#i wonder if there is gonna be a twist to World Dai Star; but maybe I'm just projecting Revue Starlight into it

[mesmarique]

Yuri and Subtext in Spring 2023

Spring season is knocking at the door and the Yuri shipping in Spring 2023 will be unreal. I swear to Madoka.

There's at least two Yuris that are gonna hit us with full force, two at the very least subtext-heavy ones, and I'm sure the Uma Musume creators are gonna find a way to make it really gay in Road To The Top as well.

Here I list the shows (as far as I know, but in case there's gonna be last minute additions, I will edit this post accordingly) that are going to come out in April, as well as little side information, fun facts and my personal feelings about them:

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury Season 2

This series is, like it says, a continuation of The Witch From Mercury which aired from October 2022 to January 2023, our protagonist is a shy girl from Mercury by the name of Suletta Mercury, who was thrown into a setting à la Revolutionary Girl Utena, with duels that determine who's going to marry President Delling's only daughter Miorine Rembran. I'm gonna keep the summary short here, because there's a lot of spoilers to beware of, but for the Yuri enthusiasts it's a show that should not be skipped over.

I personally really loved this show, it was very exciting to watch and the next cour promises a lot more than what we have already seen.

And the best thing is: You can watch all of it subbed on Youtube legally on the GundamInfo channel for free. The episodes are still being regionally unlocked, but a great portion of the world should be having standard access to most episodes by now, as well as the Prologue that is strongly recommended to watch before you get into the main series at all.

There is also a novel chapter set between the Prologue and Episode 1, which you're free to read anytime after watching the Prologue.

You are NOT required to have seen other Mobile Suit Gundam series' prior to this one, it's original and written by the author of the official Revolutionary Girl Utena novels (mind you, he is not the original creator of Utena!).

Season 2 is going to air from April 2023, every Sunday (presumably the first Sunday of the month, which is a 2nd. Oy, don't look at me like that, they did say it as cryptical as that! lmao). Edit #1: Set airing date is 9th of April!

Here you can watch an English subbed trailer for Season 1:

Edit #2: There is now a trailer for The Witch from Mercury Season 2 (it contains heavy spoilers for Season 1):

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story Season 2

This show is produced by Bandai, like the series above. The first season aired from April to June 2022. This one is honestly quite a messy but entertaining show, with quite a few genres mixed into it. The lead characters in this one are also girls and have a very soul-matey connection to one another (They legitimately can't stop thinking about one another for 5 seconds, there is also a noticeable attraction going on).

It's best described as a wlw soap opera with golf and other themes (to keep it spoiler free).

Fun fact, this series offers quite a few winks at Gundam fans and I would not be surprised, if somehow The Witch From Mercury and Birdie Wing were to collaborate in one way or another to promote the respectively other series during Spring season.

And even if you don't enjoy golf as a sport, you might still enjoy this series. I personally loved it even more as a casual binge, but that's to each their own.

Season 2 is going to air from 1st of April 2023. Edit #2: it's April 7th, my bad

Here is a PV for Birdie Wing: Golf Lesbians' Story Season 2:

Yuri Is My Job

I'm a huge fan of the manga and I can say for sure: YES, Yuri is indeed their job, but also part of their private lives.

It is personally one of the better Yuri dramas that I have encountered over the recent years and if I had to compare it to anything, then I'd say it's like Citrus, if you take away the SA, make it more manipulative instead, as well as diving deeper into the characters feelings, thoughts and struggles that come with those. I can't say for sure how much of its greatness there will be displayed in just one cour, but regardless of it, I'm excited to see the adaptation.

The general setting is the one of a café from an in-universe fictional German all-girls academy, with very sapphic display of affection among the waitresses as part of a roleplay.

Season 1 is going to air from 6th of April 2023.

Here is an English subbed trailer for the anime:

World Dai Star

There is a rising trend of Takarazuka Revue anime, but why would I complain?

For those who don't know: Takarazuka Revue is an all-female musical theatre group based in Takarazuka, Japan, that perform any kind of roles regardless of gender. Because of that the "genre"(if you can call it such) itself has very sapphic undertones. Directly or indirectly influenced by Takarazuka Revue have been Roses of Versailles and Revolutionary Girl Utena, of which the former inspired Kageki Shoujo!! and the latter inspired The Witch From Mercury (so many crazy coincidences in the upcoming season, aren't there?) and Revue Starlight. To get back to this series:

It's not known a lot (or translated) what the story of World Dai Star is gonna be roughly about, but judging the media footage alone, its focus lies in the Takarazuka Revue performances and presumably to make it big in the world, if the title is anything to go by.

Season 1 is going to air from 9th of April 2023.

The most recent non-subbed PV for the show:

Uma Musume: Road To The Top

Uma Musume is back at it again, after two successful seasons, and other medias, here we have a brand new story that is gonna be directly released as an ONA (Original Net Animation), likely on this Youtube channel. It's not known how long it's gonna be, but its primary focus is a retelling of the late 90s/early 2000s era of Japanese horse racing with 3 new protagonists and I believe some reoccuring characters from either of the seasons before.

Uma Musume retells historical careers of Japanese race horses in a kemonomimi setting, and the passion of the work behind it is tangible. The emotions are captivating.

I had a hate-love relationship with Uma Musume Season 1, because it drifted away from the historical aspects here and there that it initially covered so greatly, but Season 2 reignited my love for it so strongly, that it became one of my favorite anime. A Season 3 is also in the works, which I'm excited for.

Now for the legitimacy of the Yuri in this one: No, it's not Yuri, but it offers enjoyable subtext. Season 2 is a great example for that. Uma Musume is about racing, which also leads to great rivalries. And we all know and love a good girls-rivalry story.

The ONA is going to release (whether one by one or fully remains to be seen, as its length is not known) from 16th of April 2023.

Non-subbed trailer for Uma Musume: Road To The Top (I'm already loving this animation, it's the same studio that produced Season 2 and it shows):

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hey so I just found your account and omg?? it's literally so amazing 😭✋

Anyways-I was just looking through a bunch of the twist monster au headcannons/stories, and I thought of a scenario that could be done!

Basically the cast reacting to gender neutral or female reader/yuu acting stuff out in their book they are reading like poses, dialogue, just genuine reactions to the text itself

ex. Throwing the book across the room and them being genuinely concerned that something happened bc reader is just staring off into space or cursing but what actually happened was either a character died/did something embarrassing/the mc and love interest finally kiss

Anyways that's all I had in mind hope you have a good day/night! <3

Omg thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying the content! QvQ

Ah, books. Such a wonderful creation humans made to fill us with raw, pure emotion or shattering our hearts and souls into a million tiny pieces—only for us to read it again and again! Don’t you just love those moments as a reader? UvU

Except for cliffhangers. Readers have a love/hate relationship with it, writers adore cliffhangers! ÒvÓ

So, what happens if we take a bookreader!Yuu (they/them) and throw them into Twisted Monsterland where even the history books read like a world guide/omnibus to a game or TV series? Oh, and I took a bit of inspiration from a Disney princess comic and a Bill Watterson “Calvin and Hobbes” comic for two of these scenarios. 😂

/-----------/

“Jeez, you sure you’ve got enough books, Yuu?”

“The librarian wouldn’t let me check out more than ten at a time,” Yuu replied, their backpack and arms filled with thick books. “Wish I could’ve gotten ten more at least, but this’ll do for now.”

“Are you sure you can even read all those before next semester?” Deuce asked in concern. “Those look pretty…dense.”

“Oh, I’ll be done in a week. Maybe a week and a half if we get a lot of homework.”

“Funya?! You gotta be kidding me!” Grim said. “Can humans read that fast?”

“Not everyone. Some people are slow readers, but that’s okay since they enjoy it at their own pace while I enjoy it at mine. Only problem for me is choosing which one of these I want to read first!”

/Later that night/

“Yuu? It’s time to eat!” Grim called out. Silence greeted him as he stared at Yuu, who was sitting on the couch with their face practically buried in a book. Frowning, the chimera padded over to the couch and repeated, “Yuu! I’m hungry!”

Still the human didn’t seem to respond, their shoulders hunching as they turned the page.

“Yuu? Yuu!” Huffing, Grim crossed his arms as he glared up at them. “You’ve been reading for the past three hours! How much longer are you gonna read that book?”

“What’s going on, pal?” one of the ghosts asked as the trio appeared.

Gesturing his paws at Yuu, he said, “They’ve been reading ever since we got back from the library today, and now they’re not reactin’ to me. It’s dinner time and they haven’t made any food yet!”

Before anyone could even think of what to say, a loud, shrill squeal filled the dorm.

“Eeeeeee!!!” Yuu squealed, a huge grin on their face as they flopped to the side and kicked their legs like a nervous rabbit while holding the book against their chest. “Omg it happened, it happened!!”

“Mrah!? What?! What happened?!” Grim yelled, wings flared out defensively while his fur bristled. “Why are you yelling!”

“My new OTP!! They finally kissed!!” Yuu said, their eyes wide as they rocked from side to side. “They kissed!! Yes!! Yesyesyesyesyessssss!!!”

“OTP? What’s an OTP??” one of the other ghosts asked.

“It’s what we like to call the ‘one true pairing’ in a story,” Yuu explained, a positively giddy expression on their face with eyes shining brighter than the stars as they struck a dramatic pose. “It’s two characters who vibe with each other on a level that you just can’t help but want them to be together—and the author brought these two together!! Yeeeeeeeee, I’m so happy!!”

“And loud,” Grim grumbled, paws clamped over his ears. “Why are you standing like that?”

“It’s how the main character professed their love for the other!”

“…are all humans as weird as you?”

“Trust me, there are people out there that are way crazier in their excitement than I am right now.”

“Really?!”

“Oh yeah. Don’t even get me started on the fanfics people write.”

“Fan…fics?”

“Oh, you sweet summer child…”

/Two days later/

“Heeeey, lil’ Shrimpy~!”

“Mm…”

“Eh…? Hey, Shrimp…why are you ignorin’ us? It’s not very nice.”

“Now, now, Floyd. One mustn’t interrupt a reader when they’re indulging in such a riveting story.”

“Shh,” Yuu muttered, their brow furrowed as they hunched closer to the book. “I’m at the best part!”

Floyd frowned as he laid his head on his arms, the basilisk slumping against the table. “Man, this is lame,” he said. “You promised to come play basketball with me today!”

“Once I finish this part, we can go do whatever you want, okay, Floyd?”

Jade hummed in amusement as he said, “A rather daring proposition you just offered, Yuu.”

“We have to do a buncha reading for class anyway,” Floyd said with a bored expression. “And Crabby and Mackerel said you finished two other books already, so what’s the point of thi-”

“AAAAIIIIIEEEEE!!?!?” Yuu shrieked, leaping out of their chair as Jade and Floyd recoiled in shock. Before the twins could react, Yuu had ducked back into their chair and pressed the book even closer to their face than before.

“…lemmie see that,” Floyd said, leaning over the table to grab it.

“No, no! It’s fine, go do something else!” Yuu said all too quickly, sinking even lower and turning away from Floyd’s reaching claws. “I think I heard Riddle in the hallway.”

“Lemmie see it!”

“No! You can’t read it!” Yuu cried out, bolting away from the table holding the book tight to their chest.

“Get back here, Shrimpy!”

“Noooo!!”

“Oh my,” Jade uttered, eyes wide for a moment before he chuckled. “Perhaps I should look into this book when they’ve finished it.”

/The next day/

“Oh no…oooh noooooo, I hate this so much!”

“Then why are you reading it?” Jamil asked, the naga curled around them. “If you don’t like it, just take it back to the library.”

“I can’t! It’s soooooo good!” Yuu said, practically throwing themselves backwards onto Jamil’s snake half with the book pressed against their face.

“Eh? But wait, you just said you hated it,” Kalim said in confusion.

“I hate it, but I love it so much,” Yuu told them with a whine, their head now touching the floor on the other side of Jamil’s snake body yet still draped over him like a cat. “This book will ruin your heart and shatter your soul into a million pieces!...you should read it too!”

“Given how dramatic you’re being, it might not be wise,” Jamil said with a sigh.

“Read it!”

“It’s okay, Yuu. We can read together! It’ll be more fun that way!”

“Kalim, no. You still need to study for the next potions exam.”

“Augh, I need someone to talk about this story with so we can lament in solidarity!”

“…have you been taking lessons from Rook lately?”

/Three days later/

“Um…is Yuu okay? They’re looking a little…tense.”

