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krys4h · 3 months ago

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𝐞𝐦𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐲 ☆

𓍯 taking someone's virginity in a room you didn't remember entering wasn't in your plans tonight, but alcohol and Choso was a deadly combo.

contents : 4.3k, au university, fem!reader, virgin!choso, tattooed!choso, nsfw, smut with plot, alcohol, dry humping, masturbation, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, first time, creampie, praise, oral sex (f receving), pet name (baby), choso is a softie, confident reader, reader has acrylics, lot of jewelry and a belly piercing, the warped tour is still active, minors dni.

The exams was finally over and everyone only wanted one thing : partying.

You were no different. Dressed in a flattering tank top that hugged your chest beautifully and a slim jeans, you were ready for to have fun. It felt good for you to have the opportunity to get dolled up, you barely had the energy to do your makeup sometimes when you were focused on your studies. But now you had plenty of times to take care of yourself and wear cute outfits at parties like now.

The party was giant, you weren’t close with the person who hosted it, but they certainly had money. Most of the people was smoking in living room, the smell of weed was omnipresent. The music blasted loudly in the big speakers, you needed sometimes to cover your ears to listen to your friends.

“What?” you repeated a few times, lowering your head to them. “Haunted” by Beyoncé was playing and you couldn’t help vibing to the song. It was a remix with the ending of it extended and it intensified the sound beautifully.

“Isn’t that Choso?” your friends pointed, and that alone caught all your attention.

You stopped immediately what you were doing and glanced at the direction they were looking in. Alone against a wall and far from the crowd, your crush was standing with a red cup in hand. You heart raced at the sight. He wasn’t the type to party, so you were excited to see him here.

“Sorry, I’ll be back later,” you smiled at your friends, your eyes on him, your feet already moving.

They chuckled, knew already that you would do that. Everyone knew you had a thing for him, except him maybe. Choso wasn’t really the most intuitive person on earth, he kind of struggled with a lot of things socially. But you always loved his aloof behavior, he had that “nerdy charisma” that was difficult to explain.

Lost in thoughts and his head lowered, he didn’t noticed you approaching first. It was when he hear the near heels and jewelry sounds. His eyes looked up to you and his heart raced when he realized you were coming for him. He shifted a bit, gripping his cup. If you weren’t used to see in you English class, you would think he hated you with the distant air he displayed. But you knew deep down that Choso was a softie.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a soft voice, a cup similar to his in your hand.

“Hey.” His eyes shifted, looking down, avoiding looking at you.

You leaned against the wall next to him, your head side on it. You stared at Choso, noticing his eye bags. It was kind of sexy on him.

“It’s cool to see you, you’ve never came in these type of parties,” you said, the alcohol making you way more extroverted than you were. Your gaze lingered on his rock band shirt, pulled a bit on it. “My chemical romance?” you raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you’re listening when you have your headphone?”

Heat came to his face when you tugged on his shirt, he tried to play it cool.

“Yuji wanted me to go with him so… Yeah, I listen to-”

“You’re not gonna look at me?”

He scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks pinkish.

“Sorry,” Choso mumbled, finally laying his eyes on you but your beauty slapped his face. This is exactly why he preferred looking at the ground. It would never make him agitated and mesmerized like you did now. You were glowing with your makeup and the earrings you were wearing, he liked everything about your appearance.

His gaze fell on your lips for a second, absorbed by your lipgloss but shifted quickly to look away, not wanting to be impolite.

You chuckled, finding cute how anxious he was for you. He wasn’t like that with anybody in the campus, barely even acknowledged people and showed emotions on his face. You got closer to him, enjoying your unusual confidence.

“You seems nervous,” you smiled, sipping on your cup.

God, you were making this hard for him.

“No, I-”

“You know, I have an idea,” you placed you cup on a nearby surface. He widened his eyes when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his breath coming short.

“Why don’t you have fun with me? It’s better than staying alone here,” you whispered, you face close to his. You stared at his lip piercings, already feeling your stomach warming at the idea in your head.

You were too intoxicated to be embarrassed of yourself, nothing could stop you.

“Uh, I…,” Choso stammered, he almost lost balance when you clanged to him, forced to hold your waist.

His head was gonna explode. He never really spoke to any girls, and was even scared to say anything to you in class. He had a thing for you since the day he saw you, but was inexperienced with women.

Sure that your feelings was reciprocated because of his nervousness, you didn’t waste time. You leaned against him and his breath stopped when your lips met his. The fervor with which you kissed him made him weak, his hands trembled against you. He couldn’t believe what was happening, yet he didn’t reject you. He dreamed of this many times.

Your tongue grazed at his snake bites piercings and he let out a low gasp in your mouth. His heart pounded, he was overwhelmed by you, not knowing what to do but letting you dominate.

Pressed against the wall, he forgot all the people surrounding the two of us, only feeling your tongue.

“So?” you breathed against his lips.

He nodded almost immediately. You smirked before leaning to make out again.

You don’t know how the two of you found a way toward an empty room, your mind too hazy to grasp anything, but you know how cold his tongue piercing could be when he brushed it against yours.

Holding you by the waist, Choso carried you while kissing you. His tongue strokes was a bit clumsy, but he tried his best to follow you. You dipped your hand in his long hair, moaning softly when he knocked you against a door. He struggled to find the door handle, too busy grinding against you. He wanted to be buried in you so bad, his mind was in fire. He never felt that type of urge before. Everything was happening so fast for him, he only acted on instinct now.

He opened the door with his left hand, his right arm below your ass to lift you. His ease to carry you was making you excited to see what he hid below all these a band shirts. The room was small library with a relax corner, illuminated by a luxurious low lamp. You didn’t waste any time once he sat on the sofa.

As you sat on his lap, your hips rolled against his erection and Choso let out a strangled gasp, jolting. Your hands clanged on his shirt in his back with an enthusiasm that could scare him if he wasn’t as intoxicated as you. The sound of the party outside the door was muffled, you ears peaked at each of his sighs. Choso fondled your ass, gripping at it. The friction of your jeans rubbing against each other made him hissing, his expression contorted in a grimace.

He dreamed of this moment, having your ass in full display, his hands free of touching you all over. His eyes looked up to you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed, slightly panting.

“Don’t worry.”

You took his hands and placed on your hips. He swallowed, still unsure of himself.

Anybody looking at Choso knew he never felt the touch of a woman. He barely opened his mouth in class, wasn't very approachable and everything that wasn't about Yuji and rock seemed to disinterest him. You never saw him talking to anyone beside his little brother and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were his first kiss now.

You continued to grind against him, savoring the sensation of your jeans rubbing against your clothed clit. You were already wet down here, your mind wasn’t even thinking of a plan, you were just vibing. The friction felt so good. His hands shook on your hips, nervous.

You gave him a languid kiss and caressed his chest, trying to ease his anxiety. You swallowed all of his sighs and gasps.

“Is this your first time?” you whispered next to his ear, “You don’t have to do it, I can stop now if you want.”

Your hands in his hair and your breath in his neck was too much for him. He struggled to respond.

“It’s okay, I…” he begun and cleared his throat, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Can I show you?”

You placed your hands on his.

“How do you want me to move?” you smiled at his nervous gaze, “Choose the pace.”

His grip was hesitant at first, his palms sweaty. As you rode him, he slowly took charge and guided your movements. His warm breath caressed your neck as you rubbed against each other.

Your close-fitted top was making his jean tighten every time you rolled your hips and your chest went in front of him. He fought the urge to lift his hands to grab your breasts. You nuzzled his neck, inhaling softly.

“Can I…?” he breathed.

“Mmm?”

He mimicked you, leaning down on your neck. Your breath hitched when his lips teased your skin. His touch was unsure, testing the waters, but goes more confident when he pressed soft kisses along your throat. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he knows he wanted to make you feel good. Dreaming about you was cool, but now you were his lap.

You lowered your hands on his shoulders and caressed them, biting your lip every time your clit rubbed against the bulge of his jean.

“You’re doing well.”

He bring you closer, moving you faster.

“Am I?” he panted, looking up to you. “You’re so beautiful.”

His eyes was brilliant, mesmerized by you. Your stomach warmed at his compliment and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re so cute.”

He was doing a dangerous game talking to you like that. Your panties was already soaked from the back and forth, if he said more things like that with that low voice of his, you don’t know what you would do. Maybe sucking him off, just to hear him moan your name. Or maybe it was just the alcohol that was making you crazy with a simple phrase of him. In any case, you stood anyway, your hands on his shoulders. He looked up at you with a confused expression.

“Can I do something?”

“For me?” he frowned, as if displeased with the idea. He brought you closer, your hand played with his dark strands of hair. “I want to do something too.”

You titled your head.

“Like what?”

His hands grazed your ass, his cheeks pinkish.

“Can you just…” he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you on his lap and laid you down on the sofa. “Just tell me how to do it.”

He didn’t wanted to be the disappointment of your night so he swallowed his anxiety and bent toward you. He stood with his elbows each side of your stomach and gazed at your belly piercing. Your stomach contracted with anticipation, understanding what was going trough his head.

“You sure? You don’t have to-”

“Can that pretty mouth of yours let me please you?” he stopped you, staring at you. He bit the inside of his mouth and blushed at his own assurance. You smirked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Okay, baby.”

His erection intensified when he heard the pet name. Choso looked down, and swallowed a bit. He closed his eyes a moment, inhaling before starting to kiss your skin. You hold you breath. His lips roamed around your lower belly, he tasted the skin he dreamed to feel against his tongue. You stroked his hair to encourage him, feeling the softness of his black strands. His fists tensed as your acrylics grazed at his scalp.

“Uh…”

He didn’t know if he should go straight to it, or still kiss you. He hesitated and paused his mouth near your jeans button.

“Do I…”

“It’s fine.”

You helped him unbuttoning your trousers. He looked down on you.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve never seen.”

You chuckled as you lifted your hips to take off your jeans, and threw it below the sofa. His mouth went dry at the sight.

“You’re so…” Choso was at a lost of words. The teasing look of your face, the wet trail of his kiss on your abdomen and your lace tong was too much for him. He wipe off his sweaty hands on the couch, and brushed the side of your thighs.

“I’m sorry if I’m bad,” his lips hovered over your lower body.

“Choso, I think you’re already doing a pretty good job.”

“Really?”

His pulled a bit on the elastic of your panties.

“Yeah,” you shifted on the couch, your hands on his shoulders.

He raised his eyes a bit to see your reactions, he wanted to make sure he was doing the good thing. His warm breath hit your clothed cunt, throbbing in anticipation. Without warning, he pushed the tissue of your panties to the side and kissed you.

You jolted and gasped, your hands clenched in his hair. He backed down a bit, his face worried.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No…” you shook your head and relaxed a bit, “I was just surprised.”

He craved you. He wanted to do so many things at once to you that he ended up speeding up the process. But his passion for you could overcome his inexperience if he tried hard. You knew it the second he buried his tongue in you, tasting your juices with enthusiasm. You chocked and tightened your legs around his head. He wasn’t hesitant at all.

“Show me,” he whispered.

You placed your hands on his head and guided his movements. Choso dived to your folds with his tongue, lapping up and down. You let out a low moan, he was inexperienced but he was so eager to please you, his devotion excited you so much. Your taste on his tongue was making him crazy. He craved your taste and ate you out with fervor. As you grind on his face, he held your legs against his head.

His heart raced with nervousness, his mind full of doubts. Was it good? Was it too fast? Despite that, he pushed his tongue in you with force and vigor, eager to make you more moan that you were already. You were so soaked, his mouth made lewd noises every time he moved his head up and down, making circles with his tongue. His face wet in your juices, you guided him toward your clit that he sucked with greed. You shifted on the couch, throwing your head back. You were a mess, the room was filled with your panting.

“Choso,” you breathed, “Here,” you guided him, showing where to suck and lap, and he gladly followed you.

The pit in your stomach grew as the cold metal of his tongue piercing brushed your clit and made you jolt again.

“F-Fuck!”

You struggled to stay still as you shifted on the sofa. You trapped him between your legs, he continue to ate you out, with his eyes closed, his mind dizzy. He was in heaven, you tasted so good, this is was beyond everything he dreamed for. His nose rubbed your sweet spot every time he moved his head, causing you to pant even louder.

“Come here.”

He looked up to you, his mouth still making out with your cunt.

“You want me to…”

“Yeah.”

Choso paused. He gazed at your feverish eyes, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach. He was the reason you were aroused, you seemed satisfied but he didn’t saw you come. Did he do something bad? Sensing his doubts, you smiled to him.

“Don’t worry baby, you did good,” you straightened on your elbows. “I want just need more, okay?”

You loved how devoted he was to you, but he was still inexperienced, and you knew you needed more than that. You didn’t want to make things awkward for him if it was getting repetitive, and you didn’t finish. He nodded, and get closer to kiss your cheek. He wet your skin with your slick.

“I don’t have any protection.”

“I don’t need one,” you said, tugging at his jeans. You were on pills.

He wipe off again his sweaty hands on the sofa and inhaled. It was the moment he waited for. The moment he couldn’t ruin because he liked you too much to disappoint you. Outside the door, the party continued, people unaware of what was going between you and Choso.

He stood on his knees, taking off his band shirt. Your breath caught in your throat as you discovered his lean torso. You made a mental note in your head to never underestimate introverted guys from now, because, God, he was sexy. You caressed his sides, touching his tattoos. His abs tensed when he bent over you, tilting his head. He had a shy expression on his face.

“I’m sorry if…”

“Can you just fuck me already,” you spread your legs, staring at him standing up on your elbows.

