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swee7dream · 8 days ago

Note

Hi! Would like to request a jaehyun/jeno fluff piece inspired by ABBA's "Does Your Mother Know" ? :) Thank you!

does your mother know ? retro!college athlete!jeong yoonoh x female!reader

genres fluff, meet-cute, college!au, pseudo-historical setting (50s-60s) triggers mentions of alcohol ? jaehyun HAS been with other people before you i'm so sorry dear reader i'll kill him for not saving himself for you note ignore the fact i haven't written in months ... this legit was supposed to come out in october but c'est la vie idk . listen along w the song for a better experience :) thank you SO SO SO SO SO x127 much for the request . i'm honored you trust me to execute your ideas properly

Nice nose bridge, sharp jawline, dimples easy to adore: all characteristics that can be used to describe Jeong Yoonoh.

The way that his mother doted on him the minute he was born built a strong foundation for good self-esteem.

He’s well-versed in the practice of rejecting girls or dating them for just the right duration before breaking up amicably using just the right words. He knows a smile will get him an extra bread roll from the lunch lady and a soft gaze can calm down an enraged team member in denial of his culpability of a foul.

Jaehyun is subtle.

He drops a leaf instead of a pebble to see the ripple effect on the waters. He knows just what he can get away with right before people’s eyes and what he has to sneak around for behind their backs.

He would almost say he’s perfected the art, if not for his mother’s tight-knit connections to his university professors.

“Just because you’re on a sports scholarship doesn’t mean your grades aren’t important, Yoonoh.”

“I know, Mama. I’m keeping a close eye on them.” Jaehyun pretends not to hear the unsure hum from the woman.

Soft-spoken yet heavy-handed, his mother is an elegant, traditional woman who doesn’t tolerate a featherweight of disrespect. And so the sigh caught in his lung escapes as a cough as he does the latches on his suitcase and pulls it off the blue bedsheets.

“Thank you for letting me stop by.” He kisses her cheek. “I didn’t realize how many things I forgot to pack the first time around until I was actually back in the dorms.”

“Don’t thank me yet, son.” Soft, well-moisturized hands that smell of roses pat his cheek, the sly tone of her voice piercing like thorns into his subconscious. “I haven’t even told you the good news yet. I got you a tutor.”

“…a tutor?” It’s only half a second’s worth of a reaction, his eyebrows quickly twitching back to their normal position, but it’s too late. She already saw. “F-For what?”

“Yes.” She smiles. “Because I hear whispers from your brothers—” and other sources “—that your games have been gathering too much of your focus. Remember you that school with you, don’t give them a bad reputation.”

“No, Mama. I won’t.” Jaehyun feels like a puppet when his arms come up against his will to wrap around his not-so-frail mother. You’d think after eight children she’d at least be more gentle.

—

A letterman’s jacket in the school’s lemon green color isn’t a rare sight anywhere on campus. Anywhere except the library, that is.

Seeing all of the physics and engineering students hunched over their books in their dreary browns and blacks makes Jaehyun feel like a neon green highlighter. It hangs on the back of his chair not unsimilar to a white, droopy flag of surrender.

He’s not a particularly bad student. He wouldn’t be getting valedictorian, but he does well for himself. There really is no reason for a tutor. That’s just silly. He could study with his usual group of friends or a pretty girl he met at an away game. Maybe it won’t be so bad, Jaehyun relents; maybe this study session will turn into a study date with a doll with soft and plush lips.

Mid-daydream, Qian Kun comes huffing and puffing behind until collapsing somehow gracefully in the seat in front of Jaehyun.

“Sorry I’m late, Yoonoh.” He smiles brightly, pushing up his glasses with one of his knuckles before quickly taking out his things from his bag. “One of my brother’s cats did its business in one of my shoes, so I had to change shoes but my other brother stole the new ones I planned to wear instead so I had to start a whole new outfit from scratch! And then of course my sister asked for a ride to the basketball game later; I told her I’d think about it but she’s just so- well, you know how having siblings is.”

When he looks up it startles Jaehyun. He had been rambling for so long that he felt he was just listening to a radio show.

“…yeah. I get it. Don’t worry.” He sits up properly, copying the straight manner Kun has all of his pens lined up. “Should we start?”

Qian Kun, the eldest of seven siblings, is the closest thing Jaehyun has to a childhood friend at this stage of his life. The first victim of a rich couple’s philanthropic streak, he’s the poster child of adoptees, inspiring them to pluck six other children of unfortunate origin like hats off a window display before cruising over to the Middle East after hearing whispers of archaeological prestige.

Jaehyun specifically chose to move into the dorms to get away from the white picket fences and champagne nights at least for a handful of years. However, it seemed he had forgotten that ‘Coke-Bottle glasses’ Qian Kun became ‘Neo University pre-med student’ Qian Kun one year before him.

What a drag… Jaehyun’s dream girl with messy hair tied up into a bun with cute little glasses seems to have grown wings and flown far, far away into the same space that America and the USSR are fighting to reach.

“Oh, rats!” A snap from Coke-Bottle Glasses brings Jaehyun back to the present.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking down at the hand-written message taken down by the librarian. She came and left like the wind, sitting in the exact position Jaehyun had seen her in when he entered the library an hour ago. “My sister called. I told her I had plans but she’s threatening me to take her to the game tonight otherwise she’ll spill ink on my new Vonnegut. I’m really sorry, Yoonoh.”

“Oh.” Nice. “It’s fine, Kun. I appreciate you setting aside time from your schedule for this. Go ahead.”

“I’ll make up for it! I promise. See you around.”

It appears that rushing around is a common sight for Kun, none of the others in the library giving him a second glance at his messy exit.

—

There’s a real pretty girl with bright red lipstick who always seems to sit closest to the balcony of the school basketball court's second level. Jaehyun feels the way her eyes follow him, not breaking contact even when he looks back up at her. Rather than blush and look away, he’s met with a wolf-like smile.

He wonders what his neck would look like with her kiss stains left on his skin.

“You comin’?” He asks, pushing his damp hair out of his face and landing his hands on his hips. There's a cocky smile escaping the side of his mouth, holding hope that the game wouldn't be his only win of the night.

“Where?” Her eyes sparkle with a danger that gets his heartbeat back up to the same speed he had during the match.

“Party at my buddy’s place. You’ll like it.”

“I will?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know that for sure?”

“I’ll be there.”

“…which buddy, captain?”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“That’s my name, pretty. Use it or I won’t find you the next time we meet.”

It’s an exhilarating feeling to see her weaken, her grip on the handrail loosen, and her eyes widen. It was only for half a second, but that was more than enough. He already noticed.

“Better yet, do you already have a ride?”

When she shakes her head, Jaehyun beams.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to my car.”

—

You hate autumn. You’re freezing in the morning, melting in the afternoon, and rechilled once the sun has set.

Even with your stockings, the breeze of October stabs at your legs and you try your best to ignore the memory of your brother insisting you wear a longer skirt.

“How long have you been playing?” You ask, trailing a step behind Jaehyun. Bottom lip caught in between your teeth, you keep your thoughts about the new charm you find in him out of his basketball uniform to yourself. His white polo is crisp and you wonder if he ever even gets it dirty.

“A little while,” the upperclassman replies while your eyes wander down to his slacks, tan and elegant. It reminds you of a leather bag your mother brought you from one of her trips. However, the bag has more volume than him. “How long have you been watching me?”

The sly tone in his voice makes you scoff.

“I haven’t been watching you, I’ve been watching the games. The fact that you play them isn’t a major factor.”

“You’re a big basketball fan?” He turns to you, and his dimples draw you in like a whirlpool you have no chance of getting out of.

“Huge.” You’re sure you look like a klutz; you couldn’t take the stars out of your eyes even if you tried. “You?”

“Uh, I dunno.” His head drops to the side, black silky locks falling into his line of sight. “I’ve gotten into something new lately.”

