evacuation.”

Swallowing, you nodded, as if you wanted to be worrying about an emergency. Then again, your entire life had been an emergency for the past few years. What did the change of scenery really matter? The lock clicked, and the door opened. Rey waved you on. Holding your breath, you snuck down with your skirts bunched above your ankles, crossing the threshold and into a cooler, open room. She followed, and the door clamped shut behind you.

In front of you was another area illuminated with the same battery tap lights as you’d seen in their war room, accompanied with those similar eggshell crates. Beds lined the walls, some of them occupied, others barren. At the end of the room was a closed door, light peeking out from the frame. As you glanced around the space, each time a pair of eyes landed on you, shame leapt from inside your chest and swallowed you whole. You counted three strangers corralled here, total, all dressed in sweatshirts and jeans that looked about a decade old. And inside the gazes of these strangers, you saw yourself: terrified. Desperate. Alone.

“We have a new addition today, everyone,” said Rey. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Throwing a half-hearted wave, you mumbled your name. “Hello.”

“Right!” Her hand at your back again, she ushered you forward. “Clockwise, that’s Louise, Audrey, Gabrielle, and…” She snapped her fingers. “Where’s Sarah?”

“In the washroom,” said the one named Louise, pointing to the closed door.

“Got it.” Hand still guiding you, Rey turned you toward the door and walked you through the locking mechanism and how to get up to the main house, if necessary. “And if anything should happen--these girls know this--pull this lever right here. It opens both grates underneath the fire place. The fire is always burning. After you pull it, you all must escape through the piping in the washroom.” She looked over the room again. “You all remember that?”

The other woman called out their assent. Rey nodded, gripped your shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to get comfortable. There’s a set of clothes underneath one of the open beds. We’ll probably be serving dinner in a few hours. We bring it down here. I hope that’s okay.”

You shifted on your feet, crossing your arms. “So… I’m stuck down here, now?” Shadows stretched across the concrete floors, the tap lights too pitiful to banish them.. “Great.”

Her face fell. “I know. It’s not ideal. But…” She sighed. “Our primary goal is to keep you all safe until transport. We’ve smuggled out dozens of Handmaids with our protocols the way they are.”

“Yeah.” You nodded.

The knowledge that Ren would soon know you were gone was crushing you tighter than the walls themselves. You couldn’t imagine him honestly razing everything within 100 miles just for you--after all, you were just a Handmaid--but then you recalled the last time you’d spoken with him. The ache in his eyes. The despair.

Not one like you.

You haunt me.

A chill cast over your intestines, goosebumps sweeping over your flesh. Your tongue was dry. “When did you say the transport was, again?” You tried to wipe your sweating palms on your skirts.

Rey’s nose twisted in consideration. “We have a contact willing to collect a shipment at the end of the week. So it probably won’t be for a few more days.”

You coughed, trying to clear the dust from your throat. You hoped you’d last that long. “Okay.”

“Everyone all right?” Rey asked, casting a glance across the room. When no one responded, she grinned, and left through the iron door, sealing it tight behind her.

A long, heavy sigh left you, and you turned back to the room, again meeting the anxious gazes of the other women. You shuffled over to an empty bed, reaching underneath it, finding, to no surprise, a pair of baggy jeans and a large sweatshirt. You sat down with a loud squeak, mattress deflating like marshmallow underneath you. Every bed in here was covered with mismatched sheets, the frames combinations of screwed together steel bars and wooden slats.

You regarded the set of clothing with some degree of confusion. The thought of putting them on your body seemed foreign. Wrong. The red dress of your captivity didn’t seem right, either, but at least it was familiar.

“I promise that once you put that stuff on, it feels so much better.” One of the women approached you--the one named Audrey. Her dark hair was short. Very short. She must have cut it the second she was free. “It’s totally weird at first, though.”

“Yeah.” The sweatshirt was grey, stained, with colorful stripes across the chest area that had faded with time. “I don’t really want to change in front of everyone, though…”

“Don’t!” she said. “Sarah will be out in a second. You can change there.”

You nodded, glimpsing the other women watching you. “How long have you… all of you been here?”

“It’s been about a week for me,” Audrey said with a laugh. “My Commander hasn’t given a shit that I’ve been gone.”

“We both came in the middle of the night a few nights ago,” Louise said, gesturing between herself and Gabrielle. Louise had a crooked nose, and her long, blonde hair was tied in braids and piled on top of her head. “I didn’t know if she’d make it!”

Gabrielle shrugged. “You basically bullied me into it.”

“Oh, please,” Louise said. “Don’t act like you weren’t desperate to get out of Dopheld’s house.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” Gabrielle looked at you. Her eyes were dark pools. “I was just scared.”

Audrey nodded. “We were all totally scared.”

“Well,” you said. “That makes four of us.”

“Five.” Louise tilted her head toward the washroom door.

“Has anyone checked on Sarah?” Gabrielle’s nose wrinkled in concern. “She’s been in there a while.”

You blinked. “Checked on her?” It seemed rude to just… check on someone because they were taking a while in the bathroom. Everyone had their bodily struggles.

Audrey stood. “I’ll do it.” She crossed to the door, rapping it with a single knuckle. “Sarah? Are you okay?”

Frowning, your gaze switched between Louise and Gabrielle, hoping they’d provide you with some sort of context. The hesitation in their expression tightened your chest. Dread loomed over you again, a creature ready to consume.

“What is it?” you whispered. “What’s going on with Sarah?”

“Sarah got here last night.” Louise’s voice floated in the air. “She… She’s having a hard time.”

Audrey rapped again. “Sarah? Open the door, hon.”

A tiny whimper rippled from beyond the door. “Leave me alone.”

“Come on, Sare. You’ve been in there for an hour. You’ve gotta come out at some point.”

The hidden voice was tattered, like fabric with more holes than weave. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” Louise called, frowning. “There’s a new person here. She needs to get comfortable too.”

“A new person?” A loud sniffle, and shuffling behind the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know--”

Audrey stood back from the threshold. “It’s okay, hon--”

The door swung open, revealing a young woman--perhaps the youngest out of all of you--in a sleeved shirt and sweatpants, her long hair swarmed in a nest around her head, her cheeks a furious red. She sniffled again, which stoked the uneasiness in your heart, but what set it aflame was the rest of her appearance. Her hands were shredded, knuckles purple and puffy, and her right eye was an ugly, dead black, swollen shut, accompanying a massive knot at her forehead. A scab crept over a split in her lower lip.

Your jaw dropped. Sarah plodded out of the bathroom, gaze trained on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know someone else was here.”

“Don’t--uh, don’t apologize,” you said. “I… I only just got here, so…”

She nodded, plopping down on her bed. You sought out direction from the other women, feeling helpless. To get up and just go change seemed a little sociopathic at the moment.

Audrey sat next to Sarah on her bed. “How are you feeling, hon?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I keep thinking I see him out of the corner of my eye.” She was blank, numbed to her surroundings. “My… my other eye, I mean.”

“I know.” Audrey offered a sympathetic smile, rubbing her back. “You’re free, now, though. You won’t ever have to go back to his house again.”

Something slithered from the depths of your psyche and seized you, coiling around you, strangling the air from your lungs. Guilt.

“Your… uh, your Commander did this?” Your voice was stretched like film over your throat.

Sarah peeked at you, nodded. “When he learned I wasn’t pregnant.”

Guilt now snaked its way into your vessels, stuffed you with its presence. “I… I’m really sorry.”

She shrugged, face blank once more. “I just want to be able to sleep through the night again.”

“Me too,” said Gabrielle. “I get so tired of looking over my shoulder every day.” She shivered, shaking off a memory.

“Ooh, I know.” Louise reached up and pulled her braids from their spiral. “And to never have to smell his breath again.”

“Or just see his face in general!” Audrey chuckled. “I’m tired of being called a pig.”

“A pig?” You blushed when you realized it was you that had spoken. “Sorry. That’s terrible.”

Audrey shrugged, offering a wry, pained grin. “Wasn’t as bad as when he slapped me.”

With every admission of abuse, more oxygen escaped your body. Of course, your situation was no more enviable--you knew this, logically--but there was something different about your desperate, impassioned rendezvous with Kylo Ren in comparison to these women who were literally being beaten. And worse. Kylo Ren was possessive, manipulative, controlling, perhaps even heartless--but at least you’d wanted every single finger he laid on you.

In the end, you were running because there was a dark, awful part of you that wanted more than just sex, and the battle with your desire put your life at risk. These women were running because they wanted less--less of all of it. The realization lit a match to the kindling of your guilt.