He gulped. He took off his shoes with a simple gesture of his feet, throwing them on the floor. He got closer to you, looking at you as you undressed yourself, removing the rest of your clothes. His mouth watered at your chest, he leaned down to kiss it. With the palm of his hand, he fondled one of your left breast and sucked the nipple of the right. Your fists tighten on the sofa, breathing softly.

Choso leaned back to unbutton his jeans, his muscular chest and tattoos in display. You bit the inside of your mouth, and started to caressed yourself while looking at him. He froze and widened his eyes, caught off guard. You were so fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he really had you below him. His eyes followed your movements and lingered on the circles you were doing on your sweet spot. You fingered yourself and his mouth watered again. As he quickly stripped off himself, you silently prayed nobody would enter the room, not forgetting you were at a party.

You were already close from him eating you out, but your pussy clenched when you saw his length. He looked like he didn’t get bitches, but damn. You were already excited to feel him inside you.

And him too because he slid into you without warning. He immediately caught his breath, overwhelmed by your wetness and the warmth of your entrance. It felt incredible, like anything he felt before. You whined, already sensitive, your fingers pressed against your clit.

“Wait,” you needed time to adjust to his size, and he was too abrupt.

He nodded, and let you the time you needed. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you gave him a soft smile, your stomach warmed up. He was so sweet with you, he really treated you like someone he cared for.

He pushed his cock deeper inside you and you placed your hands on his hips, guiding him. He needed to contain himself and took things slowly. He knew he was a virgin, so it was already miracle he didn’t finished the second he was inside you. He bent over, his hand on the backrest of the couch, and thrust into you in a slow motion. He panted, his forehead sweating. Your slick covered his cock as he pulled out with caution, and he shut his eyes tight, thrusting again. Your warmth welcomed him, the sensation was divine. He did his best not to move too fast, he was scared to ruin the moment and finish early.

At first, it was what he wanted. He wanted to keep his pace gentle and precise, holding your legs around his waist, putting you in a comfortable position. He wanted to hear your soft sighs when he pushed against you, to continue to feel your acrylics planted in his biceps, to hear your hoop earrings hit against the sofa as he rocked his hips against you. But when your hands pressed his butt against you to feel him better, he lost his mind.

The room was now filled with your pants and whimpers, Choso pounding into you as if he would die if he didn’t make this right. He wasn’t jackhammering, but fucking you with long and deep strokes. He needed to fill you, and see your body twitching as he buried his cock in you.

“Is it too fast?” he panted out.

“No, it’s perfect,” you rolled your hips and followed his frantic pace.

His cock filled your tight walls as he stretched you to his size. You were a mess and breathing heavily as you clenched around his length. A gasp escaped your mouth when his thrusts became more and more aggressive.

“I dreamed of this.”

He was at lost of breath.

“I dreamed of…”

He let out a low moan, his back and forth quicker and harder. A familiar coil in your lower abdomen, your fingers circled around your spongey spot as you panted. Your body twitched when he lifted your hips even more, pushed to hilt and flushed his pelvis against you.

“C-Choso,” you stuttered and clenched your thighs around his waist.

“It’s okay, I got you.”

It was supposed to be you who reassured him, not the other way around. He gained confidence in his movements and slammed into you with force. He was fucking you with an ardent energy, your hands shook as you struggled to even touch yourself. You stammered incomprehensible things. His grip on the sofa was tight as he pounded into you. He was immersed in the sight of your tits bouncing, his mouth open and panting. He was in heaven.

Your back and forth made lewd and wet noises as you milked him, the sensation was divine for him. His hips stuttered when you tightened around him. You shut your eyes tight as you arched your back. Your orgasm traveled your body with a tremendous force. Choso’s eyes roved over you, taking in your sight as he drove his cock in you. He was so close. He lost himself within you, his strokes sloppy.

He tried to resist to the imminent feeling before his weight crashed you. His dick twitched as he emptied himself inside of you. He fell between your breasts, his breath coming in short pants, just like you. The smell of sex and sweat enveloped the two of you. For a short moment, none of you talked.

“Wow,” he turned his head on the side.

You wrapped your arms around him.

“I told you we were gonna have fun.”

He smiled against your skin.

“Yeah, but I never thought you would be…” his voice grew hesitant, “Into me.”

“You have to be blind,” your hands stroked his hair and he closed his eyes. “Everybody knew it.”

“Really?”

“My friends wouldn’t even be surprised if I told them what we did.”

His arms encircled you and he nuzzled your chest. He pressed soft kisses around your breasts, his touch gentle and not as sexual as before.

“I can’t believe what we did.”

“We can do it again if you liked it.”

He widened his eyes and you burst into laughing.

𖥸

“You sure you’re okay? Wasn’t it too rough in the end?”

“You’re so cute, Choso.”

You were sharing a blunt with him on a bench, surrounded by bushes and shrubs, not far from the party. The weed had a calming effect on you, and you were smiling since the two of you dressed yourselves. Choso’s worry was so cute to watch, he was almost apologizing for everything he did.

“Why aren’t you asking for my number instead of talking?” you glanced at him as your lips wrapped around the blunt and took a drag.

Choso blushed, caught off guard and shifted on the bench.

“It’s true…”

He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. Choso was shy as if he wasn’t fucking you 20 minutes ago. And honestly, it was hot. Nothing was more attractive than a guy intimidated by the girl he liked. You loved his complexity, his introverted distant nature who could becoming gentle, shy and even rough.

“So…”

He pulled out his phone and tilted his head towards you.

“Yeah?”

You smiled at him, holding the blunt between your fingers.

“Can I have your number?” his eyes lingered on your lips. “And... are you free this summer?”

You gave him what he wanted and raised your eyebrow. You thought he would ask you out on weekends, but not on a specific period of time.

“It depends, why?”

He looked away for a second before responding.

“I bought tickets for the Warped Tour,” he begun, fidgeting his hands, “Yuji chose to spend his summer with Megumi so…”

His voice was hesitant, but his gaze softened when he saw your bright smile. He wasn’t sure he were into rock or even into festivals, so he was reassured.

“Of course!! You need to give me your playlist,” you scrolled on your phone with enthusiasm, and he escaped a light chuckle.

The wind breeze caressed your skin as you laughed and chatted together. He never came to these types of parties before, but now was forever grateful to come to this one.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

#𐙚 writings 𓍢ִ🌸˙#jjk smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo smut #repost bc i was too scared the other time 😔

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nasa · 1 year ago

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A Geminid meteor streaks across the sky as the Soyuz TMA-19M spacecraft is rolled out by train to the launch pad at the Baikonur Cosmodrome on Sunday, Dec. 13, 2015, in Kazakhstan. Credit: NASA/Joel Kowsky

Make a Wish! How to See the Geminid Meteor Shower

Every December, we have a chance to see one of our favorite meteor showers – the Geminids. To help you prepare, we’ve answered some of your most commonly asked questions. Happy viewing, stargazers!

These radar images of near-Earth object 3200 Phaethon were generated by astronomers at the National Science Foundation's Arecibo Observatory on Dec. 17, 2017. Observations of Phaethon were conducted at Arecibo from Dec. 15 through 19, 2017. At time of closest approach on Dec. 16 at 3 p.m. PST (6 p.m. EST, 2300 UTC), the asteroid was about 6.4 million miles (10.3 million kilometers) away, or about 27 times the distance from Earth to the Moon. Credit: Arecibo Observatory/NASA/NSF

What are the Geminids?

The Geminids are caused by debris from a celestial object known as 3200 Phaethon striking Earth’s atmosphere. Phaethon’s origin is the subject of some debate. Some astronomers consider it to be an extinct comet, based on observations showing some small amount of material leaving its surface. Others argue that it has to be an asteroid because of its orbit and its similarity to the main-belt asteroid Pallas.

All meteors appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.” The graphic shows the radiants of 388 meteors with speeds of 35 km/s observed by the NASA Fireball Network in December 2020. All the radiants are in Gemini, which means they belong to the Geminid shower. Credit: NASA

Why are they called the Geminids?

All meteors associated with a shower have similar orbits, and they all appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.”

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2019. Credit: NASA

When is the best time to view them?

The Geminid meteor shower is active for much of December, but the peak will occur during the night of Dec. 13 into the morning of Dec. 14, 2023. Meteor rates in rural areas can be upwards of one per minute this year with minimal moonlight to interfere.

youtube

What do I need to see them?

As with all meteor showers, all you need is a clear sky, darkness, a bit of patience, and perhaps warm outerwear and blankets for this one. You don’t need to look in any particular direction, as meteors can generally be seen all over the sky. If you want to take photographs, check out these helpful tips.

An infographic based on 2019’s meteor camera data for the Geminids. Credit: NASA

Do you have any advice to help me see the Geminids better?

Find the darkest place you can and give your eyes about 30 minutes to adapt to the dark. Avoid looking at your cell phone, as it will disrupt your night vision. Lie flat on your back and look straight up, taking in as much sky as possible.

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2011. Credit: NASA

What will the meteors look like?

According to Bill Cooke, lead for the Meteoroid Environment Office at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, “Most meteors appear to be colorless or white, however the Geminids appear with a greenish hue. They’re pretty meteors!” Depending on the meteor’s chemical composition, the meteor will emit different colors when burned in the Earth’s atmosphere. Oxygen, magnesium, and nickel usually produce green.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#NASA #space #meteors #meteor showers #Geminids #asteroids #comets #science #sky #night #astronomy #astrophotography #YouTube

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 month ago

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Some Weather-related Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Barometer - an instrument for determining the pressure of the atmosphere and hence for assisting in forecasting weather and for determining altitude

Blizzard - a long severe snowstorm; an intensely strong cold wind filled with fine snow

Breezy - swept by breezes (i.e., a light gentle wind)

Chilly - noticeably cold; chilling

Clear - cloudless

Cloudy - overcast with clouds

Cold front - an advancing edge of a cold air mass

Flurry - a gust of wind; a brief light snowfall

Fog - vapor condensed to fine particles of water suspended in the lower atmosphere that differs from cloud only in being near the ground

Forecast - to calculate or predict (some future event or condition) usually as a result of study and analysis of available pertinent data; especially: to predict (weather conditions) on the basis of correlated meteorological

Global warming - an increase in the earth's atmospheric and oceanic temperatures widely predicted to occur due to an increase in the greenhouse effect resulting especially from pollution

Gust - a sudden brief rush of wind

Hail - precipitation in the form of small balls or lumps usually consisting of concentric layers of clear ice and compact snow

Hazy - made dim or cloudy by or as if by fine dust, smoke, or light vapor in the air; obscured by or as if by haze

Heat - to become warm or hot

High-pressure - having or involving a high or comparatively high pressure especially greatly exceeding that of the atmosphere; having a high barometric pressure

Humid - containing or characterized by perceptible moisture especially to the point of being oppressive

Humidity - a moderate degree of wetness especially of the atmosphere

Hurricane - a tropical cyclone with winds of 74 miles (119 kilometers) per hour or greater that is usually accompanied by rain, thunder, and lightning, and that sometimes moves into temperate latitudes

Lightning - the flashing of light produced by a discharge of atmospheric electricity

Muggy - being warm, damp, and close

Overcast - clouded over

Pollution - the action of polluting, especially: the action of making an environment unsuitable or unsafe for use by introducing man-made waste

Pour - to rain hard

Precipitation - something precipitated, such as a deposit on the earth of hail, mist, rain, sleet, or snow

Rain - water falling in drops condensed from vapor in the atmosphere

Shower - a fall of rain of short duration

Smog - a fog made heavier and darker by smoke and chemical fumes

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or send me a link. I would love to read them!

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Air/Wind ⚜ Temperature

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years ago

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Rain Therapy | Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It's a line that you and Bucky just can't seem to break, but it's nothing one of Tony's infamous parties can't fix.

A/N: Another fluffy one for me, which is still something I'm growing used to writing. I'm getting anxious for some angst, so ask me for some and I'll see what I can do!

Warnings: two idiots in love, slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, language, allusions to smutty content, jealous Bucky

Word Count: 7,206

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

The whisper of lightning, the promise of thunder, the answer of rain. The sky darkens and the sun is forgotten, casting a gloomy light on the earth below.

And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, I find it to be a chemical mixture for peace.

“Y/N, Y/N what the hell are you doing out there?”

That illusion of peace shatters, and I let out low groan, keeping my eyes shut as the raindrops fall down on my form outstretched on the pavement.

“I was having a peaceful moment of bliss until someone decided now was an opportune time to bother me,” I call back.

“An opportune time to-” I hear him cut off incredulously, muttering something to himself as heavy, booted feet slosh through the rain to reach me, “Get off the damn driveway, doll. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth,” I respond, staying pleasantly where I lay right in front of the Avengers Compound.

“Myth my ass, now get up and inside before I throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”

I click my tongue, not having to open my eyes to know my best friend is standing right beside me, “So much violence, so much language. You should join me, some inner peace would do you good.”

Thunder cracks above, rumbling through the earth and into my bones. Even though I don’t hear his steps moving away, Bucky goes silent beside me. I begin to think he’s taking me up on my offer of a little rain therapy.

“See,” I sigh into the cacophony of nature, “Isn’t that peaceful? Maybe-”

I don’t even have time to react when a pair of strong arms, one of them freezing cold due to the metal in the rain, grab my waist and lift me clear off the floor. My eyes snap open with a jolt as I see myself being thrown over Bucky’s shoulder just like he promised.

“What the-” I stop myself as he secures me with his arm dangerously near my ass and slap his broad, muscular back, “You little bitch!”