“What’s that?” Before you even realize it, your hand is coming up to brush his hair back. “You don’t use pomade?”

“No.” You feel your pulse beat against the palm of his hand when he takes your wrist. “I don’t like how it smells. But this new… interest of mine. She smells pretty nice.”

Does your body know something you don’t know? The way you let yourself be pulled, you feel like you’re soaring through the skies with your feet fully planted on the ground. Tasting crisp mint off Jaehyun’s lips, smelling his scent of musk and pears, feeling the cashmere of his sweater; it’s an overwhelming experience that makes your head spin.

When you separate, you find him just as out of breath as you, painted a pretty shade of red.

“Wanna sit down?”

—

The streets you’ve walked your whole life look so different through the window of Jaehyun’s red Thunderbird. It makes you feel less like the girl who skipped class to the point you almost repeated your junior year of high school and more like one of the middle-aged women of your neighborhood, riding luxury cars from their children’s Ivy League schools to balls and galas by the waterfront.

You’ve kissed boys before. Your first kiss was under the slide of your elementary school with Choi Taeyang from the class next door to yours, and your second with Eric Sohn from your seventh-grade chemistry class. Your brothers call you promiscuous, you call them lonely, lonely children in return. Despite your past experiences, no one has been able to get you wrapped around their finger as fast as Neo University’s 77.

“The car smells like you,” you say once you’ve parked, keeping the two of you in your own hidden corner of the world despite a party going full force less than 200 feet away. With your back to the house of flashing lights, all you can see before you is the thick woods through the windshield and the slight halo that glows around Jaehyun’s dark silhouette.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yeah. I mean, after the smell of sweat subsides, you smell like a magazine.”

“The smell of sweat?” He smiles, radiating light still despite the dark. “I smell of sweat?”

“It’s kinda strong.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I mean, you’re handsome enough for people to ignore it.”

“But you didn’t.” He leans in and you can smell the spearmint of his gum making your nerves go haywire again. “Am I not handsome enough for you?”

“You’re alright.” You bite down a giggle. “I think I’m a couple notches higher.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“…maybe you’re right,” he replies after his eyes linger a couple of seconds too long on your lips. “And I mean, you don’t smell like sweat either.”

“Yeah.” You shrug and the small movement brushes the tips of your noses together, the sensation tickling and spreading out to the rest of your face. “I mean, I actually shower.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he hums. “You smell like soap… and caramel.”

“Caramel apple.” You bat your lashes.

“Ah, yeah. That’s the note I was missing.”

“Many do.”

“Lots of people get to have you this close?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Don’t play with me, girl. You already know I want you.”

With your newly found experience, you gather that the way Jaehyun kisses is hungry yet, at the same time, somehow refined. He’s slow and gentle but is always prepping you for more, like a slow uphill climb that will soon send you rolling down at light speed.

His lips are smooth from peppermint lip balm and his tongue tastes like spearmint gum. Each and every second of kissing Jeong Jaehyun is chilling like an ice bath that gets all of your adrenaline up in a single second.

Slender fingers are gentle on your jaw when he pulls you away, almost as if he was the one who needed to stop before he couldn’t stop himself from doing something he knows he shouldn’t do.

“I need a drink.” He sighs. His brown eyes shiver before you as if he’s about to explode if he doesn’t leave the stuffy, heated car.

“…I think I need some water myself.”

—

Johnny Suh is not a member of any sports team or famed club. He’s just a simple economics major with lots—and lots—of connections. Being Johnny Suh’s friend is gold in social currency. It can get you notes from students who took the class before you, tickets to a sold-out pep rally, and even the name of that one fetching individual you never caught the name of in your 8 a.m. Monday lectures back in the second semester of your first year. Most envied, however, are the invite-only parties at his family cabin.

With surround-sound radios and jukeboxes found only at the types of restaurants men in tailored, pinstripe suits eat at, Johnny’s cabin parties are objectively seen as the bee’s knees.

“How did you get in here?” You look around the dimly lit living room, hanging off Jaehyun’s arm. Apparently, somebody partied a little too hard and jacked up the electricity. Lucky for everyone else, that means the icebox needs to be emptied before all the soda gets flat. Unfortunately for everyone else, Mark Lee brought his guitar just in case of a situation like this.

“I’m close with the host, like brothers, you could say.” He guides you into the kitchen, and you see smoke coming out of the hallway that you think leads to the bedrooms. “What do you like to drink?”

“Just a soda for me, thanks.”

“Just a soda?” He raises his eyebrows before going to open the icebox. “Lucky me, I get a pretty girl to drive me home tonight.”

It seems that Jaehyun knows this place just as well as or better than his own home, handing you your ginger ale, opening it first, and immediately finding the beer opener in a drawer you didn’t even realize was a drawer.

“You don’t drink?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I tried it but it wasn’t for me. Besides, my brothers let me get away with a lot of things but alcohol seems to be the line for them.”

“How come?”

“They say I’m too young still, but Kunhang started when he was my age too so I don’t know what that’s all about.” You roll your eyes.

“Kunhang?”

“My brother,” you explain.

“Ah…” He nods. “I might’ve gone to school with him. His name sounds familiar.”

“God, I hope not.” You hide your laugh behind your soda can. “He’s a total weirdo.”

“You’re not particularly average either.” He raises his eyebrows at you before taking a sip.

“I’m gonna take that as you mean I’m an above-average beauty and intellectual.” You glare at him.

“The beauty part is obvious. I might have to take you out a couple more times to see about the intellectual part.”

“I get good grades. Unlike you, captain.”

“And what evidence do you have for that claim?” He pouts like a child facing the grave injustice of not having candy for supper.

“You can’t be handsome and good at sports and be a top student. You have to be a little thick-skulled otherwise the Lord isn’t fair,” you tease.

“Maybe I am. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You slap at his arm with a groan, Jaehyun’s laugh is heard only for a second before more voices enter the kitchen and drown it out.

“Thank God you’re here!” A high-pitched voice calls out.

In the dark, you can only see a messy head of hair being carried on the back of Jung Sungchan.

“Jaehyun,” he sighs. “Please take him. I don’t know if he’s drunk or accidentally took something but it’s like a baby turned the size of a grown man.”

“Baby!” The person being carried finally raises their head. You recognize him; he's that guy from your civics class. What was his name again?

“Haechan.” Jaehyun walks up to pat him on the cheek. It reminds you of how he held yours back in the car, but unlike back then, there’s a force that makes Haechan groan in pain. “Stop using Sungchan as a free ride when you don’t feel like walking. If you’re tired, go lay down.”

“I don’t wanna…” he whines, and you can’t help but make a face at the childlike tantrum. “I'm gonna party ‘till the sun’s up!”

“No way. Not while you still live with Mama. You don’t know what she’ll do if you’re not home by midnight.”

“I’ll just tell her I’m staying with you for the night!” Haechan rubs his face into Sungchan’s shoulder. The latter looks just as uncomfortable as you amid the conversation, looking around and nodding at you in greeting.

“Drop him, Sungchan. He’s fine.”

Haechan squeals in the most effeminate way possible. It makes you wonder how he could possibly be related to Jaehyun.

“You’re so mean, I hate you!” He complains from the floor.

“Just take this Kool-Aid and settle down.” Jaehyun clicks his tongue.

“Hi.” Sungchan gets your attention when he raises his hand awkwardly, deciding it’s polite to have a verbal introduction rather than just a nod. “I’m Sungchan.”

“Sungchan’s my brother’s teammate on the soccer team. He also does the job of his babysitter on nights like this.” Jaehyun sighs, slotting back to standing behind you with his hand ghosting over your forearm. It feels like some sort of protective measure against his eccentric brother, but you don’t have any mind to voice a complaint.

“I know you!” Haechan points at you, and even in the dark, you can see a spiked Kool-Aid mustache on his top lip. The finger pointing at your heart makes you step back for a second, and your mind rushes to see if you have any memory of wronging him.