“Do other Commanders know about this?” For some reason, you wanted permission to be enraged. “That this happens?”

Gabrielle snorted. “Of course they do. Some of them even team up, if you’re unlucky enough.”

“Team up?” Your jaw tensed.

“Whatever you take that to mean,” Louise said, “that’s what it means.”

Gabrielle leaned forward, scanning you. “You can’t really be that ignorant,” she said. “You lived it, too.”

“Come on, now. Her Commander must’ve been one of the low-ranks,” said Audrey. “Who was he?”

You looked between them, face hot. The words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. You were ignorant. There was no one to blame but yourself. You’d wrapped yourself in the protective sheet of your Commander’s attention, so twisted and obsessed with your own misery you’d never taken time to truly consider his role in maintaining the system. Kylo Ren hadn’t just subjugated you--he’d subjugated all of Gilead, propped it up on false limbs and shielded it from criticism. By default, he protected each one of the men that these women were running from. By default, he was complicit in, an agent of their power. By default, he was corrupt.

By default, he deserved to be brought down.

“Hello?” Louise waved. “Anyone there?”

You snapped to attention. “Sorry!” you said. “What, uh, what was the question?”

“I just asked who your Commander was,” Audrey replied. “You don’t have to--”

“Kylo Ren,” you replied, and found yourself standing. “Please excuse me.”

“Kylo--” Gabrielle stuttered. “Isn’t he right under--”

“Yeah, he’s Commander Snoke’s right-hand man!”

“She’s his Handmaid? She got away?”

“Doesn’t that make it more dangerous for us?”

“It totally doesn’t, we’re already running.”

Your brain was too busy spinning with newfound purpose. You’d walked over to the door, hands quaking as they worked to unlock the exit as Rey had instructed. Behind you, the other Handmaids were chattering, their stares like weights on your back. Blood rushed by your ears, pulse thumping at your temple, beating with a burgeoning power. The door opened, and you slipped beyond it, holding your breath through the hot tunnel to the main house. Your limbs were moving faster, shoving open the hatch, punching away the heavy rug, and you scrambled out, tripping over your feet as you stumbled through the house.

“Rey?” you called. “Finn? Poe?”

It was strange, how threatening silence could be in this world. You crossed through the den, peeking around the corners, searching like a hound. There was something boiling inside you, like a geyser, ready to explode through your skin, wrench you apart with its insistence. You could feel the words on your tongue, taste them, and they were begging to be given life, to find release.

“Rey!” you shouted up the stairs. “Finn! Poe!”

Still no response. Dread again, descending onto your shoulders, hijacking your heart, your breath coming faster, cycling through your lungs. If something had happened, making a ton of noise likely wouldn’t help. You sucked in a deep breath. You hadn’t checked outside. Gathering your skirts, you slunk to the back door, popping the locks and prying it open, inch by inch. Voices hit your ears. You froze. You couldn’t see them--they were around the corner, in the garden.

“We did rush the transport.” It was Finn. Relief tugged at your mind--but he sounded concerned. “The contact still says they won’t be able to make it for another 48 hours.”

“Dammit.” That was Poe. “And no response from bunker?”

“They’re full,” a voice you recognized as Rey’s replied. “They just took in another on emergency.”

“Shit!” A frustrated sigh escaped him. “I thought we’d at least have half a day to figure out where we’d move her.”

Your stomach flipped. Her. You?

“Well, this is Ren we’re talking about,” Finn replied. “We knew how he might get.”

Now your stomach lurched. Yes, you.

“We still have a few hours,” said Rey. “According to our intel, he’s only just now received report his Handmaid was taken off the streets for re-education. Even assuming he abandons his post, he’ll still need to figure out she never made it to a Red Center and find out who took her.”

More nagging guilt. How hard they were working, just to keep you safe. To keep you from him.

“Should we file the missing report to the Eyes?”

You didn’t want to be rude. But new guilt was morphing, too, liquefying to rage in your belly.

“I’m already on it.” Finn sighed. “Let’s just go with the plan as-is, for now. We don’t know what his intentions are. He might not even come here.”

Your fists clenched. You wanted him to.

“This would’ve been so much easier if she had agreed to work with us,” Poe mumbled.

You trembled, roiled through with fury for the women in the basement, for your saviors, for Johana and Emma and Rose, for--hell, yourself. All of you pinned underneath the monstrosity built by Ren and the Commanders like him, some of you struggling with trembling knees, others collapsing, devoured by the machine as they strained to support its weight. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the backyard.

Rey sighed. “Well, she didn’t--”

“Wait.” Your voice was cold and foreign. Finn, Poe, and Rey turned the corner from the patio, mouths parted in shock. “I’ll do it.”

A smile cracked Poe’s face. “You will?”

“Really?” Rey grinned.

“Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be your spy.”

A flock of birds scattered from the yard, taking off into the dusky sky.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #handmaid au #little bird #fanfiction problems

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hoseokslefteyebrow · 5 years ago

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The Baby Project || M.YG || 11

Pairing : Min Yoongi X Reader

Genre : Fluff

Summary : What happens when you and Yoongi are supposed to take care of a baby for a month?

Wordcount: 1.2k

The Baby Project Masterlist | Next

Taglist :

@joyful-jimin

" Hurry up Yoongi! We don't have all day!" You yelled from the hallway

Today you, Yoongi, Jin, Mina, Taehyung and Areum were going to the park with the kids, knowing that the weather was nice today, you all decided to barbecue. The school happened to have a barbecue aand you were allowed to use it.

" We're going to the grocery store first right?" The guy in question asked, turning up with his hair unbrushed while carrying a bag.

" Yes we are." You said as you moved over to brush his hair with your hands.

" There, this way you don't look like you live on the streets." You pat him on his head as Jaehyuk arrived, a full blown giggling mess.

" Hey, I'm handsome! You're lucky to be my girl." Yoongi shrugged.

" Of course, I feel honored." You said sarcastically before moving to tie Jaehyuk's shoelaces.

" Are we meeting the others in the park or are we seeing them in the lobby?" Yoongi asked.

" We're picking up Jin and Mina from their apartment and we'll meet Taehyung and Areum there." You told him as he nodded.

" Hyung?" Jaehyuk asked, blinking at Yoongi.

" Yes kid?" He hummed in response.

" Can we roast chocolate over the barbecue?" Jaehyuk asked innocently.

" Hey mum, add marshmallows on the list." Yoongi said turning to you.

Ever since the small moment in the park, Yoongi had referred to you by the name mum whenever Jaehyuk was around, to show him that it was okay to adress you by that name, suprisingly it worked too, as whenever he called you, you'd always hear mum or mummy.

" Did you guys make a list too or do you remember what you need?" You asked Jin and Mina as Yoongi grabbed a shopping cart.

" No, I remember what we'll need." Mina smiled, as Jin scoffed in the back.

" I don't even know what we need." He huffed.

" Yeah, well just help me out and-"

" So are we all gonna go together or do you want to split up?" Yoongi asked, disregarding their argument.

" Let's go together." Jin said immediately.

" Can I sit in the cart?" Jaehyuk asked.

" Of course you can." You smiled as you shrugged your jacket off and set it down in the cart.

Before picking Jaehyuk up and setting him down in the cart on top of it, considering he doesn't fit in the small cart seat anymore.

" Can I sit there too?" Soojun, their adoptive child.

" I think we have enough space for two little rascals." You smiled as you picked him up and set him down beside Jaehyuk, who made room on your jacket.

The kids started chattering away as you and Yoongi looked over your shopping list.

" So what do you need again?" You asked them.

" We're in charge of the satays, so I'll need meat and spices. I brought some from the apartment too, but I still need some from the store." Mina told you as you nodded.

" So you don't need anything?" You asked Jin.

" I planned on making lamb skewers so I'll need some stuff for that too." Jin nodded.

" Let's head to the meat isle forst then, I'm planning on spicy chicken wings." Yoongi said as you all agreed and walked off towards the meat isle.

" You're not grilling?" Jin asked you.

" Yes I am, marshmallows." You smiled.

" Finally you guys have arrived." Areum smiled as she saw you guys nearing.

" Missed us that much?" You teased her.

Unlike the rest of you, Taehyung and Areum opted to take the barbecue with them, the coolbox and take some picnic blankets with it.

" Yes I did, Taehyung gets bored after a while." She teased the boy beside her.

" Yah, I'm fun, aren't I Hyeonnie?" Taehyung called to their kid, who was playing with some plastic dolls.