“A little bitch who’s gonna keep you from getting a cold,” Bucky responds, and I can hear the smugness in his tone from back here, “Is the rain still peaceful?”

“No, there’s a jackass who got in the way.”

I feel his body rumble with laughter, feel the noise pass through my body and make my heart tumble in its cage. With that, his arm edging near a zone that’s clearly more than friends, and the sight of his wet t-shirt stuck to his back, I feel the anger flood from my body. Instead, I find myself thinking about what his abs look like with his rain-soaked shirt pressed against them.

Damn it, I’ve really got it bad.

I try my hardest to shove the image from my mind, but it only sticks harder and makes the spot where Bucky’s hand rests burn. I notice his metal hand on the other side, rain dripping off of it, and I can’t help but let my mind trace to-

I halt my thinking abruptly. He’s your best friend, he’s your best friend, he’s your best friend.

He’s my unfairly hot, broody, and annoyingly heart-fluttering best friend

With his free hand, Bucky shoves open the front doors to the Avenger’s Compound, walking a few steps until we enter one of the large, high-ceiling living areas where a television blasts a movie.

“I told you,” Tony announces after the group of my friends and teammates sees Bucky walking in with me on his shoulder, “Sam, you owe me five bucks.”

“Put me down, terminator,” I grunt, to which Bucky finally sets me on my feet.

Immediately I go to hit him, but the sudden change in my body’s gravity sends me off balance slightly. I stumble back slightly, trying to make the blood rush from my head so I can balance again.

“Woah, careful there, Bambi,” Bucky laughs, gripping onto my waist to help steady me.

Where his hands touch, metal and skin alike, my skin sets on fire. The radiating electricity from his touch only annoys me further and I shove out of his hands, swatting his chest.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and holding a finger in his face like a scolding parent, “Next time you manhandle me, I’m going to remove your arm like Ayo showed me.”

Bucky smirks at me coolly and says something, but I miss it because my eyes drop down to where his t-shirt sticks to his abs from the rain. Just like I imagined it would, it makes my mouth go dry and my heartbeat miss a step.

“See something you like?” Bucky taunts.

Cheeks flushed, I look up at him calmly and smile, “Just thinking about what a shame a body like that is wasted on the grumpiest man alive.”

The group of Avengers lounging around the various chairs and couches in the living room snicker, their attention drawn from the television. He lifts an eyebrow at me and those infuriating steel blue eyes ricochet my pulse.

“Sure you were.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, turning and looking at team, “Who bet against me?”

Tony, Bruce, Wanda, and Nat lifts their hands and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest in feigned hurt.

“Traitors,” I grumble, not being able to stop the smile that wants to twitch onto my lips as Bucky walks up beside me and rests his arm on my shoulder.

“They bet right, didn’t they?”

I look up at him with the half-smile I wasn’t able to stop, “Screw you,”

I turn around and leave the living room, making my way towards my room so I can shower and change. From behind me, I hear Bucky’s laugh that sears itself into my memory.

“Love you too, doll!” He calls out, and my heart launches into my throat.

He doesn’t mean it like I want him to, not like how I mean it. Not like how I've meant it for months.

As I finally get to the confines of my bedroom, I shut to the door and let out a trembling breath. I keep my back pressed to the door for a moment, leaning my head against it and forcing myself to forget the way his hands felt, to strike from my memory the beauty of his laugh. When I finally peel off my wet clothes and step into a scalding hot shower, I let the water and steam surround me long after I'm already clean.

I'm a coward, a coward and a fool for falling for my best friend and not being able to say a word to him about it.

Long after I'm out of the shower and cuddled up with a book on my bed, a knock sounds on my door. I've barely glanced up at it in confusion when Natasha's voice calls out, "I know you're probably reading a book but put it down and let me in unless you want me to break down the door."

A half-smile tugs onto my lips and I set my book aside, untangling myself from my covers and opening the door for my friend. She gives me a smug smile and waltzes in, plopping down on my bed. I can't help but shake my head at her as she makes herself at home.

"Why are all of my friends so violent?" I taunt, sitting down next to her.

"Most of us are trained assassins." Nat gives me a playful nudge, already lifting my spirits from the gloom and doom they were resting in. Her knowing gaze immediately notifies me that I can't escape the conversation to come, so I don't even bother to skirt around it.

"Why does my life suck?" I groan, dropping down onto my back dramatically. Nat laughs beside me, shaking her head down at me.

"So many questions tonight," She remarks, following the words with a tired sigh and laying down beside me. As we both stare up at my ceiling, my mind is held captive by one person. Both it and my heart have been held hostage and I'm starting to understand the truth in Stockholm Syndrome.

"You know, and brace yourself because this is gonna blow your mind, you could just tell him how you feel," Nat advises.

"And risk ruining everything that we already have?" I reply, my brows creased in an ever-present state of worry, "I could live with being friends with him forever as long as it meant I still had him in my life. But if I tell him how I feel and it changes everything to the point where he can't even be around me?"

I take a charged pause, startled by the sudden rise of emotion. I swallow down the burning pain, but ultimately I decide to go easy on my breaking heart. The poor thing doesn't know any better. All it knows is that it wants Bucky Barnes and I keep locking it and its desires into a cage of bones in my chest.

"A life without him...I couldn't live like that."

Nat sits up beside me, catching my attention in time to see the sympathy flashing across her features, "Y/N, I know it's scary but if you'd just trust me I think the outcome would surprise you."

She can tell that I'm still not convinced, so in a last ditch effort to rally me from my slumber of inaction, she reaches across me and grabs the book I was reading. I sit up, a protest just starting on my tongue as I reach for it. She pulls it out of my reach and holds it in front of her chest, displaying the cover for me to see.

"Do any of the characters in these books ever fare well from denying their passions?" Nat asks, and I find that she has me in a figurative corner, "Do their stories end well when they decide, 'Nah, I'm too scared to tell him I love him'?"

"I don't love him," I protest, but the lie is sour on my tongue and allergic to my soul. It gets rejected so quickly by everything within me that I almost think I'll have a physical reaction to it.

"Bullshit." Nat challenges, setting the book aside and grabbing my hands. I shake my head, trying to escape her arguments that my heart jumps in agreement with.

It's a brutal thing, to have your heart yearn for one thing and your mind so resolutely against it. I've always thought it strange how the dichotomy of desires could root in a person, but it makes sense in a way. The heart is led by our passions, our intuitive cravings. The mind is hardwired by nature and instinct to protect us, to propel our survivals.

Even if that means our passions must be slaughtered.

I'm keeping my mind in charge by sheer will that's hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff. My will only has a few fingers left to hold with, and I can feel it slipping every day Bucky's near me, every time his skin brushes mine, every time he simply is.

“I need to move on,” I almost desperately announce, gripping handfuls of my sweatshirt to keep from crying, “I need a way to move or this is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.”

Sympathetic to my distress, Natasha lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “You know, with Tony’s Semi-Annual Charity Gala coming up this weekend it’s the perfect time to move on.”

I perk up slightly, the thought breaking a sliver of hope in the pit of despair and self-pity I allow to well up. For an Avenger, I sure know how to wallow in pain.

“…or make a move on a certain super soldier.” Nat continues.

“Don’t be silly, I’d never steal Steve away from you,” I jest, my tone wavering but stronger than before. Nat rolls her eyes from beside me before shoving my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally meet my friend’s gaze, “One last chance. One chance and then I’m putting myself out of my misery”

That’s so easily said. The unspoken truth is that my poor heart doesn’t stand a chance. It hasn’t for a long time.

“Great!” Nat smiles, squeezing me into a side hug on the bed, “I’ll start planning your outfit now!”

And with that, she’s off my bed and into my closet. As we spend the better part of the night deciding on what to wear to the upcoming gala, I can’t help but let my mind stray to its usual focus. With a groan of exhaustion, I drop my head into my hands and tell myself that same lie.

“He’s my best friend. That’s all.”

It’s getting harder and harder to believe.

|||

A few days later

It's been a few days since the rain incident, and I've finally managed to garner a moment alone from everyone. It's not that I don't love being around them, but it taxes me more than I care to admit to be around him.

A forlorn sigh brushes past my lips, but as I nestle down on the floor in the library Tony had put into the Compound, I find my worries drifting away. Instead, they're replaced with the story in the pages, rapturing my attention and distracting my mind.

That is, until the door opens and I feel his presence before I see or hear him.

"There you are, doll. I've been looking for you all day," Bucky calls, his deep, smooth voice cascading into my very soul. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to not let it show on my face how jarring it was to be snapped from the book to the person I've been trying to avoid.

"You've been looking for me?" I ask, managing to make my voice seem calm and pleasant. He approaches where I'm sitting on the floor, a breath-stealing smile tugging at his lips.

"Course I have, I haven't seen you in days," He replies, his face the picture of relaxed calm, drawing a fierce dichotomy to the barely-veiled confliction on my own. Bucky takes a moment, surveying me sitting on the floor amidst all of the chairs and couches available. He lifts an amused brow at me.

"Why are you on the floor?"

I can't stop myself from smiling up at him and all control I had in keeping myself away from him disintegrates, "It's more comfortable to me. Are you judging me Barnes?"

His laugh bursts light into the depths of me, and as I watch his face relax I can't help but look on in awe at how far he's come. When he first joined the team, he was withdrawn and quiet and even grumpier than he is now. He never smiled, never laughed, and barely spoke. Now, of course he's adorably grumpy most of the time, but he smiles and laughs. He enjoys life, and he more than anyone else in this world deserves to enjoy life.

"What're you reading?" Bucky asks, and I try to ignore the way my pulse rockets up when he settles down beside me on the floor.

He stretches out his long legs, keeping the one furthest from me bent and resting his arm on top it. His other leg is stretched out and nearly touching my own. To help balance his weight, he settles the hand closest to me, his metal hand, onto a spot on the floor behind my back. The position makes his chest brush against my shoulder ever so slightly and all I can feel is the burning of his presence and the searing of his gaze.

"Just some fantasy book," I reply, not wanting to bore him.

I look over at him to see his eyes already on my face, his own radiating a serene peace. He furrows his brows at my prolonged examination of his features and the ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just," My mouth has gone dry again, and I can't seem to clear the haze on my mind, "You look at peace."

"Well someone pretty incredible suggested rain therapy, which works like a charm for my grumpiness."

A laugh bubbles out of me, only widening the smile on his face. I find myself subconsciously leaning into his presence and bringing our faces closer.

"Seriously," Bucky continues, making me realize our proximity and pull back to a normal distance, "I'm always at peace around you."

My heart doesn't just miss a step, it stumbles and falls and nearly gives out in my chest. His words affect every part of me and it's a feat of pure resilience that I don't reach over and press my lips to his.

"Unless you're doing something stupid and testing my nerves," He adds on, lightening the air and making me giggle. He nods towards the almost forgotten book in my hands.

"You were going to tell me about your new read," Bucky reminds, and I smile.

I spend the next ten minutes detailing what's happening in the book, my excitement about it taking over and making me ramble on without barely taking any breaths. I occasionally look between the book and Bucky, sometimes gesturing with my hands to establish my enthusiasm.

Even when I'm not looking at him, Bucky's gaze never leaves my face.

So much for giving myself space to try and move on from him. That thought is far from my mind, though. The longer I’m near him, the closer he is, the harder it is to remember to forget him. And now, with Tony’s Gala tomorrow night, I don’t know how I’m going to move on.

Maybe I really can give this one last shot. It could break me if it goes wrong, but I have a feeling I’ll break a little regardless.

|||

The next night

Not even the pounding of the music and the chatter and clatter of hundreds of guests can drown out my racing mind.

“Stop tugging at your dress, you look great,” Natasha chides from beside me.

With a huff of anxiety, I heed her words and stop fiddling with the snug material of the one-sleeved dress. It hugs my curves down to my waist before draping elegantly to the floor, broken only by the high slit up the thigh.

“I know,” I reply, downing my second drink of the night and setting down the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with a brief smile, “I just haven’t seen him yet. He’s coming right? Tony told us all to be here, so he wouldn’t just-”

“Why does there have to be so many people here?”

My words die out at the distant but unmissable rumble of words behind me. I turn around, and my entire world seems to focus on the epicenter that is Bucky Barnes as he walks in beside Sam Wilson.

“It’s a party man, I thought you loved parties back in the day,” Sam replies, smiling at a few people as he walks in.

“Yeah well I don’t like people like I did then,” Bucky grumbles back, messing with the edges of his all-black suit that is tailored so perfectly that it hones every inch of his body.

His broad shoulders, his muscular form, his piercing blue eyes in a fierce dichotomy with the darkness of the getup…I almost trip in my heels.

“You don’t like any people? That breaks my heart, Barnes,” I manage out coolly, walking up to the pair with a half-smile tugging on my lips and my heart dancing with the butterflies within.

Bucky’s gaze turns from the party goers to where I walk up to them, and a part of me melts at the way a light filters into his features. His dashing smile makes my own grow before I can stop it. The way he simply stops for a moment and stares at me, as if the throngs of people around us don’t exist…

It’s more than an effort to shove my poor heart into its shackles.

“I guess you’re an exception, doll,” He amends, and Sam rolls his eyes beside Bucky as they stop before me.

“It’s not like I’m right here,” Sam announces, making me giggle slightly and look to him.

“Hey Sam, good to see you,” I greet, walking over and hugging the man. He hugs me back, smiling brightly.

“Good to see you too,” Sam responds, his eyes catching on something over my shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are some fans who need me.”

I laugh as I watch him walk over and greet a group of women by the bar. When I turn back to Bucky, I shove down my nerves and shake my head as I pull him into a hug.

