#this also adds to my worries about the comment my manager made

[natimiles]

Merry (First) Christmas! (Sylus x reader)

Summary: Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Until you decided to decorate his house.

Words: 1671

Tags: fluffy; romance; domestic; established relationship.

Notes: I wrote this as a Christmas gift for @valkyyriia, and I decided to share it here now. So, even if I didn’t name reader, I wrote this keeping her and her OC in mind ;)

Sylus never really cared about Christmas. Not that he disliked it, but it was just an ordinary day for him. Sometimes, people invited him to grand parties or auctions during the season, but that was about it. For that reason, he never bothered with decorating either. Why would he, anyway? He was the leader of a criminal organization in the N109 Zone, his house also served as his headquarters, and he was sure no one cared about such trivial things.

He hears giggles as he enters his house. That soft, joy-filled sound could only be yours. You’d told him earlier you’d stop by, and he’s glad you actually made it. A small smile tugs at his lips at the thought of seeing you, but it quickly shifts to a dumbfounded expression when he steps into the living room. Boxes filled with tinsel, balls, and ornaments are scattered across the floor — red and silver, curiously matching his house’s decor. A large tree stands in the corner, right beside the wall where his guns are displayed.

Luke and Kieran, who were supposed to be working elsewhere, are there with you, trying to help you untangle a string of lights. Mephisto is also there, perched on the couch next to you, and the sight of the crow wearing a tiny Santa hat is odd, to say the least. Sylus’ red eyes quickly scan the room again, and he huffs, realizing how effortlessly you manage to bend even his henchmen to your will.

“I see you’re making yourself at home, sweetie,” he says in a teasing tone, his deep voice resonating through the living room.

You look up, and your face lights up when you see him. You spread your arms wide as you reply in an excited voice, “Hey, Sylus! We’re decorating for Christmas!”

“I can see that,” he smiles at you for a second, then turns to the other men and the crow in the room, raising a questioning eyebrow at them. “And why are you here?”

“She needed help!” the twins reply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Mephisto agrees with a “caw.”

Sylus appreciates when they keep you company or watch over you for him when he can’t, but he needs them to do their actual jobs. And, more importantly, he wants them gone so he can spend time alone with you. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing just enough to send them a clear message. The twins catch on quickly, their shoulders slumping as they lower their hands and drop the string of lights onto the floor.

“We need to go,” Luke says, sounding dejected.

“We have work to do,” Kieran adds in the same tone.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” you smile. “Thank you for your help, boys. I’ll make sure to add a little bonus to your gifts.”

This makes them perk up immediately, identical masked faces turning toward you at the same time. “Our gifts?”

“Yes. I bought gifts for everyone. I’ll place them under the tree so we can open them together on Christmas.”

“I see,” Kieran says, turning to his twin. “Well, we have to go now.”

“We have work to do, and we can’t disappoint Boss!” Luke adds.

Their tones are happier now, and the way they rush out of the room tells you that the idea of receiving gifts boosted their morale.

“You know they’re going to search your car and your things until they find the gifts, right?” Sylus comments, finally taking long strides into the room and stopping by your side.

“Yeah, I know.” You grab the string of lights and extend it to him to hold. “And you know you’ll be my decorating assistant now.”

“I know,” he repeats your answer, grabbing what you gave him and continuing the twins’ work of untangling the lights. “What inspired you to do... this?” His tone is genuinely curious, and you smile softly.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just thought it’s not something you’re used to doing, and since I’m spending my first holidays here with you, I thought it’d be something nice to do together.”

“Oh, so your plan was to make me help you all along?”

“Maybe,” you smirk. “I know you don’t like to waste time with boring and useless things, but…”

“This isn’t boring or useless,” he says, reaching for your face and gently holding your chin to tilt it upward. “Nothing I do with you is, sweetie.”

“Smooth,” you mumble, fighting to keep your cheeks from blushing, but you know you’ve lost the battle when he chuckles at you. “Okay, now let’s put this on the tree.”

The two of you have good synchronicity when working together, and decorating the tree is no different. You coordinate where most of the decorations go and how to place them, and Sylus listens attentively to follow your instructions — his tall stature being a great help for reaching the higher parts.

You smile and laugh, humming and singing Christmas songs. Sylus absorbs everything, engraving every single sound that comes out of your lips into his memory. He’ll make sure to learn all of them so he can sing with you.

You spin around with the tinsel, even daring to throw one around his shoulders as a playful gesture, and his lips curve into a soft smile that he only shows you. Something inside him warms up, something only you can, something that makes him want to do anything as long as it makes you smile at him.

He takes the tinsel off his shoulders and throws it onto yours, but he tugs at the ends, pulling you closer to him. You blink at him, and he lets out a soft laugh through his nose. His large hand reaches for your face, holding you as the most precious treasure in all the universes (and you are!). Red eyes lock with yours for a moment, and he leans in, his breath tickling your face. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, and he smiles at how trusting you’ve become with him before closing the gap between your lips. The kiss is gentle and sweet, and when you’re about to deepen it, you both hear a loud “caw.” You jolt away from him, completely forgetting that Mephisto was still in the room.

Sylus rolls his eyes, turning his gaze to the crow. “Get out already.”

Mephisto opens his wings wide and flies out of the room, letting out another “caw” on his way out.

“I… forgot he was still here,” you say sheepishly.

“That’s hardly a problem, but he’s gone now,” he says, his eyes returning to you. He reaches for the tinsel around you, pulling you back into his arms. “As we were saying…”

His lips are on yours again, and this time he doesn’t wait to deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth, drawing sighs from you. You throw your arms around his broad shoulders, your hand finding the hair at the nape of his neck and tangling in it. He kisses you again and again, softly and demanding, passionate and possessive, until you’re breathless and barely able to stand because your legs feel like jelly.

“We need... to finish the decorations...” You somehow find the strength inside you to stop the kisses when you get a break to breathe.

“Are you sure, sweetie?” His voice is deeper, dripping with sensuality and not-so-hidden intentions — and he knows it.

“Yes,” you mumble. You swallow hard, shifting your gaze to avoid falling into temptation again.

“Alright.” He gives you one last peck before taking a step back. “We can continue this later,” he says with a sly smile, and you feel the anticipation coursing through your veins.

A little while later, you’re finally done. You’re on the couch, his arm draped over you as you rest your head on his chest, admiring your work. The lights illuminate the room in an almost magical way, and even though you did your best to make everything match the aesthetic of his house, it’s still funny to see a Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

“It’s not that bad,” he comments, tilting his head to the side for a better look.

“Yes, it looks good. It feels like… home,” you lift your head to look at him.

“It does.” Sylus turns to you, his fingers gently caressing your face before his lips press a sweet peck to your forehead. “We can always ask the chef for a feast if you want the whole Christmas experience.”

“We can?” Your eyes instantly light up, and his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he smiles softly at you.

“Of course, sweetie. Anything you want.” He kisses your cheek and pulls you back to lie on his chest.

Sylus stares at everything with eager eyes and a warm heart. You teach him so much, and you don’t even realize it.

You once taught him about music, how to wear accessories, and what it feels like to love someone.

Now, this is another thing you’re teaching him, and that he’ll remember for all his life.

You’re quietly enjoying a cup of hot chocolate in the living room with Sylus, still admiring your efforts while he cleans his gun, when the front door opens with a loud bang. You jump, startled by the sudden noise. Hurried footsteps echo in the hallway, and suddenly two identical figures appear in the doorway. Boxes that were once wrapped are now open in their hands, and they make no effort to hide it. Instead, they rush toward you in sync.

“Miss!” They open their arms, ready to give you a big hug. “Thank you!”

Their arms barely touch you before they’re yanked away. They groan as they land carelessly on the floor, the misty black and red energy dissipating.

Sylus doesn’t even look up, just keeps cleaning his gun as if nothing happened, and you can only roll your eyes with an amused grin on your lips.

Masterlists

Taglist: @william-rex @candiedcoffeedrops @valkyyriia

If you wanna be added to my taglist, please fill this form.

[unclefungusthegoat]

.

[crossbackpoke-check]

18 + swaymark!!

oooo thank you!!

#18 - pleaser, wallows + swaymark

okay i know they are canonically obsessed with each other but. the song is in some ways about feeling like you’re failing in your relationship and being not quite as obsessed with them as they maybe are with you, and in this video of them talking about being a tandem, there is the slightest pause before swayman answers “do you miss him?” that makes me want to probe a wound. we’re not talking irl reasons of how that’s an absurd question (how do you miss him. you’re coworkers you’re seeing each other all the time) we’re talking that maybe this whole goalies-in-love thing got blown out of proportion and now swayman’s having to buy into the bit too hard. linus loves it & everyone’s asking about their bromance & how they love each other so much and the thing is—linus is safe. he’s got a wife and plausible deniability and jeremy? jeremy is gay. sure, he can crack jokes and people-please but the more people ask the more they're going to find out until maybe they find out something jeremy doesn't want them to know. and the longer this goes on, the more jeremy has to sit at linus' dinner table with linus and his beautiful wife and pretend like he isn't a little bit in love with him. and you know what? the longer it goes on and linus doesn't dial it down jeremy does stop being in love with him, because it just feels cruel, until he finally is done enough that he stops biting his tongue and ruins the moment.

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

You can find Option B here

[oimitocat]

YOU TELL ME | OS

��۠ hyunjin x artist! m!reader

༘۠ falling in love + nsfw + one night stand + fan (hyunjin) x artist (reader) + masturbation + teasing + getting together

༘۠ a/n; nothing else to add, just that the nsfw is more like a flashback than full blown smut

“this week’s biggest news! artist y/n is doing a world tour! the rising artist had caught a lot of attention not only from his new album that has reached top fifty on the billboard charts but also prying eyes from his recent attendance at a fashion event in seoul, korea! the artist has spoken about his—”

hyunjin zones out after half of the video. the video of y/n smiling catching his full attention. you have a beautiful smile, one he had fallen in love with even more the moment he saw you in person at the fashion event. up until now he’s only been seeing you through his phone, hoping for a chance in his schedule to visit your concerts and get an autograph.

“how about i sign you instead of this picture?” you ask with a mischievous grin.

“—the artist is dropping his tour list today at eight pm. comment down where you live and if you’re excited to hear his newest album in person!”

hyunjin look at the time at the top of his phone screen. it’s 6:30 am right now. which means the tour list already dropped. he quickly goes to your instagram and squeals at the sight of the post. his eyes rack the list but his smile falters after a while. you’re going to the usa, italy, portugal, germany and spain. not korea. of course, no one really comes to korea. he sighs, turning his phone off and staring out into the darkness of his room.

“i’m sorry?” he asked, confused at what you had said. “sign me?”

immediately, a paper is held up to hyunjin by a man standing next to y/n. hyunjin recognizes the paper, he doesn’t even have to read what’s on it. he knows. he looks up at you, startled and bewildered. is this… for real?

he had managed to get you on the way to the restroom. the event was still going, everyone is still sitting and socializing. he turns to his own escort. he’s never been in this situation, he himself has never asked a fan to sign the nda contract. as exhilarating as this is, it’s also very… embarrassing.

“hyunjin, right?” you ask, snapping him out of his mental turmoil. “don’t you want to get to know me?”

hyunjin swallows, “pen?”

the sight of your grin growing makes him want to combust in the spot.

he turns over, groaning out of embarrassment. did he have to sound so stupidly nervous? he can’t complain though, at the end of the day he got to experience something even better with you. the memory itself makes him a hot mess. all he had asked was when your new album would drop. he made conversation for once because it was literally a once in a lifetime opportunity.

and well…

the hotel. you were escorted to the hotel thirty minutes away from the event. the whole event you kept glancing at him. eye fucking him. not just him though, he was aware of everyone else eyeing him — yet, your eyes were what mattered most to him. he’s smiling to himself, biting his thumb until the time arrives.

he even texted felix, letting him know he’s on the verge of throwing up from nerves. all he received was a ‘liar, stop being delusional’. to which he replies with a picture of you serving him a glass of wine.

he pulls up that exact picture, eyeing your side profile. your hands— “oomf,” he groans, shoving his face into the pillow. those same hands that roamed his body.

he doesn’t exactly know what to say, he just listens to you talk. yet, his eyes are on you hand. the rings that decorate your fingers. you have one on each finger except the thumb.

he asked about it after you finish talking about how the event security did another artist dirty. you pause, looking at him intensely before smiling.

“it’s more aesthetically pleasing that way. don’t worry though, i’ll have my hands clean for you.” he stares at you with wide eyes as you lean in, after all, i want to feel you under them.”

and he leans in to kiss you.

hyunjin turns his phone off again, screaming into his pillow. the nerve he had! to kiss you! what if you thought he was desperate. well, regardless, what’s done is done. you had him and he had you. the desperation was both sided…

“you know you’re beautiful, right? why say it?” you say as you slide your hands up his inner thighs, feeling the firmness of his muscles. “you’re already a work of art,” he whines when your hand grazes his hardened member. “let me add some final touches though.”

you kiss his jaw, slowly going further down his neck. there’s a spot that get a gasp out of him. you kiss and lick, humming and moaning at his noises. he sounds so beautiful. you kiss down his collabone, his chest. as you reach his nipple, you bring your other hand up to his neck. the weight of your hand— ringless, because you had taken them off before bringing him to the bed— making him whimper. you suck and nibble on his hardened bud. he jolts and writhes under you, you have to add some pressure on his neck to get him to behave.

it’s hot. really hot. hyunjin almost cums from your attention alone. you kiss further down, your hand leaving his neck and coming down to his thighs. he gasps and buckles his hips when you kiss his leaking tip.

“don’t worry pretty,” you breathe out, smiling at how undone he’s becoming in your hands, “you’ll get what you want.” and you take him in your mouth.

hyunjin moans as he cums in his hand. he goes limp on his bed, airy breaths leaving his mouth. he closes his eyes, the last smile you threw at him before leaving the hotel replaying in his head. he remembers how weak his legs were after hours of you pounding him into the sheets. after coming four times and the aftercare that came with it.

it was so much.

yet so little.