" Yes, dadda is fun too mummie!" Hyeon smiled, throwing herself in Taehyung's lap.

" Hyeonnie! Look I made a new friend! " Jaehyuk's eyes lit up as he saw his friend, tugging Soojun allong.

" Alright, wanna directly man the grill up or something alike?" Areum asked as the kids started playing together.

" Let's prepare the meat first." Yoongi said as he unpacked the grocery bags.

" Need help with that?" You asked him as he shook his head.

" No it's fine, just watch over the kids and relax." Yoongi smiled st you, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear.

" You should let your hair loose more often, it's pretty." Yoongi said before going to spice the chicken wings up.

You blinked and blushed before sitting down beside Areum.

" M' tired." Jaehyuk stated as he plopped himself down in your lap and made himself comfortable.

It was now almost five in the afternoon and Yoongi and Taehyung were starting up the grill, Taehyung claimed he wanted to learn how to do it for a next time so Yoongi teached him what and how. Mina was listening to music on her phone while Soojun snoozed beside her in her shadow. Areum was reading a story to Hyeon and Jaehyuk was listening until he felt sleepy and came back to your side. Jin was getting some drinks for everyone.

" Sleep well, Hyuk." You smiled at him as you kissed his forehead.

He hummed in response before turning his head in your belly and putting your hand down on his hair, signaling that he wanted you to play with his hair.

" Hey." You looked up from Jaehyuk to see Jin sitting down in front of you.

" Seems like Jaehyuk really likes being with you and Yoongi huh." Jin said as he handed you a cold apple juice drink.

" I think so." You smiled.

" I wish I was your partner in this." Jin said as he leaned on his hand, glancing down at Jaehyuk while you choked on your drink.

" Yeah, well, I think that Yoongi's really just the guy I needed in this." You said as you stopped coughing.

"I understand. But would you like to go out on a date with me? It doesn't have to be soon-"

" Hey, why are you asking mummy out? She's already happy with dadda." Jaehyuk said as he abruptly got up, almost spilling your drink.

" Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

" Jin, you can start grilling lamb skewers now." The man in question called him.

Jin sighed before getting up and walking over to the grill, switching places with Yoongi.

" Thank you for defending mummy for me Hyukkie. Dadda is indeed very happy with mummy and the other way around." Yoongi smiled his gummie smile as he sat down next to you.

Hyuk grinned at the praise before turning his butt around and start with actually snoozing away in your lap.

[ A/N: Another no shame promotion, but first, I've decided to put House Of Cards on hold, because I found a new story in my drabbles which I find more interesting to realease rn. It's called 'The Most Cliche Love Story Ever' and it's a Taehyung X Reader. This time it's only aviable on Quotev and Wattpad ( sorry for the Tumblr readers). But check it out lol. ( I know y'all aren't interested in your school work so just check my story out instead lol.)]

#bts #bts x reader #idkeitherman #min yoongi #bts housemates au #min yoongi x reader #soft yoongi #bts series #baby #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #bts fluff

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ellaintrigue · 5 years ago

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Imagine: it's been a long day for you, you drive home, kick off your shoes, eat some leftovers or maybe you picked up some hot food on your way home. Then you feel like some me-time so you hit up your favorite site of varying levels of nudity and fucking. You really like this one model who enticingly looks over her shoulders on all fours, leaving nothing to the imagination.

You've felt worked up for hours with job frustrations so you cum easily, pat your stomach and cock off with some tissues and then toss them at the trash can but one hits the floor anyway. Sigh.

THEN... this random woman bursts in your door hysterically! Holy fuck! You jolt upright and quickly yank your trousers up. Who is she?! She picks up your jizz soaked tissues and cradles them in her hands protectively, then starts to scream at you.

"THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF VIABLE LIVES RIGHT HERE! YOU ARE A WHORE! A MURDERER! A BABY KILLER! YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THESE SPERM, THIS IS THE PROPERTY OF GOD! YOU WILL BURN IN HELL ON JUDGMENT DAY! SLUT!"

Congrats, you've met a pro-lifer... only it never happens this way, no one cares if a guy jerks off except for a few of the really nutty religious folks. And you can't compare ejaculation to abortion, of course. But this point is: to be so radical over what someone does with their body is fucking insane.

Abortion should not be a political issue in this day and age. It is someone's personal choice as to what they do with their body. Feminists will scream this until the day they die, me included. And I barely even touch politics anymore. I have enough stress in my life, and honestly, why the fuck does it matter what anyone thinks?

I'm pro second amendment. You hate guns? Fine, your choice. Immigration? Whatever, opinions are like assholes. LGBT? All for it but there can't be 70 different genders... come on y'all.

But the topic of abortion pops up in my face on a regular basis when talking to people. Because I go for people with the same kind of rural background as me I run into a lot of conservatives. Several years ago I labeled myself as conservative but then realized they had a lot of stereotypes on gender roles and were pro-life which I have never been. So I changed my label to conservative-libertarian.

I had always been kind of hateful to my liberal cousins and posted memes about folks with Trump derangement syndrome, blah blah. But in 2018 I was hit with a harsh reality check when my mom's FaceBook friends ripped me to shreds different times on the topics of rape and abortion. One guy wished physical harm on me for my pro-choice view and another made it clear that if women didn't want to get raped they should be responsible and not tempt men with short dresses, etc.

I thought the left was nutty... still do. But then it hit me, these angry people arguing with me are conservatives. And they are batshit, Bible-thumping crazy. I opened up my brain, stopped being rude to my cousins, and simplified my views to LIBERTARIAN, not that any label does me justice.

Like, why can't people just think outside the box and think for themselves? Generally it seems like liberals believe everything on CNN, and conservatives stick to decades-old biases on black people, gays, and women's rights.

As a result I can't find anyone with half a fucking brain. I either encounter staunch liberals that want to lynch Trump or dumbass redneck types with pro-life bumper stickers and too many guns. And it's not even the amount of guns, it's how they brag about them like they need a pile of weapons to make themselves men. My ex had around 16 guns but he didn't need to harp on about them or get political. They were his hobby and he loved hunting. Enough with the extremist activism.

Multiple times last year I would hit it off with rural Virginians since I was spending time there and then things would take an almost identical nose-dive every time. They would find out that I was a career woman that was never married and never had kids. They would find out I was a tomboy and liked old cars and trucks. Then it would get on the topic of children, they found out I didn't want kids and they either found out by my blog or something else that I was pro-choice, OR some would literally just ask "since you don't want children, what would you do if you got pregnant?" And my response was, and always will be: "I have been consistent with various forms of birth control since I became sexually active at age 18 but in the event something went wrong, I would get an abortion to ensure my mental and physical health and to keep the future that I want." Actually I give a more watered down, but polite version, but ALWAYS get the same response, IF they chose to respond instead of instantly blocking me:

Varying responses:

"You are a whore and a baby killer." "The Bible clearly states this is wrong." "You aren't a woman." "You deserve rape and anything bad that has ever happened to you." "You will burn in hell." "Your time will come on judgment day." "Pregnancy should be expected every time someone has sex... it is nature's way and should not be undone."

Now I know I may not be the most stable human on the planet but to me... THESE PEOPLE SOUND FUCKING NUTS. Sexist. And intolerant.

And looking back, I've really never had anything in common with conservatives except a love of the outdoors. I had a camo-wearing cliche as hell boss once and every time I felt sick to my stomach, every time I had a date with my then-boyfriend, every time I twitched. "OH YOU'RE PREGNANT."

"WHEN ARE Y'ALL GONNA HAVE A BABY?"

"WHY DON'T YOU WANT KIDS?"

"TRUST ME, YOU'LL GET PREGNANT ONE DAY."

I've never desired kids nor felt jealous of parents but the stigma of being a rural woman with no kids makes me straight up uncomfortable. As one of my cousins said to me, it's called a U-terus because U can do what you want with it. Well said.

I feel the safest when talking to them, honestly. They have husbands and children but I don't feel like a freak or the odd person out like conservatives like to imply. These are strong women who are good mothers and they're too confident in their own life choices to judge me on mine.

Overall, respect is key but obsolete...

#Rights #Feminist #Feminism #Pro choice #Womanhood

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asofterfan · 6 years ago

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Winter Winds

Prologue: Crying in the Club

Summary: Remy carries the sting of a thousand small cruelties. But he knows who he is, and he’s not going to change for anyone. After all, he’s never met anyone worth changing for.

Yet.

Warnings: underaged drinking, mentioned drug use, transphobia, enbyphobia, nbphobia, acephobia, arophobia, general ignorant asshattery

Remy is fifteen when he realizes that he has no friends.