“You look incredible, Buck,” I announce, trying to ignore the rightness of his body against mine as he pulls me into a hug that lasts a moment more than I should have let it.

“Y/N,” he deadpans, pulling back but leaving his arms on my waist to admire me. His eyes sparkle with something akin to awe that makes hope rise in my chest, “You put me and everyone else in this room to shame.”

“You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror,” I remark, desperately trying to not show all over my face how beautiful he is.

Bucky just smiles. He looks at me and he smiles and I am undone.

My eyes catch on Natasha over Bucky’s shoulder as she mingles in the background of the party. When our gazes meet she gestures to Bucky with a hand, mounting the words ‘Come on’ as she does. Nodding back to her, I remember the conversation we had a few days ago and right before we joined the gala. I have to be bold and make a move, take a chance before I lose the ability to do so.

“So,” I turn back to Bucky, smiling knowingly up at him, “How’re you doing with the whole party thing?”

Bucky takes in a breath, nodding his head slightly as he surveys the party scene around us. Drinks are flowing, laughs rising, and music is permeating through every sector of the Avengers Compound. The floor shakes with the base and the clattering of shoes as he looks back to me, “Oh you know, just fantastic.”

“Is that so?” I taunt, almost laughing at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. He shoots me a grumpy glare that finally unleashes my laugh. At the sound, Bucky’s features soften and a smile touches his lips. I notice this and furrow my brows up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, just holding that’s soft smile in his eyes that makes me almost forget the track of the conversation. When I snap myself from my daze, I gasp.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, holding my clutch up and opening it to find what I stashed earlier, “I know how you are with parties like this and all so I thought that this might help make it a better memory.”

“You got me a gift?” Bucky asks, shaking his head at me with furrowed brows, “You should have told me, I would’ve gotten you something too!”

I shake my head, finally finding what I’m looking for and glancing up at Bucky, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

With a bright smile to cover my pounding, anxious heart, I hold out the small book in my hands. Bucky glances down at the gift I hold out, and I watch his body go still. Anticipation dances in my belly as he ever so gently reaches out and takes the old, fading The Hobbit novel into his hands.

“It’s a first edition, don’t ask me how I found it,” I inform, playing with the fabric of my dress to give my now empty hands something to do, “I know how much you loved it and now when you’re watching me read in the library, you can read too.”

My words ring out between us, and yet Bucky barely moves. Just when I’m beginning to grow nervous, my heart melts into a puddle in my chest when he lifts his steel-eyed gaze to me. I’ve never seen him cry before, but here and now I can see the lining of unshed tears in his gaze.

“Buck-"

He closes the distance between us, pulling me so close to him that there’s no room for separation. I melt into the hug, becoming nothing more than an extension of his body. There’s no him. There’s no me. There’s only us as we’re suspended in time, caught in this moment.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles, not moving back an inch and letting his voice cascade over my neck and down my spine, “You don’t know what this means to me.”

Reluctantly, I pull back. Every part of me shouts in protest, but I know we have to separate as some point. I give him a soft smile, trying to ignore the noose that’s slowly tightening around my heart. I’m a goner. I have no chance of recovery.

“Don’t mention it,”

Bucky stares at me for another moment, the charged silence soon taking on an anticipated feel. We’re both waiting for the other to make the first move, I can sense it. I see Nat nudge me from afar again and decide to finally muster up my courage and stop waiting. I notice Bucky shakes his head at something, mumbling something to himself, but I press on.

“Hey, do you wanna da-”

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Bucky bursts out at almost the same instant, making me cut off my sentence quickly.

A drink? He’s going to get a drink right now, as soon as I was about to ask him to dance? I know he didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still stings like one.

“Oh, uh yeah sure. That’s-”

Before I can even finish speaking, Bucky has darted away desperately towards the bar at the North side of the room near Sam. I stand dumbfounded, my heart slowly sinking. This is going to be much harder than I thought.

|||

It's been nearly an hour and a half and Bucky is still managing to be everywhere that I am not.

I can take a hint. Even if that hint shatters my soul a little.

As I watch the super soldier mingle with some of the guests, a polite and slightly annoyed smile on his face, I feel something snap within my chest. Here I am, lounging pathetically at the bar all alone, and there he is, my best friend who I can't seem to fall out of love with. His strong jaw and steel eyes don't dare to turn in my direction, and I feel my fracturing soul crack even more.

I have to let it go. I have to let it go. I have to let him go.

With a long sigh, I pick up the drink before me and down its contents, letting the burn soothe away the edge of the crawling pain in my chest. Once the glass is slammed back down on the bar counter, I steel my nerves and stand.

It's time I stop feeling sorry for myself and move on.

My eyes scan the thick crowd scattered throughout every inch of Tony's gala. Music radiates through every molecule of air, and just one glance at the dance floor has my feet moving before my brain is. As I walk over to the dance floor, I see a random guy standing with a few others. He's cute enough with a charming smile, so I grab his arm as I walk past, making him glance over at me. I flash him my best smile and tug him towards the dance floor.

"Dance with me?" I ask boldly, and his smile widens.

"I'd be honored," He replies, letting me pull him onto the dance floor.

I should let myself be whisked away into the music and the movements and the feel of his hands on my hips as we dance. I should let the base and the crowd and the charming man before me wipe away every thought, but I just...can't. All I can think about when his hands slide gently on my waist is how different it feels when those hands are Bucky's. My heart is crushing slowly, and so I do everything I can to forget it.

It's actually beginning to work until the music abruptly cuts out.

Groans and boo's arise from the crowd with me on the dance floor as we all look around, trying to figure out why the music's stopped. "That's so weird," The nice guy I'm dancing with mumbles. I mention my agreement, my eyes sweeping the edges of the party before I catch a glint of dark metal. My eyes fly back to the metal only to see Bucky storming away from the sound booth, his metal fist clenched so hard that I'm surprised it doesn't malfunction. In his metal grasp is a hunk of wires, and my stomach drops.

He did not.

"Don't worry folks! I'll have the music back up in no time," Tony announces, flashing his winning smile to the crowd as he jogs to the sound booth, "There was a slight malfunction"

I see him shoot Bucky a glare, but true to his words the music is back up in a matter of minutes. I feel anger begin to make my blood boil and I pull away from the guy I was dancing with. I see a frown pull onto his face as he lets me go but follows me a few steps.

"Are you okay?" He calls after me, and my heart twists in sympathy. I must look absolutely furious and he probably thinks it's pointed at him. So, I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm alright, thanks for the dance. I needed it," I comment, before turning and continuing my beeline for the brooding super soldier in the corner. He's standing with Sam, muttering something that I can't hear as I finally break through the crowd and walk up to them.

"Here we go," Sam mumbles, slowly backing away as I come to a stop in front of Bucky.

"What the hell, James?" I grit out.

"Oh she used the first name," Sam comments, his eyes widening, "I'm going to go check on Steve."

Then he leaves, and it's just Bucky and I. Bucky just shrugs, not meeting my furious gaze.

"I don't know what you're so mad about but-"

"Oh really? So you didn't just rip out the sound system?" I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest. He finally turns and meets my gaze, and damn it all I can't stop the swooning of my heart at the dark, rugged look on his face.

I'm angry, I remind myself. I'm angry with him.

"What does that have to do with you, sweetheart?"

I scoff, shaking my head at him, "You are unbelievable! I was finally starting to have a good night and-"

"Dancing with that handsy prick makes your night a good night then?" He interrupts, and I have to fight to keep the smug look off of my face at catching him.

"What were you saying about this having nothing to do with me?" I fire back, lifting an eyebrow. Bucky clenches his jaw and takes a step closer to me, probably expecting me to back off. I don't. Instead, I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, trying and failing to seem taller than him.

"I don't like you dancing with other men like that," Bucky informs, his voice dark. He's so close to me that his whiskey and pine scent invades my senses, threatening to empty my head of the argument at hand.

"I can dance with whoever the hell I want, Barnes. And since certain people made it very clear they didn't want to dance with me, then certain people should have no say in who I dance with"

"I don't dance, Y/N." His eyes are cool fire and they sear right through me. Even in this heated argument, all I can seem to think about is how badly I want him, body and soul. My thoughts are banished when he spits his next words out, "Not with you, not with anyone."

It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. So why do I have to fight to keep the hurt off of my face?

Just like that, the fire in my argument is gone. I nod, taking a few steps back, "Okay, that's all you had to say."

And then I turn around and leave before he can see the tears welling in my gaze.

I force myself into the crowd, making sure I move quickly and weave myself between those around me to get away as fast as possible. Then, with my heart in my throat, I finally make it to the outskirts of the party where a glass sliding door leads out into a training field. Through the glass, I can see rain pouring down into the dark, almost moonless night.

Seeing it unravels a bit of the pain within my chest, and I don't even think as I slip off my heels and walk outside. I shut the door behind me, muting the sounds of the party and leaving the downpour of rain and the distant rumble of thunder to take over my senses. I set my heels down carefully and walk out into the field, barely jumping when the cool, refreshing droplets begin to pound into my skin. It's not long before I'm soaked and my entire outfit is ruined. I don't mind, though. I'm not planning on going back there anyways.

I sit down in the grass, not even minding how it dirties my dress, and hug my knees close. When I slip my eyes shut, I'm reminded why I love the rain so much.

In moments like this, I can't distinguish my tears from the rain

I don't know how long I sit like this, my eyes shut and the rain drenching me. Eventually, my body stops shaking from the sobs that have now subsided and any evidence of my breakdown has been washed away. I'm almost at peace when I hear that voice, that stupid, addicting voice, ring out behind me through the storm.

"I'd say you'll catch a cold, but I don't think you'd care much"

I swallow hard, cursing my heart for the way it jumps. I open my eyes, but keep my gaze firmly forward across the training field.

"Especially since it's coming from you," I add on, grateful for the lack of tremor in my words.

"I guess I deserved that one," Bucky concedes softly, his voice getting closer. My body begins to shiver with the anticipation of him being close, the response purely visceral and out of my control. I just hope he thinks it's from the rain.

"You think?" I scoff lightly, not having the strength to be angry anymore.

It's silent for a long while, and I almost begin to think that he's left and gone back inside. I'm proven otherwise when I see Bucky walk out from behind me, standing right in front of where I sit with my knees drawn to my chest. Against my better judgement, I look up.

And there he is, drenched like I am and an unreadable look upon his stupidly handsome face.

"Bucky-"

He extends out his human hand, and my words die, "Dance with me."

Every part of my heart beams, and it’s an effort to keep the fluttering of my heart out of my body language. I pause for a moment, almost as if to give him time to retract his hand. When he doesn’t, I hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” I whisper. His half-smile grows as he looks down at me with what almost looks like…adoration.

“I don’t,” Bucky confirms, his voice like sugar and pine, “But for you I’d do anything”

I can’t even try to hide the visceral effect his words have on me. With a thousand butterflies batting in my stomach and my heart beating viscously out of rhythm, I allow a small smile to grow on my lips. A new excitement in my chest, I reach up and slip my hand into his large, rough one calloused with work and time. It fits mine perfectly, as always, and his touch muddles my senses and wakes me up all at once, as always.

As he helps me stand, the rain still pouring down on us, he tugs me close to him so suddenly that I stumble right into his chest. A small laugh escapes my lips as I catch myself on his broad chest. Bucky’s so close, so warm, so intoxicating to me that every fiber of my being yearns for his proximity. I’m nothing but a firing hum of nerves and sparks being this close to him, with a hand on his chest and his arm secured around my waist.

And we dance.

There’s no music, there’s no reason. We just dance. Bucky’s magnificent at it, every step dripping in ease and cool confidence that only makes me love him more. I’m so caught in the moment that every thought of a reciprocated or unrequited love has been banished from my mind. All that exists is here and now, underneath the downpour of the heavens with the cacophony of nature as our song.

He twirls me around, making water splash up and a giggle bubble out of me when I slip and fall directly into him. His body rumbles with low laughter when he catches me stopping my fall. Bucky doesn’t even have to say a word for me to know he’s making fun of me, so I slap his chest with a huff of laughter.

“What?” Bucky’s amused voice is the harmony to the melody of the rain.

“I can feel your judgement from here,” I point out, but before I can raise my lightened gaze to meet his on my own, a metal hand hooks under my chin and gently turns my face up until our eyes clash.

Suddenly, I’m not so humored anymore.

Neither is he, I can tell. The air is different—still light with joy but now corded with something deep, rich, and intangible. His piercing blue eyes seem to be burdened with a million different thoughts, but I can barely bring myself to breathe let alone ask him what is going through his beautiful mind.

Bucky doesn’t say a single word, though. He doesn’t have to. My eyes glance down to his lips for no more than one half of a second, and by the time I’ve returned my gaze to his, he’s closing to distance between us and connecting his lips to mine.

I’ve never understood what is so special about kissing in the rain. I get it now. There’s something so dichotomously beautiful in this moment, in the cold, relentless rain and the desperate, burning heat of Bucky’s lips moving against my own.

Again, no words are needed for us both to understand. This kiss is everything that has been bottling up over our friendship. It’s every quiet moment in the library and loud moment in our arguments. As his hands tug me closer and ignite my skin as if it were burning clean off, as his lips and tongue move with mine, every thought and worry and tear-filled, longing night washes away. The very thought makes me sigh into the kiss, and finally we break apart only for the need for air.

Bucky doesn’t let me pull away an inch.

His arms keep my locked close, his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath. He nudged my nose with his before pulling away only enough to meet my gaze. One hand of his cradles my jaw, his thumb running lazy circles on my cheek.