“Uh, yeah,” You decide to answer once you’ve decided that no, you haven’t had any bad (or really any) interactions with Haechan. “We share a class.”

“Yeah! You’re Yangyang’s brother’s sister!”

“I’m… also Yangyang’s sister. But, yeah. That’s me.”

“Yangyang’s brother… um…” Haechan presses his fingers to his forehead as if he had a button there to activate the exact memory he’s searching for. “Kun!” He shouts.

“Kun…!” You repeat, unsure whether to try and match his energy or not. “Yup. That sure is my brother.”

“Kun is your brother?” Jaehyun turns to you. “Qian Kun?”

“Yeah.” You frown. “Why’d you say it like that?”

“I knew it!”

“Is that a problem?” You ignore Haechan.

“Yes. No-” Jaehyun stutters. “Maybe. Most likely.”

“Why does my brother’s name matter? Did you kiss my brother too?” You poke and prod.

“Obviously not.” He sighs. “I need a smoke.”

Left stranded in a foreign house with foreign people, you are left frozen in shock. The night was going so well, but all of a sudden, your brother was the problem? You’ll kill him.

“Jae-!” You call out through the crowd. “Jaehyun!”

“Hey…” Your same wrist that Jaehyun’s hand warmed when he kissed you in the parking lot of the school gymnasium is now cold in the hand of your brother. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here, Yang? Let go!” You flail your arm around but his grip is solid.

“Does Kun know you’re here?”

“I said I would be with my friends!”

“Well, where are they?” He frowns.

“I need to go, Yangyang.” You sigh.

—

The buzz of excitement Jaehyun felt outside of the lake house with you has dulled into nerves and anxiety about what’s to come.

He wishes he could be like the smoke from his cigarette, disappearing up into the sky. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable consequences of hooking up with his tutor’s sister.

He’d gotten too confident. He’s kissed girls under streetlights and behind bleachers, but it was all when both parties were under the influence. A kiss here and a touch there meant nothing when the sun came up, smiling politely to each other as any two strangers who meet eyes do when they walk past each other on campus. It was unspoken but obvious; this doesn’t mean anything, this spark will die with the fireflies of the night.

But tonight is different.

For some reason, looking at you is all he needs to jolt back to life. Even though he’s not supposed to keep this fling going past sunrise, he’s here, standing alone with his thoughts, trying to brainstorm a way to keep you until tomorrow and then some. Maybe on a date where you two can walk down the path of fire-colored, falling leaves, talking about everything and nothing at all as you stop by a coffee shop and he can see whether you like coffee or tea, if you like sugar or milk.

Jaehyun sighs, his breath appearing and disappearing before his eyes.

When did he get so covetous?

—

“He left you in a party full of people you don’t know. What would you have done if I weren’t here?”

“He didn’t leave me, he just needed to step out for a second!”

“Sure he didn’t. Why did he have to step out?”

“I don’t know!” You yell back, pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyes. The people dancing around you look over their shoulders at you for only a moment before returning to their partners. “The weird guy from Ethics mentioned Kun and he got all stiff and just dashed! This is all because of you. You are getting in the way and Kun is getting in the way and Dery is getting in the way. How do you manage to ruin my life even when you’re not even here?!”

“Hey.” Yangyang hovers his hand above your shoulder but retracts it on second thought. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think I should take you home. I was about to head out about now either way…”

“I don’t want to leave.” You shake your head, slumped over. “I want to wait for Jaehyun.”

“Jaehyun? Which-? The Jaehyun on the basketball team?”

You nod, hoping the voice of Connie Francis is loud enough to hide your sniffling.

“He brought me here. He has to take me home too.” You pause. “He… has to take responsibility. He can’t just leave me here, planted. He can’t just dump me here. He can’t!”

Yangyang does what he does best when you’re upset: stand at a distance close enough where he can be around to hear any requests you have of him yet far enough not to catch any of the heat you spit as you speed through a sluggish depression into a fervent fury.

“Yeah. Yeah, you… yeah.” He drops his hands to his sides. “I- I can go find him if you want-”

“No! I’m going to find him, okay?! I’ll find him and I’ll kick him in the crotch for treating me like this. What is his problem?” You finally raise your head to face Yangyang with the one expression he avoids the most.

Seeing the back of Jaehyun’s bowling-ball-sized head irritates you to the point that your muscles all tense at once. Even though you stomp on the gravel on purpose, he doesn’t turn around, and before you even realize what you’re doing, your hand has already made contact with his scalp.

“What the-” He looks up at you dumbfounded, crouched still in pain.

“Shut up!” You yell at him. “You do not get to just dump me in a party you brought me to. Who do you think I am? I don’t know anybody here.”—A lie, but he doesn’t know that.—“I came here for you and because of you. You were going to leave, weren’t you? You were gonna leave me here, stranded, and what was I supposed do? Catch a cab with your freak brother to get home? You must have me confused with somebody else because I’m not that kind of girl.”

“My… freak… what?”

“You better answer me right now or I will make sure you don’t have children, Jeong.”

“I-” Instinctively, his hands come in front of the middle of his legs. “Wait, listen-”

The crickets fill the silence Jaehyun didn’t expect from you, instead being met by your eyebrows high on your face.

“What?”

“I honestly didn’t think you would hear me out.”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“No! No, I mean, yes. I mean-” He sighs. “I do have something to say. I just… had the music bursting my ears and I couldn’t think. But, I have it now. Will you listen to what I have to say?”

“...” You stare at him. “Go on.”

There’s hesitation when he moves his hands, standing up straight and turning to face you head-on, yet his gaze goes everywhere except your eyes.

“It’s complicated.” He drops his shoulders. “Our circles are more intertwined than I thought and it could become a big deal if things go awry-”

“Intertwined like what?”

“Your… brother tutors me.”

“Kun tutors you?”

“Yes.” He gulps.

“…so you are thick-skulled.”

The buzzing inside Jaehyun’s brain stops in an instant, your little quip practically forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re clearly trying to stay upset, but the corners of your mouth are fighting to go up, making Jaehyun smile the same.

“I guess… a little bit, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head before realizing it’s still stinging from your slap of righteousness. “My parents know his- your parents. Something about a mentorship in a hospital in the city being guaranteed if he helps me out. I don’t wanna ruin stuff for him, or you, if we don’t… you know.”

“Oh my gosh. The Jeongs.” You sit on the graveled ground, immediately regretting your decision as the stones poke at your skirt, but don’t bother getting up. “You’re their kid? I didn’t remember there being a Jeong Jaehyun.”

“It’s a nickname. No one here really knows because I don’t treat it like one.” He slides his back on the wall to sit beside you. “Yoonoh just didn’t fit me. It doesn’t fit me.”

“I think it’s a nice name.”

“Thanks.” He turns his head, still resting on the cabin’s outer wall, to offer a press of the lips that somewhat resembles a smile with a dimple decorating each end. “Maybe it’ll fit me in like… thirty years.”

“At 52?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “Grandpa Yoonoh.”

He shivers.

“Don’t, please.” He chuckles. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Fair enough.” You sigh. “What a night.”

“I kind of ruined it for you, didn’t I?”

“It was a roller coaster for sure. But it wasn’t terrible. I’ve got hopes that you’ll do better the next time around.”

The fir trees brush against each other at the push of a particularly strong breeze, and the lake ripples quietly at the shore.

“If you wanted one,” you blurt out. “But if you don’t, that’s fine. It’s your loss, really. Honestly, planning a date is such a hassle because I’m just so busy. And you’re so busy. But it’s not like this is a date now. We’re just hanging out, right? We came together but that doesn’t mean we have to leave together, you know? Actually- I think I saw my brother back inside. I should get him home before Kun yells at us for staying out too long.” The words leave you at a speed too fast to be reviewed by your brain beforehand, too focused on making sure your heels don’t dig too much into the gravel and end up twisting your ankle somehow.

“I do.” Jaehyun grabs your wrist, grip tight enough to stop you from running away yet loose enough for you to shake him off if you truly want to leave.