He had always been popular- adults called him “charismatic” and “good with others” and a “social butterfly”. The kids called him “cool as fuck”. He held his head high, wore his shades inside, spoke sass like it was his native tongue. He didn’t walk, he sauntered.

For as long as he could remember he had been surrounded by people- people laughing with him, and inviting him to every event, and crowding around him at lunch, and maybe he kept them at arm’s length a bit but he still called them ‘friends’. But then one day his dad has to work late and Remy sat on the front steps on the school to wait for him, scrolling through apps on his phone, when one of the students sitting around him asks, “why doesn’t your mom just take you home?”

It feels like ice water over Remy’s head, and he’s glad he has his sunglasses on so they can’t see the way his eyes widen as he snaps his head to look at the girl who spoke. Her name is Emily and they’ve gone to school together since middle school, and Remy sees her almost everyday, and they talk at lunch and during science, and she has no idea that Remy’s mom is out of the picture. He looks around and realizes that no one in the crowd around him knows about the messy divorce his parents went through when he was twelve, how he started sleeping with his headphones on and blasting music to drown out the yelling and then never stopped because now he needs to drown out his own thoughts, and that his mom isn’t allowed to be around Remy unless his dad is there but she’d rather not be around either of them so it works out he guesses. They don’t know that it was Remy’s fault.

And if he’s really honest with himself? If they knew they wouldn’t care.

Because they’re not his friends.

Remy smirks, tilting his head to look at Emily over his glasses, “Gurl, you know I never miss an opportunity to loiter.” There are some laughs and chuckles, and Remy turns back to his phone and frowns, turning up some music so he doesn’t have to think about it.

“So you don’t like sex?”

Remy shrugged, scribbling in answers to the worksheet for her next class, “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

“But you said you’re asexual.”

She had said that, yes. She just hadn’t realized her coming out required a goddamn lecture, “Yeah, being ace doesn’t automatically mean you don’t like sex. It’s about attraction.”

“But if you’re ace and have sex, then what’s the point of even saying you’re ace?”

“It doesn’t work like that, it’s-” Remy let out a huff of frustration, turning to the boy hassling her, “you literally carry a supercomputer in your pocket. Put it to use and Google it, bitch.”

The other student rolled his eyes, “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t say you’re ace if you’re willing to have sex! It’s just pointless!”

“Not nearly as pointless as this conversation,” Remy deadpanned, gathering her things as she stood from the table.

“Where are you going?”

“I lose IQ when I’m subjected to bullshit for too long.” She doesn’t wait to hear any replies, just saunters off without a second glance.

Remy doesn’t know how she feels about sex. But she stops trying to figure it out. The last things she needs is more ammo used against her identity.

Kevin enters the picture in the middle of Remy’s sophomore year.

The junior had transferred from a school on the other side of town. It was another boy in their circle who introduced Kevin to the rest of them, otherwise Remy doubts he would have ever noticed the boy- blonde, average height, average build, so plain he could star in a Disney Channel show.

Remy didn’t expect to get along, if only because he spent their first meeting dragging the boy to Hell and back. “There are still people named Kevin?” He raised an eyebrow, “that’s so basic. Next you’re gonna tell me you have an Aunt June or something.”

“Um, well…” the junior seemed caught off guard by the snark, but flushed slightly at the last comment.

“Nooooo….” disbelief spread across Remy’s face, “You’re shitting me.”

He shrugged, “My dad has a sister named June.”

“Okay, well… You dad isn’t named like… John, or Bob, or whatever, right?”

“Uh….” Kevin glanced around the lunch table, searching for some kind of support, but was met with glances ranging from amusement to pity, “His name’s Carl?”

"For fucks sake Kevin,” Remy threw his hands up in exaggerated exasperation, “Let me guess your mom's named Alice or some shit with an A huh?"

Across from him, the junior sighed in defeat, “…Allison.”

Snickers rang through the group, but Remy found himself pushing his sunglasses up onto head so he could look Kevin in the eye as he grinned good-naturedly, “Any siblings?”

Luckily, the newest student seemed to get the message that it was all in good fun, grinning back, “I have a sister.”

“I swear if her name is anything related to Britney or Jessica I will scream.”

Kevin smirked, “Tiffany.”

Remy clapped his hands together in emphasis, “BASIC. BITCH.”

“Oh come on, Sleep,” the girl next to him pushed him playfully, “not everyone can be as extra as you.”

He gasped dramatically, “I am not extra,” He pulled his sunglasses back on with a grin, “I’m elite.”

The teens around him laughed, even Kevin, and he decided the kid wasn’t so bad.

Remy had been 15 when she got her pronoun necklace. At that point she had identified as genderfluid for almost two years. She had tried to wear pronoun pins before, but always seemed to forget them in the morning or misplace them in her disaster of a room. The necklace lives on the side table beside to her bed, right next to her sunglasses. On the first day wearing it to school, she pointed it out to the students surrounding her at the lunch table.

“I know y'all can read, so I made this real simple for ya,” Remy had always been open about her gender, and figured this would help curb the misgendering, “It’s color coded and everything.” The other kids laughed and nodded, carrying on with their conversations, but Remy felt a little better, and her smile was a little more genuine that day.

Just that day, though.

It didn’t surprise her, exactly, the way no one bothered to even glace down to check her pronouns. The way she was waved off dismissively when she tried to correct them. But it still stung.

“How was I supposed to know?” Ariel, Remy’s partner for an English assignment snapped out after the third time Remy corrected her on her pronouns.

“I don’t know, maybe the ‘she’ hanging around my neck, or one of the multiple times I’ve told you. Take your pick, cause if you can’t read or listen, this project is gonna be hell and I will not hesitate to drag you down with me.”

Ariel rolled her eyes, “You say you’re a girl or whatever, but you look the same as you always do!”

“Yeah, genderfluid people don’t acquire their shapeshifting abilities until they turn eighteen. Is that not common knowledge in the cis community?” Remy mocked.

“I mean you’re dressed the same, bitch,” the other girl crossed her arms, glaring, “Like, you’re not wearing a skirt or anything girly!”

“Neither are you, bitch,” despite her best effort, Remy raised her voice, gesturing at Ariel’s jeans and shirt, “I didn’t realize you were born in the 1930’s, but honestly if we’re judging based off clothes I’m gonna assume your pronouns are ‘ignorant trash’!”

“Remy!” The teacher stormed over to the girls’ table, “That’s enough!”

“Damn straight it is,” Remy crossed her arms, “I want a new partner. Ideally someone who doesn’t have a negative IQ.”

Ariel screeches and soon both girls are yelling, words and curses blending together as the teacher shoves her way between them and fights to regain order.

Remy gets a new partner.

Remy goes to a college party wearing the shortest skirt she owns and too much makeup. Someone offers her some sort of pill and it’s not a school night so she takes it. She doesn’t remember much, but she remembers she didn’t feel sad, and in the morning she decides to start growing out her hair.

For awhile, Kevin is just another face in the crowd Remy surrounds themselves with. But the more Remy felt distant from the rest of their peers, the closer Kevin seemed to feel. He had been so nonchalant when Remy came out to him, not hassling them about it or badgering them with questions. Whenever he sat down at lunch, Remy would catch him glancing at the pronoun necklace and following it’s guidance like so few in their group did. For every hurtful word or ignorant comment, Kevin would be there, complementing Remy’s comebacks or rolling his eyes, smiling at Remy and stating “some people are so dumb”. He sits next to Remy on the front steps of the school and puts his arm around their shoulders and Remy lets him.

It should feel natural, the two of them getting together.

“Come on,” Kevin whispers, hand on Remy’s cheek to pull them closer, the two of them behind the bleachers after school like a bad cliche, “I like you. Do… do you like me?”

Remy doesn’t know how to answer that. But they know how they should.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

People always say you’re supposed to date your best friend, right?

Dating Kevin is… weird. Not too much changes, they suppose, but the things that do change make Remy’s stomach clench in a way they don’t really understand. They think kissing is supposed to feel nicer than it does. They think having a hand around their waist should feel safe instead of nerve wracking. They think they should be grateful to be given flowers instead of off put.

But all the good is still there. Their friend is still there. So it’s fine. It’s worth it.

They’re in Kevin’s room, laying on his bed, homework forgotten on the floor as they kiss lazily. Remy had kind of been hoping to actually just work on homework instead of being tugged onto the bed again, but he doesn’t think much of it anymore, happy enough to be spending time with the older boy. Or at least, he was, until Kevin slides his hand up Remy’s thigh and starts tugging at the waistband of his jeans.