It had been several days since Yuu borrowed a stack of books, and already they had gone through nearly half of their hoard. Between classes and on breaks or after finishing tests, it wasn’t hard for students to notice the lone human with their nose between the pages of one book after the other. Even the researchers had taken note of Yuu’s behavior in between tests, making note of their expressions and how their body changes with each scene depicting their emotions. It was noteworthy how they reacted when a character in the story did something “cringeworthy and stupid” (as Yuu would explain when asked), it looked as though the human had swallowed a lemon.

At the moment they were sitting in Heartslabyul, yet another book in their arms as they sat on one side of the lounge. Cater had taken progression snapshots of Yuu’s body slowly curling into itself, eyes steadily growing wider and wider to the point it looked as though they’d bolt away in panic.

“They’re fine,” Grim told Trey as he munched on a snack. “They’ve been like this since they got all those books. That’s the pose they had last time when their Ohteevee smooched or somethin’.”

“Oh, you mean ‘OTP’, Grimmy,” Cater corrected with a smile. “That’s so cute! Our human has an OTP already~!”

“I’ve heard of hitting the books, but this is ridiculous,” Ace commented with a sigh. “They’ve been reading so long that I forgot what half their face looks li-”

“GRAAAAH!!!!”

SLAM! Fwump!!

“Gyah!?” the boys yelped, everyone staring at Yuu as they sat on the couch with a dark scowl.

“Yo, what the heck? Why’d you throw the book like that?” Ace asked, pointing at the large tome on the other side of the couch now.

“Um…Yuu?” Deuce began when they didn’t respond. “Are…you okay?”

“……I’m mad,” came the response, Yuu’s expression growing more annoyed as they stared off into space.

“About what?” Riddle asked in surprise.

Yuu’s gaze turned to the discarded book, their expression as though they had been betrayed by a trusted friend as they said, “Because my favorite character died, and I refuse to read how the book ends when there’s literally two freaking pages left! That’s not enough space to bring them back in a satisfying way!!”

“Y…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Ace grumbled with a sigh. “That big of a reaction just because a fictional character was killed off?”

“You weren’t there to see the struggles they went through! I saw them change from an annoying bully into a fully developed and vulnerable character who wanted to take charge of their life—and the author killed them off!” Jumping to their feet, Yuu marched towards Ace and Deuce’s room where they’d left their stuff and said, “Where’s my notebook? I need to fix this!”

“What are you gonna do?” Grim called out.

“Write a fanfic, because my scrunkly deserves to be happy!”

“Huh? Scrunkly??”

/Final day/

“Oh, Great Seven…what happened in your book this time?” Vil asked with a sigh.

Yuu sniffled as they tried to dry their tears, though it was difficult as more continued to flow down their cheeks. “I…I just finished my last book,” they said, their voice cracking a little with emotion as Grim pat their arm reassuringly.

“All ten books in a week?” Vil said in surprise. “That’s…impressive. Even so, why are you so upset? Was the story that horrible?”

“No…it…it…it was too good!” Yuu cried out, clutching the book so tight that their knuckles turned white as the tears flowed freely now.

“Ah…such pure, raw human emotion,” Rook crooned. “To express it so freely without fear…beaute!”

“Was the book really that good?” Epel asked.

“Yes!” Yuu wailed. “Now that it’s over, I…I don’t know what to do with myself now…”

Peering at the title, Vil gave a thoughtful hum and said, “Oh, that story. I hear there is supposed to be a spin-off book series. The first one should have released just the other day.”

“Really?!”

“Mrrr…now you’ve done it,” Grim grumbled with a sigh. “Here we go again.”

[revasserium]

anon request: why they call it falling x osamu miya

126. why they call it falling

osamu; 1,078 words; fluff and the most fleeting of suggestive themes; really just a character study on the miya twins + reader as a conduit for character dev

he has always had someone who knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how he was feeling. because when god made twins (or so osamu thinks), they got really fucking lazy and probably just hit ctrl+v one too many times.

when he meets you for a first time, he wonders if this is what it felt like for a hurricane and a typhoon to finally learn about each other, the only difference between them being where they occur — only an entire ocean and half a world apart.

“i think… i met someone,” he says.

“i think… i’m done with volleyball after high school ends,” he says.

“i think you’re an idiot,” atsumu says.

“do you… think i’m an idiot?” osamu asks, sitting across from you on a summer evening, long after practice has been over, but the stickiness of the day still lingers on his skin. tsumu is still mad at him, but what else is new?

you regard him for a minute, pressing your lips into a soft, thin line as you stare out across the darkening horizon.

“no…” you say finally, looking down at your hands, loose in your lap. osamu looks down at his own hands, loose in his lap, his palms littered with calluses from all the hours of practice. all the hours of dreaming.

“i don’t think you’re an idiot.”

osamu smiles, nodding, “thanks…”

the truth is that it’s been way too long since he’s felt like the shadow of himself, or perhaps of someone else, and it’s been way too long since he’s really known what it felt like to do something with his whole entire soul and feel good about it. and that’s a kind of growing up too — so he learns — that’s a kind of changing.

“we wanted to be the best,” he admits, chuckling to himself, the thought of it now somehow ridiculous in a way that it’s never been to him before. he shakes his head and sighs, shaking our his bangs from his eyes as he casts his gaze up towards the first burgeoning stars.

“you still can — what’s stopping you?” you ask, your grin going lopsided in the way he likes. and when he looks back at you, he sees the world reflected in your eyes.

later that night, when he is making music of your body with his lips skimming a line along the sharp of your exposed collarbones, when his fingers are tugging you apart, when you are pushing back against him, pushing him back into the mattress of his own bed and atsumu is nowhere to be found (probably still sulking somewhere with the rest of the team), you pull back and smile at him — the lopsided smile he loves so much and he can’t help but lean up to kiss it from your lips.

and he feels it in his own body then, the years and years and years of his practice, the years and years and years of his hard work. him and his twin brother — the mirrored half of himself, the light to (perhaps) his shadow. ying and yang and all that slow, smooth jazz.

he grins too and kisses you. he kisses you hard and fast and he makes music of his own body then, too. because his body has long since been an instrument and he was born knowing how to play every single one of its notes.

“stay,” he says, after he’s had his fill of you, because a part of him knows that he’ll be just as hungry later.

“maybe,” you answer, even as you both hear his brother come home.

atsumu comes back to find both of you asleep, the sheets twisted over your very, very naked bodies. and a part of him wants to hate it but another part of him doesn’t. he can’t.

because this is what happens when a hurricane and a typhoon learn about each other for the very first time — they are so, so much the same thing, made different only by their times and places. but they are still just beating hearts and half-caught breaths — they are still just wind and rain and a tunnel between the sea and the never-ending sky.

“what are you gonna do?” atsumu asks, not looking at his twin.

osamu shrugs, “dunno… maybe i’ll make rice balls.”

“hn. you do make good riceballs.”

“i… i think i really like her, y’know.”

atsumu heaves a long, deep breath. he nods.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu grins, “right. of course you do.”

and the truth is that when god made twins, they probably hit ctrl+v one too many times, and they have always known things about each other that no one else will ever know or fully understand. like, the things that make them different, totally and inexplicably.

“he’s gonna be the best in the world,” osamu says, his eyes bright as twin stars as you sit next to him, the pair of you glued to the match on the tv screen. there’s an apron around samu’s waist and rice sticking to his fingers.

you almost laugh.

“he already is,” you say.

it takes three seconds of osamu to turn to you, his grin going lopsided as he watches you watch him.

“i — i think i love you.”

and you really do laugh this time.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu only rolls his eyes, goes back to pressing the musubi between his palms as the commercial break cuts to some curry commercial featuring an incredibly deadpanned kageyama. he packs the rice in tight and hands it to you.

“how’s it taste?”

you take your time savoring the flavor, grinning as you take another huge bite. the smile on osamu’s face spreads and spreads and spreads.

“like the best in the world,” you say, before shoving the whole thing into your mouth just to make osamu laugh.

“you’re… an idiot.”

you swallow hard and reach for a glass of water.

osamu catches your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, letting his lips linger there even as the commercial break ends.

“i know,” you say, nodding as you both turn back to the screen. the rice is warm and fresh and the nori is crispy and just the perfect amount of salty.

“yeah, i know."

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Stresses Matthew Out, Reader Lives Up to Her Nickname, Morpheus Goes Soft on Reader (A Moment of Weakness He Calls It).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.7k

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“It has been nearly a fortnight, Matthew,” Morpheus spoke, drumming his fingers on the arm rest of his throne in a cloud of broodiness and irritation. “And she hasn’t left her wing, won’t respond to Abel’s invites for tea, and hardly speaks to the Dryad twins. No matter how much I ask, she refuses to talk about what she is feeling. I can feel her pain, how it twists her mind, claws at her soul, how it hurts her. Why does she choose to suffer? Why does she not come to me?”

Matthew, faithfully perched on the back of the throne, cocked his head side to side, wondering how he would explain this one to his master.

“Well sir, human females are complicated creatures…” Matthew started, shifting his feet and scrambling on what to say next.

“Y/N is no longer human,” Morpheus corrected the raven. Matthew quickly backtracked.

“Females are complicated creatures, sir,” He tried again. “We both know that she is head strong, I think she is just struggling to figure out what to do with what she is feeling. I don’t know about you, but I would feel pretty violated if something happened to me and I didn’t remember… and from what Y/N looks like, whatever happened subconsciously put the fear of god in her. I think we just need to be there for her, she’ll come when she’s ready. She’s been messed with enough in her life, let her sort this one out herself.”

Morpheus’s mood only grew worse and his fingers curled around the stone of his throne until his nails scraped marble. Clearly Matthew was doing a terrible job at reassuring his master. He could feel it. Then again, Matthew hadn’t even been Morpheus’s raven for two months, he was still new at the job. But Morpheus was getting gloomier and gloomier with each passing day, if it was even possible for the Dream Lord. To say that Morpheus and Y/N fed off of each other’s emotions was an understatement. Matthew ruffled his wings and fluttered down to the white marble in front of the throne, he looked up at his master.

“Look, sir, maybe it would do her some good if you got her out of the castle? The village is finished and we both know that she always wanted to see it. I think she needs some fresh air, get a nice view of places she hasn’t been before.” Matthew offered, tilting his head. “Granted she probably won’t say much… but getting out would be better than staying in. She needs some vitamin d or she’s gonna into a ghost or something.”

Morpheus raised an eyebrow at Matthew’s comment and the raven looked away.

“Not that being here is gonna do that,”  Matthew hastily corrected himself. “I can go check on her, see if she would be up to going out and seeing more of The Dreaming…?”

“Perhaps she would be more agreeable to a different face.” Morpheus spoke quietly, brushing his lips with his fingers in deep thought. Matthew bobbed his head and immediately took to the air, soaring through the throne room and to the nearest archway. The raven weaved through halls of marble and gold, stars and darkness, brightness and life, until he had reached the east wing. Then he was gliding from room to room in search of his missing lady. She wasn’t in the sitting room, the wings private library, or on the balcony. Y/N Burgess was nowhere to be found. Coming to a confused stop, Matthew looked around and wondered if he had simply missed her. Then Lantana approached him.

“If you are looking for Mistress Y/N, she is no longer here.” Morpheus was not going to be happy.

One Hour Earlier

Knowledge was a heavy burden to bear upon your shoulders. It had been two weeks since the night where Morpheus had to pull your soul back into your body and then mitigate the proceeding panic attack. You hadn’t remembered anything. But the emotional pain you had felt in your chest felt like your heart was being torn apart in a vicious manner. Who knew that you could feel physical pain from something so emotional. It had been nothing like you had ever felt or experienced. Terrifying. Overwhelming. It was as if all your fears had been condensed into one moment. You had shut down. Even with Morpheus in his calming cat form, close proximity, purring and all, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you had done something very bad.

That wasn’t that far from the truth, because you did end up remembering, and what happened was something Morpheus could never know. Not if you didn’t want blood on your hands. You knew what he would do if he learned that not only had Desire tried to win you over, but they had used their magic on you and then kissed you. Desire had gotten to kiss you before your own bonded. Dream would kill Desire, you just knew it. Even if Morpheus never wanted to kiss you in the first place.

You could never be the reason Morpheus murdered his sibling.

you still felt entirely rattled by the experience that you didn’t even want to go near Morpheus when he was in his human form, you felt so guilty. That meant you could hide the fact that you finally had remembered. It hurt to knowingly lie to him, most likely because the loyalty you felt was formed from the bond. Would he be mad if he found out you had lied? Undoubtably. It was also a given that he would find out at some point. You were getting good at walling yourself off from him, but you couldn’t hold him off forever. Morpheus was protective of what he considered his, and you had been his, since infancy. Morpheus had always been with you, through every milestone you had, through thick and thin, even when the drugs suppressed his presence, he was still there.