“…can you start replying in a timely manner?” You look down at him with warm cheeks, shaking from the cold and embarrassment. “You do what?”

“I want to take you out again. Properly, this time.” His eyes disappear into crescent moons.

“What does ‘properly’ entail?”

“You know, getting you flowers, meeting the parents, getting you home before 10 and getting a kiss goodnight.”

“You already messed up the timeline,” you tease.

“I did, didn’t I?” There’s regret in his voice. “Does that mean you don’t want to?”

“No…” You look down at him. “I do.”

“Then, can you let me try and make up for it?”

His lips are warm against the back of your hand, and it makes you feel like a protagonist of a Jane Austen book.

“If you insist…” Your fingers clasp around his hand, urging him to get off the ground. “Ready for round two?”

“I think I’ll pass on round two tonight.” Jaehyun’s arms wrap around you. “Does your mother know you’re out this late? I don’t want to start this on the wrong foot with your family.”

“She doesn’t care, honest.” You try to push his chest, trying to avoid making eye contact with it, but he doesn’t budge.

“And your brother?”

“Which one?”

“You know exactly which one I’m talking about.”

“…It’ll be fine.”

“I’m not starting this on the wrong foot with your family. In the car.”

“What? No. Jaehyun-”

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petalkitshadow · 3 months ago

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Hi there! Just devoured the entirety of PKS within my past few vacation days after stumbling upon your twt account and absolutely loved it (my current favorites are Splashfoot, Darkstar, Echosnout, Squirrelwhisker, Petalpaw herself ofc, and Nettlepaw!) if I had to choose my favorite things about it, one would definitely be just how alive riverclan and thunderclan feel- you have a very strong sense of characterization, even if it's just for bg characters.. I would die for Squirrelwhisker (1/2)

Thank you so much!!! I apologize for not answering right away - I got a lot of comments on the newest chapter (many of them positive, thank you all!!) and I got a bit overwhelmed trying to reply to everything. But I read all the comments I get and appreciate them, I promise!!

I really enjoy building the community of RiverClan - not just the major stuff but the little minutia of it. What hobbies cats have, how they spend their down time, what cliques and friend ground there are, the gossip and rumors they spread, etc! It's fun thinking about each cat's individual life, how they all have stuff going on even if we don't get to see much of it - Like Voleflight and Rainfall being exes, Duskwater being really excited and gossipy about Splashfoot and Troutclaw. It's fun to occasionally give Petalpaw (and the readers) a glimpse into some other cats' lives, like when she meets with the ThunderClan apprentices at her first gathering! That TC apprentice gang is close to my heart, especially squirrelwhisker, I love squirrelwhisker!!

As for your questions!

Nonbinary cats - I see Petal and Perch both being nonbinary. It just feels right to me.. i think theyre a butch 4 butch lesbian couple haha. Redthistle of ShadowClan - she appears as an apprentice in the gathering chapter, but i got her gender wrong by accident! So that kinda led to me seeing her as transfem, and genderfluid. She uses mainly she/her, but he/him and they/them work too. I planned a few cameos for her later in the story to expand on this!

As for the family tree - not yet, I'm still working on it!! it's also very big and unwieldy and hard to upload. But I'll share a fun fact for you all! In the PkS 'verse, Frostdawn is a descendant of Mapleshade, and Splashtail is a descendant of River Ripple! I thought that villain and hero switch-up was quite entertaining, haha

And finally, If they survived OR were in her place, Petalshade's brothers would be named Larchfreckle and Patchwing! I kind of have an AU of an AU in my head, the PkS good end where the kits survive and mapleshade gets to stay in riverclan. she frecklewish and reedshine kiss and also beat up appledusk <3 its more so just a fun thing i have in my head, not something i'd ever actually write though. It has much less conflict and is very much an "everyone is happy" scenario so i dont think it would be very interesting to read about haha

ok thats it! Thanks so much for your message, longer asks like this always make my day <3 <3

#talk #answers #THESE ALL GET SO LONG DANG IT #IM THE YAP MASTER

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

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Blessed Are The Meek 3

Summary: you are trapped in an awkward circumstance with a widowed commander. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, sterility, and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Tommy Shelby

Note: thank you for following along. I’m sure yall didn’t expect to write Tommy again but here we are. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You place the Commander’s bag in the trunk. Then, a thermos and a wrapped croissant for the drive. It’s a small consideration, you don’t know why you even thought of it. You just know that the drive will be long and tedious. You do not relish his return after the journey and the presence of similarly willful men.

You kick off your boots before you enter the house again. You shiver and lean a hand on the wall, lifting your foot to untie the laces. The commander’s footsteps come slow and deliberate down the stairs. You put your sole to the floor and face him, dipping your head.

As he approaches, you take his coat from the rack and offer it to him. Before, there would be another, the long blue jacket his wife so treasured, with its big rosette buttons and round collar. All blue had been buried away or burned to ash.

He lets you lift it onto his shoulder, barely acknowledging you as he pulls on a pair of black leather gloves. He slides out a pair of round glasses and puts them on. The sort he wears to read or tend to some smaller detail. He checks his watch.

“Do not dawdle” he girds as he approaches the door.

You furrow your brow and watch him pull it open. What does he mean? He pauses and lets out an exhale.

“Far be it from me to concern myself, but a coat would be in order,” he bids.

You still don’t understand. Surely he can’t mean you’re going with him.

“Commander?”

“You will sit in the backseat and keep your head down. A toe out of line and there will be more than enough Eyes to have you shipped out to a colony.”

You push your chapped lips together and nod. You don’t expect it and you are unprepared. He’d spoiled the rare moment of escape that tugged at your mind. A day without him and his temper lurking.

“I will get my coat, commander.”

He carries on and you march away. Your coat is in your room with all else that is allotted to you. Not much, enough to exist. A spare dress and apron, shoes for the summer, stockings, and a second shift. You snatch your coat and pull it on, flapping back through the halls to the front door.

As you come out, the car blows exhaust into the air. You get in the back seat and do as he said. You put your head down and don’t say a word. He has his foot on the pedal before you can even shut the door.

He drives with the radio on. A dour voice recites verses as you stare at the back of the front seat. The grey sky ripples, both dimming and paling to create and ebb and flow of light.

There is a soft clunk as the commander steers with one hand. The props the thermos in the cupholder and unscrews the cap. You quickly put your eyes to your lap. The smell of breakfast tea pervades the closed space.

You do not close your eyes. You could fall asleep right there but you don’t dare. Sloth is a sin, deadly as they say. You focus on keeping awake as the tires roll on.

The gates of the capital rise before you. You give only a brief peek as the commander stops to give his identity. He’s waved inside with a panicky sort of deference. Inside, you sense the sudden flurry around you but do not look up. You don’t expect many marthas come around here.

He pulls up to a building of stained white brick. You tilt your head slightly and try to figure where you are. He keeps the engine running as he gets out, greeted by another.

“Commander.”

“Take my car to the residence,” Shelby demands.

“Sir.” There’s a lull as footsteps click around the hood, “and the martha?”

“You may take her too,” Shelby says flippantly, “she will hang my clothes, as is her duty.”

The guardian doesn’t wait for another order. He gets in the front seat as you huddle lower in your seat. It isn’t unusually to be spoken as nothing more than a thing, but it is humiliating even so. The man fixes the mirror as you sense the tension of his unasked questions. It must be a strange situation, yet he cannot question a commander.

He shifts into drive and eases onto the gas. You clasp your hands tight in the silence. It does not seem as if you will return to the house that night and that worries you.

What could it mean? Hansen’s words echo in your head. Would the commander leave with a new wife at the order of the Committee? If there was to be a new wife, could she survive the widower’s grief?