Grabbing Kevin’s wrist, Remy immediately pulls away, “That’s a no-fly zone, hon.” He tries to keep his voice light, despite the confusion he feels because Kevin knows this, knows Remy.

But Kevin moves to kiss his neck, twisting his wrist out of Remy’s hand and placing it on Remy’s hip, “Babe, it’s been almost six months. Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”

Remy pushes him away a little more forcefully, “Uh, I don’t know if you’re suffering some sort of amnesia right now but I’m ace. This isn’t something we wait for it’s something we don’t do.”

“Come on, I’m your boyfriend.”

Something about the way he says it, like it should be the end of the conversation, makes Remy acutely aware of his position lying beneath him; the way Kevin looms over him and won’t back off.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest when he abruptly sits up and pulls away, finally getting some distance between the two of them, “Yeah, and I’m still ace. You’ve know this practically since we met!”

Kevin starts getting a little heated, throwing his arms out in frustration, “Yeah, but we’re dating. I didn’t think it applied to me.”

“Excuse me?” Now Remy is standing, fuming, fists clenched even as he backs away from the bed, “You didn’t think my orientation ‘applied’ to you?”

“Well I thought you loved me.”

And that makes Remy’s breath catch in his throat. His vision tunnels till all he can see is his best friend. And he wants to say ‘I do’, he wants to say ‘not like this’, he wants to say ‘don’t make me prove it’.

He wants to say, ‘I thought you loved me, too.’

But he can’t get any words out, and so Kevin keeps talking, patronizing, “Look, I get if you don’t want to bang random people or whatever, but I’m your boyfriend. You’re not being fair to me.”

Remy swallows thickly, and finally managed to grind out, “I didn’t take you for the ‘dumb jock’ type, but I find it hard to believe you’ve got multiple brain cells when you sprout ignorant shit like that.”

“Oh, well sorry if I don’t know all the intricacies of you being a prude.” It hits like a punch to the gut, and Kevin rolls his eyes, his face smug like he’s just won, like he’s waiting for Remy to fold and like Hell is that happening. Remy feels like he’s on autopilot, spine straightening, chin up, eyes cold, looking down his nose at Kevin like he was the dirt on his shoe instead of the crumbling remains of the best friend he had ever had.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have realized “no” was too complex of a concept for you. After all, you’ve barely known me a year and most dogs take at least a week to learn that word.”

Across from him, Kevin’s face fell, first into shock, then into fury. He opened his mouth but Remy didn’t let him get a word in.

“It’s okay, most toddlers have trouble with it, but I’ll try to explain the best I can. No, we’re not having sex. No, you don’t always get what you want. No, you can’t tell me what to do. No, we’re not dating anymore since I have become suddenly acutely aware of how out of your league I am. You need me to say it again slower? Or would you rather have a visual?” Remy flipped him off, stone faced even as Kevin’s turned red with rage.

Gathering his things, Remy ignores all the names hurled his way, all the accusations and curses and insults. He refuses to flinch when he hears something crash, though he walks to the door a little faster.

Kevin tries to get the last word in, shouting at his back, “Good! I didn’t sign up for half a boyfriend!”

Remy doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even turn around.

“You couldn’t handle half.”

The door slams behind him.

His footsteps seem to echo through the empty street. Evening has fallen, the sky darkening from pink to deep reds and orange. Remy manages to get a few blocks away from Kevin’s house when he can’t hold it back anymore, and he ducks into an alley between two apartment complexes. Leaning against the brick wall, it feels like everything in him collapses and he finds himself sliding down to curl on the dirty ground and sob into his knees.

The worst part is, Remy already knows that everyone will pour out false sympathies for the breakup, for the fact that he doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore. And Remy won’t correct them; won’t explain that he honestly doesn’t care about the end of the romantic relationship, but that he broke down in an alleyway because he lost his best friend. His only friend.

And logically he knows that he’s been here before. He remembers having no friends before Kevin, being alone in a crowd and he knows that he survived it before. But he doesn’t remember it hurting quite this bad.

This aftermath is so much worse than anything from before, and Remy decides that none of the good times in between were worth it. Not at all.

For about a week Kevin and Remy’s breakup is the talk of the school. The masses that huddle around Remy coo and send him pitying glances, telling him there are more fish in the sea while Remy smiles stiffly and nods along. Kevin has a lot to say and he says it loudly. But Remy stays so calm and cool, saying nothing except to cut down anyone who tried to make him explain his side, it was hard to take much of what Kevin said seriously. To an outsider Kevin seemed like a rambling peasant, trying to smudge the Ice Queen’s name. Remy ignored him. Soon everyone else did too.

His dad tries to talk to him. Remy had come home, face blank and empty as he explained that he had broken up with Kevin.

“What happened?” Picani asked, concerned, “Things seemed to be going so well.”

Remy had only shrugged, “It just wasn't working out.”

“I'm so sorry, Sleepyhead,” he pulled his child close in a one sided hug, “I know breakups are tough. I'm here if you want to talk, okay?” Remy had nodded against his chest, and then locked himself in his room.

Picani tried to bring it up a few times after that, even offering at one point to see if one of his old coworkers from the therapy practice he used to work at could fit Remy in for a session or two. But Remy always smiled and shook his head, “It's just teen angst, pop. I'll be fine, promise.”

Still. For about two weeks after that, Remy comes home after school and immediately collapses into bed. Being awake wasn’t very fun.

Finally, almost a month after Remy had their heart ripped out, they sit up in bed, where they’ve been for the three hours since they got home, and realize how pathetic they are.

Fuck this. Remy doesn’t want to sit at home and feel sad. They don’t want to be frustrated and confused and alone with their goddamn thoughts. They decide right then and there that that’s not who they’re going to be.

Filled with determination, they get to their feet, pulling their phone out and scrolling through old messages- there was always someone having a party in this city. Sure enough by the time they’re dressed and pulling on their jacket they have the address of some rich senior who doesn’t mind a bunch of teenagers destroying his parents’ house.

“Hey dad, I’m going over to a friend’s house tonight!” Remy calls out as they head for the front door.

Picani peeks his head out from his office, “Oh, I didn’t know you had plans.”

Remy turned and shrugged, “It was kind of a last minute thing. But I’ll be back in the morning.”

The counselor had a look of concern on his face, “Alright. Text me when you get there?”

“Sure, sure.”

“Okay,” Remy was already walking away, not noticing their father’s worried eyes following him, “Stay safe, Sleepyhead.”

Remy is just killing time before his next class, leaning against a wall and fiddling with his phone, when the jock approached him.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” the other student smirks.

Raising an eyebrow, Remy looked the boy up and down. He recognized the boy as a recent transfer, a stereotypical football player that Remy thought only existed on tv and cliche teen movies.

“‘Sweetheart’? That’s your opener? Do you get all your lines from B movies? Try silent films, you’ll have more luck.”

A flash of annoyance crossed the other’s face, vanishing as he straightened to stand a little taller, “You know, when they said you had a mouth on you, I was hoping they meant in a… different way,” he leered blatantly.

Rolling his eyes, Remy turned back to his phone, “You clearly weren’t listening then. Any “they” talking about me knows I’m not into that,” he responded cooly.

The other boy only raises an eyebrow, “What, don’t tell me you’re actually straight?”

Remy scoffed, “Did I say I’m straight? I’m ace.”

“Oh,” he rolls his eyes, “So you’re straight.”

“Are your ears just for decoration?” Remy crossed his arms, “I’m ace. I’m not interested in sex with anyone, gender’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Maybe you just need the right person to change your mind,” the boy purrs, putting a hand on Remy’s hip and leaning over him, looming.

Remy gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his chest in sarcastic shock, “Oh my God! I didn’t know it was possible!” He leaned forward, looking straight into the other’s eyes, “You’ve managed to make me even less interested!” The jock sputtered indignantly, but Remy just smirked and slid around him, not bothering to lower his voice as he walked away, “If I wasn’t ace before, picturing you in bed turned me off for good.”

The hallway fills with whispers and giggles, and Remy knows he won, but he still needs to hide in the restroom for ten minutes because his heart is still pounding from the feeling of being cornered.

He’s not short, but he starts wearing boots with a bit of a heel on them anyway. He feels safer being able to look down on most of his classmates.

Maybe being awake wasn’t the problem, it was being sober, Remy decided.

Her laugh came easier after a few cheap beers. A couple shots and she could dance without a care. If she gets drunk enough she can forget that her happiness is an act.