“Does this mean you like me?” I whisper, a humored glint already lighting my gaze. Bucky laughs roughly, his voice sending shivers down my spine that don't go unnoticed. Rather, the other hand he keeps on my waist lifts to absently trace the path of the shiver, almost making my knees go weak.

“I more than like you,” Bucky quips, a content smile taking over his features. My heart misses a step and I don’t dare to dream.

“You really like me?” I taunt, and another heart-warming laugh pours from those perfect lips.

“You’re gonna make me say it, doll?”

I swallow thickly, my eyes not leaving his. I don’t dare to say another word, leaving the challenge up to him. Bucky sighs, moving the hand he keeps on my spine to cradle the other side of my face, now cupping it in his full grasp. He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back enough to where his lips still graze mine as he speaks.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have. Always will.”

My knees nearly go weak, and suddenly I'm so very grateful for the rain's ability to hide what is a drop and what is a tear. I'd never hear the end of it from him if he knew that's what his confession brought me to. When one of thumbs catches a stray tear, though, I know he's fully aware.

"I love you too, Buck."

Bucky smirks before me, bringing his mouth close to my ear and sending another shiver racing down my spine, "I figured that much out, sweetheart"

"Oh whatever!" I announce, hitting his shoulder but leaning in closer to his mouth that now trails from my jaw back to my lips. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips before holding me close to his chest and looking up into the sky that downpours upon us.

"Rain therapy, I guess it really does work," Bucky remarks.

"I would say I told you so, but-" I'm cut off by Bucky suddenly grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Bucky calls up to me, spinning me slightly and only making me giggle louder.

"Bucky, I'm in a dress!" I protest. He slaps my ass smugly and begins to walk with me still over his shoulder back to the compound.

"I know, let's get you out of that"

As my laugh tumbles out of my mouth, it twirls and dances and gets lost with the pounding of the rain and the rolling of the thunder. Once again, I'm in the debt of the rain, and I can't help but smile at it gratefully as my best friend and the love of my life walks triumphantly with me over his shoulder into the midst of Tony's nice party. Neither of us care about the looks we receive, though. Neither of us even notices.

All we see is the rain and each other.

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #angst #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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thatonebirdwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Alone

Lena scoured through the supply cabinet, desperate for anything to aid her current predicament. She floated horizontally in the confines of quadrant C-2, a rope around her waist and attached to the hook on the wall. She'd learned the hard way that unless she secured herself, the slow roll of the space station kept disrupting her search, sending her slowly spinning away from where she wanted to be.

It had been a week stranded here with an increasingly dangerous station. Her food supplies were low, and she still couldn't find any useful chemical in which to derive fuel for her thrusters, to hopefully reach the Chinese station once its orbit aligned.

Tremors and fires have slowly eaten its way through the communication sector, and it was only matter of time before it reached the reactor. Then survival would be near impossible.

Lena pushed aside vials and ignored the whisper of grief that haunted her since Jack's death. Part of her feared she would soon join him in death.

And what of Kara Danvers? Her girlfriend, or maybe no longer girlfriend, since their fight burned in the backdrop of Lena's thoughts. She'd signed up for this repair mission to avoid the situation, and now here she was.

All it had taken was one near-miss of a small asteroid, which set off a chain reaction, destroying their shuttle, Quadrant B-1 of the station, and cutting Lena off from the communication sector in Quadrant A-2.

Their fight felt ridiculous now, and she wished more than anything to see Kara again. To not be trapped here alone.

A few days ago, she'd managed to rig a HAM radio. Starting with NASA's frequency, she'd sent the message, "Commander Lena Kieran Luthor requesting aid. I am trapped on the space station in a decaying orbit." There'd been no response. Her next try started in the amateur radio bands. She tried for the eighty meters band, a higher frequency one, in hopes it would nab a contact. A lot of amateur's reported preferring this band, but she couldn't be certain how far it'd propagate, especially if there was ionization in the atmosphere to muck the signal. Again she repeated her message and again had no response.

Next she tried the forty meters high frequency band. She closed her eyes, one hand pressed against the side of her headphones, and listened first.

Someone was speaking on this band, but she didn't recognize the language. She decided to attempt anyway and repeated her message in English, Spanish, and Portuguese. The most likely languages for anyone listening in ITU region two.

The response had been excitement and a slew of words she still couldn't understand.

"I'm sorry," she said, frustrated, "I don't know your language. Please, if you understand me, can you alert someone I need rescuing? I'm trapped on a decaying orbit on the US and European Consortium Space Station D."

The reply baffled her as the person had switched to a different language. One that sounded similar to Spanish, but she still couldn't make out most of the words. She'd given up at that point.

So who knew if that person understood her and relayed the message. Most bands got her no other interactions, but she'd broadcasted on them just in case.

She kept the HAM radio running, but to no avail.

With her supplies dwindling, she scavenged what she could in her space suit from the ruined quadrants. Most of it was sheets of metal she welded to block off ruined sectors and to fix the air leakage.

Other materials helped her construct her radio, and still others gave her a way to rebuild suit thrusters. Her suit sat only a few feet away, clipped to the wall, and the pack on its back had started to look like some sort of Frankenstein monstrosity.

If her calculations were correct, the space station had dropped in its orbit. The closer it came to earth, the more likely she'd burn up with it as it crashed down.

Also per her calculations, the Chinese space station hung in a slightly higher orbit and would soon pass close enough for her to bridge the gap. Whether anyone still lived on it, she had no idea. But it likely had salvageable escape pods.

If she could find enough fuel for her suit's thrusters.

She wiped away sweat from the increasingly warm quarters. The cabinet held an assortment of chemicals. Most useless for her needs, but near the back, she found formic acid.

"Yes," she grinned, "finally!"

One of the few facilities still functioning on this dying station was the chemical equipment, and it should stock some platinum. Exposure to platinum breaks formic acid into hydrogen and carbon dioxide. It's the hydrogen she needs for fuel.

Lena tucked the acid into a protective pouch in her suit. She unhooked herself, slid into her suit, and tied her helmet to her belt.

With a push, she floated through the corridor. She increased her momentum with a gentle push off various protrusions, some of them made specifically for traversal, but others broken pipes or an analyzer station. Most of the computers in the station failed to work, the power grid close to failing with two solar wings lost to the chain reaction.

She had only one solar panel wing left and a prototype reactor, but how long would that last? The reactor already showed signs of failure and radiation leakage.

An intersection loomed ahead, and she shifted her angle to take a tight turn to the right. A tremor shook the station, and another warning light glared red along the corridor. She was far too close to the damaged sections, but she had no other choice.

She needed to break down the formic acid, otherwise she'd never make the leap to the Chinese station.

The corridor opened into a large module, where half a dozen chemistry stations hugged the walls. The cold atom lab control panel was still functional, but although useful for crafting Bose-Einstein condensates for gyroscopes, it was useless for her current task. Next to it sat a larger set-up, specifically for breaking down materials.

She slid off her suit gloves, clipped them to her belt, and flipped open its lid. She set the acid in the middle, clamped it in place, and fit the tubes. Shutting the lid, she slid her hands into the enclosure's gloves.

Another tremor shook the station, but Lena ignored the increasingly loud warning alerts. Each movement calculated and careful, she extracted the hydrogen she needed and filled the empty fuel cell.

An explosion rocked the station further down the corridor, and a safety door slammed down at the end of the hallway.

"Shit." Lena slid her hands free and extracted the fuel cell. She had less time than she thought.

It took two minutes to install the cell and re-don her gloves and helmet.

Three minutes to push her momentum toward the nearest airlock. Fire bloomed behind her, and smoke filled corridor. Another safety door attempted to drop, but it stuck halfway due to a set of broken pipes.

The next explosion knocked her hard against the wall. Pain blossomed in her side.

"Fuck!" A pipe had cut into her side. She dug into her belt supplies and slapped on a patch to seal the leak. Nothing she could do for her injury. Not until she got off this drowning ship.

The airlock C-4 loomed at the end of the corridor. A jet of flame from a nearby module set off the safety door.

Which would cut her off from freedom. Fuck. She pushed with all her might, her momentum increasingly dangerously. The door shuddered and slid slowly, its mechanics damaged.

She soared under it as it snapped shut with only inches to spare. Smoke filled this module, but she dodged the fires and hit the airlock's controls far too hard. It knocked the breath out of her.

Her vision splintered and the pain in her side burned.

The electronic controls failed to respond to her codes. So she grabbed the crank and turned with all her strength. More alerts blared and a red light flashed above her. Another tug and the crank clicked it open.

Air rushed into the chamber. She pushed inside and tried to shut the door, but it stuck against a shattered pipe. Fire licked the air and another shudder threw her against the wall.

Nothing for it. She'd have to risk it all.

She cranked the outer door until it flung open. Air screamed into the void. The earth glared up at her, far too close, and the beautiful sight of its blue, green, and yellow incited a desperation.

Lena wanted to go home. She wanted to stand on the ground again. To drink of the water, to sift through the soil.

And more than anything else, she wanted to find Kara.

To apologize for their fight. To not run again, but repair what they had once.

Tears blurred her vision as she pushed away from the broken station. More explosions shattered yet more of it, and a piece tore away to hurtle toward the earth.

She hit the thrusters and flew toward the trajectory of the Chinese station. Below her, the fires and debris of broken modules ripped into other quadrants, the station's own parts shredding its other sections. The chain reaction sent several spiraling in other orbits, some far too close to her own.

Still she sailed upward, toward her one chance at survival.

Ahead of her, the Chinese station loomed with its six modules, four solar panel wings, and hopefully an escape pod. She was so close. So damn close.

Several debris hurtled past the Chinese station, one ricocheting off a solar panel wing, tearing half of it away. The momentum sent both hurtling into a lower orbit.

Lena dodged the debris, but the finer particulate matter rained onto her suit. Her armor began to degrade, the finer particles ripped into each layer. Her thrusters sputtered.

Her momentum was too fast. She'd bounce right off the damn station if she didn't slow down.

"Puncture in left leg," her suit's systems alerted her. A hiss of air roared in her ears. The oxygen began to drop.

Fear curdled through her. She had no time to seal the break.

"Come on," she whispered. She adjusted her thrusters and attempted to slow her momentum. The station's outer armor held numerous protrusions, but her first attempt had her bouncing off and away.

She hit the thrusters to stop her tumble. Gritting her teeth, she aimed for a ladder and readied her rope hook.

She hit hard, but the hook slipped into space and she tumbled to stop. Her oxygen dropped lower, and she began to feel lightheaded. She pulled herself along the rope. Her glove gripped the rung. Black edged on her periphery of her vision. She pulled herself forward, closer to an airlock.

She flipped on her radio. Her vision faded toward grey. Low oxygen alert beeped. "Commander Lena Kieran Luthor requesting entrance." She struggled to speak it in Chinese, but her thoughts tumbled toward oblivion, her grip on reality slipping.

Her hand touched the crank, but her strength waned. She couldn't turn it. She gasped, the oxygen dropping dangerously. Her vision greyed, her mind blanked, and she struggled to take a breath, to suck in oxygen.

In that moment, she wanted only Kara. Just to see her again before the end.

Darkness overcame her just as a voice popped up in her radio.

"Commander?"

<<...>>

Lena slowly regained awareness. An oxygen mask hugged her face, and she lay, strapped to a bed. Voices spoke a language she knew, but couldn't seem to recall. Her head ached.

A person floated closer. "Lena?"

She blinked and noted the clear blue eyes. Golden hair falls in soft curls around her face. "Kara?" she whispered.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me." Tears stung Kara's eyes. She pressed a hand to Lena's left cheek. "Gosh, Lena, I thought you died."

Lena managed a faint smile. "Too stubborn." Tears blurred her vision The room she's in didn't look like anything from a station. She weakly removed the oxygen mask. "Where am I?"

"Hospital. You're on Earth." Kara settled onto a stool next to her and grasped her hand. "I'm so glad you're alive."

Lena reached up to gently touch Kara's cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've missed you."

Kara leaned into her touch and smiled. "I'm sorry too. Let's focus on your recovery, then we can go home together."

Lena smiled, relief and hope flooding her sore and pain-filled body. "I'd like that."

AO3 link

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #space AU #supercorptober #supercorptober2024 #supercorp fic

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delirium1217 · 7 months ago

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There's no need to hide

Word count: 1009 words James/Regulus. First wizarding war AU (they're both stuck together in the same safe house)

⋆｡°✩˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗⋆｡°✩

“No, this won’t do.” James stands up, “We are not spending today of all days moping.”

“We’re not moping, we’re just talking.” Regulus replies, slightly indignant.

“All we ever talk about are big, sad, mushy feelings.” James dramatically flails his hands around, almost as if shooing the sentiment away.

“Big, mushy, feelings.” Regulus repeats, he tries to sound offended but the tug on his lips says otherwise.

“Well yeah, everyone you know thinks you’re dead, terribly sorry we can’t do anything about that by the way. And me, well, where the fuck do we start, you know?”

Regulus looks back at him, slowly blinking. the sickly yellow lightbulb casting down its shadows.

He doesn’t need to think about that right now.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

The air was filled with the sense of slight delirium. Nothing felt real. Nothing had consequence. James felt like he could run away, sprint off into the fields and pretend the last twenty two years of his life were a lapse of chemicals his mind made up in a haze.

The depression that hung over him all week threatened to spill into hysterical exuberance. But James didn’t care, it’s been so long since he had someone near him, someone that wasn’t decades older than him. Someone that talked to him, not just through him. Someone that didn’t expect him to be something he wasn’t.

He’ll let himself get drunk on whatever endorphins his body, for whatever reason, was dishing out.