There were stars in your eyes and they were there because of him.

You aired out a soft sigh and leaned your forehead down on your knees. Your favorite seat in the entire wing was sitting on the stone railing to the balcony and looking out at the forest and mountain range. Hemponia and Lantana hated that you were putting yourself in such a position, but you only felt true peace when you were outside on the balcony. Between the breeze and the quiet, you felt like you were in your own little world, one that you could control. Drumming your fingertips on your shins, you glanced over the side of the railing. It was a long way down.

Shifting in place, you carefully moved yourself from your sitting position so you were standing on the wide stone rail and looking out at the vast forest and looming mountains. To be as free as a bird… or raven, you were envious of Matthew at times. Somewhere in the palace there was a shift of stone, like claws drawing across rock. Your eyes lifted further skywards and only a few seconds later a massive glittering body of marble and gold glided down to parallel where you stood. The dragon that guarded the ivory gates. You felt a connection with it and in turn the gentle humming of magic that ran through it’s glorious body.The beat of it’s wings buffered your hair and shirt. Your eyes drifted to it’s back and a brief flicker of a thought entered your mind. Morpheus would never allow it. But he wasn’t here to stop you, now was he? You didn’t even take a second to think about the logistics of what you were going to do. No, you simply took one powerful leap from the balcony.

The Dreaming was your home now, your safe haven to manipulate and explore, so you sailed through the air to land on the dragons back with the grace of a feline. You crawled into a crook on it’s neck and settled down shortly before the dragon flapped it’s wings harder and proceeded to climb further skyward. The wind alone, rushing past your head in strong gusts, was more than enough to clear your mind and drown out any echoing thoughts of what you currently felt. The cold air and black out noise rushed through your veins like a shot of adrenaline. You took a shaky breath of relief. This felt so much better already.

The marble dragon banked to the left, coasting in a wide arch around the forest behind the palace. That gave you a much appreciated view of the trees and land far below. Leaning further over the sculpted left shoulder, your eyes caught sight of movement within the trees. At this height you shouldn’t be able to see anything within the green and brown flora, but your eyes sharpened and cleared, giving you a picture perfect view of some rather odd looking deer bounding their way through a forest clearing. The pristine white antlers projecting from their heads spiraled and curved in shapes you had never seen and you could have sworn they all had tails that reminded you of a horse. Long and flowing.

You wondered what other animals the Dreaming had that mirrored ones from your word and yet were still so vastly different. Well, there was going to plenty of time to explore and find out, you did have eternity to find out. The dragon finished it’s arc and started gaining altitude, heading for the soft clouds that dotted the fading horizon. It entered them and you closed your eyes, feeling the soft and billowing vapor brush across your cheeks and flow over your bared skin. If only moments like this could last forever. You opened your eyes and leaned forward, resting your cheek on the smooth marble scales beneath you while stretching your hand out. Condensation gathered along your fingertips as cloud trailed over your fingers.

Bright silver dust emitted from your fingertips, leaving behind a path of sparkles that gently fell to the ground far below like a dusting of rain or even stars. It must be Morpheus’s magic, ever present and occasionally expressing itself in an ethereal way. You wiggled your fingers and more silver dust sparked from your fingertips, swirling in excited bursts that mimicked fireworks. Who knew how long the dragon coasted, you didn’t care. Fifteen minutes, an hour? Time flew by in a trance of tranquility and calm. That calm was then broken by the call of a triumphant raven. Lifting your head, you looked to the source and saw Matthew coasting along side the dragon.

“Matthew?” You called softly. He let out another cry and tried maneuvering closer. The winds were strong. So opening your arms, you let him all but crash into your chest in a haste to escape the churning winds created by the marble dragon’s wings.

“Have you been up here this whole time!?” Matthew squawked as he dislodged his face from your shirt and ruffled himself, his black eyes soon fixing on you. “I’ve been looking for you for nearly half an hour!”

The raven was distressed.

“My apologies Matthew,” You spoke to him, brushing your fingers across the ruffled feathers on his head to smooth them down. “I did not mean to make you worried.”

“Worried!? You are on the back of a fucking dragon!” The raven screeched, flapping his wings in your arms in emphasis. “Pardon my language, ma’am, but how in the fuck…?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. He was genuinely confused and worried.

“I needed a moment for myself.” You told him shortly before you felt a wave of emotion that wasn’t from the raven. Your hands stroked the midnight feathers gently and you addressed Morpheus, knowing that he was probably looking through Matthew’s eyes at this very moment. “I felt like I was suffocating, you cannot fault me for latching onto what I thought to be a chance of freedom from what I have felt these past two weeks.”

You could have asked, I would have taken you myself.

Your eyes crinkled for a moment and you looked up at the receding sun that grew ever so close to disappearing beyond the horizon.

“It was an impulse, Morpheus. Nothing more. Not a whim but a need, I already feel much better. Besides, I wanted to be alone.” You responded softly, gazing beyond black eyes to stormy silver blue ones. He wasn’t appeased, you knew that much, but was willing to let this go simply because you were seemingly happier. The dragon banked in the air and started coasting back to the palace. Morpheus must have withdrawn from Matthew because the raven rapidly shook his head.

“I am not going to get used to that anytime soon… but seriously,” His eyes looked into yours as his head cocked side to side in curiosity. “How’d you manage this?”

Lips twitching in amusement at the fascination and genuine curiosity in his voice, you decided to tell him.

“Jumped off the balcony.” You explained. The dragon dipped, heading downwards at a faster pace. “It was kind of like flying through the air almost. I wanted to land on the dragon’s back, so that’s what I did.”

“Badass,” Matthew breathed out. A disapproving feeling rushed through both of you and Matthew quickly scrambled to correct himself. “I— I mean… ma’am! That was dangerous! You shouldn’t do that! If you want to ride a dragon ask Lord Morpheus next time!”

Not even the melancholy you had felt for two weeks could stop the bubbling giggle that escaped your lips. It was the first you had smiled in two weeks, or laughed for that matter. You stroked your fingers down Matthew’s back as the dragon flared it’s wings and dropped to the courtyard garden at the back of the palace.

“Thank you, Matthew, never change.”

“Don’t plan on it, ma’am.” Matthew chirped as the dragon came to a stop and carefully folded it’s wings. Moving Matthew from where you had held him against your chest, you let him take off from your hands and launch himself back into the air. Watching as he circled overhead, you slowly turned your head to eye the less than pleased Morpheus rapidly approaching the dragon. You swung your leg over the smooth stone side of the dragon, prepared to hop down.

Not. Another. Inch.

Oh yes he was far from happy with you. At the very least he should be happy that you were back on solid ground. Unharmed. You stayed where you were, lightly tapping your fingers against the dragons stony side. Morpheus strode up to the dragons side, the entire time his gaze boring into yours in disapproval. Staring down into his eyes, you raised an eyebrow when he held up his hands and rolled your eyes. Well if he insisted. Giving yourself a little push, you slipped down the side of the dragon and dropped to the ground. Rather than drop to the ground and wobble in his hold like expected, you found your body dropping into his arms, your hands landing on his shoulders.

Your face ended up so close to his that your noses brushed. Blood was instantly warming your cheeks and as much as you would have abruptly yanked away in embarrassment pre-Morpheus, you, once again, were caught up in his intense and inhumanely beautiful gaze. Good God did your lips just brush? He was going to be your undoing. Surely.

“I really do feel better now, you know.” You whispered meekly, not wanting to start or pick a fight with him now. His gaze softened ever so slightly and you were slowly put down on your feet. Morpheus was slow to withdraw his touch from your waist.

“Next time please use the courtyard. Your balcony is not meant to be jumped from.” He told you, finally withdrawing his hands and leaving behind a soft warmth you almost wanted back. You withdrew your own hands from his shoulders and gave him a small shrug.

“I’ll try,” You told him, glancing down for a brief moment. A thought popped into mind and your lips twitched. Your eyes returned to his as a sly smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “But I can’t make any promises, my nickname is Little Troublemaker. It’s what I do.”

Not staying for the reaction to your light jab at him, you darted off towards the palace, leaving behind Morpheus who was emitting emotions of shock and a scant amount of amusement.

Date Published: 11/14/22

Last Edit: 8/20/23

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[digeethegenie]

The Absolutely Peachey Keen Cactaur Conductor vs the Lillikin of Light (Or is it Darkness?)

Day 26 - Zip Shadowbringers (5.0) - Shadowbringers Character spoilers for World of Final Fantasy, of all things

Another Time, Another Place

The arid sands of this new world fill my… Well... not my nostrils, I don't have those… however we sort smell things as I behold it's brick coloured magesty. In my Fifty-odd years of conducting I had never- well ok I had seen places like this quite a few times before, but would it be fair to this place to judge it on all the others has never seen?

And clearly suffered some sort of calamity.

Maybe even quite a few.

But that is not important! To me anyway. For I am the Suculentious, Studatious (and not at all Salacious) Cactaur Conductor! And, though cosmos spanning shinanigins that I am not at legal liberty to divolge, I am setting up the railway on The First.

You might be thinking, "But why?" but, I pose to you, dear reader, why NOT?

… What's a Y'shtola?

Anyway, your absolutly peachey-keen Cactor Conductor will-

= = =

"So that's the monster?"

Ryne nodded to Yujo as they looked on from their vantage point.

"It looks like a normal cactaur to me… That all sort of babble like that."

"They do?"

Yujo turned around to her Hume companion. "Oh… oh so it's 'actually' talking. Like, "in common", talking. That… That's not normal cactaur behaviour. Not that wearing a hat is normal behaviour for monsters."

Ryne simply aquessed to the lalafell's expertiese on the matter.

"Well, It's not doing anything wrong, so I suppose I'll just take a look and-"

= = =

"And do what, exactly, tiny Lillikin girl?" I ask the lillikin that stood before me. Slightly wierdly proportioned thing. Looked more like a sack of popotoes than the more cubioud head shaped lilikin that I know.

Both the lilikin and the tiny jiant girl jumped backwards, screaming like…Well… litle (and jiant) girls.

"When did?!" the lilikin asked, clutching her chest from the fright.

"It was just over there a moment ago!"

I let out a laugh. "You have just been witness to one of my many fantastic abilities, jiant girl! Conducting is but one of my many peachey-keen fascets!"

I watched as the two girls exchanged confused looks.

"What on the star is…"

"Peachy-keen?"

There's exactly no appreciation for the common slang of yester-year.

The lilikin is the first to recover. "Doesn't matter. You're here so you can explain yourself. What are you doing messing around with Twine's railway?"

Oh, are they on to me? Oh, that could be bad. The lady was kind of insistant that I didn't talk about that sort of thing to the locals.

I give them the most serious face I can muster. "I'm sorry, I can't divolge that information."

The lilikin had a look that kind of reminds me of that Reynn girl at her most zipped.

"Oh I don't no time for this." she said as she took up a fighting pose and lauched towards me.

"Zip!"

I hear her utter something in confusion before she takes another lunge at me.

"Zip-Zip!"

She stumbles a little. Her jiant companion asking if she was alright only seemed to make her even more zipped and even more like Reynn.

I wonder…

I let out a suculant laugh. "Ahaha! No one has ever catched me in my fifty years of Cactauring! Well, once, exactly once. I have been caught exactly once."

"It's gonna be twice when I get my hands on-!"

"Nope! Zip!"

= = =

Yujo growled in frustration as the cactaur dodged her as if it vanished the instant her fist would have made contact. It was like nothing she had ever fought before.

"Stand still and let me-"

"Not happening, zip!"

She twisted as she tried to keep her footing before a childish scream of frustration filled the Ahm Areg air.

= = =

Oh this is too easy. Tones of fun though. Nothing like giving the locals a good heart stoper and then giving them the run around.

Well, they'll get tired of this and surely walk off so with a few more dodges I should- wait why is the lilikin glowing?

= = =

"Behold! The fan that sunders all! Limit Breaking Mystic Art of the Luminary! Fan Dango!" Yujo's form suddenly split into several indicical pieces and all launged at the Cactaur.

= = =

"Oh… bother." I uttered as I saw a gaggle of Lilikin all lunge for from every direction.

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 7

Ch 38

Learning Lysandra’s a shapeshifter is kind of cool, but also, all of a sudden I feel like I’m reading Crescent City

Hopefully they can free magic soon so she can transform into the fanged, clawed beast she once was.