——

weeks pass by. months. hyunjin is stuck reminiscing on the past, at some point he doesn’t. his schedule gets hectic again. there is hope though. hope that one day you two could do something again or maybe just text. it’s not possible though, his management wouldn’t allow it unless the two of you undergo some sort of process. which sucks.

he’s being delusional, especially now with how he was told two months ago that they will be attending an award ceremony. the billboard awards.

the practice is crazy. the schedule is hectic. he wants to barf at some point because you’re going to be somewhere near his seat and the thought alone makes him nervous. will you treat him indifferently? will you act like nothing happened?

“you good?” felix asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.

they’re backstage now, ready to perform.

“i wanna throw up,” he confesses, giving felix a look.

the younger catches on fast. almost everyone in the group already knows now, his anxiety as the day of the awards drew near was too worrying. they all assured him they’ll have his back, yet he still doesn’t know what he’ll do if he really does become another person on your list that was a one time thing. obviously, it’s better for both of you for it to not repeat.

yet, he can’t help but be hopeful. as much as he knows it’s for the best… as much as he knows that the contract strictly says this will not be repeated… why is his heart so yearning?

he doesn’t mean to. he looks across the stage and glides over the countless faces before them when they finish their stage.

“wonderful work out there!” their managers yell out as they all file backstage. “if anyone needs to use the bathroom go now.”

“i’m good,” seungmin shrugs.

“come with me?” felix asks hyunjin, who nods.

hyunjin and felix are the only ones that go. felix happily praises him for “not spilling your guts out! see? all good!”

hyunjin rolls his eyes and shoves felix into the stall. he waits outside by the sinks, looking at himself in the mirror. he’s damp with sweat, his hair is still a little messy, they’ll do touch ups once they return.

the door opens, he’s not a social person, so he shies away and doesn’t dare look at the person.

“hey hyunjin,” you say loud enough for him to hear. he turns around, almost getting whiplash. you were standing before him, smiling warmly. “you look great,” you grin, “i’ve always wanted to see you perform…”

“ah, th-thank you, you perform in a bit, r-right?” hyunjin can’t believe it.

“yeah but…” you look around, “we could perform something else together later…”

hyunjin blinks. he wants to be swallowed up whole right now. felix is here. “i- uh…”

“hey, sorry, i don’t want us to just be hooking up… it’s hard to get past your management,” you hum, “let’s stay in contact. i liked talking to you, yeah we had fun but i like hearing your stories.”

hyunjin swallows, “ah yeah… me too, um, i could fight something out for us.”

“i’ll give you my personal number,” you offer, “just for you.”

you’re a lot closer now. he looks down at your lips, “okay, i’d like that.”

“awesome, good to know we’re on the same page.” you chuckle. “wanna wish me good luck on the stage?”

hyunjin can’t help but give you a look, “you don’t need luck, y/n.” he leans in and pecks your lips, “a kiss yes, but luck?”

you’re quite taken aback, really. yet, you grin, “yeah, i need you more.”

“ah, my teammate is here,” he ushers, panicked.

“ah,” you laugh. “okay then, one more kiss will do just fine.”

hyunjin’s heart could practically leap out of his chest.

and he kisses you, arms around your neck. he doesn’t want to let go, but with how sweet you’re being, he knows he’ll see you a lot sooner again. the hug you give him feels so good, he wishes you two had more time.

later, when you win an award. the words that come out of your mouth makes him want to die then and there.

“-and i also want to thank that person that gave me a good luck charm before coming here. i was good with just that but now having this award it feels like i have it all, thank you all for supporting me until now! i hope you continue to support me!”

felix’s side eye is something hyunjin might never live down.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

On a razor's edge.

Gif credits

Pairing/Au: Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak.

Word counts: 3087

Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW

Summary: Joel helps you shave. there.

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, smut with very little plot, established relationship, soft Joel, Joel helps to shave your pussy (I also wrote it in the fic but I'll repeat it here, I don't mean to judge anyone's habits, I respect everyone's tastes and habits and everyone can do what they prefer with their body. Do you want to shave? Good. Don't you want it? Good too. For me it's enough that you are comfortable in your body and if you aren't I hope you can be soon), mention to reader's mom who is annoying about shaving, use of a razor, mention of a potential razor cut (it doesn't happen, there’s no blood), unprotected p in v (wrap it up IRL!), I didn't mention Joel or reader’s age but in my mind I imagine them both around 30/40, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, no other specific description of her is given, pussy pronouns, references to pussy as a flower, sex in the shower, oral (f receiving), cream pie, pet names (baby, honey), I think that's all, if by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

English is not my first language, no beta, no proofreading, I already know I'm going to notice a lot of mistakes as soon as I post this and I will have to edit again and again because I'm like this, what can we do? 💀

Comments, reblogs and interactions are very much appreciated, please be kind.

Thanks to anyone who will read this!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

You love Joel.

You really love him with all your heart and soul.

You also love your private time in the bathroom, that little time in your day that you spend alone doing skincare, face masks, tweezers your eyebrows, scrubbing your body and taking a nice shower with your favorite music playing in the background.

You just took off your favorites eye patches and you're ready to shave with your trusted razor when Joel knocks on the door.

“Honey, we’re going to be late, hurry up” His voice is muffled by the closed door but you can clearly hear a certain apprehension.

You hum as you take out your shaving cream and reply, “I’ll be right there”

Your neighbor invited you to his pool party the other day and of course you enthusiastically accepted.

It’s been so hot lately that being able to enjoy his pool for a while seemed like a dream.

Unfortunately, work kept you busy all week so you couldn't make an appointment with the beautician and you've arrived today with a few hairs on your legs and in your bikini area.

You're not particularly concerned when you can't wax and totally respect those who don't, hair removal is a personal choice and everyone should be able to do what they want with their own body.

Joel doesn't care if you have them or not, he's happy to have you either way and is feral with you regardless. In fact, you suspect he especially likes it when you have some down there but still he never stopped you from choosing for yourself and he never made inappropriate comments.

Anyway, today you planned to wear your favorite bikini and you wouldn't feel comfortable with hair sticking out from the sides of your bottoms.

The fact that a woman must necessarily be hairless down there is something that has been instilled in you since you were a teenager and as much as you manage not to care about it most of the time, when you wear a bikini you still have your mother's voice in your ears telling you to make those hairs disappear.

Ugh, your mother.

You shake your head, get in the shower and wash yourself, body and hair.

Then you spread the shaving foam well on your legs. You pass the razor carefully and rinse.

This neighbor is quite wealthy and Joel has heard that he would like to renovate his house so he is fully intent on offering him a quote with his construction company, which is why he is so worried about being late.

He needs some time to approach him until there are not too many people, have a casual chat and throw out the idea.

You also want to make a good impression since his wife is the head of the neighborhood committee and you want to ask her to convince the neighbor next door to cut down some branches that end up right in your yard filling it with annoying leaves. You tried to talk to him yourself but he is a cheap man and doesn’t want to spend money to have a gardener come and do the work. Joel tried too but to no avail.

Joel, on the other side of the door, is still impatient "baby, what are you doing?" you hear him ask after another 10 minutes have passed.

“I’m getting ready,” you say out loud from the shower as you check to make sure there’s no hair left on your ankles.

“You’ve been in there for an hour, what else do you have to do?”

You giggle, Joel will never understand how long it takes to be the way he always sees you. He’s in the bathroom for a maximum of 20 minutes when he decides to trim his beard, otherwise 10 minutes is more than enough for him to take a shower and come out with a towel around his waist looking as beautiful as a God. It’s so unfair.

“I'm making myself beautiful for you” you shout at him smiling at the thought of his answer which in fact comes exactly as you imagined “Love, you're gorgeous, you don't need to do anything, just get out of there”

“I'm almost done,” you reply as you begin to spread the foam on your bikini area.

“You said the same thing 10 minutes ago and yet you're still there,” he grumbles “and I don't hear water running so I don't understand why”

“You don't understand ‘cause you're a man darling, it's not your fault” you grin while you carefully run the razor to the right of your sex, at the point where your leg attaches to your pelvis.

You can clearly see him in your head rolling his eyes, hands on his hips, his weight resting on his right leg while his left leg is slightly jutted forward, his typical pose when he's annoyed.

“Cut me some slack, baby, you know how much I care about getting this job” he replies

“Yeah I know” you say sweetly “but I can’t come around like that, I need to be extra pretty next to you”

At this point he opens the door, just enough to enter and as he does so he replies "no one has a prettier girlfriend than me, I don't know how many more times I have to tell you"

You're all busy shaving so you don't even notice him until you hear his voice closer than before.

You look up and jump, almost cutting yourself with the razor. “Are you crazy?!” you yell at him. “Joel, I almost cut my thigh because of you!”

“And how was I supposed to know?!” his expression is halfway between embarrassed and horny, his eyes scan your body as if it were the first time he's seeing it, his pupils are dilated, his jaw muscles tense and his lips tight on the verge of curling into a smile, you can see it growing at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing you like this, leaning against the shower wall, completely naked and with nipples hardened from the fright he gave you, his nerves are going away.

“So, what? I have to finish, I certainly can’t go around with only a small part of my bikini area shaved, can I?” you rumble at him feigning irritation but oh, you like the way he's looking at you, hungry and feral. And you like that particular dark shade his eyes take on when they're lit up with desire.

He frowns and asks, “Can I help you?” rubbing his neck.

“Doing this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, moving from the wall to the center of the shower, razor still clutched in your hand “Joel…”

“Let me try,” he murmurs hoarsely

“Joel, if you cut me…” you say feeling a shiver down your spine, your eyes fixed on his, sparkling in anticipation.

“I won’t. I promise” He is deadly serious.

“Okay” you say with a sigh and you immediately regret having said it.

Joel takes the razor from your hands brushing your fingers slightly and then drop to his knees fully dressed on the wet shower floor without even thinking about it, as if in some kind of lascivious trance. At least he’s barefoot.

The deal, the job, the money seem like a distant, faded memory and the neighbor’s tree? You’ll think about it another day.

His heavy breathing crackles on your skin as he brings the razor close to your skin with the most intent look you've ever seen him do.

He starts with small movements from the bottom up and shaves a small portion of the left side of your pubic area, his hand is firm and precise and he doesn't seem to have any hesitation, however he is proceeding with caution and you are grateful for it, you have been holding your breath since he started.

The razor seems so small in his hand, like a child's toy, yet it has sharp blades that could cut you at any moment if his movements were not precise.

He pulls it away from your skin to shake off excess shaving foam and rinse it under the flexible shower head and you catch your breath.

You flinch for a moment as he brings the razor closer again, “stay still” he tells you in a peremptory voice.

There is something deeply erotic in what he is doing, in his calm and dedication, in his deep knowledge of every curve of your body. It seems like he knows exactly how to move his hand so as not to hurt you.

He rinses the part, then proceeds to take more foam and spread it tickling your skin with his calloused fingers. You're even impressed that he didn't put too much on, just a thin layer, so he can see the part and have full control of what he's doing.

His jeans are now soaked and stuck to his legs and you can see a bulge growing in his crotch.

He stretches your skin with his fingers and runs the razor over you, still in small motions, shaking it, finishing the sides of the top of your pubic bone.

“I need you to lay down, baby, I have to do the bottom part” he says tilting his head to one side to look better at what he has just done.

Joel himself wanted this shower to be big enough for two people, it's his job and he knows how to be far-sighted in this.

It is wide enough for you to lie down and for him to sit between your legs without difficulty.

You bend down and lay your back on the floor “spread your legs” he tells you “keep them raised”

The floor is cool and wet against your skin but you still feel heated.

You crane your neck to look at him and his eyes are focused, deciding how to position you to do the job.

He takes your ankles and bends your legs slightly, if it was a moment when you wanted to laugh you would say that you look like a frog but now you feel like a rose of flesh. A bold, cheeky flower that has blossomed for him.

“Stay like this, can you?”

You nod because you can’t do anything else, you don’t know what to say, you’re hypnotized by his deep breathing and his eyes.

You feel a pulse between your legs.

A heat that starts to rise from below.

He smears a thin veil of foam on the inside of your thighs near your pubic area, he runs his fingers almost absentmindedly near your folds, you know that every movement is thought out, he's purposely ignoring your pussy so he doesn't lose his concentration but you can feel desire creeping through the air between you.

It's thick, heavy, and smells of your perfume that invades your nostrils now that you're playing the obscene dancer for him, with your legs bent as if you had to warm up your muscles before a show.

He draws your edges with the razor, rinsing continuously, you feel the blade glide over you, darting across your skin, only slightly resisting to your roughest hairs.

You feel a glimmer of clear drool dripping between your petals, all the way down to the crack of your butt, that gives away your eagerness.

A couple more gentle swipes and he's done.

You can hear him swallowing nervously, your throat is dry too.

“All done” he whispers, running his fingers over your smooth skin.

You sit up, legs at the sides of his body and tug at his shirt to give him a kiss. You suck his bottom lip between yours, tasting his minty flavor.

You dwell on that ecstatic feeling for a while before you let go of his lips and take a breath back into your lungs.

“Do you want me to shave it all off?” Sometimes you do, you like it when you feel just the soft, just that, that tingles every time he runs his tongue over it.

Shiny as egg white, voracious, naked luscious lips ready to salivate and swallow until they’re full.

But now you can't wait and you know he doesn't care, they're short hairs anyway, you keep them trimmed.

It's just a little line that surrounds your flower to browse.

“No baby, I need you”

The razor is lying on the shower floor, you pick it up and place it on the steel shelf that Joel installed for you to put your things on.

“Mmm tell me what you want” He asks, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with lust.

He already knows the answer.

“Fuck me” you plead, voice trembling with excitement “fuck me with your tongue and fingers, please. Fuck me with your cock. Fuck me until I see white and I’m a mumbling mess underneath you”

You put your hand over his bulge, running slowly to his zipper strained and you fiddle your fingers on his button.

You feel him squirming, his eyes feral and mesmerized by your touch and your words.