He just needs something to fill the noise.

“Look James, maybe we should call it a night-“

“Nonsense! It’s your birthday, we’re staying up. We’re transforming some stale bread into equally stale cake. We’re playing music your obnoxious little self wouldn’t be caught dead listening to, and we’re dancing.”

He taps his wand. The tinny radio spluttered to life. The glittery synths were scratchy and soft. It filled the room instantly.

Regulus looks back horrified, his eyes widened.

He stretches his hand out for Regulus to take.

Regulus stares down at it, then back at James’ face “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“Oh c’mon, I used to do this all the time with Peter.”

“Is that all what you four did all day? dance around with each other?”

“Mostly, amongst other things. The worst of us was Remus, man had two left feet and fingernails like talons.” he fondly remembers the way Remus’ grip dug into his shoulders and ‘Moony, can you for the love of everything try and be less rigid’ while everyone else in the common room cheered them on, well, mostly Sirius.

Regulus snorts, “I should’ve known. And to think of all the time I wondered what on earth you people did.”

“Well, we had to, the marauders couldn’t embarrass themselves in front of the ladies.”

James’ hand was still outstretched. He wiggled his fingers again, “Come on. Can’t you just humor me?”

“You know it’s my birthday, you should be humoring me.” Still, something in his expression softens - he sighs, unfolds his arms, and carefully places his hand into James’ own.

The soft music and layered vocals had filtered throughout the room. The noise of it seemingly amplified in the tiny living room.

James slowly put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder - the unexpected warmth that rushed through him made him pause. He realizes, this was the first time he’s touched another person in months.

(Eight months to be exact, the last time he saw Marlene, drenched in black hoods at an Order meeting. She gave him a full body hug and squeezed all the oxygen out of him.)

Still, he slides his other hand across Regulus’ palm. The song playing was by a muggle band he didn’t recognize - a ditzy little number, all dreamy sounds and far away vocals. The shimmering effect the night held seemed to surge as they swayed.

It was awkward at first, as it always is. Clutching to each other’s shoulders in a frigid way that even Remus would realize was painful. That was until James, in his delirious state of glee started adding twists and turns left and right, loosening both of them up.

Regulus followed his every move, surprisingly fluid and confident in a way his posture never was. They both slowly started to laugh with every unnecessary kick or turn they flourished as they moved across the kitchen floor. This wasn’t a formal dance in any sense of the word, bouncing around like fools across the linoleum tiles.

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. Young, stupid, and full of bravado. Of course, now it was tinged with the haziness of all what’s broken his heart over and over, night after night. But it was still there, a flickering light in the dark. On and off. He silently pleaded with whoever was handling it to not click it off just yet.

“Okay, you have to stop before I start to vomit,” Regulus raises his voice over the bellowing music, a woman singing about hot stuff.

“We’ve both had nothing all day, nice try though!”

“Have you ever seen a cat dry heave?”

James laughs. He slows his tempo down back to a sway.

“Alright, we’re slowing down, only because it’s your birthday. Otherwise we would’ve been spinning off the patio,”

Regulus promptly ignores him. “Wasn’t there a promise of cake during your little speech?”

“Stale cake.” James corrects. “and i can only manage sweetened white bread, with bits of frosting.”

“I’ve had worse meals,” Regulus replies

“I bet you did,” James smiles back.

They come to a stop as the last seconds of the song play, another already fading in.

They both found themselves a few moments later hunched over a piece of incredibly stale, possibly moldy bread. Both throwing every bit of transfiguration spell they had in their arsenal. The result was a dried-out, but surprisingly pretty piece of yellow sponge cake. James had taken bits of milk and transfigured it into real looking icing, which coated the sides in swirls and peaks.

#LARGELY INSPIRED BY lonely dancers by conan gray #this is an outtake of one of my fanfics that i probably won't be using 😭 i've just been going through these scenes that don't fit anywhere #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #delirium writes #fic: a world alone

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waterlilyspad · 24 days ago

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The Horseman's Bride.

Not fandom related, but a short story I made for Halloween, who knows maybe I'll write more. This just kinda hit me out of nowhere.

(TW for violence, mentions of blood and gore, vivid depictions of derealization, panic attacks, near death experiences.)

Out of every moment throughout your life and every single possible slip up, accident, bump in the night, and tiny happenstance you’ve been alright. The time a boy in middle school stuck gum in your hair sure, whatever, that’s fine, the time you thought a van was following you home after work, just for it to be a very confused grandma, whatever. The point being you've never once been confronted with danger, and you were so careful and comfortable with how you lived that you never imagined you’d end up here, feeling everything all at once running through your head the good the bad and the not so bad considering you grew up in a suburb your whole life. The fact is you're running from death itself and there’s no one to save you.

You're running faster than you’ve ever run, almost faster than the man chasing you, well almost as fast if it weren’t for the fact the ground is littered with rocks, exposed roots, and very damp slippery maple leaves. Why horror movie protagonists slip and fall so easily makes so much sense. You also didn’t anticipate being chased down by a serial killer so you neglected to double knot your sneakers before going out today. The laces flopping open with every step. You also didn’t charge your phone for very long, so the advent of calling for help is out of the question by now. It’s agonizingly obvious but, you're going to die tonight.

It is such a disorienting reality, you feel like you're not you, that you're watching yourself from the outside as you run with all your might, you didn’t amount to much, and it’d probably be a few years before anyone finds you. It’s the worst kind of derealization, why was I born to live such an amazing life? With a family that loved me, with friends that picked me up when I was down, to have nice neighbors, a good home, amazing food, music, clothes, a sense of imagination and wonder that ensured you finished both highschool and college without ever losing yourself along the way, you think, why was I born woman.

You curse as you begin to descend a hill scraping your knee along the way down hoping this would throw him off but the killer is still hot on your trail, as if he knows every step and fault of the forest grounds like the back of his hand. If I were born a man maybe I’d still be okay, but I’m not. You think to yourself as you round a few trees dodging and running deeper into the woods your lungs are on fire, breathing is very hard for you, you’re not an athlete but your not entirely unhealthy either, adrenaline is one hell of a chemical response but if you were male maybe you’d stand a fighting chance or maybe this guy wouldn’t have bothered you at all. But none of that matters, the horrible belief remains If you were just running of your own volition you would’ve given up sooner. Your knees begin to shake and wobble, please don’t stop, keep going, you beg in your mind but they don’t listen, and soon enough the perfect mix of everything that could go wrong, goes wrong. You step on your loose shoelace, your leg catches the bridge of an exposed tree root, and your legs aren’t strong enough now to catch yourself, you fall face first into the mud and soot of the earth, picking your head up and trying to get back on your feet is impossible, you’re pretty sure you twisted something, but in the midst of your panic that doesn’t register as you try to pick yourself up, only for your palm to slip on a wet leaf causing you to fall again. He’s coming, you know it, this is it, why was I born to live beautifully, and die horrifically.

Tears of fear and exhaustion are streaming down your face, your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding like it could jump out of your throat at any minute, and yet time continues oddly and unnervingly it continues without a sound. You're sure the killer is just doing this to give you a false sense of hope, he’s keep playing with you. Raising your head to look around the scene, your met with a dense fog that wasn’t there before, but is now heavily coating the forest, you see what looks like a light source skimming the fog, there’s an uneven walk to it, and your eyes light up, it looks like the light from a lantern, someone is out here. “Hello?! Please help me!” You scream you begin to slowly lift yourself up by holding onto the tree behind you, seeing the light coming closer your relief washes over you, but soon the sight itself seems wrong? The light is placed at a weird distance from the ground that wouldn’t otherwise be within a reasonable arm’s length. It’s hovering high above almost like a very tall street lamp, additionally the sounds of footsteps multiply, it’s the unmistakable sound of hooves stomping into the wet ground.

Okay maybe it’s a horse rider? On his horse at night just like you do with no murderous intent, your think, but soon your wishful reasoning leaves you as the person nears closer, the fog draping them as they approach, the light isn’t even something they’re holding, it’s illuminating from their head. You rub your eyes to make sure before fear takes hold again. As the rider approaches your met with the incredible but horrifying sight, a man with a carved pumpkin for a head appears, his horse is larger than life, and as dark as sky, its yellow eyes burning into your very soul, nothing here is right, your breathing picks up almost immediately. The horseman reaches to his side pulling out an axe, a small tree axe. Your survival instincts go wild and your skin is jumping, screaming for you to run, and you do, tearing your eyes from the horseman and feebly trying to run before feeling an arm lock itself around your neck. You choke and scream for dear life as a knife is pressed to your throat.

that is until the wind cuts right behind you, and something warm and wet spatters across your back, you shiver and cry standing completely still your whole body is shaking, your back covered in fresh blood. You slowly turn to look, the man that was chasing you is now lying on the floor, a ghastly black smoke rising out of his exposed neck with his head lying father away from the body on the floor next to you. You let out a scream and cover your mouth as the clacking sound of hooves draws closer to you. You hear a thud as the rider dismounts, your legs feel like jelly, your head buried in your hands as you hunch in fear not wanting to look death in the eyes. Your legs give out entirely you're sure you're going to kneel onto the ground but arms catch you with a quick caution before you're hoisted up slowly with care like someone catching their feeble grandparent.

You lift your heavy head out of your palms as you look up at the pumpkin looking back down at you, there’s a kind of warmth to it, like a campfire, or the feeling you’d get when putting your hands over a lit candle. You stay silent in frozen sublime, the circular opening of the treetops set a void like halo over the creature, you didn’t know it now but the beyond was staring back at you. In a rush of sounds and other ungodly howls, your attention is drawn to the surrounding area as multiple eyes appear. Creatures of all kinds, humanoid and animalistic alike begin to gather round. The rider stands you up slowly as you remain pinned to his chest. There's a sound like nothing you’ve heard before, you can’t understand it but it’s coming from the rider, something beyond you replies with a sickly laugh, another with a groan, and some creatures begin to back away. “What…What’s going on.” You asked quietly as he stared back down at you, his large hand cupping your shaking one, “Audrey May, trust me.” He assures before he kneels with you, your legs finally giving out as you sit on the ground and rest against his front, you look up and around noticing ghastly like apparitions and creatures watching you and the rider with feverish intent.

So many questions are floating in your head now to the point it makes you dizzy, just trying to come up with a clear thought is a herculean task in itself. All of it instantly melts away as your right hand is lifted, you watch as his other free hand lifts a ring to your finger. You're too out of it to react, reserving yourself to staring on in horror and shock, was this thing serious?! You look up at him with a look of pure confusion he responds with a whisper. “Play along.” You're relieved slightly but still uneasy, his large hand slowly lifting the ring to your small finger, it slides on like a glove like it was made for you and you alone. After the deed is done he lifts your hand to his false mouth making a kiss-like motion you realize in that moment the jack o lantern on his head is just that, a gourd and not his actual head as the carvings remain still. “Shall we?” He asks with more volume than before, you nod playing along with this supposedly pretend proposal. His arms link behind and beneath you as you’re hoisted up to him. your arms link around his shoulders and behind his neck as he lifts you up with minimal effort before walking towards the horse.

Your eyes scan the area, there are ghastly figures all smiling, some talking amongst each other laughing with a horrible sound, you look up to the tree to see child-like figures giggling. More and more of them appear to watch the horseman take his claim. You look behind you over his shoulder and see the body of the man who was after you and his head lying in the dirt, his face frozen with terror staring up at you, it makes you uneasy, you look away immediately. The rider lets your legs down and instructs you to hold yourself by the saddle rope as he mounts, once he’s mostly up his arm wraps around your back and in one swift motion hoist’s you up onto the black stallion along with himself. He secures himself on the saddle and makes sure your secure as well, the creatures of the woods growing closer to the sight. The horseman has you lean in close as he grabs hold of the reins, his head turns to the nearing creatures. “Eat and be merry.” He instructs at his word they dash to the body, you close your eyes as the rider yips and the horse marches forward, the crowd making way for the two of you as they focus on their meal.

The horse gains speed as you exit the scene, flying through the woods with the clicking of hooves, the wind flying around you as you begin to breathe more easily, everything in your body hurts and the jumping of the horse’s pace digs into your aching body. You shiver as the cold hits your sweat, against your better judgment you lean into the rider shaking, he’s well aware of this, his right arm letting go of the rein and closing in to hold you to him. The two of you ride into a clearing that looks like an open field. Slowly you feel your chest lighten at the sight of trees opening to a clear. Above the wall of mist and fog a starry night, you look up, your eyes growing heavy as the weight of your entire ordeal washes over you, exhaustion hits once your adrenaline has subsided, so you just stare up at the underside of this strange pumpkin man whatever he is. Maybe you're safe or maybe you're not, but dammit you were going to sleep, you thought to yourself as the cold wind blew the hair from your face, please if you're some evil killer like the last one, please at least let me die while sleeping, would you? You think as your mind washes to black; you fall into a deep sleep.

((Little fun note in folklore Dullahans are the harbingers of death that lead souls to the afterlife, makes you think.))