Ch39

The interrogation of Stevan, even though he’s begging for death, gives me a lot of hope.

Aw my little heart, when they visit Sam’s grave. I never thought maybe Sam was her mate. (Personally I think it was Nehemia; but Sam was also loved by her once, and since she said she’s not interested in women, it makes more sense for it to have been him.) I wonder if in this world you can have more than one mate. If not, in some ways, it’s better to be human, since your heart can heal and you can fall in love as many times as you want.

I think I like falling in love more than being mates, anyway. It’s more meaningful, if you get to decide for yourself who you love, than leaving it up to fate or god or some cauldron.

Anyway. I’m really rooting for Aelin and Rowan to fall in love. I feel like they’re already 90% of the way there, and it’s not gonna take much, to push them over the edge

Ch40

Is spooky

Elide is a friend of Aelin’s too! The part where she was talking about dreaming of her one day coming to rescue her, y’all, this girl reads so gay, and I love her.

Ch41

I’m glad both of the boys are here and I’m glad Aedion wants to kill Arobynn but I want Aelin to be the one to do it. She deserves to brutally ruthlessly murder that man and it would be a very meaningful death for her.

I love how sexy she is in her dress

I love to see Rowan pining for her!

Ch42

Arobynn is a twisted mf

Flirting quietly with ROWAN ~ flirt flirt mind flirt~ you two! <3 will you please consummate. PLEASE

Ch43

She died her hair red to impersonate Arobynn, lol.

Ok, I hate him, but like, yeah, I guess it is kinda cool that he morphed her into a badass. What would she have become, if it weren’t for the assassin’s guild? (Still hate him tho)

OOOH that mother fucker

Ch44

I guess I fell for it, too. Man. The Valg commander getting his ring finger sliced off gave me a small bright moment of hope, and yeah, i was thinking about Dorian. But I guess I know that doesn’t work now, because he still seemed to be possessed by his demon even after losing the ring. Unless he was faking that, too?

Arobynn is such a SLEAZE.

“All this time i thought it would be a relief, a joy to end him. But all I feel is hollow. And tired.” Aw baby no

You should be dancing on his fucking grave

ALL SYSTEMS GO IT’S TIME TO GET ROMANTIC

“Don’t do that. Don’t - touch me like that.”

Rowan quit sending mixed signals, you’re centuries years old and she’s a fucking teenager, you have to spell it out or she’s gonna get her feelings hurt, boy. Don’t be rude. Just tell her you’re not ready/that you have reservations about bedding your Queen/that you want to feel a little safer in the world before you can initiate something romantic/whatever. Don’t you dare phrase it like that or she’s gonna think you’re not interested, YOU DUMMY

“A gift, she knew - a gift from the queen who had nothing else to give a no-name whore with a sad story.” Lysandra! Girl, don’t ever let me hear you using words like that about yourself again. Please be kind to yourself! There’s no shame in your profession and Aelin is not better than you just because she’s a queen. You are a star and I am rooting for you.

LET’S GO.

Murder that guy, show no mercy!!!!

[itsbellat]

Rainbow Hearts: My Journey of Love and Acceptance

Hey there, my fabulous readers! Today, I'm gonna spill the tea on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, heartbreak, and self-discovery. So, grab your tissues (and maybe a tub of ice cream) 'cause we're about to dive into my coming-out story. Buckle up, lovelies, 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

Picture this: high school drama, butterflies in my stomach, and a heart that beats to the rhythm of teenage crushes. I had this major crush on Sam, a classmate who made my heart do somersaults and my mind go all mushy. Little did I know, Sam was bi-curious, and things took a steamy turn when we found ourselves making out in my bedroom.

But, oh honey, plot twist incoming! Just when I thought my dreams were coming true, life pulled a fast one on me. One fateful day, while Sam and I were caught up in the heat of the moment, my dear ol' mom decided to make an unannounced entrance. Yeah, talk about the ultimate buzzkill! My mom's eyes widened, and her jaw practically hit the floor when she saw us locked in a passionate embrace.

Sam had to make a swift exit, leaving me alone with my mom and a million emotions swirling inside me. But let me tell you, my mom? She's an absolute queen. She looked me straight in the eyes and reassured me that she loved and supported me, no matter who I loved. I could see the worry in her eyes when she told me that my dad wouldn't understand, so we had to keep our little secret between us. Mama bear was ready to protect her cub, and I couldn't be more grateful for her love and acceptance.

Heartbreak, my friends, is a real kicker. In the aftermath of the Sam saga, I discovered that Sam had a crush on this blonde dude from our history class named Zack. Talk about a twist of fate that felt like a punch to the gut! It felt like someone had played a cruel joke on my heart, leaving it bruised and shattered.

But being the passionate soul that I am, I couldn't let my emotions fester inside me. So, I did what any writer with a heart on the mend would do—I poured my feelings into a love letter. You know, penning down all those raw emotions, the highs, the lows, the what-ifs, and the what-could-have-beens. It was like bleeding my heart onto paper, putting every ounce of my vulnerability into words.

Now, let me share with you a snippet from that heartfelt letter:

"Dear Sam,

There are a million thoughts swirling inside my head, like a tornado of emotions that I can't seem to tame. It's crazy how the mere thought of you can make my heart dance a wild salsa, and how your smile feels like a ray of sunshine on even the gloomiest days.

But, my love, fate has thrown a curveball that has left me spinning. Discovering your crush on Zack felt like a dagger through my heart, shattering the dreams I had woven around us. It's like watching my favorite rom-com, only to have the ending rewritten without me in it.

Yet, despite the ache, I want you to know that my heart still carries a flame for you. Maybe it's foolish, maybe it's reckless, but it's a fire that refuses to be extinguished. And if one day, when the stars align and the universe whispers its secrets, you find yourself wondering about what could have been, remember that my heart will always hold a special place just for you.

With love, Bella" After pouring my heart out into that love letter, I couldn't muster the courage to give it to Sam. Fear and doubt crept in, playing tricks on my mind. What if it was too late? What if it would only bring more pain? So, that heartfelt letter remained hidden, tucked away in a secret drawer, carrying the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams.

But here I am, sharing this intimate story with all of you in the vast expanse of the blogosphere. It's funny how time has a way of shifting perspectives and healing wounds. I've realized that sometimes, the act of writing about our experiences can be just as cathartic as sharing them with the world. My hidden treasure of emotions, unveiled and released into the universe. It's a testament to the journey of self-discovery, resilience, and finding solace in the power of words. Life may not always turn out the way we expect, but it's in those unexpected detours that we uncover our true strength.

And there you have it, my friends—a glimpse into the rollercoaster of emotions that was my coming-out story. Life has its twists and turns, and sometimes love takes us on unexpected detours. But through it all, I've learned that being true to yourself and finding acceptance in your own heart is the greatest love story of all. Now, let's raise a metaphorical glass and toast to vulnerability, to love's unpredictable dance, and to the beauty of embracing our authentic selves. Here's to you, dear readers, and to the courage it takes to share our stories, even when they bear the marks of bittersweet memories.

Stay fierce, stay fabulous, and keep embracing the beautiful chaos that is your journey. Love is a wild adventure, and I'm here cheering you on every step of the way!

XOXO, Bella

[compulsoryroyalty]

(Undyne):

Undyne looked at the other in confusion, mainly as she sensed something seemed to be bothering them now, even if she was a bit dense and couldn’t tell by looking at them. “Uh, no? I know the Captain of the Royal Guard is Greatest Dog. He’s, like, super big and super tough from what I’ve seen.” The guppy wondered if she was maybe being tested or something, though her senses told her otherwise. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of you before. I only know of King Asgore, King of the Underground.” Well, she was having doubts about being in the Underground so this just proves she isn’t there anymore.

Undyne then began trying to use every ounce of her brain to figure out what was going on, though it all came back to that strange grey door in Waterfall. The guppy knew every inch of Waterfall like the back of her hand, yet that door had just appeared. The door was clearly stranger than she thought. “This is like the stuff Dr. Gaster talks about in science class when he gets too into his science stuff. I normally tune it out, though he’s got these awesome theories about different worlds and timelines.” The young monster may dislike science, though even she got behind those theories.

“Of course I can become Captain of the Royal Guard, though I know it’s gonna take a lot of work, but it’ll be easy for me.” Undyne was aware that her goal would be hard, requiring constant training and hard work, though to her it was still something she could do. “You know, the Underground. Where all monsters live after being sealed under the mountain.” It was basic history that everyone learned when they were little. The guppy’s stomach would suddenly growl again, showing that she needed something to eat. “Not to rush, though I could use something to eat now.” It seemed the young monster either wasn’t bothered by the fact she might not be in the Underground or didn’t completely understand the situation.

She very quickly stopped listening to what the child had to say.

“...He’s got these awesome theories about different worlds and timelines.”

“Aight ’Smarty Pants’, do tell me where Mobius is located then? Surely you know of it.”

“Mmm…. I suppose my point is…I don’t think the Dragons of my world and yours are related or even similar.“

Her ears folded against her head as every piece of information started to pelt her like a mosquitos on a summer day.

Underground. Avalice. Mobius. Underground. Avalice. Mobius. Underground. Avalice. Mobius--worlds. Worlds! Entirely separate planets that could coexist with Flora! That’s why the tenrec didn’t know what Lucky Stars were. That’s why Dragons worked so differently over on Avalice than they do on Flora. That’s why this child knows of a King instead of a Queen as her ruler! Why her magic felt different, why she speaks as if one of the twelve rulers of Flora was a complete and utter stranger to her! Every man, woman and child would know of the Darlings! Her father made sure of that!!!

That was the only thing she could even THINK of to explain any of this! And it’d certainly line up with all that she already knows! That. That dream with the dragon--that was real! Everything she spoke about, everything Kit felt, all of these vivid memories, they’re real!!!

This...

This was all insane. This was all fucking insane!!! But nothing else makes sense! There would be no other way to explain any of it!!!

But then why??? Why are these people appearing left and right? Why was she with that dragon? Why did she suddenly disappear?

She’s missing information--it doesn’t add up! It just. It just.

It was as if the fennec had seen a ghost. Struck, paralyzed in thought. Her mind raced to a myriad of separate conclusions, none of which added up, none of which made sense, all of which twisted her worldview further and further and further.

“I’ve brought the--”

Oh.

Of course.

Of course Friedrich would come back to something like this. The Queen, certainly having a breakdown of some sort, all the while the child stands there. Lucky that it is just a child--prodigy or not, Renard wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic if he found out his daughter was showing weakness in front of a commoner.

The possum raised his hand, following it up with a loud snap.

“Lagomatrons, if you will.”

The small army of robotic maid bunnies saluted, all rushing towards where Undyne and Kit stood. The maids expertly weaved their way around the two, beginning to clean and repair any of the damage done to the area with the magical blue spears. They would even pull out any spears and neatly stack them off to a side in a nearby corner.

“Should we go and eat now, your highness? I’ve already told some of the Lagomatrons to begin cooking.”

[daughterofthequeen]

Under the Stars

Parings: Steven Grant x gn!reader

Warnings: Episode 3 spoilers of Moon Knight(pretty sure everybody in this fandom at this point has watched the show but none the less), First time writer, Little Angst, Fluff, Layla(her beauty alone is a warning)

Summary: It has been hours since you’ve had Steven in your arms, but with everything that has been going on it might take even longer to have that sensation again. Well that’s what you thought until you get to see him again under the stars.

A/N: This is basically just a rewrite with my own little twist to it because after all these months I am still absolutely IN LOVE🤍with this scene. This is also my first time writing a fic so take it easy on me and I’m hoping you guys enjoy it.

———

After a long hot day in the desert, the sun has finally gone down. But the day turned night is not stress-free. After making it out of Moggart’s, you, Layla, and Marc are parked in a random spot in the desert with the material from the sarcophagus and tape on top of the hood of the car trying to figure out this confusing star map thing, which seems impossible without Steven. You’re helping as much as you can, but mainly tagging along for Steven and moral support and you wouldn’t take no for an answer. Call it crazy but you care about him just that much.

“Try that.” Says Marc handing a piece of material to Layla hoping it would be the correct piece to at least start the puzzle map.

“Maybe, actually,” Layla said while she taped the piece given to her to the piece she already had. You on the other hand had nothing, trying your best to stay awake and contribute for the world’s sake, and for yours, you didn’t need another annoyed glare from Marc and his attitude towards you.

“This one?” You said handing a piece you had to Layla.