#tommy shelby #dark tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #au #peaky blinders #series #blessed are the meek #drabble #handmaid au

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ramblings-from-the-ether · 6 months ago

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Prohibition AU | Character Profile: Giovanni

The Roaring Twenties is a time of conflict, crime, and chaos—but chaos is opportunity, and the inexplicably salmon-haired Giovanni Potage is a professional agent of it. Currently under Naven’s employ after falling out with a much larger gang, he leads the majority of Bliss Ocean’s soldiers with little other than a vandalised baseball bat, a cooking pot of tricks, and a reckless confidence only matched by his sheer dumb luck and unconventional faculties.

Background.

Giovanni Potage was born to a small immediate family of two mothers in the Chinese diaspora of the US, and close relatives to the legendary crime family known as the Roughhouses. His upbringing was largely informed by honoured family traditions and festive gatherings, the ripples of the Great War overseas, and the growing cultural obsessions of baseball and motorsports in the States. The values of respect, diligence, and unity were deeply instilled in him since childhood, just as much as his taste for brazen rebellion and troublesome aptitude for making a weapon out of anything he could pick up.

Hungry for excitement, surrounded by an extended family versed in crime, and perpetually cruising for a bruising, Giovanni was soon enveloped by a strange aspiration: To become the greatest criminal name in the United States of America. He quickly found himself in a notorious, nationwide criminal group known as the Banzai Blasters, where his natural charisma and unusual, uncanny instincts would soon earn him a small company of deathly-loyal soldiers and an early promotion to captain (and help him to survive the job, at that!)

Giovanni first met Naven by proxy of Molly, who he had befriended early into the Prohibition during an operation gone-awry, and who he proceeded to protect from the chaos of said operation. When the organisational fallout of that night’s events revealed to him the true penny-pinching, dog-eat-dog mentality that suffused the Banzai Blasters’ ranks, Giovanni swiftly left the gang, bringing along his loyal crew of “boys” and a gang-spanning grudge with him. Naven quickly saw the unique assets and potential of the young rogue, and would soon approach him with a new, once-in-a-lifetime job offer. And what kind of aspiring criminal legend could refuse?

Relations.

Though he serves Naven and Bliss Ocean with diligence, Giovanni’s loyalties lie ultimately with his own “boys”. Notable among them is his younger cousin Trixie, of the Roughhouse crime family; as well as the resident foundling, Molly Blyndeff, who he has developed a remarkable compassion for, even serving as a sort of surrogate guardian towards her in her family’s absence. By proxy of the two, he also maintains a somewhat rivalrous acquaintance with Phoenica Fleecity and Dr. Sylvester Ashling.

Within the family’s inner rankings, Giovanni’s almost aggressive amiability—and frankly, his utter lack of social awareness—have also earned him the friendship of the equally-eccentric Rick Shades, the ever-friendly Indus Tarbella, and even a somewhat-amused Zora Salazar. As a largely-amateur criminal, he also admires and is close acquaintances with one Ramsey Murdoch, who has (resignedly) taken to mentoring Giovanni and “making sure the kid doesn’t get himself killed”.

Bliss Ocean Report.

In a business where saying or doing the wrong thing can cost you immeasurably, secrecy and anonymity tend to be valued luxuries; which I suppose is why my colleagues in the underworld find so perplexing my decision to place the notoriously loud, painfully unsubtle Giovanni Potage under my employ. But I do have my reasons, and he does have his traits that set him apart from the common gangster.

Given the young villain’s penchant for making general mayhem, it’s easy to miss just how excellent Giovanni is at making targeted mayhem when he wants to, especially when working in tandem with a team (or a teammate, failing that). Though not necessarily a gifted strategist, Giovanni is a remarkable improviser with seemingly no bounds to his creativity in combat, capable of fashioning life-saving plans out of the most ridiculous of circumstances. His talent with his favourite baseball bat especially is not to be underestimated…although his choice of embellishments for the signature weapon (knives??) can certainly be questionable.

Giovanni also appears to possess some stranger attributes which admittedly interest me somewhat, on top of simply being quite useful. Catastrophe seems to tail the teen wherever he’s directed to create chaos, but no matter the destruction that inevitably befalls the crime scene, he’s never been dragged away with more than a dozen or so scrapes and bruises (and the occasional concussion or dislocated shoulder). Ramsey pins the blame for the damage done on his “lucky” number, 13, which the otherwise-chronically dyscalculic Giovanni keeps count of with a strange obsession. Given his uncanny survivability and tendency to inflict the most devastating attacks at nigh-miraculous moments, I’d argue the accursed number is what’s keeping him alive.

Then there is the matter of…Giovanni’s soup. His soup, which is not only the strongest and spiciest I have ever smelled and tasted of a meal (and seasoned to perfection as far as anyone can attest), but also capable of spontaneous resuscitation, temporary adrenaline production, and sometimes even a minor increase to natural healing. Giovanni has attempted to explain this away as the work of a ‘family recipe’, which explains…well, nothing, and the effects aren’t even always consistent or guaranteed. Nonetheless, he’s never seen without a cooking pot full of it on hand, and he swears it has been a major boon in those missions that come to bullets and blows. I still dare not challenge this claim.

But Giovanni’s greatest asset to us, by far, is his charisma and his compassion. Just during his time working for the Banzai Blasters alone, he’s managed to earn the veritably undying loyalty of six of his peers, largely simply by being true to himself and kind to those around him. He has also taken it upon himself to care for our goddaughter Molly, who I think could benefit from his guidance and infectious confidence more than anyone…despite his criminal aspirations. Giovanni Potage is a chaotic, contradictory character indeed, a wild card to be sure; and personally, I’m almost as eager as I am nervous to see what becomes of his career in Bliss Ocean.

- Naven

#epithet erased #epithet erased au #epithet erased prohibition au #prohibition au #giovanni potage #epithet erased giovanni #naven nuknuk

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pookie-mulder · 11 months ago

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My 911 Holy Grail Fics

For my beloved @skelavender, who I recently seduced into watching the weewoo show and who caught up just in time to partake in the madness of 7x06 ♥️

Life Cycles of the Southern Coastal Husbro series by Mad_Lori

Buddie become platonic life partners but end up falling in love. Who could have guessed??!?? Delicious slow burn!

let’s build this house (into a home, baby) by @withmeornotatall

Buddie are neighbors. Buck bonds with Chris first and then learns his dad is a hot eligible bachelor. The ultimate domestic fluff!

Mr. LAFD Updates Man by hammersmiths

An absolute fandom legend! The ultimate twitterfic.

she’ll never get to eat you like your heart’s a pomegranate by @colonoscopys

Buck being the best dad to Chris. I love them so much 🥹

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Buddie cowboys historical AU! Plus some soulmatism/reincarnation. So sweet and hot!

ripples all the way down by @fcntasmas

My most beloved, most favorite!! Just read it. It’s perfect in every way!

my evergreen by @colonoscopys

Buddie adopt a baby girl together as “friends” before finally getting together. Big men with tiny baby — what more could you want?

Molly A.M. Buckley Diaz ‘verse by @hmslusitania

More buddie as the world’s cutest girldads! My weakness!!

Within/Without by anonymous

I really enjoyed this series! Tbh I don’t remember specifics but I believe it felt very raw and honest. (And now that I’ve become consumed by watched txf I’m realizing that the title is most certainly an x files reference. Maybe I should reread with that new perspective…👀)

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons

Buddie get couple’s therapy (as friends) and work out their trauma. Beautiful angst with a beautiful happy ending!

#that’s all for now! I’m always happy to come up with more though #also I know you’ve already read some of these. I just included them for posterity #also I haven’t been reading much buddie fic in the last year ish so a lot of these are older #911 #buddie #fic

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year ago

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Can you please help me find some sugar daddy fics? I've been obsessed with it lately.

Hey Lovely!

Well, I've never read any myself, so I can't give you any personal recs, BUT I did a tag search on my offline MFL list, and decided to make a new list for you because I need content, LOL!!!

So, here are the fics I have on my MFL list, and if you guys have any more to add, PLEASE do, as always!! Hope you enjoy!!