You open his jeans as he takes off his water-spattered shirt and throws it on the floor outside the shower.

Sitting like this, you notice even more the softness of his belly, that little bit of flesh that you love to bite.

He gets up to get rid of his jeans, now soaked, annoying, heavy, he throws them on the floor and they land with a dull thud.

His boxers are damp and have a big stain on the front, but it's not water. It's his pleasure dripping.

He’s rock hard leaking profusely.

He leans down and gives you a long kiss, looking at you. His hands slide slowly over your arms, slipping onto your hips, squeezing your flesh and your body arches towards him, your tongue quivers on his, every fiber of you reacts and bends gently to him.

He brings a hand to your cheek, deepening the kiss, eagerly licking the inside of your mouth, tasting you.

You moan into his lips as you feel his other hand move up and rest on the side of your breast, his long fingers reach your nipple and trace its contours, they move circling it, he does it first with his thumb and then with his index finger. He passes them over your bud, titillating it, making it harden under his fingertip.

He makes space between your knees again, makes you lay down on the floor, caressing your torso, going down to your ribs, he touches the area just below and whispers “you look beautiful here”.

You like that he appreciates everything about your body, even those parts that others ignore, he sees the overall harmony and knows how to notice the details. He knows the map of your scars and every shade of your skin. He goes down, brushing your navel and then unexpectedly goes back up and takes your lips again.

He sucks.

He tastes.

He drinks.

He lowers himself and leans over your opening. He breathes hard as he gives the first lick, with his tongue flat, crawling from bottom to top, lingering on your clit. He spreads your folds a little with his thumbs and looks at you for a moment whispering “God, baby, you have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen” he inhales your scent “and she’s so wet…” and he licks again “so sweet” another lick “and she tastes so good”

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, pushing him against you.

He keeps his mouth glued to your slit, his tongue seems everywhere, meticulous and insatiable, it seems he can never get enough.

You listen to his movements with your whole body, as if he were speaking to you, using a language unique to yours.

You feel his hand resting on your hip, you grab his wrist and bring him back to your tit, you don't need to ask him to touch it, he silently takes your nipple between his fingers pinching and twisting.

Your ribcage expand for air, you gasp with your mouth wide open and a long moan leaves your lips rising from deep inside you.

You lift your head to see him, looking disheveled and grateful, his beard glisten with your fluids as two of his thick fingers slide into you.

He traces with his tongue that little stripe of hair he left you, which frames your lips, he caresses them, takes them in his mouth, sucking lightly.

His strong aquiline nose is hitting your clit now, fingers curl to find that perfect spot, the one that makes you see white, like you asked.

You moan in disarray “your cock – God – I want your cock, please Joel”

He gives a couple more licks and then moves, towering over you, kissing you with lips that taste of salt and lemon, of you. It’s your taste, all over his mouth.

He lower his boxers and the tip of his cock presses against your hole, slowly making its way in.

You throw your arms around his neck, giving him sloppy kisses on his sultry skin.

He grunts as he thrusts into you, you wrap your legs around his waist as he slides a hand behind your arched back, pushing you, anchoring himself to you so you don't slip on the wet floor, his knee braced on the floor.

You stammer senselessly yes yes yes, you're both close to your peak.

You feel disarmed, completely enveloped by him, by his body, by his scent.

You're sweaty, even though your skin is still wet, your body contracts against his, waves of pleasure modulating your breathing.

Your orgasm explodes in a long sigh, then it goes silent, you bite your lips, you are overwhelmed.

He takes your hands, intertwines them with his and brings them above your head, sinking relentlessly inside you, hitting again and again, deeper and deeper until you feel thick, sticky stems filling you, painting your walls, dripping from inside you onto your thighs.

His hair is plastered to his forehead, his eyes searching yours as he fills his hands with your ass cheeks, giving the last hard thrusts before he pulls out of you and lets himself go on the shower floor next to you.

You take deep breaths, trying to come back to your senses, your bodies completely exhausted.

“Well,” he says after a while, “we’re officially too late to go now.”

“Do you mind?” you ask, rolling onto your side, tracing his broad chest with your fingertips.

“No,” he replies without even thinking.

You burst out laughing together.

No, this is definitely more important.

[itsfairly]

Saying Out Loud // Nanami Kento x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

cw: none.

notes: HAPPY PRIDE YALL! i normally post once a month, but lets pretend last post was the make-up for may and this one is june's. either way, fits the month, right?

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

"I'm bisexual," you said with a small crack towards the end of your words.

your eyes were constantly shifting between his, searching for any reaction or response from Kento as your fingers fidgeted with each other in an effort to calm your nerves.

it was so uncomfortable, so tense, so terrifying. you know this stuff is told at the beginning of a relationship, not months into it, but things with Kento were going so well. you've never felt so calm around someone, so loved in the most simple yet concrete ways, that a relationship could be so easy and rewarding as this one with him. you wanted to hold on to this stage, this moment where things flowed perfectly and the world seemed to say yes, these two are meant for each other. that's why you took so long to tell him.

after all, how many people treated you differently after they learned this about you?

sorry, its just that i dont want to date someone who will make me look over my shoulder to see if they are being faithful.

what? so you're just gonna leave me when you want to date a man or something?

does that mean we can have a threesome?

its was as if there mere mention of your bisexuality was a burden to them or some sort of fetish. it was exhausting and no matter how much you tried to be fine with it, you weren't.

it wasnt like you didnt trust Kento, he had been nothing but respectful to you and such a gentleman. but god, did those relationships screw up your confidence in this area...you thought you could keep this to yourself, but then again, he deserved to know before things went any further, to walk out if this wasn't what he hoped. you would get it even if it was unfair.

with every second his eyes looked into yours, taking in your words with that stoic expression of his that you could barely read at the moment, the fear was growing in your chest. It kept expanding until it reached your lungs and had to take deep breaths to appear calm about this when you were scared shitless. what would he say? why was he taking so long? he wants to break up, doesn't he? of course, he-

"what made you want to tell me now?" Kento asked, his voice calm as ever as if he was asking where you wanted to have lunch, making you wonder if he was even understanding the severity of your words.

"we've been dating for months now, exclusively even, and you deserved to know before things got serious," you said, feeling your heart race with every word you said. hell, you wondered how you managed to speak so clearly with these many thoughts in your head.

"but are you telling me because you want to or because you felt like you have to?" Kento asked, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes showing this concern.

that made you blink a few times. this wasn't the kind of reaction you usually received. you were bracing yourself to hear any apprehension, maybe for him to reject or twist your words, but not to see him worried for you like this.

"i told you, we have been dating for a few months and it would be fair if i kept this from you-"

"but its not fair to force yourself either." Kento interrupted you, his words having this firm yet soft tone to them.

his hands reached out to one of yours, covering it completely in his hold. a steady hold opposite to the fidgeting of your fingers, but in his hands, your hand had no choice but to relax.

"you look so stiff you might break, try and take a breath," he adds, his head tilting to the side as his expression softened.

you do just that, mirroring Kento as he also took a deep breath to encourage you to do the same, and while it did help with the nerves, it didn't relieve your confusion. he wasn't saying much on your coming out, he hadn't say a single word about it yet.

"i wanted—want to tell you because i don't want you to find out later on after investing so much in me and just...you don't need to waste your time if someone like me isn't what you were looking for," you explained.

of course you wanted to tell him, but it didn't took away how scary coming out is, especially when the person you're coming out to is so special and you want them in your life regardless. you didn't want to lose him, but you also didn't want to deceive him like this. maybe you did had to push yourself to say it, not wanting to ruin things so quickly, but you couldn't wait any longer.

Kento sighs, making your heart stop for a second. Was he disappointed? Infuriated? Angry?

But when you heard his words as he squeezed your hand, you were surprised to learn how far off you were...

"i must be awful at making it clear that you're exactly who I'm looking for."

suddenly, its as if your heart gains this new energy, beating and beating as if you just ran a marathon. your mouth feels dry as youfeel your brows knitting together, feeling as if this conversation was bringing more surprises to you than to him.

"you don't care that i'm bi?" you asked quietly, your hand squeezing his back in hopes you didn't hear him wrong.

Kento shakes his head, "i do, but not in the way you think," he says, a shadow of a smile coming to the corner of his lip as he scoots closer to you. His eyes look at yours, silently asking if that was okay. You nod.

"i care, not because it annoys me—i would be an asshole if that were the case—, but because i'm learning about you. The you that you feel most authentic to. While i am happy that you are opening up to me about something so important to you, i wished you would feel more comfortable telling me about it because you were ready, not because you felt pressured to. i'm sorry if i made you feel that."

you didnt know what it was at this point, whether it was the adrenaline or sweetness of the moment, but you knew Kento was the reason with all these words he was saying. he wasn't anything like anyone you'd dated before, he was being so sweet and just a dream. you never thought your chest could swell with this feeling while coming out to someone. it felt...easy.

you quickly shake your head, your turn to scoot over to him with your knees bumping against his. "no, no! you didn't pressure me in any way, Kento. its just that i know how much of a dealbreaker this is to some and i..." you took in a deep breath, feeling your throat hitch with this lump, "god, you have no idea how relieving it is to hear that."

you didn't wait a second longer before you wrapped you arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug as you rested your forehead in his shoulder. you felt his arms wrapped around you in return, pulling you closer to his body as his hand caressed your back in soothing circles that made your heart calm down.

"someone like you is special," Kento says softly, his breath tickling your ear, "you're choosing me over anyone else, and i feel so honored that you are with me."

you laughed softly, pulling your head back from his shoulder and looking at him with a huge grin. god, he made this so, so easy.

"kento, you have no idea what this means to me. No idea how easy it is to feel lucky right now." You said quietly, taking a deep breath before resting your forehead against his, "thank you, just thank you."

Kento hums, his hand coming up to your scalp to stroke your hair gently. hearing all your words and seeing all the emotions you wore on your sleeve made him realize how big of a step this was for you, how heavy of a topic this was on you. it didn't take a genius to know that this reaction from you meant that this situation didn't went as well in the past with other people, which made his heart hurt for you. Sweet you who thought about him first before herself when this wasn't about him.

more than ever, Kento would make sure that you felt comfortable in your skin and secure in your relationship. you deserved nothing less than that and you were worth investing in as you said in your own words, though he would much rather call it loving you. it sounded more accurate to what he wanted to do.

"you know, now i have to put more effort into our relationship," Kento said softly, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "after all, I'm showing you off to double the people, aren't i?"

[kortsitron]

Coming Out

✮ PARING Bucky Barnes × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS 40's, catfa! bucky, supportive! bucky, bisexual! bucky, pre-transition reader, gender dysphoria, established relationship, misgendering, coming out(s), anxiety, fluff, unsafe binding, suggestive themes but no smut, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of transphobia, praises

✮ SUMMARY Bucky finds out you're trans amd decides to show his support for you

✮ A/N I haven't written much for my trans men lately, so I wanted to write something again. You can say it's kinda inspired by confessions (another fic of mine), but this goes a little differently. I also wanna add - do NOT use bandages to bind your chest, it is not safe. Please get a binder and if that is not impossible, buy breast tape and use it to flatten your chest down if possible. Please stay safe while binding!!

ao3 masterlist requests

Being Bucky's girlfriend wasn't exactly bad, it was quite the opposite actually. He loved taking you out on dates, he was respectful of your boundaries and he was a gentleman like no other. Not to mention, since he was a Sergeant you felt quite safe around him. No man dared to lay his hands on you.

You couldn't ask for a better boyfriend and you were happy with him.

But you were scared to tell him how you felt. How you couldn't bare pretending to be someone you were not. Wearing those dresses, not being able to cut your hair as short as you wanted, calling yourself the name that didn't feel like yours anymore.

You were dying to tell him, but at the same time you were scared he might break up with you or worse. You knew James was not a bad man, he was pretty accepting, but it didn't stop your worries.

After a long day at work, you saw him waiting outside the Cafe with the biggest grin on his face. “Hey, doll.” He greeted you as you exited through the door.

“Someone looks happy. Something happened?” You asked with a hint of teasing to your tone as you walked over to him.

“Can't a man just be happy to see his beautiful, amazing girlfriend?” He asked, taking your hand and giving your knuckles a soft, sweet kiss.

You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the word ‘girlfriend’, but you managed. Maybe because he was being so sweet towards you.

“Planning on taking me somewhere?” You asked, trying to change the subject in case you were going to hear more comments that, despite being made in good faith, were making you uncomfortable.

“I was thinking we could go to my place, maybe cuddle.” He shrugged before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Just cuddle? Or are you going to make me get into Hobbit?” You asked with a small grin as you started walking towards Bucky's house.

“Oh come on.” He let out a playful whine. “It's a good book. Trust me, I'll get you into it eventually.”

“Keep on trying.”

Bucky’s place wasn’t far and almost as soon as the two of you got there, he got into the bed and pulled you on top of him. And there you were, on top of shirtless Bucky who couldn't get his hands off of you.

“I can't get enough of you.” Bucky murmured, his hands going up and down the soft flesh of your thighs. He bit down on his bottom lip, you were the most gorgeous thing in his eyes. 

You let out a soft chuckle at his words, and he smiled at that. It was always so nice to be around him, he was able to make you smile and laugh like no other.

“Let’s get you out of that, hmm?” He hummed, while relaxed enough you forgot about one little, tiny but very important detail.

He started taking the dress off you, and then he saw it. His eyes widened as he saw your chest. Tightly bandaged around your chest, making it flatter than it was normally. His eyes held worry for you, did someone hurt? Did something happen to you?

“Are you hurt?” He sat up a little as he asked the question. He wanted to touch your chest, but he was worried he would hurt you.

You look down at your chest, before trying to cover yourself up. He wasn’t supposed to find out, at least not now. At the moment, under his gaze all you could feel was shame. All you could think about was that he was going to break up with you.

With your heart already pounding in your chest, you started getting off of him in a hurried way. Bucky immediately picked up your panic and he grabbed your wrist. Tightly enough to not let you slip out, but not enough to make it hurt.