“Uhhh no, anything else?”

“I’m not getting any whole constellations it’s just little pieces and fragments.” Marc slams his hands on the car hood in aggravation. Which woke you up pretty quickly, causing you to almost jump out of your skin, not expecting him to have such an outburst. “This is gonna take forever,” Marc mumbled out loud to himself but also loud enough for it to be directed at the two of you.

“Marc we need Steven. He understands all of this I really think it’s worth giving him a shot.” Layla suggests.

Marc looks up towards the top of the car roof like somebody or something was there to catch his attention, but when you looked up nothing was there. So you could only assume it was Khonshu(Layla explained everything on the plane ride to Cairo. Khonshu, Ammit, the magical white suits Marc and Steven wore, all of which helped a lot in keeping up with all the situations you’ve been in before getting on the plane and after.)

“Marc, we can’t wait. It’s ok just let go we don’t have time!”Layla raised her voice a little trying to be heard over Marc’s aggravated grunt and him ripping off the car's left-side mirror. “What are you doing?” Layla asks after Marc sighs in surrender and reaches across the car's hood to grab everything off and walks a few feet away from the front of the car. Layla looks over at you like you would have some insight into what was going on, but all you could do was shrug wondering the same things she was. After Marc stops walking he drops everything into the sand and holds up the mirror to talk into it. “Alright, go ahead you’re in.”

All you could see was the relaxing of his shoulders from the bright lights the car provided, but you knew that closed-stance anywhere, that was Steven, your Steven. “Cheers, thanks a lot. Alright. Yeah.” Steven says looking down and dropping to his knees in the soft sand and starts to work on the map that you guys spent what seems like forever trying to figure out. You looked over at Layla before moving to make sure it was ok with her before moving, no matter how bad it hurt to stay away from Steven, you wanted to be respectful, imagine if it was the other way around. She nodded in understanding and it took you less than a second to start moving. You were actually quite nervous. You don’t know why it’s only Steven you get butterflies every time you were around him, but these weren’t butterflies. This was fear. You were afraid. Afraid that after learning everything he did in the last few days he wouldn’t want you anymore. He had a wife. Who of which was the strongest, boldest, and most beautiful woman you have ever seen. How could you compete with her? And you were afraid Steven would be thinking the same way too. But here you were standing behind him unsure of what to do or say. So you just settled with his name.

“Steven?”

Steven did a double small double take to make sure it was indeed you, he was looking at. And when he was sure that it was you he stood up and sprinted the 2-3 feet that was between the two of you. How you missed staring into those big brown chocolate eyes of his and only seeing love and adoration in them. Instead of the cold hard ones full of annoyance you have had to deal with for a whole day now with Marc. But it wasn’t just annoyance behind his glare towards you. There was more, something softer, and kinder. Almost like the cold shoulder, he was giving you was a mask to throw you off of how he truly felt.

“Y/n” Steven breathed out and put his head on top of yours as he breathed in the smell of your shampoo. How he missed having you in his arms, and how you’ve missed having him in yours. You were there for him when no one else was and gave him a chance to love when no one else did. And he was not letting you go again, never, not unless you wanted him to. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed holding you.”

“Just as much as I missed holding you.” You said with a chuckle. You wanted to kiss him so badly but held back because of your respect for Layla and because of how overwhelmed Steven must be. “How are you feeling?”

“Whole of a lot better now that I’m back in control of my body and can actually touch you. It’s been crazy lately hasn’t it?” Steven leans back to look into your eyes, and when he looks at you it’s like he is seeing the beauty of the world for the first time like he is so in love with you that just one look would fix everything, and it does. He is too good and pure for this world and you hate he has to go threw all of this but that is the reason you came, for he wouldn’t have to go through it alone.

Steven rests his forehead on yours and closes his eyes with a deep breath, finally relaxing. Holding your hips a little tighter he opens his eyes to look directly into yours and he starts to slowly lean in, but no matter how much you want to you can’t, you know how it feels for the love of your life to be there in front of you but still completely out of reach, and Layla has been through enough of that.

“Wait, Steven.” You say as you lean your head back a little putting your hands on his chest lightly.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” As he frowns a little in confusion and worry.

“Nothing, I just-.” You drop your head, your shoes looking a lot more interesting all of a sudden.

“You don’t want to kiss me. That’s fine I-I just thought that actually, I don’t know what I thought, I’ve just missed you so much in the last few hours. I’m sorry I know you’re probably going through a lot at the moment that was inconsiderate of me, I’m sor-.”

“STEVEN!” You have to raise your voice just to be heard over his nervous rambling. “That is not what’s happening.” You say in another little chuckle. “I do want to kiss you, I want nothing more in the world right now, but. . . that wouldn’t be fair to Layla.” You look down again as you whisper the last part in sadness.

Steven frowns a little and nods in understanding glancing over at Layla. He then rests his forehead back on yours and uses his nose to rub against yours, wanting to get close to you in some kind of way. You smile at that, fluttering your eyes open, and return the gesture. You’re both in your own little world smiling until you hear Layla speak.

“Y/n”, she says a little louder than a whisper, which caused you to look over at her, to see her nod her head. You know she is telling you that it’s ok, to let go, and do what your heart so desperately desired. So giving her a look back that says “are you sure”, to double check. She nods again letting her lips turn up into a little grin of reassurance.

And with that, you turn your head back towards Steven and kiss him with every single ounce of love you had. Taking him by surprise he pauses in question. “It’s ok”, you say quietly and that was all he needed to kiss you back tenfold with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before, with your hands tangled in his luxurious hair that you loved so much, and him with one hand tight on your waist and the other softly on your cheek. You two kiss until all the breath in your lungs were gone before you both pulled back gasping for air.

“I love you.” You pause and look up into Steven's eyes. Neither one of you had been brave enough to cross that line of your relationship, but it seems that kiss gave Steven the boost he needed to let those three words out. And those three words coming from him made your heart burst into more admiration and love you have had for Steven than any other relationship you have been in. Smiling as big as you can on cloud 9 with tears starting to well up in your eyes, you say it back.

“I love you too.” Which triggered the same reaction for Steven. The both of you basking in the bliss a little longer until you pull back to peck Steven's lips two, three more times before you remind him about the map. This brings his focus back enough for him to grab your hand and call Layla over to start explaining everything about the map and how it was meant to be used.

You don’t know what the future holds, but you do know this, nothing is going to separate you from him, not again, not after being reunited under the stars.

[homesickhalfling]

I watched Bo's new special Inside today.

#spoilers #Inside #boburnham #howthefuckdoiputthisunderacutidontwannaruinpeoplesfeedswiththiscrap #idontknowhowhashtagswork

---

I felt anxiety before I watched it, almost like I knew it was going to hurt me.

And it did.

About halfway through i realized I had spent a lot of it literally hugging myself.

I sobbed after it was done. Sobbed.

Then I spent half an hour in the fetal position in silence in my room wondering what I was supposed to do now.

He articulated everything I had been feeling but running from for the past few years because I didn't want to acknowledge it or know how to say it, let alone fix it. ("There's that feeling again")

He proved that I was right when I had guessed that making this special would be a difficult regression for him and not good for his mental health. That he'd start questioning his life and his career.

It was hard to watch someone essentially record themselves having a breakdown over the course of a year. Even when he was trying to make me laugh I felt bad for doing it... yet I still laughed.

I feel partially responsible for his mental state. I participated. We all did. We gave him the likes, the views, the follows, the ticket sales. He was a child star and it fucked him up. There's a moment where he's sitting there watching one of his early YouTube videos and I just felt such pain for him. How horrible it must feel to live in the spotlight and be expected to make others happy ("dance you fucking monkey/ watch the skinny kid with the steadily declining mental health as he attempts to give you what he cannot give himself") and no one deserves to live their lives in that state.

He pointed out so expertly how the internet has spun wildly out of control and technology is too accessible and is ruining society. How everyone has to broadcast themselves and their opinions all the time. How kids grow up attached to tech that is rewiring their brains and development.

It was hard to watch. Of course he was funny, he made silly jokes and did silly dances and made fun of people and himself in poignant and catchy ways as he always does... but at the core of it all was this struggle of trying to make sense of a world that doesnt make any fucking sense. That is harmful in almost every way. And not wanting to participate in it anymore but having no way out.

He talked about wanting to kill himself, but not kill himself. I know that exact feeling. I have been saying it for months (maybe not out loud cause I don't want to alarm anyone but...) some days I just dont want to exist.

He talked about his anxiety, about feeling agoraphobia, about how the outside world is like a coal mine. And it's a perfect analogy.

He sang "congratulations" to Bezos. How many times have I said that exsxt thing to people? I say "Congratulations you won capitalism, good for you, now give us all your money."

He filmed himself turning 30. I turn 30 this year. It looked exactly how it feels. Scary. Lonely. Disappointing.

The ending hurt too. Its too real, too "meta". It's unavoidable and hurts to think about: He's come outside and "reentered" but all we are going to do is put him in the spotlight and laugh as he struggles with wanting anything but that. And yet he's releasing this fucking masterpiece... and like... are we not supposed to applaud him for it? It feels like a trap. Which I guess is exactly how he feels. Which just makes me appreciate his genius that much more for being able to convey that so perfectly.

He made me question everything (including my white woman instagram) because of course... what was I gonna do the second I finished watching? Post my opinion about it on social media. Like he said we all do. Like he asked us not to do. He's absolutely right that it's a pointless and empty validation thing that we all do and can't stop doing... and why? What purpose does it serve? ("Just perform for each other, all the time, for no reason")

I just kinda want to crawl in a hole and not participate in society. You know, like how I have always felt. Like my anxiety and depression have been telling me to do for years. That feeling I have to shove down every single morning before I get dressed and go to work. Pay bills. Socialize.

I dont know what to do now. I understand him not wanting to finish the special... because... then what? Just carry on like nothing happened? Go back to "normal"? Or go back to our isolation and wonder if/when things will ever get better for any of us?

Anyway... all of that being said... I think it's an important look in the mirror at where our society stands and what we have become. I think it's exactly what the world needs to hear right now even though it's hard. ("Look into my eyes don't shy away"). Bo is our mirror. A tortured, twisted, broken mirror for our tortured, twisted, and broken society.

And here I am... giving out my opinion that no one asked for or needed or cares about. Like the fucking hypocrite I am.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing iv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 105

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a glimpse into the past

Jungkook’s been to a total of two graduations his entire life—one was his middle school’s graduation that seemed more like a farewell party and his older brother’s college one. Now, he can say that he’s attended three. But he’s never felt like this—never felt dread to say a temporary goodbye to a face he’s been so accustomed to seeing.

Maybe that’s why he’s in such a sour mood as his peers hugged their seniors' goodbyes, smiles on their face while they engaged in chatter about the future. Jungkook’s always been hard on parting and today is no different. Especially with the constant reminders at every corner of the hallways, streams of red and blue painting the ceilings with a big fat ‘happy graduation to the seniors!’ Mocking him on his journey to his classes.

He almost wants to slap some sense into himself. Because why was he terrified for the beginning of a new chapter that wasn’t his story to tell? Why was he dreading the moment that the seniors collected their diplomas and walked off the stage; and out of his life?

But he doesn’t do that; because the fear is as addictive as the excitement he feels when he thinks of you. A conflicting and tortuous juxtaposition of the beautiful day for a valedictorian and her younger friend.

“Jungkook!” A voice calls, and when he turns he sees Taehyung barrelling towards him with two people trailing closely behind.

When Taehyung plummets into Jungkook’s chest with an oof, but all Jungkook can focus on; despite the ache in his chest, is you.

You’re so pretty. But that’s nothing new for Jungkook. However, you were smiling, soft and sweet like the person who stayed up during her finals to tutor Jungkook on math concepts and the same girl who supported him through his football trials in junior year.

But you were grown, and the robe was the testimony of your age and maturity—the level of intelligence that you possess only grew with time and now you were walking towards him with a sense of quiet assuredness that he’s always admired you for.

Jungkook’s sure he’s gaping but he’s never been able to control himself around you.

“Can you stop gawking at her already?” Taehyung complains, twisting the skin between Jungkook’s armpit in retaliation.

Jungkook burns but scowls at the older boy who simply snickers in response.

“I’m so glad you’re graduating.” Jungkook snaps.

Taehyung snorts, “If I go she goes.”

Jungkook purses his lips as he readies himself for another retort, but you arrive and the first thing he notices is how gentle you smell. His favourite scent in principle, a whiff of laundry detergent accompanied with the light floral perfume he remembers his mother gifting you for your birthday.