#headless horseman #dullahan #monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #headless horseman x reader #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #happy halloween #spooky season #jack o lantern #halloween story #spooky story #original story #classic horror #classic movie monsters #dullahan x reader #classic monsters

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lie-lacdreams · 17 hours ago

Text

Some headcanons in Thermo & Turmoil so far (for Curly and the reader)

Because I just inserted hella headcanons into the plot and feel an urge to explain all of them and then some more lol

(Before I begin I would like to start off by mentioning that I'm a bit clueless when it comes to using Tumblr so please forgive me let me be incompetent and ignorant in peace)

In this story, reader is in her mid to late twenties, like 26-28 years old. Curly is in his early to mid thirties (33-35), which means he joined Pony Express likely fresh out of college or trade school

Reader is a chemical engineering graduate student, specializing in green synthesis and catalysis. What this all means is that she has a particular interest in sustainability and organic chemistry

The way her morals and ethics left her body after getting accepted to work at Pony Express, a shady company with not the best green practices (she was desperate to find a job, okay?)

one last related thing - the timeline of when things happen in the game vs. in this story aren't very well-aligned. I'm going off of my own timeline for plot reasons

Okay, now on to more fun and general headcanons I have for Curly ~

I subscribe to the common belief that Curly is a big romantic. How could he not be??? He tried to seek out relationships throughout his twenties but remained unsuccessful to find someone who would stay with him through the crazy structure of his occupation. Imagine being in a relationship with someone who you couldn't see or communicate with for months to a year at a time. I absolutely get it

It all makes sense because he's absolutely married to his work. He's kind of come to terms that he can't have a long-term romantic relationship and a career as a freighter ship captain. Those two things simply don't go together well

At this age, Curly has reached the peak of his career - and when he comes back from another successful trip, he has quite a bit of monetary compensation waiting for him in his paycheck

Single and childless, he's financially comfortable - he has his savings but he also will pay the bill for his friends and family 8/10 times (would he fight for the bill? Of course not, he gave his card to the waiter halfway through the meal to pay)

He doesn't feel bitter about his lifestyle. He chose it, after all. Sure, he sometimes wishes that he had stability on Earth and a family of his own to go back to, but he loves living vicariously through his friends and that to him is enough for now. Every wedding, baby shower, friend's child's birthday party - if he's off the clock, he will absolutely be there and having the time of his life

Speaking of children, he would love to have some of his own someday, but as a single man who spends most of his time in a big metal box suspended in zero gravity, he doesn't know how to interact with them and is kind of awkward

He's very open minded to different cultures and new experiences.

Curly has been to a few Indian weddings where his friends would drag him out to the dance floor and make him learn Bhangra. He's jumping along like the rest of them, moving his arms animatedly to the beat of the music

like okay this white boy can dance! The crowd is so entertained

he's not a picky eater and would eat nearly anything. When he visited Thailand, the locals tricked him into trying balut (fertilized duck egg) and when he didn't react and mentioned that he didn't mind the texture that much, it left them confused and a little pleased

he sleeps warm and can't tolerate humid weather. Going to Thailand nearly ended him

He's so community-minded. This is why I could envision him with so many 1st/2nd gen immigrant friends. Man just gets it

This is also why the Chinese restaurant near where he lives loves him. The owner loves to use him as a role model for his son

You know that one family friend growing up that was stacked with accolades that your parents would compare you to? (or maybe that's just my own experience...) That is Curly for this poor little boy.

He's actually such a people pleaser, but hides it so well under being such a confident authority figure, so it just comes off as helpful and supportive instead

He loves when people go to him for advice. He may or may not have the experience to give the advice, but regardless he will try his best to come up with a solution

#headcanons #mouthwashing #curly x reader #Thermo & Turmo #mouthwashing x reader #curly mouthwashing #captain curly x reader

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windvexer · 10 months ago

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Got any super duper cleansing magical tips?

hell yeah I do brother (nongendered)!

this is just kinda how I do things and people definitely have different opinions but here we go, in no particular order:

If at all possible, physical cleaning is going to go a lonnnnng way towards magical cleansing. Even a little cleaning helps. If we're discussing cleansing something big (like, an entire person, a room, or an entire home), there may also be "key points" which deliver the most cleansing returns if physically cleaned. For example, a human person may find that their spiritual cleansing is very much aided by washing of hands, feet, and face - even if they can't fit in a whole body scrub.

Likewise, certain areas within a room may hold more influence than expected. A certain shelf, bookcase, or corner may alleviate the room of much badness if they alone are tidied and dusted.

In the home overall, look for major thoroughfare areas (perhaps near the front door or kitchen) which have little corners that have gone too far untidied, perhaps sticky with dust.

When it comes to objects, even a little wash, rinse under soapy water, wiping down with a damp cloth, and so forth, can go a long way towards magical cleansing. Often I do not magically "cleanse" at all, as a normal clean suffices for me in most situations.

I don't find physical cleaning to be totally necessary for magical cleansing, but it can be very helpful both as a first step, and to tackle stubborn cleansing problems.

Speaking of physical cleaning, home cleaning recipes also tend to work well for magical cleansing. A little vinegar is a very strong cleansing agent. Steep some lemon and rosemary in that vinegar for a few weeks, and forget about it - that's both a general household cleaner, and it'll cleanse the shit out of your magic stuff, too.

Ammonia is regarded to be an immensely powerful magical cleanser - one that must be heavily diluted, and tends to strip not only negative influences, but positive ones too.

Early on in my education, I was advised that a bit of bleach can go a long way towards destroying magical bonds. So, don't discount the household chemical cabinet.

For the own self, applying bleach or ammonia directly to the skin simply doesn't do - but a very gentle shower scrub containing a bit of salt, plus various kitchen herbs (dealer's choice - try sage and rosemary to start with) goes a long way. Wash from top of head to bottom of feet, and don't forget the back of the neck.

Other mundane things, like filling a space with fresh air or good vibes, are useful in cleansing in general, but may not suffice in heavy-duty situations.

A very fine cleansing charm is created with saltwater, this being from Paul Huson's rhyme in Mastering Witchcraft:

Water and Earth Where you are cast Let no spell, nor ill intention last Not in complete accord with me As my word, so shall it be

My personal lazy modification for the use of incense:

Fire and Air Where you flare Let no spell, nor ill intention last Not in complete accord with me As my word, so shall it be

Speak this over a little bit of salt water (after mixing) or incense (after lighting) and then sprinkle/wave it all about the thing to be cleansed. To be done when physically cleaning did not suffice, or when physical cleaning is not possible, or when feeling a bit fancy, or when preferring to just do magic.

In cases of emergency, or when it's desired to strip all magic and influence away from a thing, put it inside a plastic bag and bury it completely in salt. Seal this entire thing up (ziplocks are under the purview of true magicians) and then cover it up in a black cloth (or inside-out black graphic t-shirt, or oatmeal gray pillowcase, or whatever's on hand - doesn't matter really) in the back of the closet for 3 days and 3 nights, or until you feel like dealing with it.

When retrieved, the object should have no magical influence on it whatsoever.

In cases of confusing or unsatisfying results, consider if "cleansing" is really the action you should take. For example, if a tool is acting up and producing bad results, it might not be because it's "dirty." It could be that the tool needs to be fed. It could be interference from an ancestor looking for attention. It could be because your technique needs an adjustment.

Cleansing is a fine first step, and it's probably not going to hurt anything, but it's kind of like the "have you tried turning it off and on again" of magic. A lot of the times it fixes a lot of problems, but it's not going to fix actual issues that require a mechanic. (The good news is, the mechanic is you, so you're going to save a lot on repair fees)

In advanced cases, consider why things cleanse the way they do, and employ this to your advantage. Rosemary and frankincense may be considered to be "cleansing" because they "raise the vibes" and create an atmosphere incompatible with a lot of heavy bullshit. But, neither of these Allies are really attack dogs (at least, not in my experience).

Clove and Jalapeno are "cleansing" in that they will take the offending energy out behind the woodshed and teach it a lesson, and tell it not to come back to town or else. But, in my experience, neither of these allies really elevate a space with the heavenly touch of more celestial Allies.

So while I would say the average "cleansing formula" (whether it be a vinegar, an incense, and so forth) works in most situations, from time to time a more nuanced approach is helpful. Like a stubborn little stain, difficult-to-cleanse energies aren't necessarily powerful or bad - they're just nonreactive with whatever formula you're trying to use.

#answered

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true-power-limited · 1 year ago

Text

Chemical Earthing today has become a vital aspect of all electrical installations and facilities, from Low Voltage Distribution Networks to High Voltage Transmission Systems and small electrical appliances to next-generation sensitive electronic gadgets/goods.

What is Chemical Earthing?

Where do we use Chemical Earthing?

Chemical Earthing is the backbone of all electrical installations, utilities, appliances, and systems. It is mandatory for all Electrical systems without any scope of relaxation for any type for anything related to electrical systems and electricity.

It is a must for all homes, residences, offices, institutions, buildings, structures, colleges, monuments, industries, oil and gas plants, refineries, hospitals, data centres, military installations, defence centres, and whatever and wherever electricity comes into play or exists.

What is a Chemical Earth Pit?

What is the difference between Normal Conventional Earthing and Chemical Earthing?

Chemical Earthing differs from Normal Conventional Earthing on several grounds.

1) Back Fill Compounds used for reducing ground resistance: The Chemical Earthing utilizes Advance Ground Enhancing Compounds, also known as Chemical Earthing Powder, or Chemical Earthing Compounds based on bentonite, silica, or other chemicals in spite of using Charcoal and Salt, as used in conventional Earthing. The Bentonite Chemical for earthing is used the most, along with the Silica-based Back Fill Compound or Silica-based Chemical Earthing Powder.

2) Type of Earthing electrodes used: In Chemical Earthing, usually Earthing Electrodes like Pure Copper Earthing Electrodes, Copper Bonded Earthing Electrodes, GI Earthing Electrodes, Pipe-in-Pipe Earthing Electrodes are used in comparison to Pure Copper Earthing Plates, or GI Earthing Plates used in Conventional Earthing. The Chemical Earthing Material used in Chemical Earthing is far superior to the material used in Conventional Earthing.

3) Service Life of Earthing: Chemical Earthing has a long service life of 12–15 years in comparison to the 3–4 years of service life of Conventional Earthing. Chemical Earthing for homes goes a further long way in comparison to that of normally used conventional earthing.

4) Chemical Earthing Prices: Chemical earthing prices are far more reasonable than Conventional Earthing Prices owing to their longer service life. As the service life of earthing gets spread over more usable years in chemical earthing, its cost drastically gets reduced, thus providing more value and return on the investment.

5) Time/Effort required in Installation: Chemical Earthing requires less time and effort in installation in comparison to that Conventional Earthing. In Chemical Earthing, just 4–5 Inches of a hole is augured, in spite of digging a large pit as done in conventional earthing. Secondly, Chemical Earthing doesn’t require any additional effort and cost of laying a 1–3 meters perforated pipe with a funnel on the top to water the pit on a regular basis.

What is a Chemical Earthing Electrode? What are various Chemical Earthing Electrode sizes and specifications?

A Chemical Earthing Electrode is a Pure Copper, Copper Bonded, or GI pipe/rod used as an inserted conductor into the ground to dissipate the earthing current, or leakage current or fault current, seamlessly into the ground, without giving much electrical resistance to the dissipating fault current, and that too in a mere fraction of second. The Earthing Electrode could be a hollow pipe, a rod, or a bar, depending on the requirement.

There is one more form of earthing electrode known as the Pipe-in-Pipe earthing electrode. In it, there are two concentric pipes filled with the backfill compound between their gap and the inside of the inner hollow pipe.

What is Chemical Earthing Material/Compound?

Chemical Earthing Material is a low-resistance Compound that is inserted in the earth pit to surround the earthing electrode in such a way as to pack it from all sides while providing a close to zero resistance path to the current meaning for dissipating in the ground.

How to Install Chemical Earthing?

Installing Chemical Earthing is just a couple of hours job. It requires to follow following steps:

1) Dig a 4–5 Inches 1–3 meter pit-hole in the ground with the help of an augur.

2) Lay an Earthing Electrode into it.

3) Pour a slurry of Chemical Earthing Compound into the pit hole to surround and pack the earthing electrode in it.

4) Connect the Earthing Electrode Terminal protruding out of the earthing pit on the top of the chemical earthing pit with the load/application through the GI Earthing Strip, Copper Earthing Strip, or Earthing wire.

5) Cover the Earthing Electrode with Pit Cover to protect it from vandalism.

How much does Chemical Earthing cost ?

The Chemical Earthing price starts from 4–5 thousand and goes up depending on the type of earthing electrode and the backfill compound we are using for the earthing installation. The Copper Chemical Earthing price is higher than the other types of Earthing which use other types of Chemical Earthing Rods or Earthing Electrodes. The Chemical Earthing Rods Prices play a major role in deciding Chemical Earthing Prices.

We at True Power manufacture all types of Earthing Electrodes, including Pure Copper Earthing Electrodes, Copper Bonded Earthing Electrodes, GI Earthing Electrodes, Pipe-in-pipe Earthing Electrodes, along with Chemical Earthing Rods of different types.

Talk to us today to know about Chemical Earthing Prices, Earthing Chemical Prices, or other clarifications regarding Maintenance Free Chemical Earthing systems. We would be glad to share with your our Chemical Earthing Cost and features of Chemical Earthing Material.Contact us:

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True Power Earthings Private Limited

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gaykarstaagforever · 11 months ago

Text

1969

Jim Shooter wrote this, so it is significantly less idiotic than most of these.

That said...

Most of the plot - Superman and the Flash having amnesia and thinking each is the other one - hinges on the fact that they are identical men, except with different hair. Which seems implausible, since one is a magical alien with super-strength from the Sun, and the other is a nerd who was near exploding go-fast chemicals. But I guess it at least acknowledges how DC artists could only draw one muscley man over and over again in different skin-tight unitards. Fair enough, Jim.