It’s a solid system.

Remy is sitting on the steps outside of school, the usual suspects sitting around him as they all passed the time before classes started. Tired and frustrated from a long week, Remy had started ranting about the number of fuckbois at the school, when one of the guys next to them rolled his eyes.

“I mean, you do lead them on.*

Pushing their glasses up onto their forehead, Remy raised an eyebrow, “Literally everyone knows I’m ace. I don’t exactly hide it. How is that leading them on?”

“Well you don’t act asexual.”

“You don’t act like a single-celled organism and yet here we are.”

“I’m just saying,” the boy held his hands up in defense, “that you‘re always flirting with people.”

“Uh, yeah. Flirting is fun. But last I checked talking shit wasn’t the same as agreeing to do the nasty in a broom closet between classes.”

“Wait, did that happen?” A girl on the other side of him chimed in.

Remy shrugged, “No, it didn’t, which made a certain asshole very upset because apparently I broke some sort of unspoken contract by putting a stop to all that nonsense.”

The first boy leaned back, waving his hands in surrender, “Whatever man. I just don’t know what you expect when you…. You know,” he gestured vaguely at them.

Huffing, Remmy leaned forward on their knees, “Yeah, well, my expectations get lower everyday.”

Remy loves getting drunk and dancing in the very center of a crowd of people. He loves the warm buzz, and the feeling of human contact without any sort of obligation. He wears tanks and crop tops just to get some feeling on his skin.

“So, Sleep, interested in anyone these days?”

The girl leaning next to Remy’s locker bats her eyelashes, an unspoken but clear, interested in me? She’s vaguely familiar, just like everyone else. They don’t know each other.

Glancing over, Remy snorted, “I’m more interested in the state of my cuticles than anyone in this school, hon.” For a moment, the girl looks almost hurt, and Remy finds herself softening, “I’m not into dating. I realized I’m aromantic.”

There’s a beat of silence as the other girl absorbs the information. Suddenly, her eyes widen, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, that’s so sad!”

That made Remy raise an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

“Well, I mean,” she has her hands over her heart, looking at Remy with pity like she was a Hallmark movie widow, “you’re gonna be alone forever.”

“Riiiiiight,” Remy drawls, hiding her hurt beneath patronization, “I forgot about how you’re only allowed to interact with a significant other. Ever since that ban on friends and family. Rough times for all single girls.” She wiped away a fake tear.

“You know what I mean,” the other girl frowned, “Are you sure you want that? I mean you’ve dated before, isn’t it better to not be alone?”

And Remy decided right then and there, “No.” She slammed her locker shut, keeping her gaze haughty as she sauntered away, “None of you fuckers are good enough for me anyway.”

Remy is in someone’s basement, belly full of whiskey, laughing with a group of people whose names she doesn’t know and pretending she didn’t come here alone.

During lunch, Remy noticed a boy, Travis he thinks his name is, staring at Remy’s backpack.

“Dude, if you want the homework answers all you had to do was ask, not stare a hole into my bag.

Travis jumped, startled, but then he smirked, “I was just looking at your pins,” He gestured to the large buttons on the front of Remy’s bag. They were all different flags- a rainbow, the nonbinary flag, genderfluid flag, ace and aro flags, and a large pink button that just had the word “QUEER” in curly black font. Travis shook his head, still smiling, “You have too many things.”

Remy raised an eyebrow, “Pardon?”

“I just mean, most people are just gay, or trans, or whatever. You don’t have to be every letter in the alphabet you know.”

He said it so nonchalantly, Remy felt his teeth clench, “Sorry we can’t all be minimalist straight boys.”

Snickers sound through the group, and Travis snorts and rolls his eyes jokingly, and the conversation is forgotten.

That night Remy can’t find a party, so he sneaks into a club. He stands in front of booming speakers and loses count of how many shots he has, and doesn’t think about how he somehow manages to be too much and not enough at the same time.

Remy is eighteen when he stumbled through the front door, trying to close the door quietly behind him. But the effort was for naught, as the lights turned on, and when he twisted around, his father was standing in the entryway, eyes alight with worry and anger.

“Where have you been? It’s after two in the morning on a school night, I left you five messages and I don’t even know how many texts!”

“I’m sorry, I just lost track of time,” the teenager rubbed his forehead, slipping his sunglasses off to hold at his side. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” He tried to walk past his dad, one hand on the wall to try to keep his balance, but Picani grabbed his wrist.

“No! We are talking about this right now! You can't just-” he paused when he noted how the teen was swaying, “Remy are you drunk?” His voice was incredulous.

Remy blinked, shaking his head to try to clear his clouded thoughts, “I-“ he pulled his arm roughly out of his father’s grip, “I had a few drinks, that’s all! It’s not like I drove or anything-“

“It’s still irresponsible, and unsafe!” Picani raised his voice, brows furrowed with anger and worry, “You didn’t even tell me where you were going tonight! What if something had happened? I wouldn’t even know where to start looking!”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Remy rolled his eyes, “It’s high schoolers drinking, it’s not that big of a deal!”

“It’s a big deal because I know you’re lying to me!” The counselor’s voice continued to increase in volume. He knew he needed to calm down, to keep his composure and discuss what was happening rationally, to explain his side with a level head. But it was hard.

Because this was Remy. This was his child standing in front of him, swaying on his feet, hands trembling at his sides, with dark circles under his glaring eyes and hair a wild mess. It was jarring to see how very not okay his child seemed. And Picani felt his rationality slipping through his fingers.

“You’ve been staying out later and later, you never talk to me, your grades have been slipping, and now this-?”

“I get it dad, I’m a problem child!” He tried to look angry, but he couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice, or the glassy look in his eyes as he ran shaking fingers through his hair.

Picani felt something like desperation rise in him as he took a step forward, “That’s not what I’m saying. But Remy, this isn’t you-“

“I am so sick of everyone telling me who I am!” There was a quiet crash as Remy hurled his sunglasses at the wall, the lenses splintering into several shards. Chest heaving, the teen looked up at his father with venom in his eyes, “It’s like mom all over again.”

The words are quiet, and sharp, and suddenly Picani feels like he can’t breathe.