“Hey, hey…” His voice was a little more gentle now, hushed. His thumb was gently caressing your wrist. “I am worried about you. Did something happen? You aren’t hurt, are you?” His eyes flickered down to the bandages, looking for any blood stains. But there was none, just the clean bandage, carefully wrapped around your chest.

“You… You promise you won’t throw me out…?” 

His eyes widened once more. Throw you out? You?

"Darlin’, I could never. Why would I ever throw you out?” He couldn't understand why you would think like that.

With a shaky sigh and tears in your eyes, you laid down next to him. Bucky laid back on the back, staying quiet and letting you find the right words.

“I-I don’t feel… good about my body.” You mumbled out, your voice shaky. Bucky saw that you weren’t okay, but decided not to interrupt you. He gently grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze as if encouraging you to talk without saying so out loud.

“I d-don’t feel like a woman, alright?” Your voice was even more shaky. Before you knew it, you started sobbing quietly, overwhelmed by the confession you made. “I want to be a man like you. I want to be seen as a man, dress like a man, look like a man. I just want to be me.”

Without a second thought, Bucky wrapped his arms around you, pulling close against his chest. One of his hands caressed your back, hoping to comfort you.

He was quiet, lost in his thoughts before he finally spoke up. “I heard there’s a man… Well, a woman actually, who had the same problem as you. She was born as a man, but she didn’t feel like one, so she decided to stop pretending who she was and now she’s just… herself.”

“Really?”

Bucky hummed. “Yeah. I think we saw her last week, you said she had a nice dress. I think her name was Annie or something along those lines.”

You didn’t know there was another person like you out there. You felt so isolated in your own experience, you didn’t notice others who were able to understand you. Understand what you were going through.

“Are you… are you going to break up with me?” You asked as quietly as you could, you were terrified to hear a positive answer.

Bucky pulled back to look at your tear-stained face. He gently cupped it, making you look into his eyes as he smiled at you. “Never, love. I love you so much. It doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. You’re my boyfriend, okay?” He kissed your forehead.

Boyfriend. 

You were waiting so long to hear something like that and it felt so damn good to finally hear it.

Bucky let go of you and left the bed. “Where are you going?” You asked, not understanding what he wanted to do.

“I think I have something you might wanna wear instead of that dress. No matter how pretty it is.” He teased you a little, but his words held no malice. They were quite affectionate, actually.

He walked back to you with a simple shirt and a pair of pants. “What do you think, huh? Enough to your liking? Or would my baby like a suit more, hmm?” He had a smile on his face, almost as if excited about this whole thing.

You were so worried he might be disgusted with you and yet there he was, smiling at you after you told him.

“They'll be fine. Thank you, James.” Your soft answer made his heart skip a beat.

“No problem. What kind of partner would I be if I left all by yourself when you're struggling so hard?” He gave your forehead a small kiss. “You're stuck with me, doll.”

He put the clothes down on the bed, his eyes wandering to your chest once more. He let out a sigh, his expression more serious than before.

“As much as I want to support you, you can't be wearing those. It's definitely not safe.”

“I know, I just wanted my chest to be flatter.” You explained, with a small hint of desperation in your voice.

“I know, I know. Listen, we will find a way to help you, okay?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was worried he might not express his concern properly. He wanted to support you, but he was still worried about your safety. 

“We will find a safer alternative. As much as I believe you meant no harm, I just can tell your ribs will not be happy if you keep bandaging yourself for longer than just a day.” He continued, his eyes not leaving yours.

His hand moved to your cheek and he smiled at you. “You're not alone and you won't be as long as I am here. With me, you can be yourself. I will do what I can to help you.”

You nodded before giving him a tight hug. “Thank you so much.” Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you before letting go.

“Go on.” He encouraged as he gestured towards the clothes. “I know you're dying to try them on.”

You let out an excited giggle, taking the clothes into your hand and making your way to the bathroom, almost tripping over as you did.

“Careful. We don't need you all bruised, do we?” Bucky commented with a small smirk before letting out a small chuckle.

While you disappeared behind a bathroom door, Buck had a little moment to think about the whole situation.

Was he expecting that? No. Should he? Probably. 

He wasn't going to break up with you, he was too in love with you to care about your gender. You were still the same person he fell in love with over a year ago.

If anything, he was much more concerned about your safety. He knew there were people who would not be as accepting as he was. 

Heck, he still remembered how he was walking the poor Annie home after a few guys jumped her sometime ago. Bucky wasn't going to pretend the thought of something similar happening to you didn't make his stomach turn. 

You were safe with him, but on your own? He was scared to find out.

The sound of the door opening took Bucky out of his thoughts. He looked towards it and saw you, dressed in what he gave you, along with your hair being tied in a way that made your hair appear shorter than it actually was.

Bucky let out a low whistle at the sight. “Now that's one hell of a man.” His eyes wandered over you, his smile returning. “Well, well, well. If someone really says my boyfriend isn't the most handsome, we will know they are lying.” 

His smile widened when he saw how happy you were at the praises.

“C'mere, darling. Let me hold my pretty boy.” He patted his lap, inviting you to sit on it. 

You eagerly sat down on his lap. “Look at you, so handsome.” His hand moved to gently grab your chin so he could look at your face.

“You think so?” You asked a little more shyly, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Absolutely. Now I wonder how you would look in a suit.” He bit his lip once more. “I bet you would look good. Like really, really good.” He moved to leave a few kisses down your neck.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Enough praises.” You giggled at the feeling of his soft lips against your neck.

“Enough? You don't like my praises? I am wounded.” He pulled back and mocked, pretending to be hurt by your words.

His eyes wandered over you once more. It was nice to see you like this, visibly happier and more confident than before.

“You know… handsome,” He murmured, his smile falling once more. At first he wanted to call you by the name he was used to calling you, but after what you told him, he thought against it. “As much as I want to support you, I need you to be careful, okay? I am not telling you to not start pressing yours in a more masculine way, of course, you do you. I worry someone might hurt you for trying to be yourself.”

You nodded quietly. World was not as pleasant of a place for those who were sticking out, purposely or not. “I know, Buck. But I don't wanna pretend to be someone I am not.”

Bucky let out a quiet sigh. He expected that kind of answer. “I know, doll. I know.” He moved closer to you, his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “I will do what I can to protect you from harm's way. We will find a way for you to be yourself safely, okay?”

You hummed with a soft nod. “Gonna find me a good hairstylist?” You asked with a small smile, hoping to lighten up the mood.

He let out a snort at your words. “Definitely. If I wasn't worried I might leave with an uneven haircut, I would do it myself.” He chuckled. “But I think I might know a safe place where you can get a haircut. I mean, I have a friend who owns a nice, small hairdressing salon. I heard from a friend that he doesn't mind people from the community unlike some.”

You let out a hum before you smirked a little. “You have contacts with the community? I don't know about something?” You teased him lightly.

“What can I say? Women are pretty, but some men are also eye-catchers.” He winked at you. “But seriously, I will talk to him if you want to.”

You nodded once more. “It means a lot, James. Thank you.”

“It's no problem, love.” 

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 58

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Tuesday, February 23rd; 9:00 AM - Manchester

I finish getting ready, adjusting the suit Lucy kindly lent me as I look at myself in the mirror. The beautiful days in the snow feel like a distant memory since our return to the city. We’re back to our responsibilities after a relaxing weekend. I smile when I see Lucy approaching me in the reflection, wrapping her hands around my waist.

- "This outfit looks amazing on you."

I blush at her open compliment. I was just about to ask her how I looked, but I forgot that Lucy no longer hesitates to say what she used to keep to herself. It’s a pleasant change, considering she used to only play the serious, emotionless role.

- "Thank you... But it’s your outfit, remember?"

Not having anything suitable in my suitcase for a professional meeting, Lucy had to lend me some clothes. The only things I’m wearing that are mine are my underwear and black pants. Lucy let me borrow her little black boots, a white shirt, and her suit jacket. Fortunately, we’re the same size. I love borrowing her clothes, and the best part is, she doesn’t mind. In fact, I get the impression that she likes it.

- "Well, if it means seeing you look this stunning every time, I’ll keep lending you my clothes."

I smile shyly before leaning back slightly to find her lips. It’s almost time to leave, and it’s making me increasingly anxious. Waking up wasn’t difficult, surprisingly. I’ve been sleeping like a baby since I’ve been back in Lucy’s arms. I can’t say the same for breakfast, though. I could barely eat anything after my shower. Since we spent the last couple of days lazing around, I had plenty of time to think and prepare for my interview. I worked on it so much that Lucy had to force me to take a break, saying I was overdoing it. The problem is, I have no idea who I’m dealing with or what the outcome will be. For all I know, it could be nothing. I’m afraid of being disappointed. Lucy is very optimistic about it. She seems to expect a lot, which only adds to the pressure. I’m terrified of messing it all up with my usual clumsiness. She tried to reassure me, but it didn’t help much. She then added that I should just be myself and everything would go well. However, I rarely manage to be myself in situations like this. Panic always takes over. I wanted to know what the gallery director looks like, but Lucy told me she’s only spoken to him on the phone, though he sounded very friendly. She thinks he’s young. The fact that she simply believes in me makes my stomach turn. When I noticed she was getting frustrated with my behavior because it was affecting her, I thought back to the amazing week we just had. It was so enlightening and at the same time very soothing. I felt like I found myself again, and for the first time in a long time, I opened up. Not just to Lucy in our relationship, but also to her friends and mine. I can’t even remember the last time I so easily let people into my private circle. It was really a good idea. It even improved Lucy’s relationship with Mapi and Alexia. Thinking about all that gave me the courage I needed for what’s coming in a few hours. I’ve made progress, and there’s reason to believe in myself.

- "Are you ready?"

- "Panicked," I murmured.

- "Everything will be fine," she replies, kissing my cheek. "I’ll be waiting for you."

- "You’re going to see the girls in town, then?" I asked.

She told me she’d be meeting up with Ingrid and Mapi after exchanging messages with Ingrid yesterday. I would have loved to join them, but duty calls elsewhere.

- "Yeah, but don’t worry. Just send me a message when you’re done, and I’ll be there. And, if something positive comes out of this interview, I’ll let you celebrate tonight with no limits."

- "That’s a very dangerous comment, Miss Bronze."

- "And I’ll take responsibility for it," she smiles playfully.

- "I’ll make sure to remind you of that."

- "You’ve proven that you can be responsible, so I can make an effort too."

I smile, thinking back to Saturday night. The girls were really feeling it the next day. We haven’t seen each other since, but we’ve been texting a lot. I’m glad I stayed sober. I’ve earned some trust points with Lucy. It’s crazy how we’re all swimming in an ocean of happiness. I’m very happy, just like my best friend who’s staying with Ingrid, and Alexia with Jenni. I hope things continue this way for a long time. By the way, we’re all meeting at The United tonight. I love that place, so I was immediately up for going. I hope I’ll get a chance to let loose, especially since Lucy is allowing it. In any case, I have no choice but to ace this interview. I’m fully aware that I’m playing for an important career. I take a deep breath as I look at myself one last time.

- "Let’s go. I’ll be late otherwise."

- "You’re perfect, no matter what he says. Don’t forget that."

I return her smile timidly, nodding. I don’t quite believe her words, but they give me courage. She kisses the back of my head one last time before stepping back. I know exactly what that means. It’s really time to go. Without a word, we both leave the bedroom and head to the living room. I feel at home with the ease I feel in this environment. Lucy makes me feel at home, and that’s all I needed. We put on our jackets and shoes from the wardrobe by the front door, then finally step outside. The accumulated stress doesn’t help me stay calm. I need to touch or occupy myself with anything I can as we drive. Noticing this, Lucy eventually places her hand on my thigh.

- "Hey, it’s just an interview, OK?"

- "You don’t understand. This is the chance of a lifetime."

- "If it doesn’t work out, we’ll look elsewhere," she says with determination.

I smile timidly, trying to convince myself of the best outcome. Lucy has always been more optimistic than me. That’s partly why I love her. She’s always been my light in the darkness. The ride feels endless in the silence I’ve caused. Her hand never stops caressing my thigh, though. She’s forced to remove it when we arrive so she can park. I’m relieved to see we’re much earlier than I feared. It must have taken us barely ten minutes. I expected the gallery to be in the heart of downtown and that it would take us longer to get there. I frown, looking around. This neighborhood doesn’t seem like it could host a gallery. It’s just an ordinary street with lots of houses. I glance at Lucy, who’s smiling.

- "Was this a joke?"

I ask hesitantly, dreading the answer. Disappointment already starts to grow within me, along with a hint of annoyance as her grin widens.

- "I’d never play such a bad joke on you."

- "Then where are we?"

- "At an annex of the gallery. This is the address I received for the interview," she says, pointing ahead.

I look straight ahead and see a renovated warehouse with a garage door as an entrance. I bite my lip, not sure what to think. It’s certainly an unusual place. I’m an artist at heart, so I love unusual things, but it’s unsettling for a major gallery to work in a place like this. My confidence only continues to fade. Noticing this, Lucy makes me look at her by grabbing my face between her hands.

- "Take a deep breath, baby."

I do as she asks, inhaling deeply while closing my eyes. It’s amazing the trust I have in her. She believes in me, and that’s all that matters. I smile slightly, feeling her lips against mine. I can’t afford to disappoint her after everything she’s done for me. It’s the least I can do for her. When I open my eyes, she greets me with her usual smile.

- Will you come pick me up?

- Of course, I’ve already told you. Just send me a text, and I’ll be there in a minute, she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I’ll never be far away.

I nod, returning her smile softly. I can do this. For her. I give her one last kiss before unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the door.

- See you later.

- See you later, my love.