“You’re gonna miss us, aren’t you?” Is the first thing Jimin says when he greets the younger boy with a ruffle to his head.

Jungkook glowers in embarrassment as he tries to fight him off, and despite his shorter stature in height—Jimin was in fact, quite strong.

Regardless of his flustered state, you smile at him warmly and perhaps Jungkook is biased when it comes to you because he’s sure you’ve always smiled the same, but every tilt of your lips evoke an array of different feelings in Jungkook’s chest.

“The two of you are like dumb and dumber so no—not really. God knows he’s finally granted my wish for emancipation.” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung feigns offence with a hand to his chest, leaning his head against Jungkook’s shoulders while he rolls his eyes.

Then he remembers you, the girl who just smiles as the world will always do her good.

“But I’ll miss Noona, though.” He says, and he hopes the shakiness of his voice isn’t obvious. “She’s the only one that doesn’t tease me.”

You grin up at Jungkook, giggling when Jimin and Taehyung gape at the younger boy’s audacity.

“Yah. You call her Noona and not us Hyung?!” Taehyung screeches were loud enough for the group of you to wince at his loudness.

“Don’t forget that you would have never have met her if it weren’t for us, you brat.” Jimin reminds, though not maliciously.

Jungkook does thank the stars for them introducing him to you. Because he doubts otherwise you’d ever interact with him. You were always in your own bubble, tucked away in a safe space filled with your own sense of solace and comfort. And Jungkook admired that.

He liked being alone, but he never wanted to be lonely. You were a breath of fresh air when you taught him the lines between loneliness and being physically alone; and how you learnt to never conflate the two. You were independent and bright, but warm and welcoming—and Jungkook remembers that these feelings weren’t just a floor away anymore.

“Ignore them, Kook.” You sigh. “Gonna miss you too.”

Jungkook feels himself melt because you say it so sweetly and sincerely.

Taehyung and Jimin ruin his love-blurred lenses by gagging at your blatant display of affection towards the younger boy.

“The two of you are so gross.” Jimin groans, earning a nod from his other half.

You roll your eyes when all Jungkook does is flush at the insinuation.

“Unlike the two of you, we make the better and more rational pair.” You chastise. “Don’t we, Kook?”

And the nickname he’s grown to love though he has a love-hate relationship with it slips off your tongue and he finds himself agreeing with you.

“These two idiots are a quarter of a brain-cell combined on a good day,” Jungkook mutters.

You burst out into laughter, rubbing a calming hand onto his shoulder and he feels the dread come in. Because this was no longer something he could reach out to when you went to college.

“Whatever.” Jimin scoffs.

Then the PA system sounds, and the principal calls for the graduates to gather at the hall. And it represents all of Jungkook’s worries in an announcement and he’s not ready to let you go yet.

“That’s our call.” You declare, eyes darting to the other seniors who pull apart from their juniors to rush to the hall.

Jungkook’s eyes widen one last time before Jimin and Taehyung both wrap their arms around Jungkook tightly, murmuring a much more sincere and grateful remark than their previous chides. And he feels slightly bad that he can’t respond because his brain is far more focused on your lone figure, who eyes him with sad yet gentle eyes.

“You’ll come to our role call, right?” Jimin asks.

Jungkook gulps because all he can focus on is your face.

“Y-yeah. Course’.” He mumbles. He feels the need to say something—do something before people crowd you after it’s over. Jungkook would never stand a chance.

He seems rooted in his feet, Jimin and Taehyung already trailing off with their arms around each other and words of their future in the air. You smile at Jungkook—and it’s the same—but his hands reach out before he can think twice.

Jungkook grabs your wrist before you can leave, gulping to himself when you stare at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” You ask softly.

No, he’s not, because his heart is beating so fast and he doesn’t want this day to come to an end.

“I-I’m okay.” He chokes, “I just—don’t you have a parting gift for me?” Jungkook blurts before he can rationalise what the fuck did he even mean.

But Jungkook just stares at you like a deer caught in the headlights while you tilt your head at him endearingly. He hopes that his pulse doesn’t emanate from his grasp, but your wrist is small, and it feels just right in his palm.

Your lips are twitching as a grin threatens itself on your expression, and he sees the mischief in your eyes that come out every once in a while.

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a gift, Jeon?” You tease, and Jungkook is so soft.

He snorts, a little glad that you didn’t point out his sudden grip on your wrist.

“But you’re leaving me.” He pouts.

You roll your eyes and take a step closer to him until you’re directly in front of him. And he sees your features up close and God—did he say you were pretty?—well because you’re even prettier up close and he loses all sense of thought when you’re smiling up at him with bright eyes.

“I’m always a call away.” You say softly, gently tugging at his hand; and it’s crazy to think that you were the same older girl that was usually timid reaching out to him in a way that was shy but so you.

Even with the chattering of other students, Jungkook only hears your subdued voice.

“It’s not the same.” Jungkook sighs, and he’s slightly aware that he was whining. But you don’t seem to be bothered.

“You’re probably going to forget about me.” You scoff and it’s light, but he can see the slight furrow of your brows. “You’re Jeon Jungkook. You’ll do great.” You add softly.

Jungkook purses his lips and wants to tell you that it wasn’t possible. You took up space in his life, both in school (well, not anymore) and in his mind. You and your wonderful mind.

“Says the valedictorian.” Jungkook huffs.

You pout, “You know that isn’t long-term. What if I just peak in high school and … you know …” You sigh, shaking your head, “I’m not outgoing like Jimin or a social butterfly like Taehyung. Neither am I as friendly and likeable like you are, Jungkook. I’m just … boring.”

Jungkook freezes because while he knew you were on the shier side; the louder than life tendencies you had were small but abundant. You didn’t need to speak louder than anyone in a room to get your points across, you were soft and empathetic and led people in organisations to see the good in the work they did.

Your genuine nature drew people in, even though you’d flush under attention and praise—and if Jungkook could—he’d scream it out to the world. But you were in front of him, and he figured that was enough.

“Don’t say that.” Jungkook snaps and his tone causes you to flinch as you stare at him with wide eyes, “Don’t … put yourself down like that. You’re great, _____. You’re intelligent and kind. Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re boring. There are situations in this world that need people like you. There are people that find comfort in a quiet soul because you’re introspective and thoughtful. People like …”

Jungkook exhales when you stare at him so earnestly, and his ears turn red. “People like me. We need people like you in our lives.”

Your mouth falls open as you blatantly stare at Jungkook with wide eyes; he’s on the border of being absolutely mortified and running away so he wouldn’t be the subject of your obvious ogling.

But then a soft smile makes its way onto your face, and you’re tugging Jungkook by the hand and into a warm hug.

Despite him being younger than you, he’s always been taller and bigger than you were. And it was a sense of security he felt in your presence rather than your physical entity that would never be replaced with anything else.

“You really grew up, huh?” You say, a giggle in your chest.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but accepts the way you rest your head on his chest. He’s never had you this close before, and he hates that it’s on the day he needs to say goodbye.

“I’ve always been this way.” Jungkook answers. He also thinks: I’ve always been here. For you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You say softly, pulling away even though Jungkook wants to keep you close.

“Anytime.” He smiles widely at you, and a classmate of yours calls your name as you turn to give them a nod of acknowledgement before you’re turning back to Jungkook with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Here’s your gift.” You inform him.

“I was kidding—”

And before you can respond, you’re placing both hands on his shoulder and on your tippy-toes to deliver a kiss to his cheek.

Jungkook is stunned and he isn’t able to process it fast enough. But you’re already offering him an equally flustered smile with the tip of your ears turning red before you’re waving shyly and tittering off to the hall.

Jungkook blinks, and a hand reaches to touch his cheek.

He looks up, and groans—because how the hell was he going to survive high school now?

[cordria]

Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart) 

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words. 

--

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with. 

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be. 

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows. 

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked. 

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly. 

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost. 

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death. 

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was… 

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was… 

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?” 

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds. 

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them. 

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working. 

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes. 

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out. 

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see. 

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin. 

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness. 

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine. 

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth and You

(cw in tags)

~

chapter one

“Olives or twist?”

Sirius had to watch the barkeep’s mouth to make out the words beneath the pounding music, which meant Sirius caught the way his eyes skittered across his face almost fearfully. The sheer amount of obsidian in this place probably did nothing to lighten his features. Not to mention, few people knew how to look him in the eye.

“Twist,” he said.

The man nodded and flipped the bottle of gin until it dipped into a shot glass, the glass into the ice. Sirius watched until he was stirring the bitters in and a hand appeared on his shoulder, lips to his neck.

“Burn this,” Saint said, and plucked at Sirius’ shirt sleeve, rubbing the black material between his fingers. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he turned. Saint’s own shirt was unbuttoned half way down his hard chest, light brown skin warm in the flashing club lights. “You’ve worn it too many times.”

“Hello to you, too,” Sirius said. “I like this shirt.”

“I liked it two months ago,” Saint replied. “It’s September now, your highness.”

Sirius scoffed as the bartender slid him his drink.

“You gonna tell everyone the sun did that?” Sirius took a clean sip of gin with one hand and stroked his other through Saint’s gold curls, only suddenly some of the slightly course strands were almost white.

Saint’s grin turned coy. “Isn’t it nice to have a mystery to think about?”

“Oh, yeah, do blonds have more fun?”

“You wouldn’t know.”

The music kicked up a beat that Sirius felt through his spine.

“Why do we always come here?” he leaned a hip against the bar. “We have an entire city.”

“Yeah, fuck the rest of the world, we have one whole city.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Saint shook his head. “Because that’s what we do. You see that guy over there? I’ve taken him out four times. Couldn’t tell you his name. They couldn’t tell you mine.”

“Everyone knows your name, Saint.”

Saint grinned. “Maybe. But why do we go back to each other? Because we’re creatures of fucking habit.” Saint cocked his head, stole Sirius’ drink. “And what is this city but a bad, bad habit?”

Sirius’ blood cooled and he looked away.

What am I, Sirius? said the familiar voice from his memory. Am I easy? Am I safe? Do you want me, or am I just familiar now?

He closed his eyes against the memory of his reply.

Bad habit indeed.

XOXO

Spotted—a familiar face from the past. What has this train brought in? Thanks to a tip from @magicinthemaking, I bring you this picture of none other than Remus Lupin (and a certain Southern bell we know and love) under Grand Central’s stars. We missed you, Re—how was England? Or was it Europe?

The rumors can never seem to decide, but why the sudden change in plans to take his Junior year abroad? Here we were thinking he wanted nothing more than to stay.

I wonder how another certain star will feel about this sudden homecoming. And just in time for senior year’s Fall semester, too.

XOXO.

Remus adjusted his suitcase, glad he’d mailed so many of his things home. He’d been on U.S. soil for all of three hours, and he already missed Rome. He wanted to walk down the tiny staircase from his billet family’s apartment and get a cappuccino. He wanted to stand on the drain of the Pantheon and soak up the sheer history in the air.

He already wanted a break.

But he also wanted to see Julian. Sometimes it felt like the only thing pulling him back home was seeing his baby brother’s grin in real life rather than across a Facetime call.

“All good?”

Remus looked up at Leo. His blond hair was still bleached a bright blond from the Roman sun. Their program had ended in May, but Remus was glad they had stayed together. He hadn’t been looking for Leo—for someone to kiss for the first time in the rose garden at the top of the Aventine Hill while Leo told him about its past as a cemetery.

It’s footpaths are laid out like a Minorah, see? Leo had pointed out. To remember. 300 different types of roses isn’t enough. But I like to come here.

Remus thought it had been Leo’s love for history, and his respect, too, that had drawn him in. They both came from a world where the biggest thing most people cared about was what they’d wear to the next party, and who was bringing their next drink.

Remus hadn’t been able to believe his luck, as fragile as his heart was still.

“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “All good.”

But he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t been friends here, in the city, or at Hogwarts. It had been Rome. Remus didn’t know what their old lives would do to them. But he took Leo’s hand and watched the way Leo fingered the star he wore around his neck, the way he shot Remus his dimpled smile.

“Come on,” Remus said. “I want you to meet Julian.”

XOXO

Good morning Upper East Siders—Gossip Girl here. All trends point to Fall’s Hogwartsers coming back in Black—in more ways than one. Sirius Black’s got a baby brother on campus now, and after another wild summer for the Hogwarts College elite, count me in with the rest of them on wondering what to expect. Rumor is he’s not much like our favorite star.

“You don’t have to talk to me, you know.”