For a moment they both stand, looking at each other and wondering how exactly they got here. Then Remy turns, and without a word, he walks into his room and slams the door behind him.

~~~~

The next morning, Remy comes downstairs and sits across from his dad at the kitchen table before school and lets out a soft, “I’m sorry.”

Picani stares down into his coffee, “Me too.”

Remy keeps his eyes on the table, “I’ll do better. I promise.”

There is still something wrong. All his years of training as a therapist and a counselor scream at him to do something- to skip work and school and stay here and find out why his child looks so tired and hurt and what happened and they can’t just leave things like this-

But when he opens his mouth, the words die in his throat.

Remy doesn’t need another controlling parent.

“Okay,” he nods. And then he stands, because if they don’t leave soon they’re going to be late. “Okay.”

Picani gives him more space, and Remy gets better at hiding his habits, and they don’t talk about it again.

Graduation comes and goes in a blur. Remy hugs people he has no intention of seeing ever again. His dad cries, holding him close and taking an absurd amount of pictures. A part of Remy feels a spark of warmth at how his father glows with pride, how he had jumped up and down during the ceremony, shouting when Remy’s name was called, “That’s my kid! That’s my kid!” like he wanted the whole world to know. The counselor had been so understanding when Remy had chosen not to go to college, instead applying to be an apprentice at a tattoo shop downtown. When he got accepted, Picani had grinned widely and demanded they celebrate.

“Oh, I can’t wait to get something done by you!” He had clapped his hands excitedly.

Remy smirked, “I mean, you *did* kind of give me the idea.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Picani winked sarcastically, crossing his uncovered and heavily tatted arms in emphasis.

A huff of laughter escaped Remy as he turned back to the computer in front of him, continuing to fill out the apartment application open in front of him. As he typed, his father moved to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder at the form for the small studio apartment.

“Remy… are you sure you don’t want to just live at home a little longer? You know I don’t mind.”

“I know,” Remy looked up to smile gently at him, the man’s face apprehensive and cautious, “and I know it doesn’t look like much, but I don’t mind having a smaller space while I work through my apprenticeship. I’m just…” she took a moment to consider her words. Trying to work around the truth without lying, “I want to start the next phase, you know? Start being an adult.”

Picani still looked concerned, so Remy smiled, leaning against his shoulder, “I won’t be far. You’ll still see me all the time, and I’ll still come by to raid the fridge and do laundry and watch Steven Universe.”

The counselor grinned, putting his arm around his child in a half hug, “Well, I guess when you put it that way…” He swiftly pulled Remy into a full embrace, crying out dramatically, “I guess I just wasn’t ready for my little Sleepyhead to grow up so fast!”

“Daaaaaad!” Remy laughed, halfheartedly struggling to escape.

It doesn’t take long to move Remy into his apartment. The space is small, so he only brought a few pieces of furniture. A mattress on the floor, a thrift store loveseat, an old crate to serve as a temporary side table, and a couple lamps. A few boxes and a suitcase held the rest of Remy’s life that he wanted to take with him.

Picani still seems apprehensive, but Remy does his best to soothe him, “I literally just moved in. It’ll look better once I get settled.”

“I know, you’re right,” his dad smiled, “I just can’t believe you’re all grown up now.”

“Taller than you and everything,” Remy joked.

“Only by a couple inches!” Picani cried indignantly, his lips twitching towards a smile.

Shaking his head fondly, Remy opened his arms, “Come on, it’s getting late and you have work tomorrow.”

Pulling his child into a hug, Picani gripped him tight, “I’m always a phone call away.”

“I know dad.”

Their goodbyes stretch a moment longer before the counselor finally takes his leave. The door clicks shut, and Remy moves to sit on the mattress, staring ahead blankly and waiting for twenty minutes to pass, as though his father might come back and catch him if he doesn’t wait. But he’s suddenly struck by the knowledge that he’s on his own now.

Nothing is against the rules anymore.

He doesn’t have to sneak around. He can leave his music blasting while he dumps out his suitcase and finds his fake ID and his favorite club outfit. There is freedom in being alone. No one to tell him who to be, or tell him to change, or be disappointed whether he does or not.

He’s free.

It’s dark outside by the time Remy finishes his makeup and grabs his keys. He grins as he walks down the street, heading towards a night of strangers and mindless noise and bodies pressed against each other without obligation and alcohol to drown out whatever the music couldn’t.

Yeah. Being alone is better.

Remy repeats that to himself a few more times as he makes his way into the night.

#punk au #winter winds #punk remy #remy/october #(sleepy hallow)#transphobia #transphobia tw #enbyphobia #nbphobia #exorsexism #hahahaha watch no one like this story #I tried #YEET

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ai-suru-hito-yo · 5 years ago

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Sweet Dreams 'Til Sunbeams Find You (Breaky)

Summary: Queen has been working diligently to break into the business, while two of their members work just as frantically academically. It catches up to one member in particular, but luckily, he's not alone in his struggles.

Pairing: Brian May/John Deacon

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm not dead! I started this a couple weeks ago with the intention of kicking off pride month with a little Breaky blurb. I've finally finished it, and I kind of love how fluffy it is. Anyway, check out the most cliche, cute trope y'all have read five thousand times, but I had to do it. Oh yeah and! I looked it up, Herbal Essece was fairly popular in the 70's, and the advertising seemed very John to me so....

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, and a reused trope. Also not beta'd, so all mistakes be mine own.

Brian woke with a start, moonbeams filtering in through the thin drapes of the window across the room. Not sure at first what woke him, he stared at the ceiling for a moment before rolling to his side, reaching over to pull his bedmate closer. That is, until his hand closed on air. He felt the sheets, cold but rumpled. He was certain he hadn't gone to sleep alone, and the state of the empty half of the bed supported this, but the other man must have risen some time in the night.

Puzzled, Brian listened for any movement that might indicate where John had gone. He didn't see any light coming from the attached bathroom, and so excluded that possibility. He could hear no movement from the rest of his flat, either. A sense of worry took up residence in the pit of Brian's stomach, pushing him from his bed and out of the room to investigate.

Upon opening the door, a dim flood of light streamed from the direction of the kitchen, casting a glow that was harsh to his ill-adjusted eyes. Blinking rapidly a few times against the discomfort, the curly-haired man quietly made his way down the hall and to the main part of his flat.

The sight Brian found in the kitchen immediately banished the feeling in his gut, his heart instead doing somersaults behind his ribcage.

There in the sturdiest (and therefore least squeaky) of the mismatched dining chairs sat John, slumped over the table, open math textbook for a pillow. His bag lay open at his feet, notebooks, pencils, a compass and a teacup surrounding him on the table, face hidden by long, disheveled hair.

Brian looked on fondly for a moment, remembering a conversation he and John had just three days ago. John had been worried about balancing school with the band, a stress that Brian himself felt almost constantly. He figured John must have woken at some point in the night and, in a panic, made his way back the the kitchen to double check his work.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, the tall man quietly made his way over the the sagging couch, gathering up the blanket that lay draped over it. He quietly turned toward the sleeping figure at the table, contemplating whether to leave John to sleep in his uncomfortable position or wake him to coax him back into bed. Deciding he could not bear to wake him, Brian gently draped the blanket over John's sagging shoulders. He leaned close and pressed a kiss to the soft locks of long, brown hair, lingering for a moment to inhale the familiar, comforting scent of John's Herbal Essence shampoo.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered. "I hope you find peace with all of this soon."

He then turned to leave, intending to slip quietly back into bed, when he heard a deep intake of breath from behind him and froze. John suddenly shot up straight, looking around himself in a panic before he seemed to remember where he was. As he stretched his arms over his head, John caught sight of the blanket falling around him, then of Brian frozen in the doorway.

"Bri? Whaydoin?"

Brian faced John again, watching as his lover's head drooped toward the table again. Now that John had stirred, he decided he should probably take the opportunity to try and move him back to bed.

The guitarist folded his tall figure down, kneeling next to John in the chair to try and see his face. Grey-green eyes were hidden behind droopy eyelids, and John plush lips had parted with his soft breaths. He looked peaceful, but Brian knew that John would be supremely uncomfortable and unrested if left here all night. He reached out to tangle his long fingers gently in John's soft hair, hoping the gently stimulation would help wake him.

"John? John, lovely, wake up for me, please? Deacy, you've fallen asleep on your maths textbook."

John woke with another deep breath, blinking groggily at Brian.

"Hmm?"

"Love, you've fallen asleep at the table, on your textbook. Please come back to bed?"

"Hmm'kay."

Brian started to rise to his feet again, feeling victorious, when he suddenly found his arms full of bassist. John had turned and fling his arms over Brian's shoulders, letting his weight fall onto the older man.

"John, no! Oof..." Brian barely managed to catch John wothout falling backwards onto the floor. "John. This isn't what I meant. Come on love, come back to bed with me, it'll be far more comfortable."

John only nuzzled his nose against Brian's neck and mumbled something that sounded like, "you're comfortable."

Realizing this was not going to be easy, Brian took a deep breath and pushed back against John. His patience was wearing thin, he just wanted to take his boyfriend back to bed and hold him. We'll have to do this the hard way, I suppose.

Brain pushed John back into the chair and quickly got to his feet again. He took John's hands and pulled him upright before hooking John's hands around his neck. Thankfully John got the idea then, even in his half conscious state, and wrapped his arms around Brian's shoulders. The taller man then wrapped his own long arms around John's tiny waist and pulled him upward, forcing him to stand.