SUGAR DADDY FICS (MFLs)

See also:

Rich Sherlock (March 2020) (MY LIST)

Sugar Daddy Sherlock (SwissMiss)

Sugar Daddy Part 1 (Alexxphoenix)

Sugar Daddy Part 2 (Alexxphoenix)

Worth Its Weight by philalethia (E, 2,986 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || PWP, Daddy Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Service Domination, Gift Giving, Unsafe Sex, Sex Toys) – “Remember,” John said, “when we talked about you not buying me extravagant things?” Basically: a little bit of Valentine's Day daddy kink. Part 2 of All the Rest 'Verse

An Erotic Sail by justacookieofacumberbatch (E, 4,533 w., 2 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Sugar Daddy John, Yacht Daddy John, Praise Kink, Porn Without Plot, Boat Sex) – Sherlock, fresh off a Semester at Sea ship in Crete, sees a gorgeous older man, and I'm sure you can guess what happens next.

Practically Perfect by vitruvianwatson (E, 6,303 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Age Difference, Younger Sherlock, Older John, Finger Fucking, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Office Sex, Emotionally Insecure Sherlock, Barista Sherlock, Doctor John, PWP) – There was a knock on the door, and then it opened. John shook the thoughts out of his head and looked up with his fake “I’m your kindly doctor” smile plastered on his face, but a second later his jaw dropped because his “patient” wasn’t a patient at all. It was none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes. Not only that, but he was dressed in one of his more indecent outfits—skin tight jeans that looked like they’d been bloody painted on, and a purple button-down that was straining, to say the least, to remain buttoned. John wondered if he’d worked at the coffee shop in that outfit today. He shut the door and leaned back against it with a wicked smile, and John heard the click of the lock.

A Suitable Stain by vitruvianwatson (E, 7,647 w., 1 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Older John, PWP, Rutting, Anal, Clothed Sex, Masturbation, Dirty Talk) – John imagines what they must look like--the young, gorgeous university student, naked as the day he was born, draped over the well-dressed older doctor, the muscles rippling in Sherlock's back as his slim hips roll that beautiful arse up into the air and back down again, his spine curving beneath John's hand as he moves it to the small of Sherlock's back to feel the movement. The hard outline of Sherlock's cock slides back and forth across John's body, dampening his clothes with precome, and John moves both hands down to Sherlock's arse, squeezing and pulling him in harder.

To A Tee by lookupkate (E, 15,321 w., 14 Ch. || Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Hospital Director John, Sugar Baby Sherlock, Accidental Meeting) – Sherlock receives a text from an unknown number. The man is under the impression that he needs a sugar daddy. After careful consideration...well, he could be right.

A Kept Man Isn't A Weak Man by Elphen (E, 20,429 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Sugar Daddy John, Age Difference, Alpha John, Omega Sherlock, Mpreg, Sex Toys, Mating Bond, Possessive John, Knotting, Masturbation, Dominant John, Mating Cycles) – Sherlock is just out of university, but due to drug habits acquired at said college, Mycroft has cut him off, hoping to put a stop to it that way. Instead, Omega Sherlock struggles doubly, both with his cravings and with finding a job that will not bore him to death and support him financially. Then, when he is on the verge of being completely destitute, he finds several hundred pounds ticking into his account for no apparent reason. He thinks it's Mycroft, but instead he receives an email from someone who promises to send him more money every fortnight and put him up in a flat rent free, on two conditions; he will stop taking drugs and he will occasionally be asked to be a companion for someone. He does not want to be bought like some toy, but what choice does he have? The first time the door bell rings, he is sure the man will demand sex. But instead he finds a very sharply dressed man with money and physical power in his mid-30s who wants to talk with him and take him out to dinner. Things quickly escalates on the emotional and physical side for Sherlock, but can you really have a relationship with an Alpha like that?

Sugar Daddy John Series by Sexxica (E, 22,504+ w. across 7 works || Series WiP || Sugar Daddy John AU || Daddy Kink, Twink Sherlock, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Dirty Talk, Comeplay, Anal / Oral, Sex Toys, Praise Kink, Lingerie / Crossdressing) – The very best of Sugar Daddy John and his boy, Sherlock.

sherlock and his daddy series by rory_kent (M, 24,433+ w. across 6 works || Series WiP || BDSM / Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Age Difference, Sub Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Military Kink, Subspace, Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shop AU, Unilock) – Sherlock didn't mean to upset daddy he really didn't!

All the Rest (of What I Want) by philalethia (E, 68,082 w., 20 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || ASiP, Texting, First Time, Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddy Sherlock, Daddy Sherlock, Sex Toys, Phone Sex, Sexting, Unsafe Sex, Service Domination) – After being invalided home from Afghanistan, John takes his therapist's advice and tries to meet people online. Specifically, he joins a fetish site, where he ends up interacting with a man called SH who keeps paying him money to perform odd tasks and seems very keen to take care of him. Basically: slow-build daddy kink. Part 1 of All the Rest 'Verse

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 204,733+ w., 41/42 Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #sugar daddy fics #my fic recs #marked for later fics

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lazysadpotato-comix · 2 years ago

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The Ripple Verse: !!BOY GENIUS!! CHAOS THEORY

Lil’ Miss Amour! AKA Amy LoveHeart

My first ever OC for volume 2: !!BOY GENIUS!! (and technically my first ever OC for the Wordgirl fandom in general)

Extra Doodles:

CW: a lot of no-no words ((one including the ‘C-Word’ since Tobey is British and in his Tweenage years))

So to clarify:

No I’m not shipping my OC Amy LoveHeart with Tobey McCallister (she’s like 9 while he’s 13 and when he turns 18 she’ll be 14 so ew no thank you). I just wanted to make a villain oc that gets on Tobey’s and admittedly my own nerves

Info:

Amy/Lil’ Miss Amour is a 9-10 year old villain.

She moved into Fair City around the time Wordgirl left Earth when she was 7.

She became a Villain 2 years later around the time when 13 year old Tobey Mccallister took up the mantle as Fair City’s okayest “SOMEWHAT-A-hero” as a substitute for WordGirl’s Absence.

Amy gets a crush on any (cute) boy she sees IMMEDIATELY. She doesn’t have to know them, if they’re pretty, she likes them. And if she likes them, she forces them to like her back by using her powers. (Then forcing them to steal goods and treats she wants, uncaring if the boy is caught unless she doesn’t get what she wanted)

Tobey originally was safe from her (since she thought he was just ‘meh, not cute’). But then when he proved to be the only boy that couldn’t fall for her trance, magic, or potions, she fell for him. ((Now Tobey gets to feel what it’s like to be in WordGirl’s shoes when he was smitten with her when they were 10-11. Tobey hates the reminder of that time and he absolutely hates Lil’ Miss Amour with every FIBER OF HIS BEING—))

Her catchphrase is:

“Mon Amour LOVE BEAM!” (She’s Spanish but I misspelt her name Amor as Amour, so now there’s no going back, she’s bilingual now. And probably bisexual in the future—)

Her powers consist of:

Eyes that can manipulate others into falling in love with her/adoring her. Therefore, making them be under her every command (Alike to Mind Control but forcing the victim to love her)

Knowledge of alchemy (usually it’s just magic love potions)

Creating crystallized hearts by her magic wand (very fragile, looks like candy actually-)

Pink blasts that leaves her victims in a love struck daze/trance temporarily

Her powers grow stronger in later episodes, examples:

She can force people into or out of relationships

Emotional manipulation (I don’t mean the ‘abusive type of manipulation’, I mean she literally forces their emotions). Example: She can force people to feel anger, jealousy, hatred, etc.

I plan for her to be a recurring Villain in Season 2 for Tobey, and she’ll even make a few appearances in !!WORDGIRL!! Teen Spirit but she’s mostly around to ruin things when Becky tries to get closer to Tobey romantically, including one on one hangouts and attempted confessions (much to Becky’s frustration and Tobey’s growing hatred towards the little girl)

((The Ripple Verse is tagged so if you’re interested in my AU at all 👉👈 you can click it in the post tags and look more into it))

Reblogs and Replies/Comments are GREATLY appreciated!!