I close the door on those final words. That nickname still makes my stomach flutter. I’m not bold enough to call her that yet. I’ve done it over text, but that’s different. I hope it will come naturally in time. Although she doesn’t complain about my hesitancy, I know that it could become an issue in the long run if I don’t change. I take a deep breath and check the time as I stand in front of the garage door. I’m early, but punctuality is always a good thing at work, right? I force myself not to look back where Lucy is still sitting in the car. Even though this place scares me, I need to prove I can handle things on my own. With a surge of courage, I knock on the metal door, which echoes loudly in the deserted street. Shortly after, a door I hadn’t noticed next to the garage opens. I blush at my mistake as a man with graying hair appears. He doesn’t seem to notice, smiling warmly at me. Despite his gray hair, he looks like he’s in his forties. He has a rather neat appearance, dressed in a suit without a tie or bow tie, and wearing loafers. His hair is shorter on the sides and barely styled on top, as if he just ran his hand through it with some gel. That’s probably what happened.

- Good morning, he says, cutting through my daze with his deep voice. You must be Ona Batlle?

- P-pardon... Good morning... That’s me.

I awkwardly shake his extended hand. He chuckles softly and opens the door wider, inviting me inside. Before stepping in, I glance back one last time at Lucy’s car. Unfortunately, it’s too far away to see her inside, though I’m sure she hasn’t missed a moment of this first encounter. Reluctantly, I turn back and step into this unfamiliar place. I feel uneasy, even more so with a stranger.

- Don’t be nervous, he says, closing the door behind us. My name is Bennett Fields. May I speak informally with you?

I stop myself from frowning. He started talking informally right from the beginning, so it’s odd that he’s asking now. It’s not like I would refuse.

- Of course, I say without thinking.

I glance around. From here, the place looks much less intimidating than it did outside. It’s warmer and much brighter than I expected. I understand why when I see a large glass window at the back of the room that opens onto a courtyard. The room isn’t very deep, but I notice an opening on the right. As I imagined, this isn’t a gallery but a studio. A studio well-stocked with supplies. It’s a paradise for an enthusiast like me.

- Glad to see you like the place.

I smile awkwardly and focus my attention back on him. The idea of being alone with a man I don’t know makes me nervous.

- I’ve never seen so many supplies in one place, I admit with admiration.

- I appreciate the spark of passion in your eyes. I must confess, this is the first time I’ve welcomed someone so young into my space, he says as he walks deeper into the room.

I quickly follow, trying to keep from daydreaming any further. I tend to get lost in thought when it comes to art, making it difficult to stay focused. We take the opening at the back. It leads to a hallway where the glass windows continue on our left. On the other side, there are also windows set in a black steel frame. It gives the place a true industrial feel, which I love.

- So why did you agree to meet with me?

The words slip out before I can stop them. Even though he turns to smile at me again, I feel foolish.

- Initially, I was very impressed with the talent displayed in your portfolio. When I tried to contact you directly, I was surprised to learn that I had to go through someone else first.

I bite my lip, knowing full well he’s talking about Lucy. He stops in front of another glass panel on our right. The doors have been carelessly left open. I see a much larger space than the entrance. This is where the artists work. Numerous easels with canvases on them stand in every corner of the room. In the middle, there’s a huge table with supplies already laid out. I can tell people have been here by the still-wet paint on one of the canvases. This discovery reassures me slightly. At least I’m not alone with him. The glass windows bring in a lot of light. Anyone who appreciates art knows that daylight is the best source.

- I learned that this person shared your portfolio without your knowledge, he continues as we walk down the hallway. We had a long conversation about you and the reasons that prompted her to do so, he says, finally stopping in front of a door.

When he opens it, I see it’s an office. He enters first, so I follow. With a wave of his hand, he invites me to sit in a chair in front of his desk, which I do without hesitation. I’m relieved not to have brought my bag or anything else cumbersome. He sits across from me, resting his chin on his hands, which he’s clasped together, and looks straight into my eyes.

- This person spoke very highly of you. She seems to care a great deal about you and believes in your abilities. She made me even more curious about you. I was slightly hesitant because of your school’s reputation, but she assured me that everyone has different struggles, and that unlike others, you’re a very decent person.

He pauses to take a deep breath.

- In short, if I invited you here, it’s because I wanted to meet you in person and form my own opinion. While I trust her words, I like to know who I’m dealing with.

I swallow hard and nod. I should have expected this. I did expect everything he just said. I even told Lucy that it was strange for him to welcome someone from our school, but she didn’t want to believe me. It seems she managed to sell me well. He keeps smiling at me. So far, I can’t quite figure him out. He’s warmer than I anticipated. I pictured him much older, more wrinkled, and less well-groomed.

- So, Ona Batlle... I’m not expecting you to talk about your life or professional background. I already know you graduated from high school and that you’ve been at Camp Wiegman since this year.

- Then what do you want me to talk about?

- The answer seems rather obvious... If I brought you here, it’s to talk about art. So, how did you develop your talents?

I shrug, not really knowing how to answer that question. There’s not much to say, really.

"I've always enjoyed drawing. I've been doing it constantly since childhood. I suppose it's an activity that has always helped clear my mind."

The man in front of me leans back in his chair, scratching the small beard growing on his chin. He seems to be absorbing my words with interest.

"So, if I understand correctly, you've never taken any classes or had an art teacher?"

I shake my head. My father wanted to enroll me in classes when he noticed that it was all I did, but my mother found it impossible. No one could take me when my father wasn't around, which was half the year. There were my grandparents, but they were still working at the time. They had a small shop they kept until they managed to sell it, since my father wasn't going to take it over given his job.

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Where do you find your inspiration, then?"

I tense up at this question, though I was expecting it. Every artist draws inspiration from somewhere. Mine was dark for many years. However, I'm not sure if that's still the case since Lucy came into my life. Based on my sketchbooks, it seems like she's managed to chase away all the negative thoughts from my mind. He hasn't even had the chance to see my worst works.

"My family, my friends," I reply vaguely. "Most of the time, I just recreate what I see around me."

"The sketchbook I saw had landscapes. Did they mean something to you?"

"Yes... I was in conflict with the person I saw them with. I needed to release my frustration and their absence."

He gives a small, mischievous smile that quickly disappears as he regains his seriousness.

"Have you ever tried doing anything other than reproductions?"

"No... Well, very rarely. I've tried, but I always felt like it didn’t look right. However, I do draw portraits sometimes, and though I haven't done much, I've always wanted to learn abstract and contemporary art."

He nods without giving away what he's thinking. As I say this, I feel like I'm admitting I can't do much. Nowadays, reproductions don't impress people anymore. Yet that's what I do. I'm just an amateur, and that’s exactly what makes me doubt my abilities.

"Good," he smiles. "All of this is very interesting. Your mentor wasn’t wrong about you."

I bite my tongue at the term he uses for Lucy. I would have preferred that he didn't know that kind of thing. Especially since she's my girlfriend now.

"I have one last question for you. I promised your mentor I wouldn't push you too hard, so I'll understand if you don't want to answer."

I nod, frowning slightly. Lucy must have talked to him at length for him to know so much about me.

"I know you have a painful past, according to your mentor. I'd like to know if it's still your source of inspiration?"

"No," I answer without hesitation. "I had dark paintings for a long time, but I recently met someone who helped me move out of that phase. It's when I think of that person that I now draw my inspiration."

A new smile appears on his face. It feels like he knows exactly who I'm talking about. I hope I'm wrong. To my surprise, he doesn't say anything else and gets up from his chair.

"What do you think about giving me a little demonstration? I'm intrigued by what you can actually do, and I'd like to see for myself how you handle a brush."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Of course. I'd like to see how you work in your element. Then, if the results are satisfying, we can talk about what's next. What do you think?"

I nod enthusiastically. Talking about what’s next. Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Although everything isn’t settled yet, he's giving me hope that it might happen. I hope I can make a good impression with my technique now. Lucy was right about one thing when she tried to reassure me—I’m in my element here. I have nothing to be afraid of. If nothing works out here, then I'll be motivated to try elsewhere. Lucy was right; here, I’m in my element. I shouldn’t be afraid to be in my element, or else I’ll never feel comfortable anywhere.

"Alright," he smiles. "Let's get to it. I'm eager to see what you can do."

I expected the interview to be much longer and more personal. Yet, he stayed very focused on questions related to art, and that motivates me to show him what I'm capable of. He also managed to make me feel comfortable around him. Without any hesitation, I follow him to the workshop we passed earlier. As we exit, I notice he didn't even close the door behind him. Who doesn’t close the door during an interview? A small smile spreads across my lips at the thought that Lucy might have ordered him to do such a thing, though I could be wrong. As I focus on the room from earlier, I notice it’s no longer empty. A woman in her thirties has appeared. She’s continuing the painting I noticed when I first arrived. I greet her timidly as I continue to follow Mr. Fields. He stops in front of an easel at the back of the room, surrounded by various materials. It looks like he planned all this. I don't even know where to look. Seeing this, he smiles again.

"Go ahead, have fun, and above all, don’t hold back your imagination. That’s where your inspiration comes from, after all."

For the first time since I got here, I genuinely smile. The thought of having all this to myself, even for just one painting, excites me like a three-year-old child who just got a present. Without hesitation, I grab a brush to start my painting, with my only inspiration being the emerald eyes of my girlfriend.

Tuesday, February 23; 2:15 PM - Manchester

With a heavy heart full of hope, we're back at the warehouse. I think the interview went well. Mr. Fields insisted that I eat with him and a few of the artists who were there today. I couldn't really refuse, so I accepted after informing Lucy. I loved being with them. They made me feel comfortable, and they talked a lot about how they ended up here. Now that we’re back, I realize it’s the end of the meeting when Mr. Fields shakes my hand.

"Thank you for your warm welcome."

"It was my pleasure. I'll contact you once I've made my decision. In the meantime, I wish you good luck with your final exams, and maybe I'll see you soon."

I watch him return to the warehouse before breaking into a big smile. I hope this works out! I was about to send a message to Lucy so she could come pick me up, but I see that she’s already there when I turn toward the spot where she was this morning. I quickly cross the street and get into the car. I don’t give her time to speak before I kiss her without restraint. None of this would have been possible without her. Lucy giggles against my lips, gently pushing me back.

"Hey," she says with a hint of amusement. "I take it everything went well?"

"It was amazing! I think I have a chance. I mean, he was really cool with me. We talked a bit, and then he let me draw. A lot, actually! He even helped me improve on some things. Obviously, I still have a lot to learn, but I think he’s really interested in my profile, and—"

- "Wow, breathe, Ona," she laughs.

I stop to actually catch my breath. Without warning, I cradle her face and kiss her again. I’m feeling so emotional right now, and it makes me want to be as close to her as possible. She gently places her hands on my wrists to calm me down again. I pull away, blushing with embarrassment.

- "Just thank you. Thank you for everything. This is all thanks to you."

- "I didn't do much. You should thank yourself for your obvious talent."

- "I'm not thanking you for that. Well, yes, of course, but mostly I’m thanking you for all the support you’ve given me. Because of you, I might finally have the future I’ve always wanted. I needed someone who believed in me more than I believed in myself, so thank you."

Lucy's expression softens at my words. She smiles tenderly and kisses my cheek.

- "The pleasure is all mine, my love. And now, how about you tell me what he said, hmm?"

It seems her curiosity is suddenly piqued. So, I start recounting everything from the beginning as she starts driving. I begin with the interview, which felt too short in my opinion. Then, I tell her about when I started painting. For the first time in my life, I tried painting something abstract. Mr. Fields was rather amused, knowing that I had never done it before, but he appreciated my boldness in trying to impress him. However, he eventually stopped me, preferring that I paint something I was more comfortable with. He then suggested that one of his employees pose for me. I had no trouble doing that, and that’s when he started giving me pointers on some of my techniques. After that, I couldn’t stop. I kept painting, over and over, in my element.

- "You must have really enjoyed the interview if you agreed to have lunch with them."

I blush and nod. Coming here, I never imagined I would stay so long or feel so comfortable in the end. If I wasn’t sure before, I now know that I want to make art my career.

- "Yeah, it was really cool."

- "What did he say about what happens next?"

- "He was surprised by what I can do without taking a single class. Before we left for the restaurant, he told me that if he takes me under his wing, I’ll have to take classes to improve and expand my knowledge. I hope my skills and motivation will convince him to keep me."

- "I have no doubt about that, baby. I’m sure you managed to impress him."

I smile as she places her hand on my knee. I love that she does that every time we’re driving somewhere. It makes me feel like I belong to her.

- "Now you just have to keep your promise for tonight," I tease.

A genuine laugh escapes her lips.

- "I suppose so, yes. I never doubted that everything would go well, you know."

- "Then why did you say that?"

- "Because you’ve become much more reasonable than you were a few months ago. The fact that you were drinking didn’t bother me. It was the fact that you were overdoing it and had no limits."

I bite my lip, fully understanding what she means. I’m not that reckless girl anymore, and now she trusts me. Even if I drink to the point of not remembering, she won’t hold it against me like she used to. Especially now that she’ll always be by my side. I’ve realized why she refused to let me go to parties for so long. She wanted me to learn the lesson, not punish me forever.

- "And by the way... How are the girls doing?"

Her deep groan makes it clear that she must have had a terrible morning.

- "Full of energy, if you ask me. Instead of helping with my stress, they spent their time making fun of me."

- "You should have expected that," I giggle. "Who would have thought they’d end up together," I say thoughtfully. "I still can’t quite wrap my head around it."

- "I’m happy they did," she admits to me. "They’re perfect for each other. And at least we know they’re both doing well."

- "You never told me much about Ingrid. I mean, I knew you were close, but I never knew how."

- "She was a great support to me when Keira died. She started off as just my manager, then became an instructor, but she quickly became a great friend. She helped me get out and introduced me to her friends who became mine... And Jenni became hers."

- "You’re a solid group."

- "We are," she smiles softly. "We each have our own stories."

- "Does Ingrid have one?"

- "You could say that. She was estranged from her parents, so she left home early to strike out on her own."

- "Is that why you think they’re made for each other?"

- "In a way... You see, they didn’t have anyone else besides their friends... So yes, I think they’re meant to be together, if only for that reason. They’ll have the chance to form a new family if things last between them."