We also get the weirdest random explanation for where Superman stores his Clark Kent clothes:

Clark Kent and Barry Allen spend most of the story running back and forth from Central City to Metropolis, desperately trying to find each-other to figure out what the hell is happening. Barry uses makeup to look like Clark Kent and gets almost-fired by Perry White for being bad at reporting on weddings. Because while this comic takes time to remind us Barry is a "police scientist," Perry also says he writes like a child.

Which...I mean, seems kind of rude to me, especially coming from someone who writes superhero comics for 8 year olds for a living. But I don't solve murders with science. So if you do, please confirm if you and your colleagues don't know how to write.

Eventually, Clark and Barry accidentally meet clandestinely on a Metropolis park bench. But Barry is dressed like Raphael from the Ninja Turtles, so they still don't figure it out:

...Why does this look like something someone drew from a picture they took from a bush? Is that just me? That might just be me.

This, however, is 100% exactly what it looks like:

They finally meet in an abandoned train tunnel and figure out each is the other, and trade clothes.

So it is canon in DC comics that Clark Kent and Barry Allen have been nude together in a train station, at least once. And then traded underpants.

Clark suddenly remembers what happened to them (possibly from the shock of being naked with Barry Allen; the comic breezes over this). There is giant space seed flying towards Earth, carrying the spore of a monster space plant that will grow to consume all life. Superman saw it and summoned the JLA to help him, but only the Flash showed up, because "Green Lantern is off helping Hawkman," and...I guess Jim forgot who else was in the JLA at the time.

Good on Barry for showing up, but how exactly is he going to help Superman stop a threat that is still in Space?

Answer: he is not. But Superman came up with a plan where he and Barry changed outfits to confuse the space seed (yes, really), and then Barry put on a helmet and Clark flew them both into it.

...At which point he suddenly realized it had kryptonite in it. He and Barry fell to Earth, unharmed but with amnesia.

But now that they're inexplicably cured by re-switching pants, it is time to hurry up and actually stop the space seed. Superman draws Barry a helpful diagram of his plan:

...Thanks, Kal-El. Totally worth the time it took to do that.

Assuming, like me, you have no goddamn idea what his plan is, think of the absolute dumbest way Superman could save the Earth from a giant kernel of space-corn. And that is exactly what he does:

He temporarily stops the Earth by making the ground really hard (specifically in Brazil, for some reason), and then repeatedly doing flying elbow drops onto it. Which, I won't lie, is exactly the awesome way all problems would be solved if we lived in a better universe where wrestling was real, and wrestlers were Superman.

...I still assume this probably killed at least a few people. Or fish, at least, on the daylight side where the Sun suddenly boiled an entire ocean.

Also, note how this "new" Superman plan ALSO DIDN'T INVOLVE THE FLASH WHATSOEVER. Except that he came along and narrated it for our benefit, while Superman was repeatedly smashing himself into Brazil.

The story ends with Barry hugging his wife and Clark musing to himself how he and Barry can trust each-other with their secret identities from now on, because their balls sweat into the same Spandex for like a week.

Implying that, what, the members of the JLA go into that WITHOUT knowing who each-other are? I mean, I of course see Batman pulling shit like that. But Wonder Woman and Hawkman barely have secret identities to begin with.

But I guess if Clark and Barry have exactly the same proportions and faces, maybe it doesn't really matter either way.

This issue also features the following ad for jeans:

I don't know if cattle-rustling was still such a huge problem in the West by 1969. But if you are a teen boy keen to take it upon yourself to stop it, I suppose it makes sense you should make sure your butt looks good while doing it.

Also, if you need more cheap plastic armies in your house,

#superman #silver age comics #comic book cover #1969 #dc comics #gay

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jpitha · 9 months ago

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Between the Black and Gray 15

First / Previous / Next

It was odd. Spyglass was a full five kilometers long, but they were being hired - at more money than Fen had ever seen at once - to bring one single K'laxi home. Normally, Fen would be busy helping the stevedores with their cargo, showing them where to put it, and getting things ready to cast off, but now she just stood outside the airlock at the dock, her rifle slung casually behind her, leaning against a wall.

This was a Sefigan station, and the whole place was decorated in desert colors and textures. Even though they were a shorter, furry race, the Sefigans came from a a world that had more deserts than Earth did, and had evolved to prefer that kind of climate. It was dry too. Every time Fen breathed in, she felt like her nose was drying out.

Sefigans and humans had a decent enough relationship. They tended to keep clear of the Empire and felt that most humans were entirely too rough for them, but they did help out against the Gren right after Contact, so most Sefs had humans defaulted to "they're all right, but don't lend them any money" levels of friendship. As Fen leaned against the wall near the airlock the Sefigans went about their day, and only the kids would look at her. Every time one of them caught her eye, she'd wink. Their eyes would widen and the braver ones would laugh and gesture hello.

After an hour, the K'laxi came. Fen saw her pierced ears, shining in the artificial light before the rest of her. She - Fen knew enough anatomy to make a relatively educated guess that she was female was tall for her race, with reddish brown fur, and her ears were heavily pierced. She practically jangled as she walked.

She was also armed. Weapons were not unusual out here, but most sapients tended to avoid chemical operated slug throwers. They'd stick with energy weapons or blades. Humans were the unique ones in that they carried their projectile throwers everywhere. This K'laxi was carrying a human made pistol, modified for her grip.

"Fenchurch Whitehorse?" Her voice was low and smooth. She was also speaking Colonic, she didn't even ask if she could use their original tongue.

"Call me Fen please." She clicked her heels together and gestured toward the airlock. "Welcome to Spyglass. Please come aboard."

"Right you are Fen. I'm Nalenni Bightiarr by the way, but please call me Nal."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Nal. This way." Fen led her aboard and gave an abbreviated tour. Nal was their only cargo this trip, but there was no reason to give her the run of the ship. Spy and Fen had set up access protocols when they learned they were going to have a passenger, Nal could get to her cabin, the lounge and - with permission - the command deck. That was about it.

After the tour, Fen brought Nal to the Command Deck and Gord was sitting in his chair, going over things with Spy. Gord, Spy and Fen had decided to not let Nal know that Spy (or Gord for that matter) was an AI, but they also were not going to hide it. Fen and Gord could talk to Spy and Spy would answer as best as she could, but maybe just a little more... shiplike for now.

Gord looked up. "Ah, Nal is it?" He stuck out his hand. Nal took it and shook it vigorously, perfectly executing the ancient human gesture. Gord accepted the handshake and got three quarters of the way through it before he realized was was happening and almost yanked his hand back in surprise.

Nal smiled. "I had heard you were old fashioned, Gord. The fact that you were willing to honor a favor made by my great grandmother was proof enough of that. Your own relative must have made the deal right?"

Gord chuckled and tuned away quickly. "Something like that. Nal, have you ever used a wormhole link before?"

Nal's ears flicked. "No, I've only ever used the Gates and the FlashWarp drive. Are you talking about the-"

"The sometimes some people die thing, yeah. I was wondering if you knew if you were effected."

"Nope, I don't know. I guess we'll all learn together. Honestly, I'm a little excited to find out. I would love to see my ancestors and ask them things."

Gord reached up and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I hear you don't normally get information that concrete. It doesn't happen to me, so I can't say for sure. Anyway, we're going to cast off in about an hour, and then eat. It's nearly time for the evening meal, ships time. Would you like to join us?"

"Sure, it's midday meal for me, but the meals line up well enough. I'd love to." Her tail flicked.

It was Fen's turn to cook. When they first started out, Fen thought she would be doing all the cooking as she was the only biological person, but it turned out that Gord knew how to cook. "You think this is the first time I've hosted a BI before?"

"BI?"

"Yeah, Biological Intelligence. You call us AIs, we call you BIs."

Fen couldn't let Gord do all the cooking, so she insisted that they take turns, once a week. This was Fen's week and she made dinner. The food was simple, but safe for K'laxi - Fen may not have known many recipes, but she knew how to cook for K'laxi - and there was plenty of it. They ate with gusto.

Even Gord had some. He didn't need to eat, but he did on occasion "so that I can remember my table manners" but Fen also wondered if Gord did it to help keep one foot into humanity. He has been around so long that she wasn't sure just how human he thought of himself.

Fen brought out tea for everyone and was clearing plates after the meal. Dishes were easy since it was only the three of them. Nal jumped up to help.

"No, Nal, I've got this. It's your first meal aboard, the least I can do is be a good host. You can wash up tomorrow." Fen smiled but gestured for Nal to sit.

Nal's tail flicked and she smiled. "Okay Fen, tomorrow." She sat back down, and turned to Gord. "So, it's just the two of you running this operation?"

Gord nodded and sipped his tea. "For the most part, yes. We've been at it a few years taking jobs here and there, building up a reputation."

"I'll say. You two already have a rep of taking huge cargos far away, fast. I don't think there are too many human cargo haulers over on this side of the galaxy, you all tend to stay near your own corner of space. I don't know what it is about your wormhole generator and why hardly anyone else uses it, but in your hands it seems better than just about any other FTL option they have out here."

Fen burned to ask Nal why she was way out here, and why she needed a ride home ASAP, but she knew better than to ask. What the cargo was doing was their business. Hers and Gord's business was to get her to her destination quickly and professionally. Curiosity would have to take a back seat.

After chores, they stayed up and chatted about nothing for a while, and then Nal retired to her cabin. A moment after the door clicked shut Spy called out. "She locked her door and I turned off the speakers in her room, she can't hear us."

Gord shrugged. "She seems fine. Keeps things close to her chest, but otherwise model cargo. Probably a spy."

Fen blinked. Nal? A Spy? "What makes you say that, Gord?"

"It's the little things. How she carries herself. She's confident around two humans - well what she thinks are two humans - and breezy but never actually admits to anything. She watches all the time. She practically was glued to your back while you were cooking, Fen. She's also very aware. K'laxi have excellent hearing and I could see her ears swivel at every noise that Spy made. She's skilled at gathering information."

Gord tossed back the rest of his tea. "Also, why else would a K'laxi be willing to pay the fuck off price to hire an entire Starjumper to bring them back to K'lax on a moment's notice. Something came up and she needed to get home asap. I bet if we weren't around she would have called for one of their frigates to pick her up."

"Now I know you're taking the waste." Fen shook her head. "You're just spinning tales. Why would a K'laxi frigate come out to Sefigan space just to pick up one person."

"Back me up Spy. Would the K'laxi send a warship to collect a single person if they felt that person was important enough?"

Spyglass chuckled. "Ancestors know we've done it plenty of times. You, specifically have done it too, haven't you Gord?"

Gord waved his hands, dismissively. "Once or twice Spy, once or twice. That was a long time ago though. My point is, it's not unreasonable for a government to go and collect one of their own, especially if they think that what they know is valuable."

Fen crossed her legs and leaned sideways in her chair. She never was able to get comfortable in Spyglass' chairs, she always had to lounge or lay sideways or contort herself to stop fidgeting. "Okay then, what does she know?"

"Hah!" Gord's laugh was a single bark. "If I knew that, for one, I wouldn't tell anyone, and for two, I wouldn't be nearly the last human built AI still up and mobile." He stood. "Go get some rest Fen. Spy and I are going to plot our last few links. We'll time them to get to K'lax tomorrow morning."

Fen shrugged and got up. It was getting late, ship's time and she was pretty tired. "Okay Gord. Night Spy."

"Good Night Fen."

Fen went to her cabin and after locking the door took off her clothes, took a boiling hot shower - one underappreciated luxury aboard was the nearly unlimited hot water - she was too used to lukewarm showers back home. After, she dried off and climbed into bed. Without realizing it, she had scooted over to the far side of the bed to give Ma-ren room to climb in with her. When she realized what she did, she sighed and moved to the middle.

She laid on her back in the dark, staring at the ceiling a long time. These were the times when it was hardest to be without Ma. She would come home after her shift, take a shower and clean the smell of the restaurant off her as best as she could, and then could climb into bed with Fen, and they'd just lay in the dark, holding each other. Some nights they transitioned into sex, but that was the exception. Both of them normally preferred to just hold each other and cuddle until Ma fell asleep. Fen smiled at the memory that Ma always fell asleep first.

Fen let the tears flow until they stopped, and then, eventually, sleep came for her as well.

Well after Fen was asleep, Gord went deep into the ship. Past the reactor room, past the med bay, past the rifle range and into a small room that was built next to one of the matter printers. He stopped and touched the pad with his palm and concentrated. The door hissed open, and he checked on his work.

Sitting on a long, high table was a body. Female shaped, with long legs and arms and silvery white hair. Her chest was open, and two of the printer arms were inside whirring away as they printed new muscles and laced bone. "How is it going?" he asked, without looking up.

"We're taking it slow, just like you wanted Gord. We're about 80% finished with the gross motor function. The brain is going to take some doing, like you thought. We might be able to get some high resolution print heads from the K'laxi, but they're going to ask why we want them."

Gord held up a finger. "Correction: They're going to ask why we want them if they catch us buying them."

"And you just happen to have ten shell companies to wash a purchase like that in your back pocket." You could hear Spyglass crossing her arms when she was speaking to Gord.

"I never said anything about buying them, Spy."

"This again. Gord, you can't just go stealing everything you need when it gets inconvenient to buy it."

"And why the fuck not, Spy? They never thought about our feelings as we were captured and shackled. They can take the hit. If it brings us closer to our goal, it's worth it."

"What about Fen? She'll get caught in the crossfire. If the Empire catches-"

"The Empire is lightyears from here Spy. Fen is fine. She's a crack shot now, she's got her own nest-egg. She could sign on to any merc group that is looking for a human. We've trained her well."

"So you're still going ahead with your plan to dump her somewhere."

Gord stared at the body being printed. They were so close. "It's... still an option Spy, that's all."

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