Sirius kept his eyes on his eggs and toast. “Your missing your tie. Mom said—”

“What do you care?” Regulus replied. “I hear when she used to make you wear one it usually ended up around some other guy’s neck by ten in the morning.”

“If you’re going to believe everything you read on Gossip Girl about me, then maybe I won’t talk to you.”

Regulus smirked. “So, you read it, too.” 

“Boys.”

Both brothers went back to their breakfasts.

“Good morning, mom,” Sirius said.

Walburga Black smiled with her painted lips, resting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and bending to kiss his cheek.

“Don’t you both look handsome for your first day. Although that leather jacket has seen better days, Sirius. Do what you want for dinner, ask Chef, I don’t care. I’ll be at the House.”

The House. The House of Black, his mother’s million dollar fashion industry.

“Fine,” Regulus nodded, and rose. “I’ll take the first car.”

Sirius rolled his eyes again. “Really?”

Regulus just snatched up his backpack.

Saint, James, and Thomas were waiting for him on one of the courtyard tables when Sirius got out of the Escalade. It certainly felt like a first day of a semester. Saint’s neck dripped in gold necklaces—a story behind each one. Thomas, who had replaced his short braids with a closely shaved head, wore a white t-shirt and ripped up jean shorts, gold nose-ring glinting in the sun. James had evidently been helped out by Lily, as usual, a green, tight-fitting Henley shirt bunched up at his elbows. The two flanked Saint, who basked on top of the stone table, head tilted back to bare his throat in a way that made Sirius think of last night, in the back of the bar. He could see a purplish mark he had left there.

“You’re looking surprisingly chipper,” James said when Sirius reached Hogwarts’ courtyard.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, knowing he didn’t. “I’m not failing any classes yet, James.”

His friends went oddly silent. Sirius looked around at them, spreading his hands in confusion. Saint wouldn’t look at him, expression going oddly stoney. Thomas, finally, offered him his phone, biting his lip. Sirius took it.

His heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t even bother reading the Instagram caption. Remus loomed out at him from the phone screen.

“Leo Knut,” Saint said. “Who would have thought.”

Sirius cleared his throat and turned away from the picture—from Remus and Leo’s clasped hands.

“Why wouldn’t I be chipper?” he said again, and ignored their unconvinced expressions. “I’ve got class.”

Under his desk while he waited for the rest of the class to show, Sirius pulled out his phone and opened Instagram.

XOXO

Remus approached campus slowly. He felt like he didn’t know anyone anymore, even if he knew that wasn’t true. He thought he saw James from afar, but Lily and Kasey didn’t have class today.

Really, Remus didn’t know if he had many friends that weren’t…shared. That didn’t feel too close to home. Manhattan wasn’t that big of an island.

He looked down at his schedule he’d written out on his phone.

The 19th Century Novel - Hogsmeade R#302.

He made his way to the Hogsmeade building and climbed the spiral staircase quickly. It all felt too industrial, too metallic. At least he’d woken up with Leo, who still had the ancient air about him. He didn’t want that bubble to pop.

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor McGonagall beamed when he walked in, and Remus smiled, too at her familiar Scottish drawl. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s good to be—”

But the words died on Remus’ tongue. He looked out at the small class—just twenty at this high level—and his heart, out of habit it seemed, had leapt at the sight of familiar dark hair.

Uh-oh. Looks like Pyramus and Thisbe are actually wishing for a wall between them this time.

Sirius’ hair was shorter than it had been at the end of sophomore year, the last time Remus had seen him. He wore a touch of a beard, too, just scruff, really, but it framed his silver eyes like darkness to the stars—two stars, which were zeroed in on Remus.

“Back,” Remus tried to recover, mouth dry. He sent McGonagall a shaky smile, and turned to find a seat, trying not to find those stars again.

He resisted the urge to close his eyes in defeat when he realized that there was only one left. He walked towards Sirius looking ahead and with his heart pounding. Leo. Leo making pancakes for him and Julian this morning. Leo making his little brother laugh. But he could smell the worn leather of Sirius’ jacket. He remembered the feel of it around his own shoulders. Are you cold, baby?

“All righty, then,” McGonagall stood from her chair and leaned against the front of her desk, looking down her spectacles at the attendance sheet. “Looks like we’re all here.”

XOXO

“Well?” Saint asked as Sirius took the joint from between his fingers.

“Sat down next to me,” Sirius said. “Didn’t say a fucking word.”

“Did you say a fucking word?” Saint raised his eyebrows.

Sirius blew out smoke. “No.”

“Well, all right, you fucking hypocrite.”

Sirius looked over at him from where they lay side by side, stretched out in the fading sunshine of Central Park. “I’m keeping this now.”

“No, you’re not. Did you pay for that? I don’t think so.”

Sirius scoffed. “Yeah, like this made a dent in the Montague treasuries.”

Saint laughed, tucking a palm behind his head. Sirius let his eyes linger on the strip of skin where his shirt rode up. He’d kissed that last night, too. It was nice with Saint. He’d been friends with him for longer than he could remember. Saint never looked for more. If Sirius snapped at him, he snapped back and then they laughed about it. Saint wandered through the world loving people freely. He kissed them, or he made them dinner, or he took them for long walks along the river. He showed them his favorite jazz club, or gave them the orgasm of their life, or read to them from his favorite books. He was New York in human form, accepting and inviting, living and breathing.

Sirius wished he was so trusting, even if trust seemed a funny word to apply to Saint.

No one ever got too close to either of them, except the other.

“What are you wearing to your mom’s fashion show?” Saint asked with his eyes closed. “It’s the event of the season.”

“Are you joking? The fittings started in July.”

“Mm, I love that,” Saint grinned, stretching. “Want to come help me decide what I’m wearing? We’re at the Plaza right now, you know that. You know my mother. If it’s not broken, break it. We’re renovating again. We can order champagne to the room.”

“Is that code for make out?”

“Partly. But I will be showing you my outfit choices.”

“Deal.”

XOXO

Remus made it back home seeing no one, but one of the butlers had an envelope with his name on it waiting for him.

“Thanks, Moody,” Remus murmured, but thought briefly about handing it right back to him.

He knew this invitation. He knew its black boarders and heavy stock. It came ever year.

It used to be something they had looked forward to.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

invites you

TOUJOURS PUR

“Jesus,” Remus breathed, but took it up to his room, checking the time on the way. Julian would still be at school, his parents at work. This apartment was too big for the four of them, not to mention just Remus alone.

His suitcases still lay open and unpacked on his floor, and he kicked at one without looking up.

“So, did you just forget to mention that you were home?”

Remus spun towards his bed, only to find Lily sprawled across it and fiddling with an emerald on a chain.

“I had to find out from Gossip Girl?” Lily shook her head.

Remus slapped the invitation against his thigh. “Wow, wasn’t like that was a surprise present for you or anything.”

Lily smiled, red hair in a thick french braid. “I see green and I know it’s for me. What can I say?”

Remus huffed out a laugh, and she gave a small squeal and pushed off of the bed to wrap him in a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home, Re.”

He let himself rest his chin in the crook of her neck for a moment. ‘Thanks, Lils.”

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders. “What, no, me too?”

“I am,” he said tentatively. “But I had fun in Rome.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Southern fun?”

“His name is Leo,” Remus said pointedly, then eyed the pile of garment bags piled high on the other side of his bed. “Are those…”

“Pour moi, et pour toi,” Lily patted his cheek. “We have a fashion show to go to, sweetheart.”

XOXO

What do we think, Courtiers? House of Black’s fashion show is the biggest event of the fall. But what on Earth does doe-eyed Remus Lupin have to do within that dark forest now?

Is he a Bambi, or still the wolf we knew?

You know you love me.

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

[navegandoaciegas]

Broken Wings

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: You’re a small town girl with big city dreams, set on leaving Knockemstiff and its sheriff behind for good. Lee would do anything to make sure you stay with him.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, consensual sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of alcohol.

A/N: This is part 1. Part 2

I want to thank my baby @whateveriwant for your support, ily! I haven’t written anything in more than a month but it feels good to be back to it!!

Knockemstiff, 1957

The crisp air of the night hit your exposed legs when you swung them over the window sill, and a shiver ran down your spine as humidity seeped into your bones.

From your bedroom on the second floor, you could make out the shape of the Sheriff’s car hidden behind the line of trees near your father’s shed, and a bittersweet, faint smile spread on your painted lips. Fastening the clasp from the outside, you climbed down the drain pipes, savoring the thrill of it all one last time.

No more Knockestiff, sneaking out of your bedroom, shotgunning while he patrolled the streets, milkshakes and burgers propped on your things and Johnny Cash playing in the background, drowned by your giggles and his laughs. You wouldn’t get to call the sheriff yours anymore, and you would never spend another moment writhing in pleasure under his warm, soft body.

You loved Lee Bodecker in spite of everything he stood for, but not even the love of your life could keep you anchored to this town. Tomorrow you’d be far, far away, and God himself couldn’t stop you if he tried.

You’d promised your mother that you wouldn’t end up withering away with no chances and no future like she had. Like everyone who was touched by the curse of Knockemstiff did.

“Spread your wings and fly far, far away,” she’d hiccup between sobs each time you’d drag her limp body from the couch to her bed, the stench of alcohol and stale cigarettes oozing out of her skin, “my pretty little butterfly.”

Your mother would have sold her soul to the Devil to see you out of Knockemstiff.

A new beginning awaited you in New York. A job as a librarian, an apartment to share with one of your college girlfriends, a prospect, a future.

Hope, freedom, opportunities.

The pipe creaked under your weight, but you paid no mind to it. Moonshine would have knocked out cold anyone in the house by now.

Scurrying down the gravel road, you found Lee waiting for you, a smug smile on his clean shaven face and a brown paper bag in his arms.

“About damn time, dove. Been freezing my ass over here, waitin’ on ya.”

You flung yourself in his arms, knocking him back against the car’s hood, savoring the musky scent of his cologne one last time.

“Hello, Sheriff.”

His chest vibrated with a fond chuckle, and you looked up to him, trying to etch every line of his handsome face to your memory.

In another life, the adoration in his blue eyes would have changed your mind.

“Missed me?” he teased you, one arm snaking around your waist, holding you flush to his front. The other came up to your face, cradling your cheek in his palm.

You could feel his soft belly against you. His shirts fit tighter now than when you’d started dating, and his stomach was beginning to bulge over his belt buckle.

“More than you can imagine.” you sighed, offering him a weak smile.

Maybe he missed the melancholy in your voice, or maybe he’d made his peace with your mood swings long ago, because he didn’t comment on it, simply placing a soft kiss on your forehead and pushing you back, thrusting the bag in your arms.

“Let’s get inside dove. These streets ain’t gonna patrol ‘emselves.”

The inside of his car was always warm, and smelled like him.

He drove around while you fed him fries, and you talked until your mouths ran dry.

Guilt gripped your heart when he mentioned a future together.

You knew he’d picked a ring, voices spread fast in small towns. He wanted the white picket fence, a pretty housewife and kids.

You were selfish and cruel and revelled in his love and affection for months, knowing damn well you’d never give him what he desired most.

“You okay? You seem distracted.” he quipped, hand squeezing your thigh.

Your conscience screamed at you to talk to him, but your mouth stayed sealed. There were no words to make this easy on him, so you’d make it easier on yourself.

He’d hate you, at first, but he’d move on, find some other nice girl and settle down with her.

She’d be pretty, and good to him, and she’d love him for the rest of her days.

“I’m okay, you know me. My head’s always up ‘n the clouds. College,” you deepened your voice, mocking your father’s words, “makes ‘m kids airheads.”

His eyes crinkled when he laughed. You’d miss the sound.

“I know, my little dove’s always flying higher than the rest of this shitty town.”

It was bitter, really, that the one you loved the most was what kept you chained to the ground, where you didn’t belong.

You were meant for the sky, his little dove, your mother’s butterfly.

Spread your wings, you reminded yourself, and fly far, far away.

-

You swore time flew by faster when you spent it with Lee, and minutes melted into hours, slipping through your fingers.

You wished you had more.

When he pulled over to an all too familiar clearing in the woods, your body acted on its own accord, and you climbed in the back seat like you’d done most nights for months.

Those trees had seen you in all states of undress, fucked in the car or on the hood, on your knees, on your back, on your stomach, with his cock down your throat or in your cunt, his face between your legs or on the crook of your neck.

Everything made you melancholic, everything reminded you about what you were about to give up.

It was selfish, but you’d allow yourself to forget all about the future for the moment being.

Just you and Lee, just a moment longer before reality would inevitably hit you like a bucket of iced water.