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snapdragonling · 3 months ago

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irregular orbit

ozy/kallux, star wars AU, 1.9k an older take on their star wars AU dynamic. different verse from compromised

It’s an unspoken rhythm they’ve fallen into, in the precarious months since Ozy came to him, shattered, and knelt at his feet.

Kallux will be on his own — surviving at the mercy of the Outer Rim as always, eking out a living on some barren planet or shadowed moon — and feel the Force shiver with recognition, rippling at the brush of a familiar presence.

It’s a different feeling these days. Not the simmering anger of a Sith who’d hunted him from one edge of the galaxy to another, but neither the warmth of the Jedi he’d once loved. Shallow, almost; like the Force was a faint heartbeat. Like it had been smothered, deliberately or otherwise.

Still, Kallux always knows where to look when Ozy appears in his shadow.

He never stays for long. Two days at most. A brief enough window that they rarely have to talk about anything beyond the immediate, and just enough for Kallux to benefit from the fleeting security of someone else watching his back.

Then he vanishes as quickly as he arrived, often without warning, and Kallux goes back to surviving alone, trying to focus on the present and not on the past — or, Force forbid, the future — until the next time Ozy appears, a few weeks or months down the line.

An irregular orbit, but an orbit nonetheless. Kallux does his best not to overthink it.

—

He can’t in good conscience blame Ozy for his own complacency. It’s the exhaustion that does it, after a particular run of bad lack and bad ports. He and his ship are both running on fumes by the time he settles in a grimy trading post on a small mining planet.

The Force can only do so much when his body is so slow to respond. The bounty hunters get the drop on him while he’s walking back from the market.

The number of them is flattering. Through blurry vision (concussion) and roiling nausea (Force-suppression cuffs) he counts eight, all dressed in mismatched armour so as not to appear like a crew. The woman Kallux assumes is their leader, a broad-shouldered Togruta with one robotic eye, keeps her boot on Kallux’s back while she mutters orders to the rest of them.

Kallux only catches every other word past the roaring in his ears and the agony of his broken ribs. It’s enough to know he’s in deep shit.

He drifts in and out of consciousness. He’s lying in the bloodied dirt; he’s being hauled down a narrow alley; he’s propped against the sloping wall of a warehouse as the bounty hunters ready their ship.

He forces his voice to cooperate. “The money’s- not worth it,” he rasps.

“Agree to disagree,” says the Togruta, her blaster level with his face. His sabers hang at her belt like trophies. “The bounty on your head is gonna bankroll us all the way to the Mid Rim, my friend.”

“The Empire will kill you- first time you fuck up.”

“One day at a time,” she says. “Besides, we’re careful. Kept an eye on you for weeks, you know. Had to make sure your dog was off-world. I’ve got no interest in facing two of you.”

It takes Kallux’s sluggish brain a moment to catch up. When it does—

Your dog. Something clenches in his gut: anger, or fear, or some warped sense of possessiveness. It sharpens his nausea to a crippling peak. Kallux focuses on not throwing up.

“Get him on the ship,” the Togruta barks.

Sudden hands on him, dragging him to his feet. He’s in no state to resist; can only dig his heels in on principle alone — and get punched in the ribs again for his trouble. The ship’s ramp fades in and out of clarity as they haul him into the loading bay.

Kallux doesn’t see what happens next. There’s a wet, wrenching sound, a gurgled scream, and then several shouts of alarm. The bounty hunters drop him. He hits the ground hard.

The warehouse is very dark. Face pressed to the cold metal floor, struggling to focus his watering eyes, most of what Kallux can see is silhouetted by the flickering yellow lights of the alley outside. It’s enough.

A shadow is tearing through the bounty hunters like they’re made of flimsi. Two of them are already on the ground, limbs twisted at odd angles, dark stains spreading out beneath them. The Togruta captain falls with a hole in her chest. Not from a blaster, or even a saber — Kallux hadn’t seen the red blade since their fight in the rain — but from an outstretched hand, now dripping with gore.

Perhaps the Force-suppression cuffs were a mercy. All he could sense was a void where Ozy should have been.

Kallux says his name. It comes out as little more than a croak, choked by his own horror and the sounds of combat. Still — the shadow turns towards him briefly. One yellow eye catches the light.

A half dozen blaster bolts shudder to a halt inches from Ozy’s face. He flicks them aside and advances, leaving Kallux’s narrow field of vision. More screams follow.

The next minute is a blur. Kallux can’t keep himself conscious, losing hazy seconds to his pounding head, and sees only flashes of violence. Another mercy, maybe. The last thing he’s aware of is heavy footsteps and the smell of blood; gentle hands on his face and shoulders, travelling down to his bound wrists; a void in the Force murmuring his name like a prayer. Then nothing but darkness.

—

He wakes to the comforting familiarity of his own bunk, the welded metal ceiling drifting into focus as he blinks his way to consciousness.

The first thing he notices are the bacta patches. The low-grade variety; pressed to his forehead and over his ribs, itching in that particular way low-grade bacta did. Beneath the tingling he can still feel the ache of his injuries, but his head no longer throbbed like it might split open, and he could breathe without fire running up and down his chest.

The second thing he notices is Ozy. Not in the room — the thread that bound them ran out into the hallway and ended at the cockpit, where Ozy’s muted Force presence coloured his periphery like a bruise.

Kallux takes a shaky breath and begins the careful process of hauling himself out of bed. Beside the bunk, a new shirt and his sabers had been laid out in readiness— or offering. He ignores them.

He can tell they’re in hyperspace before he even steps into the hall. It’s the particular hum of the engine, the impossible — perhaps imagined — whisper of distance compressing around the ship. The entire cockpit is bathed in blue and white, the windshield a blur of distorted stars.

At the helm, Ozy turns to look at him impassively. In the Force, Kallux feels the slightest flicker of relief.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks.

No response. Ozy turns back to the controls, adjusts the autopilot, checks something so arbitrary that Kallux knows he’s stalling. “How are you feeling?”

“Don’t,” he says stiffly. “Why would you do that?”

Ozy’s posture betrays nothing, but the Force bond tenses. “They were going to take you.”

“You didn’t have t— you could’ve stopped them.”

“I did.”

“You slaughtered them!” The memory of the bounty hunters’ contorted bodies resurfaces, along with a wave of nausea so strong he reaches out to grip the doorframe, eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t needed a connection to the Force to recognise the darkness radiating off Ozy in waves.

He takes a steadying breath in through his nose and lifts his head.

Ozy was out of his seat, one foot forward like he’d intended to move to Kallux’s side and stopped himself. His face was tight with the same hesitation that had characterised the last few months of interaction — as if, having failed his Master, he now rarely knew what to do with himself; rarely knew what was expected of him.

“I wasn’t sure,” Ozy says tersely, “if I’d get there in time.”

Five different emotions clamour for space at the front of Kallux’s mind. Memories, too: careful hands ghosting his face, his arms. The distant sensation of being carried, of knowing instinctively that he was safe. A voice speaking to him softly as if he were awake.

In isolation those memories might have been a comfort. In the present, Kallux feels sick. He drags himself back towards anger, fists clenched by his sides. “You don’t get to be both,” he snaps. “You don’t get to be— I don’t want your protection if it looks like that. I can’t accept it.”

The cockpit isn’t large. He’s close enough to see Ozy’s lips thin ever so slightly. “Hate me if you’d like,” he says. “I’d do it again.”

And there was the crux of it, laid bare before them both.

Kallux exhales raggedly, stalks forward, and drags Ozy into a kiss.

They’d barely touched for months. Maybe because things somehow seemed more complicated now than they had when Ozy was hunting him. Maybe because sex with the Grand Inquisitor had always gone hand in hand with violence. Maybe because this unmade version of Ozy was trying to atone, and Kallux was trying to let him, and closeness felt too much like a reward.