I nod in agreement. She’s right. The one thing Mapi was missing was a family. Of course, she always said I was her family, but I could tell something was missing. I could have been that for her if we had been together, but that wasn’t the case. Ingrid is her new family, and that thought warms my heart for my best friend. At least this time, I really like her new girlfriend. I take a deep breath, thinking about a second thing Lucy mentioned. She rarely talks about Keira, so I gently prompt her to continue.

- "So Keira brought you closer... Her death affected your work too, didn’t it?"

- "A lot, yes," she replies without hesitation. "Keira loved that I took this job when I started. She always said I would save many people like her. I was supposed to start right after her death, so my work became very personal. I became cold but deeply involved in every case I had to handle."

- "That’s how you earned your nickname, Commander," I murmur. "Is that why you don’t like it when I call you that?"

Her hand tightens on my thigh for a moment, but she nods.

- "Yeah... I’m sorry, baby."

- "Don’t apologize. I’m glad you’re talking to me about it. Was I the only one with a drug problem?"

- "No, but you were the only one I had to personally take care of. Honestly, your addiction surprised me. Wiegman had promised not to give me such cases, especially after Keira. So, I expected many things from you, but not that."

- "Why did he do it then...?"

- "I’m still asking myself that question today. He knew your mother. He wanted to resolve your case in a year, and I think deep down, he knew I was the only one who would understand you."

- "And he wasn’t wrong," I affirm.

- "He wasn’t wrong," she confirms. "I defended you on things he didn’t expect. That’s why he trusts me so much with you. It’s a good compromise given our relationship."

We’ve arrived back at her building. This conversation was enlightening and more unsettling than I expected. I turn to her when we’re parked.

- "Lucy," I start hesitantly.

- "Don’t say anything."

- "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

- "Yes, I do," she says with amusement. "And now is not the time to tell me you love me."

My open mouth closes immediately. How did she know? The words have been on the tip of my tongue for some time now, but I haven’t been able to say them yet.

- "Your eyes tell me enough, Ona, but please, say it when you’re really ready. You’re too emotional right now, and I don’t want you to say it impulsively."

I hate it when she’s right. I feel so foolish that I blush stupidly. She unbuckles her seatbelt while looking me straight in the eyes.

- "Well, how about we bake some cookies before we get ready for tonight? I did some shopping, and I think Joan will be delighted to have some when she comes over tomorrow."

- "Oh yes, that’s a great idea. He loves them."

- "I have no doubt he does, if he loves them as much as you do," she giggles.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for accidentally outing my fiance?

I (27F) am engaged to a 24M guy. He is trans, but he doesn't identify as trans anymore - he's post-everything, passes 100%, lives stealth/as a cis man, and no one who didn't know him pre-transition knows him as anything but a cis man. I know keeping that up is very important to him, we've had a lot of conversations about how happy he is just being seen as cis and being able to pass. I know getting outed and 'found out' is also a big worry of his, for example for our upcoming wedding he's rushing around trying to make it clear to his family that they shouldn't mention him being trans or refer to him as she/her at our wedding because he has so many friends coming who don't know he's trans. It's not that he doesn't trust them or he's ashamed of being trans or anything, he's very supportive of his trans friends, but he just doesn't publicly live as trans.

We're in a big Discord server of friends that have been quite close for about a year now, enough that we've met multiple of them in person and two of them are going to be in his wedding party as sort of 'best man' equivalents (we're not really sticking to bridesmaid best man stuff just our mixed gender friends). He has kept his Facebook very private for as long as I've known him, the only people on there are IRL friends and family because he has in the past posted trans stuff on there, like transition updates, it still has old pictures of him pre-T or in early transition, etc. I knew he didn't want this found. He also hadn't told any of this group aside from the people he was especially close with and had invited to the wedding his surname and location in case they looked him up and found something.

People in the server were sharing their Facebook profiles and I shared mine so people could add me. My fiance messaged me right after pointing out that me sharing mine would dox him as I had him in my relationship status and friends list, but I unfortunately didn't see this message for a while as I was distracted and doing other things. By the time I saw, everyone in the group had already clicked and gone through my profile and found his.

He tried to go through and speed-delete everything he could find that was public that mentioned him being trans or showed him pre-transition, any comments from family referring to it, etc but pictures that were set to friends only were still popping up in previews on the side and some of his family have public profiles that show cover images with him pre-T and things like that.

Our friends were making jokes about finally knowing his surname, going through his whole account down to the time it was first made back in 2018, commenting on old statuses of his, so they definitely saw his profile and went through all of it. He was panicking because he had no way of knowing if they'd seen that he's trans or not and got super upset and freaked out about the possibility, and he couldn't ask without outing himself or making them suspicious.

I apologized and deleted the link but obviously by then it was too late.

I do think it's not a huge deal as much as he thinks because I know our friends would be supportive and wouldn't think of him differently, but I know it was still important to him. I'm not sure they did see because some of our friends are the type to have just blurted out "You're trans?!" in the server without thinking about it (not because they're malicious or judging it, but some of them aren't as online and don't really know how to talk about it sensitively if that makes sense) and they didn't say anything. However he thinks they did because they were talking about statuses older than the ones he managed to get to deleting in time.

Like I said i did apologize but I feel like he's still upset with me for not thinking before sending my profile. On top of that I have kind of a habit of doing things impulsively and without thinking (I have bpd and bipolar) and not always taking into account how it will affect him or what consequences it will have,which I've been working on for years but I worry this is just adding to that which I know already wears on him.

What are these acronyms?

[thatsmybook]

A few times, I've heard Lisa and Rojda talk about how Young Royals is about the class system and a queer Prince, but also, it's relatable because not only do the cast look like teenagers, they act like teenagers in today's world. So it's also a show about teenagers. With that in mind, I'd like to talk about Simon Eriksson, working class, immigrant, and mixed race student at Hillerska, falling in love with the Prince.

Simon, in S1, deliberately kept any problems about Sara and his life at Hillerska hidden from his mum because he did not want to burden her. He lied to reassure her when she'd get worried about Sara and equally made decisions to help Sara's wellbeing at school. It seemed that he was taking care of his mum and sister when his dad left and after the abusive relationship that seemed to have really affected the whole family. This is why he doesn't share anything bad that he's going through with his mum. He's trying to protect her. He always has.

As to the comments he is getting. I think he is reading them because often they concern his family and are from the people in their town. That, along with the phone calls at night and hate-mail mentioned by Linda at the court hearing in S3 ep1, this means that he's on hyper-vigilance about threats to him and his family. So, my theory is that he is monitoring his comments and engaging to try to defuse things. But just like in all 3 seasons, his actions often lead to more problems.

This is a 16 year old kid, the youngest in his family, doing things an adult should be doing. This is very relatable for many working-class single parent families. Something to add about first-generation kids of immigrant families, having an extra layer of working to help the family navigate the country and society they're in.

Also, as to the comments, there have been many real life incidents, unfortunately , of teenagers getting hate comments online from their peers and bullied to the point of taking their own lives. Simply telling them not to read the comments may not have worked for them. (Yet so many reactors to this season think it's that simple).

Simon is getting a volumous amount of hate comments, which started right after the sex video was released in S1. At that point, the comments were in the print media.

He needs actual support, less obliviousness from the adults in his life about what is happening to him (that includes the Royal Court), and understanding about the actual effect of comments on his mental health from everyone around him. He is a victim of actual hate, and when I hear about any child going through that kind of regular abuse, my heart goes out to them.

Seeing how supportive Simon's dad could be in this 3rd season in his conversations with Sara, we can see how much Simon actually misses his dad. Because had he had a relationship with him, without the baggage of Sara's need for distance, he would have probably noticed that Simme needed help and been quite good at it, when he could manage it.

However, we as the audience seem to be blinded by Wille's more important problems, partly because the show is largely from his POV, but also because his pressures seem bigger. As a result, I've seen fans come down on Simon for not putting his life's woes in perspective to support Wille more. We start to see big cracks in their relationship and start to feel that they just won't work out.

But, they're also just kids in their first relationship. Miscommunication is completely normal at that age. They've only just been spending actual time with each other this season and getting to know each other. Yet they are dealing with adult problems, and so many of us fans are shouting at the screen - talk to each other! I feel like, if I were one of them, there is so much weight on me that I'd be too scared to open the floodgates and actually tell my boyfriend what's happening because I don't want to scare him. And no wonder they spend most of their time making out. It's the easiest part of their relationship and what gives them actual joy at the moment.

So I give grace to these characters and kudos to the creators of the show, for showing ACTUAL teenagers dealing with real life problems, amplified for drama because of the dichotomy of being a Prince and a commoner. But, I don't judge ANY of the characters when I apply the same analysis I've given here to Simon to all the other four characters. What this show requires of us adults is empathy for their plight and maybe a closer look at the teenagers in our lives. What it does for the teen audience is show them that they're not alone when they mess up or are dealing with life pressures. We as a society won't judge them. We will work to understand them and share their burdens.

[papaya-queen]

Soo I was looking at the future line up possibility for Prema… I thought I could share my thoughts.

Ollie Bearman – Announced to drive for Haas F1. Pretty predictable after his performance in Jeddah. Baky confirmed that he is ready for F1 and for the car he’s gonna get.

Kimi Antonelli – Announced to drive for Mercedes F1. It was almost certain with Toto pushing him. I’m kinda worried we’ll end up with a Logan type of situation but I’m still confident in his skills.

Arvid Lindblad – Announced to drive for Campos F2. It appears that Redbull Junior team and Campos have some sorts of arrangements so it’s a logical thing.

PREMA 2025 LINE-UP

F2

Gabriele Mini – Remarkable drive this season, I’m still gutted about the championship. Prema will likely keep him.

Dino Beganovic – I know it’s unlikely, the streets are saying that he’s going to less expensive team because of a lack of fund. But Prema might still try to keep him since they don’t have anyone else to sign in F2. (I’m trying to manifest it)

F3

Rafael Camara – He is absolutely crashing the FRECA championship so it’s just a logical step up for him. Plus, the Ferrati Driver Academy seems to be close with Prema.

James Wharton – He is in a really good position in the FRECA championship and has already made his F3 debut.

Alex Powell/Freddie Slater – Okay so this the complicated part. Freddie is MaxVerstappen2023-ing the Italian F4 championship and should go directly to F3. But he doesn’t have an academy backing… I think it’s by choice and good for him but without an academy backing him, trying to skip a level might be hard. So, my second guess is Alex Powell. Mercedes junior since a long time, he made his debut in single seater this year in Italian f4 and has shown really good results. He has multiple podiums in overall championship, several rookie wins, he is now leader of the rookie championship and 5th in overall. For comparison, Arvid Lindblad had 8 rookie wins, 4 pole positions and 6 wins in the whole season. Right now, with still two rounds left, Alex has 8 rookie wins, 5 podiums and 1 pole position. My other argument is that Mercedes might not want two drivers in the same championship which leads me to the next point.

FRECA

Rashid Al Dhaheri/Kean Nakamura Berta – Rashid had a good performance from him in F4. Good contender for a freca seat. Kean also had a really good performance especially for a rookie and with the help of Alpine he might go up.

This is where it gets complicated again.

Doriane Pin and Maya Weug could continue F1A since they are only in their first season. But they both had FRECA experience (Doriane currently, Maya in 2023 plus a round this year), and looking at their results in F1A this year, they could manage a transition towards FRECA. Doriane is likely to do so, continuing with Iron Dames or maybe switching to Prema. Maya could maybe transition with PREMA also.

And this where my point from earlier could take place. If Doriane continues in FRECA, Alex might not be on the FRECA line up especially if she continues with PREMA. Mercedes might not want two drivers in the same championship.

So third seat, either Alex Powell/Freddie Slater– So for the first two it’s the same argument as before. Freddie might not be able to jump directly to F3 and Alex might go here if Freddie get the seat.

F4

Honestly here guys, I have no idea. Tomass is likely to stay maybe with Kean and Dion. Prema might do the same as they did recently with Oleksandr Bondarev and bring Luna Fluxa in after she turn 15.

F1 Academy

Tina Haussman – Likely to stay for a second season. She hasn’t had the best luck in this season so she couldn’t prove her talent.

Nina Gademan – she’s likely to take a seat in F1A after her impressive debut.

??

So yeah, that was my little rant about Prema. Feel free to reblog or comment to add your opinion.

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (8)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Friendly banter, overworking

Summary: You’re a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You’ve been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! (If I missed any tags, please let me know, I’ll add you right away!) I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

“You have it?” Loki raised a brow at this, pulling out his phone to see her full name and some extra information about her that Steve had stored on his phone. The sight of it only made his mood even more sour as he shoved the device back into the pocket it came from after saving it. “Quite a bit of information you have saved on here.”

“Yeah? It’s stuff I picked up on overtime.” The innocent, casual shrug of his shoulders held arrogance in the eyes of the God of Mischief. A smug punctuation of how the star-studded super soldier was able to freely come and go from the library and he was not.

“Oh? ‘Just stuff’ that you picked, huh? ‘Overtime’ you say? What kind of ‘just stuff’ did you save overtime?” Tony leaned in closer, a smug little smirk on his face with a twinkle of interest in his eyes.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Tony. Y/N and I are just friends. Don’t go spreading unnecessary rumors. It’s nice to just have someone to talk to and not have to worry too much.” The stern tone in his voice earned a groaning sigh and eye roll from the impulsive scientist. “Also, dating in the workplace is unprofessional and would inevitably lead to complications.” 

Romantic involvements are always troublesome. Loki silently agreed, the tension in his shoulders slipping away as Steve made it clear that there was nothing going on between the two of them. The last thing I need is her feeding him misinformation or him spying for her to see what I’m saying or doing. I require access to the library, not an extended sentence. He reasoned with himself.

“Mr. Rules strikes again, don’t you know any other tricks? Or is justice and teacher’s pet your only ones? I don’t even know why I bother talking to you, give me her number. There’s something there, I know there is!” Loki sat up straight at the words that came out of the short Midgardian. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Share her contact with me.” The prince’s eye twitched at the demand. He could not fathom why all of them wanted her number now that it was clear that none of them actually had it. What good was there in having contact information for someone that would never be contacted.

Especially when his interests were more fickle than the tide, ever-changing from one stupid notion to the next.