You and the love of your life that you’d betray once morning came.

But in the dark, underneath the stars and the moon, he was still yours, and you were his.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful baby, God, I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.”

You ignored the guilt once again, and straddled his lap. Grabbing him by his tie, you slanted your mouth against his. He parted his lips with a sigh, resting his back against the seat.

“Fuck, dove, you’re so good to me.” he mumbled, calloused hands roaming over your body.

A moan escaped your lips when his strained cock rubbed against your flimsy undergarments, and you arched your back, seeking more friction to soothe your aching core.

Warmth pooled in your lower belly, and slick gathered in your panties.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and pulled him impossibly close to feel everything, his warmth and his scent, his soft body and his rough hands.

Teeth clattering, bruising touches, heaving chests. The windows were getting fogged up by your hot breaths, and the metal creaked and clattered under your weights.

Desperation and arousal clouded your mind, and you looked at him through half lidded eyes, hoping he couldn’t read into your soul.

“Lee, baby, I need to feel you, I need you inside me,” you whined, unbuttoning his shirt and tugging on his belt impatiently.

You were desperate to feel his cock inside you, to have his hands leave bruises and his mouth leave marks on your skin one last time. Be his, be one in the flesh, one last time.

“So eager, you’d think I was Paul Newman or somethin’,” he chuckled, kneading the flesh of your ass.

“Much better than Newman, Brando or whatever they worship in Hollywood now.” you panted through sloppy kisses, hand dipping inside his briefs, his weight heavy and hot against your palm.

He hissed through his teeth, eyes rolling to the back of his brain. “What are you butterin’ me up for, dove?”

A beautiful moan escaped his lips when you doubled your efforts, wrist twisting around the velvety skin of his shaft, working his sensitive tip.

“I don’t need flattery to get me anythin’ baby, just these hands and lips.”

You popped your lips to emphasize your point, and let your tongue run along his bottom lip, taking it between yours and sucking on it.

He lifted your shirt with a swift motion, and the growl that he let out when he didn’t find any bra sent a thrill through you, straight to your throbbing core.

He groped your tits, squeezing until the line between pleasure and pain became too blurred to distinguish. You gasped when he rolled and pinched your nipples between his fingers, and mewled when his mouth closed down on one of them.

His tongue swirled around the stiff bud, teeth barely grazing the delicate skin.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath against your neck, and in a blur you found yourself laying on your back, his body caging you in.

“Don’t forget about this pussy, baby, I’d do anything for it.”

Your giggles turned to cries once his hand found its way between your legs, his name falling from your lips like a prayer while he caressed the hair on your mound.

He beamed proudly, feeling the wet patch on your undergarments, and dipped in your folds, spreading the slick around your entrance, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

His lips tasted like candy and strawberry milkshake, and you savored them as long as you could while your tongue intertwined with his.

You laughed when he knocked his head on the door, and then his knees on the floorboard.

“Can’t wait till we have a bed.” He groaned, already breathless while he fumbled with his pants, shoving them down his legs in a hurry.

Sadness filled you again, because one day he’d have a big, comfortable bed, but you wouldn’t be the one warming it.

You blinked away the tears as you clung to his shoulders.

When he breached your entrance, you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

You’d never gotten used to the stretch of his girth, and you wondered if anyone else would ever feel this right inside you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips stilling once he’s sheathed himself inside you, “God, you’re so tight.”

You felt like you were bursting at the seams, your walls quivering around his cock.

He rolled his hips tentatively, observing your face for any signs of pain, and started pounding inside you once he’d found none.

The burn soon turned into a pleasant ache.

“I’m a lucky bastard,” he snarled, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips, “I can’t wait to have you all to myself, dove.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and didn’t notice how your lips quivered, or the tears that streamed down your face. He kept thrusting inside you, moaning each time he would feel your walls gripping his cock tightly.

Damp skin slid over yours, filling the car with the lewd sounds of his balls slapping your ass, and his belly smacking against yours.

“I’m gonna put so many babies inside you, I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my child. Fuck-, I can’t wait to come home to you everyday, my pretty little wife.”

You let yourself revel in the image. A pleasant, safe one. One that didn’t belong to you, but that warmed your heart anyways.

When the pressure in your core became too much for you to bear, you began blabbering and begging him to give you that release only he had ever given you.

“Please Lee, I need to- need to cum, baby.”

You choked on your words and shrieked when his hand dipped between your bodies, and he began rubbing circles around your clit.

“Cum for me, dove, cum all over my cock, wanna feel you fall apart on me baby.” he growled, hips stuttering.

He swallowed your cries with a kiss as you came undone. Your whole body trembled when hot waves of pleasure shook your limbs, the tight coil in your cunt unravelling all at once, releasing the pressure inside you.

You throbbed and gushed around his cock, arching your back and digging your nails in the flesh of his back.

He kept pounding inside you, riding your aftermath and praising his good girl through shuddering breaths.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whined, and you felt his movements become errantic and his cock swell inside you.

“Finish up outside,” you managed to wheeze out.

He grunted, but obeyed regardless.

Knocking you up before he got a preacher’s blessing wouldn’t look good on his resume if he was to ever be mayor. Otherwise you’d have had a child on your hip already, you suspected.

You winced when he pulled out, and stood on his shins, hovering over you, brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

You brought your hand down to his cock, and you stoked him once, twice, running your thumb over his slit before his hips stuttered and he painted your stomach with his white, warm load.

He collapsed next to you, holding you tight in his arms and catching his breath.

“You’re gonna be all mine soon, dove,” he whispered in your ear, rubbing his nose against yours, “and I’m gonna fill your pussy up every night, I swear. No more pulling out ever again.”

-

Freedom tasted bittersweet.

Corn fields gave way to tarmac too soon, and before you realized it, you’d left Knockemstiff and your old life behind, in hope of a new, better one

You rested against the window, your head rattling on the screen with each bump on the road. The stench of stale cigarettes, moonshine breath first thing in the morning and sweat filled the packed bus, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

The prospect of your future terrified you and thrilled you to no end.

You observed the cars speeding past the bus, and the streams of dried tears on your face in your reflection. Your mind swirled with thoughts, the images of Lee torturing you. Sighing to yourself, you clutched the handkerchief that the woman besides you had gently offered with a kind, knowing smile on her face.

Better forget all about him as soon as possible.

New beginnings were hard, but hope blossomed in your chest with each mile that went by. Besides, your mother’s smile when she’d waved you goodbye had given you all the strength you needed.

You let the gentle sway of the bus lull you to sleep.

She’d never looked so happy and beautiful, bathed in dawn’s warmth with her Sunday dress she’d worn to see her biggest wish come true.

Her butterfly had finally spread her wings.

-

Part 2 (hopefully coming out tomorrow)

-

So what do you think is going to happen in the next chapter? 🤭

I hope you liked it! I haven’t written in so long, but I hope it’s good. Please leave some feedback if you can, and reblog!

[justiceleaque]

Hey Leaque! I know you watched the new Justice League movie and I was around when you were doing the very first DC movie reviews back in the day. I would absolutely love a review of this one if you have the time :)

i've been a fan of Snyder's universe from day 1 so i understand this might be considered an off-balance review already, but i want to note that i didn't come in wanting the film to be good or willing to see it as good despite actual impressions. i wanted to watch it as the Justice League movie i was supposed to get back in 2017, the same one i was willing to not watch for years if it meant Zack Snyder got to finish his vision even later down the line

i was actually as neutral as i could possibly get because at this point i don't have any real emotional involvement in whether this version of the DCEU continues or not. WB execs have done some fucked up things with the treatment of the cast/ray fisher, so i take this as Snyder's DC trilogy and nothing more (which makes it bittersweet for me but that's a different topic)

heavy spoilers follow

it's incredibly comic book-like. i remember typing the exact same words back in the Dawn of Justice days: it doesn't read as a superhero film a la Marvel but as a comic book film. each frame could be a realistically painted comic book frame; the dialogues would fit freakishly well if they had to fit speech bubbles. the damn scene overlaps and changes are heavily reminiscent of a comic book. better yet: of a Justice League comic book. if you’re familiar with comic book events where big things happen and it affects everyone, this is how this reads

it’s a heavy film but it’s not hopeless. i’ve been seeing reviews pop-up already: “ZS’s Justice League film is twice as longe and twice as hopeless” is the maybe verbatim title of most articles. the one thing i kept thinking throughout these four hours is how much hope this is filled with. we’re dealing with a post-superman world that was shaken by the loss of a beloved superhero and you see batman, the #1 comic book superhero known for brooding and darkness and all things sad and bad, be the loudest, most hopeful person in the film, trying to get a team together to save the world, and later on being two steps from literally screaming that bringing back superman is what should happen no matter the cost because of his faith and hope in winning. did we watch the same film?

in the same vein, the 4 hours seem like a stretch until you realize each part has an actual purpose that introduces or ties in important aspects related to the film’s one purpose: take down Steppenwolf and Darkseid. i don’t believe any scene was wasted on useless information. it can get tiring in the way watching a shot tv series gets tiring: it does NOT get boring at any point

such wonderful character arcs. seeing each of the team’s personalities and quirks, the way they clash with each other, the way it makes it all work so goddamn beautifully. the way they click because they just keep interacting so much? Whedon’s cut didn’t give me a team, it gave me five different people in costume that were forced to sort of work in the same vicinity as each other. Snyder’s cut gave me a version of the Justice League that worked so flawlessly together by the end of the film it felt like a dance. felt like comic book page spreads

right before the epilogue they all pose together in the rising dawn, clark included, having won. super reminiscent of the JL cartoon intro. i cried a bit

J’ONN J’ONZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DO YOU KNOW THE AMOUNT OF SPECULATION ABOUT GENERAL SWANWICK BEING THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER BACK WHEN MAN OF STEEL WAS RELEASED???? VINDICATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

listen to me. i need to make this clear. listen.  j’onn. j’onny boy. the way he’s designed and cgi’d..........the adorable frown............the kind smile......................his obvious need to make others feel better and to simply help......................i love him

his interaction with bruce only comes in the end and it’s super brief but seeing those two still not know how the hell each other works even in film format is hilarious. bruce having accepted aliens and magic and shit is the new norm after like 20 years of only having to deal with the joker attempting to rob neon green hair dyes or some shit is so much bigger of a character development than i ever expected, especially coming from BvS where he’s just a stupid fat-bat-carrying onion

i wasn’t a big fan of Suicide Squad’s joker portrayal but we get to see him at the end of the film while we’re seeing a possible future where lois lane has died and superman is best friends with darkseid playing tic-tac-antilife equation. Snyder somehow managed to turn jared leto into a disgustingly legit comic-faithful joker. dont’ ask me how

in the same scene they mention jason and his death

: - (

we see a few bits of some green lanterns in some scenes, one from the past and one from a possible ultra dark and edgy darkseid future. still convinced bruce simply willingly did not go looking for hal, which, fair

they cut out the fish joke bruce tells arthur when they first meet which immediately turns the whole film into a 1/10 for me

ben affleck’s bruce wayne and batman continue being my favorite on-screen batman iteration to date. we finally move from the usual dark lone soldier version Hollywood is relentlessly giving us into one that belongs with the Justice League. incredibly heartwarming to see

there’s a scene when the JL are first assaulting Steppenwolf’s base and they’re all fighting parademons and shit and there’s a moment where you see batman fighting the Space SWAT From Hell alone and the way he moves? the way he flows from one position to another and another like i’m watching a damn comic book animation????????? sir????????????????????

barry allen saved them

like, literally, barry allen saved them. superman was back and everyone was ready to dance one final time and they were all going ‘steppenwolf fucking SUCKS’ and steppenwolf was crying to darkseid and then the motherboxes did their thing and they all were obliterated into star dust and then barry allen was like ‘bitch i told you i need FRIENDS’ and turned back time and now they’re all okay again :o)

darkseid @ batman through his magic spacetime portal: i’m gonna get your ass one day soon and take you back in time and you’re gonna eventually bring about the end of the world by having every dark twisted batman invade your universe because you inspired them

batman:

batman:

batman: i haven’t read Rebirth bro

i know i’m forgetting stuff but that’s the gist. hands down one of the best comic book film experiences i’ve ever had. with an aside to barry allen being more of a mix of barry and wally, everyone feels incredibly faithful to the source material. also batman definitely killed like, at least 400 parademons in one night, but pest control doesn’t count

(like. he straight up obliterates them)

(pulls out a batbazuka on them)

(amazing)

[astro-rain]

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

-

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

-

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

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