John wobbled on unsteady feet, and Brian held his lover close against his body as John fully woke up.

"Wha-what?! Brian!"

"It's alright love, I've got you."

"Oh. Oh. Did I...fall asleep?" John asked, glancing at the table beside them. He let go of Brian's neck, instead smoothing his large hands over Brian's shoulders and letting them rest on the older man's chest.

Brian looked down fondly at the man in his arms. "Yes. I woke up and couldn't find you, you had me worried for a moment."

John simply smiled softly by way of an apology and reached up to press a light kiss to the guitarist's full bottom lip. They broke apart softly, lingering in each other's space. Hazel eyes peering into green, searching for any signs of dishonesty, Brian asked, "Are you alright? Everything going okay with your schoolwork."

Looking down toward their feet, John quietly sighed before answering.

"Yeah, it's alright, I guess. I just...had a bad dream."

Brian tucked a finger under John's chin, encouraging him to look up again. When he once again met green eyes in the dim kitchen lighting, Brian tried to give the bassist a comforting smile.

"You want to talk about it? You know you can talk to me."

"Yes, I know."

"Even if I'm asleep. You can wake me up. I don't mind."

"Yes. I probably won't, but thank you."

"John."

"Brian."

"John."

John reach up to tangle long fingers in messy black curls, giving a soft tug in protest of Brian's stubbornness.

"Brian, it was nothing, really. I had a bad dream that I'd gotten every calculation wrong in this project I've been working on, and knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I checked them. So I did, and then I made some tea, and must have nodded off. It's silly, and there's no need for you to worry."

Brian smiled before leaning in to press another soft kiss to pouty pink lips. "Well, if you're sure. Come on, let's go back to bed."

"Mmm, yes, let's."

Once they had both settled back between the sheets, Brian with his arm tucked securely around John, pressed chest to back, Brian couldn't help but ask.

"Deacy?"

"Hm? Yeah Brimi?"

"Your calculations. What was the verdict?"

"Oh they were all fine, of course."

Brian laughed, pressing his face into John's hair, and fell back asleep surrounded by warmth and the smell of Herbal Essence.

#borhap slash #john deacon #brian may #breaky #brian may/john deacon #brian may x john deacon #john deacon/brian may #john deacon x brian may #queen slash #queen fanfiction #theyre too cute as a couple i cant stop

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stony-eyed-and-marvel-minded · 5 years ago

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Let Me Try That Again

Read on AO3 here

Summary: Sam tries pushing Bucky a little farther with their growing tension, but his first attempt might have been too subtle.

Rating: M, WC: 1410, CH: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of Quarantine Quick Writes

Notes: Today's prompt was: "Who hurt you?"

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

The dust clears on the field outside the Avengers newly remodeled camp and Sam is left with the image of Bucky’s tousled hair and clearly perturbed face.

“Are you sure that move is allowed during training? Last time I checked, Nat said that unless we’re actually in the field, she’s the only one who can use it. And I think that’s fair.” Bucky attempts to shake out the dirt from his hair and it takes everything within Sam to not fall to the ground laughing. Sam had just used a newly mastered skill on Bucky that slams and drags one's face through the dirt as he cartwheels over them.

“Well if you didn’t want me using it on you, you shouldn’t have taught it to me and then proceeded to try and grab my wing! That is premium level Vibranium there bud, and it deserves respect! Besides, Nat told me that I would get a pass if I was using the move on you considering you are one of the two people who should be able to handle it.”

Bucky looks up with his hands still embedded in his hair and a look of horror plastered on his face. “Are you making fun of my defense skills right now?”

Sam holds up his hands in mock defense, “All I’m saying, is that as a trained assassin, blocking that move should have been a no-brainer.”

Sam has been training with Bucky on the field outside the Avengers base for most of the morning now, and it was going pretty flawlessly. Bucky was able to finally get Sam to understand the different techniques he uses with knives and how to turn your attackers' advances against them.

Now, Nat hadn’t actually given Sam permission to use any advanced techniques on Bucky — that was a complete bluff — but Sam needed a reason to get Bucky riled up, because he really liked it when Bucky got riled up. The tension between the two for the past year has gotten to nearly unbearable heights. Even Wanda commented on it. But all it’s done is made Sam more encouraged to push just a little bit more.

Bucky marches over to Sam — whose eyebrows raise with every step Bucky gets closer — and slams his palms into Sam’s chest making him bounce back a few steps. “You better watch yourself Wilson, you know for damn sure you can’t take me in a hand-to-hand fight where I’m not holding back.”

Sam just steps closer, and subtly looks Bucky up and down while he bites his lip before saying, “Who says I ever wanted you to hold back?” For a brief moment Bucky looks shocked and confused. Sam definitely caught him off guard, and he just hopes that Bucky takes it the way that he’s intending.

“Sam I—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my come on too subtle?” Sam interrupts, “Let me try that again. I really want to hear your moans filling my room as I fill your tight ass.” He pauses and Bucky blinks. “Is that better?”

Dumbfounded. That’s the emotion that Bucky is now wearing. Sam just hopes he didn’t break the poor little assassin. Bucky blinks a few times and a grin slowly spreads across his face.

“Does that line really work for you?” Bucky’s laughing now, which leaves Sam with only one other choice. He steps even closer until they’re chest to chest, their noses nearly bumping. This close up, Sam can see Bucky’s eyes dilate ever so slightly.

Sam brushes his lips across Bucky’s ear to distract from his hand wandering into Bucky’s hair. “You tell me,” Sam whispers as his hand closes into a fist and gently tugs. The motion sends Bucky’s head back ever so slightly. His mouth opens in a quiet gasp and Sam chuckles.

Bucky groans in frustration? Pleasure? Sam doesn’t get much time to think about it before Bucky is crushing his mouth to Sam’s. It takes a moment for Sam to regain his composure, but once he does, he kisses Bucky back with equal fervor, hand still entangled with his gorgeous hair. He’s not sure how this is possible, but kissing Bucky is better than Sam could have ever imagined. It sounds cliche yes, but his lips are so soft, but the pressure firm and demanding.

They finally pull apart when air becomes necessary. Bucky mumbles against Sam’s eagerly awaiting lips, “Are you going to make good on that promise, or do I need to court you like the gorgeous dame you are?”

Bucky is cackling when Sam pulls away further, eyebrows scrunching up.

“You are the strangest, you know that?” Is all Sam says, smiling as Bucky makes his way around Sam and toward the compound.

He smacks Sam’s ass and playfully responds, “Oh but you love that about me! Now, I will be waiting in your room, and hopefully you will join me to — what was it you said you were going to do? Ah yes! Make my moans fill said room as you fill my tight ass,” Bucky makes his way closer to the compound and winks over his shoulder.

“Don’t keep me waiting doll!” He shouts before he slips inside.

Sam just shakes his head and chuckles. He can’t wipe the stupid grin from his face as he jogs to catch up.

Sam definitely makes Bucky’s moans fill the room as he fills his tight ass.

THE NEXT MORNING***

Sam fidgets in his seat. The team meeting started fifteen minutes ago and Bucky still isn’t here. He thought his note about the meeting was clearly placed for Bucky to see when he got out of his shower. Apparently it wasn’t clear enough. Sam’s just about to text him when the conference room door clicks open and a sheepish face pokes through.

Bucky tries and fails to be covert in his attempts to join the meeting sixteen minutes late. Everyone’s eyes are on him as he makes his way over to an open chair. It’s slightly awkward, but Bucky nods to Fury to continue. As Bucky sits and Fury starts back up, Sam notices the most horrifying thing. Bucky winces as he sits down. Now normally Sam would poke fun at him for it, but this time Sam knows exactly what is causing Bucky to wince. So instead, he blushes and quickly looks away.

“You okay Barnes?” Natasha asks and Sam tries not to wince — of course she would notice. This was not how he wanted the team to find out about them, but now everyone’s attention is back on Bucky.

“What is going on Barnes? You’re late to my meeting and now you’re continuing to disrupt it.” Fury is clearly annoyed, but there’s also slight amusement. Sam thinks he catches Fury glancing at him, but that can’t be. Sam grabs his water and takes a long drink in attempts to hide his nerves.

“Oh, I’m sorry Fury, I was just tending to some bruising this morning. I got pretty banged up last night.” Buck replies. Sam nearly chokes on his water and turns wide eyes over to him. Bucky looks just as nervous as Sam feels, and he knows there’s no way of hiding their hookup now.

“Who hurt you? I don’t remember you going on any missions last night,” Peter asks with genuine concern.

“I have a feeling the hurt was very consensual” Natasha smoothly says. Sam darts a look at her, just to see she’s already looking right at him and grinning. “Isn’t that right Sam?”

Now the whole room is looking between them and Sam just wishes he could melt to the floor.

“Fine we fucked! What more do you want from me!?” Bucky bursts out. The conference room is silent for a moment before it explodes with laughter. Sam even catches a few people exchanging money.

“Well it’s about time!” Fury exclaims. “Now, can we get back to the meeting, or do you two have more you want to share?”

“No Fury, you can continue,” Sam nods in somber acceptance. Glancing over at Bucky one more time, Sam finds him blushing as Nat fondly punches his shoulder. Bucky — most likely feeling Sam’s gaze — looks up and smiles. Sam winks back before returning to the meeting. They’ll be all right. His phone buzzes and he looks down to see a text from Bucky.

Frosty ❄️: thanks for last night. Looking forward to more ;)

Bird Brain 🦅: You better believe it ;)

Yeah, they’ll be alright.

End Notes:

Soooooo what did you guys think? I would have made this explicit instead of simply implying if I had more time to pull that off. Genna and I did today's challenge in a little over an hour. Even without the much wanted smut, I hope y'all enjoyed it! Again, hmu on AO3 :). You should also....check out my other writing challenge..

#oops i did it again #winter falcon fic #my fic #a lil comedy #implied smut #writing challenge 2 #hope yall enjoy

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