“I’ll pass on that,” Steve rolled his eyes at the petulant child look that Tony gave him. Loki silently agreed with this decision. “But you’re more than welcomed to get it from yourself.”

No, he is not! What sort of denial is that?! You may as well have given him the damned number if you’re giving permission to get it! His jaw ached from how tightly it was clenched, his leg rapidly bouncing under the table. Thor noticed the changes in his younger brother’s demeanor, but said nothing. He figured the company of the others was the cause, and as the elder of the two, he thought it best that Loki grew accustomed to the presence of the other Avengers.

“Are you gatekeeping her number? Why not just give it to me?”

“Because, I want you to actually work for something. Plus, this is just you trying to get under my skin, and you’re not actually going to go after her to get her number, Tony, I know you. This is a shiny new toy that you’re going to forget about the moment something else comes along.”

“You do like to play with things and toss ‘em aside when you’re bored.” Clint agreed, sipping his drink as he nudged the empty tray forward. “You’re not actually going to call her anyway.”

“Et tu, Robin Hood?” Tony gasped in horror. “Is that what all of you think of me? That I’m someone so callous to just use a poor innocent maiden like Y/N and just throw her away like yesterday’s newspaper the next day? I am offended. I’ll show you, me and her, we’re going to be like this.” He entwined his index and middle finger of one hand before standing up from the table. “You’ll see, and you’ll all regret it!” He threw his nose into the air and left, the others amused by his dramatics as they continued to not take him seriously. The only person not amused was Loki. They all goaded the chatty Tin-Man into actually getting her number instead of leaving her alone, the exact opposite of what should have been done.

It’s horrible enough that Major Constellations over here frequents the place, and he’s friendly with her, now I’ll have to share my sanctuary with that aluminum can? I refuse to accept this! There has to be some logic I’m missing, unless this is all some ploy to ruin my peace and quiet. No, I can’t be, can it? They’re all trying to ruin what little solace I have here? He eyed the remainder of the group suspiciously. Thor is working with me on that infernal project that started this mess, I doubt he is tied to it. The straight-laced sergeant only comes when he needs to for missions. I don’t think I’ve seen the bird-man there. That leaves just that nuisance of an existence, but his focus is currently on troubling their leader. Perhaps that is all there is to it? If it truly is, then I have nothing to worry about, so long as I get to her first and convince her to not share her contact information. To do that, I need her to first lift this Stygian banishment!

“Well, I thank you for her number, you proved most helpful in this matter of miscommunication. I should start putting my efforts towards composing a proper response, so I take my leave.” Loki stood from the table and left without giving anyone a chance to pry anymore than they already had.

“Director Y/LN, looks like everything checks out here. The programs are all running and there hasn’t been any repetition of the errors we first faced.” The weary voice of her subordinate pulled Y/N’s attention from her laptop screen.

“About time,” Y/N pushed a chipper tone into her voice to mask the true exhaustion that had taken lodging inside her. Lacing her fingers together, she turned her palms outwards and stretched as she sighed. “I swear, technology isn’t as amazing as it’s cracked up to be…especially when it flops like this first thing.” She grumbled as she logged the successful trial and cleared this site as operational.

“When it acts up, I can’t agree more. When it’s working, I have no complaints.” Her subordinate’s soft chuckle could not mask the fatigue. “C’mon, it’s late, but we still have time to grab dinner. The rest of us are heading out to celebrate that we’re finally online!” The eager twinkle in those brown eyes made the offer more tempting, but Y/N had to decline. 

“You gotta join us, Chief!” Another chimed in, hearing her answer.

“Pretty please?” Came another plea.

“I really wish I could, but I’ve got a red-eye to catch. I need to finalize and submit the report before I’m off.” Y/N closed her laptop and pointed to the large clock on the wall.

“Damn, they’re really not giving you any wiggle room, huh?”

“That’s not fair at all! Other directors don’t go running around like they’re making you. This is abuse!”

“Let’s not get too hasty, I choose to handle certain things personally to make sure it’s done properly. It reduces the chances of unnecessary back-and-forth. Next time we can celebrate, I promise. Thanks for all your hard work, everyone. Let’s keep it up and get this project completed as soon as possible.” With a chorus of confirmations and cheers. Y/N packed her things and gave one last wave before leaving back to her hotel. 

She dropped back onto the awaiting mattress, heaving a heavy sigh as she finally let the fatigue show itself. For the last five weeks, Y/N flew between all the S.H.I.E.L.D. locations that had a library department to manage the setup and checks of the new system that was provided per location as promised. She had been formally trained on the software, but sat through the boring session with the staff each and every time it was given. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were to die now, her last words would probably be incoherent ramblings from the lecture. The only good news in all this was that she was finally done. This flight would bring her one step closer to her much-needed comfy bed in her small, cozy apartment.

Forcing herself up, she pulled out her laptop to edit her report one last time before sending it off and logging out for the remainder of the evening. She changed to something comfortable and made sure everything was packed away and ready to go before ordering room service.

At least they don’t cheap out on where I stay and pick up the tab entirely. She leaned back into the padded headboard that was attached to the wall. “Did I check in to my flight? Crap, I don’t think I did.” She muttered, feelings round the covers until she found her phone hidden away under a pillow. A good hour and a half was burned away through all her editing and rechecking the report. Her stomach growled in protest. Gently patting the disgruntled creature, she quickly checked in through the app and sighed with relief at the boarding pass notification on her status bar. It was then that she noticed the message notification that was sitting there unread, still. 

The corners of her lips tugged downwards into a frown. Y/N could have sworn that she read all of her messages. Opening the texting application, she noticed the unknown number had sent about 3 messages to her, the latest being from a couple of days ago. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the glowing screen, trying to recall anything. When nothing came to her, she gave in and opened the chat. Her jaw dropped as it all cam rushing back to her.

Oh shit, I’m in trouble now! She lightly and rapidly hit the heel of her left hand into her forehead several times. Way to go, Y/N, you completely ignored someone for almost three weeks now! “What do I do, what do I do?! Obviously, I need to reply, but how?!” She bit her lower lip, typing, reading, erasing, and retyping too many times to count before giving up at the knock at her door. Paying the server a tip, she sat at the table and began to eat. Clearly she needed food to get her brain in some semblance of working order as she reread the messages.

<Librarian, this is Loki, the second prince of Asgard. It has come to my attention that you have been working under a misunderstanding. Remove the banishment order.> It was the first text that came roughly three weeks ago.

<Librarian, this is not amusing. You placed a banishment order with no means for me to rectifying your misunderstanding by leaving the facility. Remove it at once.> This second text came four days after the first.

<Why do you not answer me, woman? I have repeatedly asked you to remove your misguided decision, and it has yet to be fixed.>  This text, which made her snort, came almost two weeks ago. <I know you have read my texts.> 

None of this is asking me anything, you’re demanding. She rolled her eyes.

<Perhaps my prior texts were not properly worded. As per the insistent pestering of my brother and the others, I am messaging you again. I did not intentionally ignore you the day you banished me from the library. I had just come from a lengthy training session and review/strategy meeting afterwards. The only thing I had done between then and arriving at the library was to refresh myself in my quarters to be more presentable in public. The ‘promise’ I made slipped my mind completely, but I had no control over that matter due to how long it took. You make ask your precious admiral if you wish to confirm my story, or you can request the data of that session to prove the time. With all that being said, I understand why you would be upset. I would greatly appreciate it if you would remove the order given to the system so that I may read peacefully in the library once more.> She was surprised to see such a lengthy text coming after all the short, demanding ones that came before it. What surprised her even more was the last text sent earlier today when she was fighting with the program errors. <Are you alright? You have not read my last text.><Sorry for replying so late, I was tied up with my work. Also, I accept your ‘apology’. By ‘admiral’, do you mean CAPTAIN America, Steve?> It took her a minute to realize who he was referring to, and she nearly fell out of her seat laughing at the mistake no one has ever made. At least not to her. <Why would I go ask him or check the records? I doubt you’re lying about a long session, I trust you. Sadly, you’ll have to wait until I’m back on site to cancel the order. I can only do those type of changes while on S.H.I.E.L.D. grounds and on their network. Good news is I’ll be back Monday, so just two more days!> She confidently sent her reply and finished the rest of her meal. Glancing at the clock, she sighed and called for the driver to come as she made her way to the lobby and checked out. Soon you’ll be home, Y/N, soon.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @jainaeatsstars @msdjsg7 @tom-hlover @kneelingformyloki @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @evalynanne

[starry-eyedblog]

pt 2 of bad boy bf simon

didnae realise how popular this would become and i must keep yous all fed, so enjoy more headcanons!

he takes you to meet ups with his friends, all of them showing off their own bikes while you sit pretty behind him and watch quietly while they chatter. they all tease you, for how opposite to simon you are and how he managed to bag a pretty wee thing like you

he also likes to smoke weed, alone and with you - especially since he knows your parents would hate it. he’ll smoke a blunt with you sat in his lap, shotgunning the smoke into your mouth with a tight grip on your jaw

pays for absolutely everything, will not let you even take your card when going out for dates. you need some new clothes? he’s already waltzing you around town. you want your nails done? he’s placing a voucher worth £200 into your hands

he has his own place, while you still stay at your parents. you constantly beg them to let you stay at his for sleepovers but they strongly disapprove, worried he’ll get you hooked on coke or whatever bad boys do in their spare time (they both definitely assume he sells drugs)

to add to the last, the both of you get around this by you lying and saying you’re staying at a friends house they trust then simon picks you up a few streets down on his bike

simon wants you to move into his place, and he always drops it in subtly like, ‘this flat is too big for just me’ or ‘can imagine all your things in my flat, would be an absolute tip’ - he thinks he’s being subtle

defo has piercings and the list is; one eyebrow, one nostril, tongue, lobes - one on the right and two on the left, and either a lorum or jacob’s ladder

very much that trope of mean and blunt to everyone except you, you’re his weakness !!

and lastly, this man is always finding himself in fights - especially over you. someone looks at you wrong in the bar? he’s throwing first punch. a guy made a comment about you or the way you’re dressed? he’s getting his teeth knocked oot. some late nights he goes out, leaving all your texts unopened for hours before coming back hours later with fresh bruises and cuts that you see the next time the two of you hangout. he’ll never tell you why, just that it’s all sorted now and you dinnae need to worry your pretty heid

@bjornthebearguy

[lycankeyy]

Jesus Christ these doodles already feel so old . I was not lying I really am using this fixation to speedrun learning to draw humans LMAO. Anyway I made some of those silly "understand ship in 5 minutes" memes with my Favorite pairings in funkycule au not ALL of them just the ones that I brainrot hardest about. If I did one for all of them we'd be here all day I'd probably hit image limit it's called the funkycule for a reason

ANYWAY infodumping/details under the cut:

BF/GF/Pico:

I am a "BF and GF are Fucking Tall™️" truther because it's funny to me. With BF it's harder to tell because his posture is absolutely atrocious but GF is just So Fucking Tall

I'm going to be honest with the gender headcanon for BF. I guess I default to him being transmasc but I can see him as. Like. Anything. In fact I think he's just every gender. But I'm a coward so he's transmasc for the purposes of the chart. GF is a girl but identifying her as "cis" or "trans" doesn't mean much when demon genders don't really work like that. It's complicated. Pico is just a guy

Pico likes being the big spoon because he likes knowing that his partners are safe. However GF likes being the big spoon More. The result is Pico Sandwich. He will never admit it but Pico feels the safest he ever has in his entire life when he is being Pico Sandwiched

BF is very much a verbal affection type of guy. Yes he is nonverbal. His words of affection are various dubstep noises. His partners appreciate it so much

BF grew up kinda spoiled and never really learned how to cook. However after noticing that Pico is like extremely bad at feeding himself (canon six pack means nothing to me. That boy is skin and bones I won't be told otherwise /silly) he for the first time managed to convince himself to try it and he got Really into it he's actually good at it. He still loses his mind when GF makes him pb&j sammiches for dinner though it's his favorite thing in the world

Pico is Insanely overprotective mostly because he's extremely hypervigilant and sees potential danger in everything. BF is the exact opposite and even in situations where he's in immediate danger he'll be ironically more worried about Pico getting too worried about it. GF is also pretty ditzy about this due to her confidence that her boys can handle Anything but if either of them ever got hurt she would explode everyone in a 50 mile radius with her mind so like that counts for something

Random headcanon: the group's favorite date night activity is looking up an extremely bad movie and then commentating over it like old-school rage youtubers the whole time in an effort to see who can get the others to laugh the hardest. BF wins often because the flatness of the TTS voice he uses adds something to the humor of it

Pico/Darnell:

I kinda bounced around with what label to use for Darnell for a while. I definitely see him as arospec, with the stipulation that he does feel romantic attraction just like very not traditionally and after a Long Time. After going between quoiromantic and demiromantic for a bit I landed on grey bc it's open-ended enough to encompass it. The point is it took Darnell like 3 full years to realize that his feelings were less platonic than he thought and even then theyre still like. Only half-romantic lmao

Unfortunately as he cannot provide the Pico Sandwich Darnell is getting little spoon'd by a guy nearly a foot shorter than him. F

Pico and Darnell are pretty verbally coarse with each other in a way only people who've been through the amount of shit they have been together can be w/o jeopardizing their relationship. That being said they often express affection and insane amounts of trust through actions very frequently, sometimes even without either of them realizing. Them immediately making up after weekend 1 was one of those times lol

I put Pico on the "squashes the bug" end of both charts but in reality I think he just takes them outside unless it's like a gnat or something. Darnell isn't scared of bugs he just wonders what would happen if he set one on fire. Pico refuses to let him set them on fire

Even though Pico 2 is in a weird limbo state in funkycule just like it is irl, there's still some point in the timeline where Pico expressed protectiveness over Darnell, to the point where, years later, when Darnell heard Pico took down a whole army for BF and GF, he got jealous, because that was supposed to be their thing >:(. This was quickly followed by his Oh moment

Random headcanon: Pico and Darnell had been acquaintances for the whole time they were in school together, but they became friends when Pico (and Nene by proxy) were the only kids to continue hanging out with him after The Class Presentation Gone Wrong (Darnell Plays with Fire). To return the favor, Darnell stuck by Pico even after the events of PS fundamentally changed him as a person. Though their relationship can be messy, they've been virtually inseperable since.