There’d been nights when the two of them were alone on the ship that Kallux had wanted him, and Ozy had been watching him, and nothing had happened. It had been for the best.

Kallux doesn’t particularly care about what’s best right now. He cares about the way Ozy stiffens in confusion — a solid second of paralysis — before swallowing a groan and kissing him back. He cares about rough hands on his bare skin, gentle over his ribs and brazen everywhere else. He cares about how easy this feels, still, after everything.

Ozy pulls back with a start. “Kallux,” he says, low and wary; better judgement making a last ditch attempt.

His pupils are blown wide, black ringed in yellow. Kallux can feel the Force bond singing with desire. “I know what I’m doing,” he breathes. “Do you want this or not?”

He gets his answer in the abrupt press of cold metal as Ozy walks him backwards into the wall, one hand braced above his head, the other sliding down his bare side to grip his thigh. Kallux gives him his weight, lets Ozy hike him halfway up the wall with a muffled, urgent sound, gets his arms around Ozy’s neck and his hands in his hair.

It’s so easy to get drunk on it: the Force an echo chamber of want, Ozy’s mouth hot and desperate, his hands roaming everywhere. Kallux tugs on his hair and Ozy’s hips stutter between his thighs. He pants Kallux’s name against the pulse at his throat.

“I’d do it again,” he rasps. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

There is a long list of things Kallux can’t forgive Ozy for. There is a long list of reasons why he still doesn’t hate him. He wishes he could— wishes he wanted to. He wishes it were as uncomplicated as that.

But this was the shell of the man he’d dragged back from the brink. This was what the Force had delivered him; what he’d refused to let go of, for better or worse.

“Later,” says Kallux. “Bed.”

Ozy does as he’s told.

#writing #r: uphill in the sand #star wars au #this is a verse where kallux isn't actively with the rebellion so obviously it's pretty divergent from 'compromised'#the whole point of this was ozy being referred to as kallux's dog so....anyway....yeah.....#this is what i was referring to in the last post i reblogged ghjfdsgd #ch: ozymandias #txt: ozymandias

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jujuberry136 · 3 months ago

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Comfort Fanfic Recs

tagged by @beanarie

Rules: What are your old school comfort fics? The ones from fandoms that haven't been active in yeeeaaars, but you've read so many times you can practically quote them.

I'm limiting myself to fics that I bookmarked/saved 2015 or earlier to really make sure I'm only including those fics that I've read 5-10 times at minimum. I had a LOT of fun pulling this together, I'm not sorry with how long this list is. Since today sucks, I went with breadth. If you are unfamiliar with any of the authors here, please make sure you check out the rest of their fics because they can all WRITE.

Flagging that a lot of these require you to be logged in on AO3 to see.

Walk with Me by JoeLawson/@tygercaine, The Losers (2010)

Figured that Roque would pass out and make Jensen carry his lazy ass halfway across Afghanistan.

Why? Hurt/comfort for days, lovely plotting, and super well crafted storytelling. I'm always a sucker for team fics/ensemble fics and this hits that perfect length, plot, and characterization for me that makes for the perfect re-read.

Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves by auburn (RIP) (Stargate: Atlantis, SG-1)

Vala Mal Doran and her partners, renegades Jehan abd-Ba'al and Meredith McKay, hijack the Tau'ri ship Prometheus and leave the Milky Way behind in search of the Lost City of the Ancients, Atlantis.

Why? This is a massive series, but we have a great McShep relationship, VALA!!, angst, action, heist!fic, and having a fantastic time exploring ripples through cannon from a relatively simple starting point. It's over 300K, so it's not a quick re-read, but auburn had a great grasp of language. If you've never read any of her stuff, I highly recommend it.

A Farm in Iowa 'Verse by @sheafrotherdon (SGA)

John inherits a farm, Rodney ends up entirely out of his element, and there is much ado about baseball. Completely AU.

Why? This series is gentle without ever going into schmaltz, keeps the core of John Sheppard and Rodney McKay are as characters despite their way more mundane settings, and the love the author has for their created small town and community pours out of the page.

Play it Again by @metisket (Teen Wolf (TV))

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself. “Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

Why? I think this was the fic in which I came to LOVE the fandom interpretation of Laura as the bossy older sister who lovingly bullies Derek into a seemingly passable facsimile of a normal human. I love all of the POVs in this one, but I think what makes it a consistent comfort re-read is the willingness to lean in to the both the absurd and the melancholy.

In Our Line of Work by @enjambament (Inception)

Arthur wakes up and realizes the last ten years of his life have been a dream. He is nineteen, and he can barely remember where he is. What he can remember is the ghost of Eames’ hands pressed down on his chest trying frantically to stop the blood flooding up around his fingers as Arthur died (as he woke up).

Why? I love a time travel fic and this one manages it without any (official) time travel. I love a competent character and this fic is Arthur-focused (whose job is being super competent). The story done such a good job with Arthur's POV, being unsure of his reality, trying to re-fit himself to a whole new world, but being unwilling to give up on Eames entirely. Action, romance, angst, and humor. How can you go wrong?

Spocktoria by @waldorph (Star Trek (2009))

Spock is heir to the Federation throne, Jim is Prince of America because his fucking brother abdicated, and the Klingons are on the verge of blowing shit up--a love story.

Why? Well, picking one Waldorph fic was hard, but this one won because a) YES, re-imagine Young Victoria as a space opera and b) anytime an AU can get the core of the characters so perfect despite a really out there starting point just makes for a delightful reading experience. Waldorph shines with dialogue, seriously - you'll giggle, you'll get angry, you'll get misty eyed. And this story delivers on the core love story and the ending in a lovely way.

Reconstruction by @rageprufrock (Captain America)

In which Stephanie Rogers is the complicating element in the sweeping romance of Bucky Barnes and Lady Liberty.

Why? This one is still in progress (unlike the rest, which are all complete) but I LOVE how Pru really took the concept of gender swapped!Cap and added a spice of historical revisionism. Her Stephanie is such a fleshed out woman, whose struggles with adapting to modern life feel real and urgent. I'm a sucker for stories that have characters with broader support networks and supporting characters, which this story has in spades (her Natasha is especially lovely).

Sour Cherry Life by FaithDaria and PaBurke (Supernatural, Criminal Minds)

Dean has retired to the civilian life. Too bad no one told the serial killer currently stalking teenagers in Indiana.

Why? I love a crossover fic and this was one that inspired my giant SPN/Criminal Minds fic from well over a decade ago. I am a sucker for an outsider POV, which this fic does a great job in highlighting the CM crew trying to make sense of a retired Dean Winchester. I love the team dynamics that the authors build among the CM crew and Dean trying his best to protect his family from a threat he really can't address head on. (Bonus - since they're not on AO3 and it would be easy to miss, if you want more SPN crossovers consider Learning to Fly, a fun Sentinal/Guide AU The Spirit Rescue, or a fun de-aged Dean fic The Hedgehog Rescue featuring a lovely parental Bobby over on ff.net)

Embers by Vathara (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Dragon's fire is not so easily extinguished; when Zuko rediscovers a lost firebending technique, shifting flames can shift the world…

Why? Ok, another giant fic (700K!!!) but hear me out - it's the PERFECT fic to download when you are going on vacation/work trip. I now travel quite a bit cross-country for work and having a copy of this story makes the time go by so quickly. It's amazingly well-written, has a lot of fun drawing from history, has a HUGE amount of rich world building, and features a trying so hard to keep it together Zuko that I just adore. Bonus points if you read the original story posted on ff.net where the author's notes for each chapter just let you sink into the world - they're like DVD commentaries for fic chapters. This nerd's dream.

tagging @kashmir1, @lttrsfrmlnrrgby, @smellectric, @thefriendlymurderer, @lilbunnifufu, and anyone else who would like to play!

#fic game #this was really fun #so much better than doomscrolling

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