Nene/Cassandra:

The levels of toxicity of this are mostly dependant on When in the timeline by the time these two are like 21 they've normalized a bit dw lmao

Okay so like. I've made so much Lore. For Pico's School. For no reason. Anyway penilians have nothing against child soldiers so Cas was shipped off to infiltrate Earth at the penilian equivalent of 13. Also while on a surface level she's transfem in more depth it's like "all penilians are One Sex and have One Gender so technically she is xenogender, using neopronouns, and if you want to be extra silly with it, by the time she's 19 she's functionally alienkin but for humans as a coping mechanism for being banished to earth (dw abt it)"

[Projects my trauma and its side effects onto Nene] who said that

I didn't think much on the borrowing clothes thing until I realized that I draw Nene and Cassandra wearing the same style of turtlenecks I was like. Do you know what would be really funny

I don't have many intimate cute headcanons for these two Yet because I'm so early on in developing my shit and these two are Not cute at first. However I do like to imagine that Nene calls Cas all kinds of over-the-top cutesy or stupid nicknames just to get a reaction out of her. She called her a "vixen" as a furry joke + something between a compliment and insult once and she almost died

Nene is literally the only one in this entire cast who's never gotten her license suspended also she's somewhat good at car maintence which Cas find inexplicably hot

Giggles and kicks my feet at putting both Pico and Cassandra at the far end of the overprotectiveness spectrum. Anyway

Random headcanon: in the short period of time before Cas started ghosting Nene and FNF happening, they were in contact for One Christmas when they were like 15. Nene got Cas a cute little switchblade with hearts carved into the handle. Cas keeps it in a box by her bed and refuses to let anyone touch it or to let it ever get dirty.

If you have read this far I love you. Here is your reward should you choose to accept it:

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Giggling Teenager, The Bartender With A Heart of Gold And A Horse Named Duchess

You have no idea where you are going. The mystery woman stalks through the city as if she owns it – but she’s following the same signs you did to reach the freeway. Still dumbstruck by her rescue, you follow behind her silently. You owe her a blood-debt now, or at least a bullet-debt, and she seems to want you to follow her. She also didn’t kill you on sight or tell you to leave… so she’s already the nicest person you’ve met in the last nine years! If she leads you to your death, so be it.

The two of you reach the freeway before you even think of asking her name. It’s clogged by cars attempting to flee the city unsuccessfully. Shimmer grows between the open doors and rotting tires. The woman climbs atop the closest car and stands on the roof, hand on her hip, scrutinizing the horizon.

“We’re going to have to pick up the pace. Got any mobility issues I gotta worry about?” she questions you without even looking back.

“Uh, no, I should be fine,” you manage to stammer out.

She nods her head and grunts: “Good. We’ll take the car roofs from here on out. Don’t step in shimmer – you know the drill.”

“Got it,” you affirm, trying to scramble your way onto a car.

She turns around and offers you a hand, pulling you to your feet next to her. You smile shyly in thanks. She starts walking.

With nothing left to do, you follow her across car roofs and jump into truck beds as you avoid shimmer. She manages it effortlessly, as if she’s done this a hundred times. Maybe she has? Maybe she’s part of a nearby settlement who raids the city – maybe she killed that infected earlier?

You need answers. Finally mustering up the courage once there’s more bridge between you and the city than you and the wilderness, you open your mouth: “I thought I was a goner back there. Thank you, for saving my ass, uh…?”

“Sevika,” she grunts, hopping onto another car. After a pause, she adds: “And you’re… welcome.” It sounds awkward on her tongue. Almost foreign.

Despite her not asking, you offer her your name, and she grunts again.

“Pretty name. Suits you.”

That shuts you up for a while, rolling her comment over in your head and her name. You taste it silently with your tongue, wrapping your lips around the syllable.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?” Sevika questions you, offering you a hand out of a truck bed.

“Wasn’t intentional. Some jackass tried to accost me at gunpoint in the woods. Wanted my company. Pretty sure he wanted more than that, too. I shot him and bolted – didn’t even realize I was in the city until I stopped running. Think infected got him.”

“Sounds like he was a shithead.”

“Had the look of one, at least. What about you? You seemed like you knew that place pretty well.”

“Was getting supplies. Medicine, food, clothes. Gasoline for the generators – if there is any left. Barely found much of anything before my whole team got ambushed. We all rushed off in different directions, promised to meet up at the muster point. Thought you were one of them…”

“I’m sorry? That you thought I was one of them, I mean. That’s probably why you wasted all those bullets.” You sigh softly, feeling as if the wind has been knocked out of you. She was just looking for her friends. You only complicated things.

“Didn’t waste them. Found you, didn’t I? Seen you in trading posts a couple of times. From what I hear, you know a shit ton that we don’t. Shit that we need to know. It worked out,” she shrugs, hopping onto another car. “My friends ain’t stupid; they’ll find their way to the muster point or die trying.”

“Wait – most of what I learned is out of a book. You could have just let me die, then stolen that book off of me and made your life easier.” Most trading posts knew you had the book, but they knew better than to kill you over it. The book was valuable, but the burden of knowledge incentivized raiding parties. By letting you keep your book, they kept themselves safe, and the next time you rolled into town, they could ask you to write down whatever instructions they needed.

“Nah, you’re too pretty to kill. Besides, we need more people, and you looked like you could handle yourself even facing a horde alone. Probably didn’t even need my help.”

Your brain freezes and loops the compliment over and over again. You barely manage out a weak “oh.” The conversation dies there as you sink into a flustered state, your face a dewy rose (flushed red and covered in sweat from overexertion). Together, the two of you cross over the top of cars and make your way to Sevika’s muster point. It’s not far from the edge of town, under an old tree with a rope swing tied to it. The setting sun shines a golden hue over the hill, illuminating the tree in the same godly glow it had Sevika. Almost like a beacon leading you home.

As the two of you approach the tree, a young woman with blue hair in her late teens flings herself off the swing and throws herself down the hill, shouting Sevika’s name. You tense, glancing around to see if any infected heard you, but the field stays blissfully silent. Sevika half-heartedly catches the woman, patting her on the back.

“You’re alive! I thought everyone died –“ the woman pulls back and stares Sevika in the eyes – “I thought you were going to make me go back to Silco alone, you old goat.”

“Takes more than that to kill me,” Sevika snorts, pushing the woman off her. “Anyone else here yet, Jinx?”

“Nope! Just me – oh! And Ekko, but he was with me when we scattered,” Jinx giggles, pointing up the tree at a dark-skinned young man with white hair tinkering away on a relic.

“Hey,” he says with a short wave. “Who’s your friend?”

“Pulled this one out of an infected horde. She managed to take down nearly twelve of those buggers before I came to help,” Sevika chuckles, putting her arm around you. “Figured we could use another hand since that’s the end of Mark.”

“Idiot knew better than to yell in the city, even if he did twist his ankle,” Jinx huffs, shaking her head low. She lifts it immediately with a big grin: “Well, welcome, welcome! I mean, you are not officially welcome; Silco and Vander still have to give you the old once-over. But it’s nice ta meet ya!” She holds out her hand to you.

“Uh, thanks? Nice to meet you too,” you reply awkwardly, taking her hand. She shakes your hand vigorously.

“Won’t need to be a once-over. I’m vouching for her. She’ll be a great help – she’s that woman with the book.”

“The one that has that stuff on generators?!” the man calls from the tree excitedly.

“I’ve got more than that – I even have instructions on building a windmill!”

“WE CAN MAKE BREAD!?” Jinx exclaims excitedly, dancing happily on the spot and clapping her hands.

“We still have to build the windmill first, Jinx –“ the man sighs fondly, getting down from the tree – “But, yes, that is what that eventually means.”

Jinx grins like a child on Christmas day as Sevika steers you toward the foot of the tree to wait for the rest of their expedition. You end up showing Jinx several sections of the book before the other three people arrive. A young woman with pink hair that Jinx proclaims as her sister with a tight hug. A second young woman with black hair holding the pink-haired woman’s hand tightly. And a young man with black hair carrying a massive hammer. It’s certainly an eclectic group. You’re introduced to all of them before you leave: Vi, Caitlyn and Jayce. They’re each polite – giving a variance of a trepidatious greeting. Definitely not as friendly as Jinx was, but you don’t blame them. This is the apocalypse, after all.

It reaches nightfall before the group decides to head out. Normally, you wouldn’t travel in the dark alone – it’s too easy for infected or raiders to sneak up on you – but the group seems far from afraid. You chalk it up to their large numbers. You follow closely behind Sevika, hand gripping the hilt of your machete where it’s tucked into your belt, just to be on the safe side. Sevika and Vi hold lanterns, watching the treeline as they walk a path so familiar they could probably walk it with their eyes closed.

The walk isn’t far, and you quickly see why they were so comfortable heading out in the dead of night as you come across an older man guarding a group of horses. He has a broad frame, scruffy brown hair, and a kind smile. Yet, the shotgun in his hands and the pistols on his hips cast a dark shadow that sends a shiver down your spine. As the others head to their horses, he calls out Sevika’s name, leaving you without a friend as you stand awkwardly in the middle of the clearing.

“What’s the matter, Books? Night got you spooked?” Jinx asks, saddling up next to you. Her greyish-blue Ardennes huffs lightly as it tries to nose her shoulder.

“Who is that man?” you mumble, wringing your hands as you try to focus on anything but Sevika’s conversation.

“Oh, that’s just Vander – wait, Vander’s spooking you?!” Jinx peels off into laughter as you nod your head, nearly falling out of her saddle as she clutches her sides. You catch her quickly, pushing her back upright.

“What’s so funny?” you huff, glancing over at Vander and Sevika only to catch them staring at you. You whip back to Jinx sheepishly.

“Nothing, nothing – just – Vander wouldn’t hurt a fly. You’re worried about nothing! I’m sure he’s just getting the report from Sevika. You should probably make yourself nice and pretty on her horse while you wait.”

“Didn’t you guys mention that Vander had to ‘approve’ me tagging along?”

“Yeah, but Sevika’s got a favour. Like a lot of favours, actually. She’s been protecting us for ages, and before that, she used to be the bouncer for their bar. Plus, I mean, we still owe her on account of me blowing her arm off when everything went to shit.”

“Wait – her arm? But she –“ You turn back around to stare at Sevika, scrutinizing her side until you see the cape billow around empty air after a small gust of wind.

“Clean off –“ Jinx makes a popping sound with her mouth – “It’s best she tells that story, though. It ain’t a pretty picture, and I still don’t think she’s fully forgiven me. Caught her glaring at me around camp while white-knuckling her chores.”

You pinch your brows together as you watch Sevika, who takes this moment as the perfect opportunity to turn around and head back over to you. Quickly, you school your face to not reveal what you and Jinx had been talking about. The last thing you needed was to make her think you saw her as weak. People really didn’t like appearing weak in the apocalypse (or, so, you’ve learned from countless close encounters).

“What have you been telling her?” Sevika asks wearily to Jinx, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Nothing, I was just keeping her company while you and Vander debated the course of her life. Without her.”

“Had to pull a few favours. Didn’t need anyone knowing what they were,” Sevika says stiffly as Vander comes up behind her.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me!” Vander swears, clapping her on the shoulder. “And so are you! It’s nice to meet a fellow survivor in these trying times – especially one that isn’t trying to kill us.”

Vander grins broadly and holds out his hand to you. Your heart softens at his smile, the kindness in his eyes reminding you of your father. Without hesitation, you shake his hand firmly, determined to make a good first impression.

“Thank you, sir. The feeling is mutual – you all are a breath of fresh air from what I’m used to. I swear you won’t regret this – I know more than I appear to!” You let his hand go in a timely manner, fidgeting with your backpack straps. The hefty weight of your books is a comfortable reminder of your utility.

“No need to worry about that! You could be as useless as a mouse, and we’d still appreciate your company. But everyone here pulls their weight. We’ll find a job for you when we get back to the settlement. Until then, you will be riding with Sevika – if you’re comfortable with that. It will be a long journey as we’re a little further than I’d like to be from home.”

“I’m comfortable with that if Sevika is.” You look to Sevika, forcing yourself not to cross your fingers and seem desperate. A horseback ride cuddled up behind her was enough to make you feel faint. You can’t even remember the last time you’ve shaken this many hands in one day – let alone held another human being!

“No skin off my back,” Sevika shrugs, as non-committal as ever.

Jinx leans down really low and whispers in your ear: “That’s Sevika for ‘I’m going to cream my pants at the thought of a pretty lady riding with me.’” She pulls back, giggling so hard she nearly falls out of the saddle again.

You turn beet red, staring at the ground, unable to make eye contact. Vander groans like a disappointed father next to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sevika is unphased; you thank whatever God is watching that she didn’t overhear Jinx. You did not need for things between the first person to be nice to you in years to suddenly become incredibly awkward right before you have to ride horseback with her for God knows how long. Especially not when that same person happened to be an incredibly attractive butch woman willing to pull favours just to keep you around.

“Come on, we should get a move on,” Sevika grunts, beckoning for you to follow.

“Right!” you chirp, hopping to adjust your backpack straps.

“Get saddled up; we move out in five!” Vander announces loud enough for the whole group to hear. A wave of confirmation echoes through the clearing as you follow Sevika.

Your jaw nearly drops as Sevika leads you over to a beautiful dark brown draft horse with a white patch across its chest. Sevika takes your backpack and clips it to a hook on the saddlebags. It sags slightly. As she busies herself with filling her saddle bags, you introduce yourself to the horse. You aren’t terribly familiar with horses as they are incredibly rare nowadays (unless you had a settlement). But you do know horses are intelligent creatures, so you offer your hand for Sevika’s horse to smell, letting it get a good whiff so it knows you weren’t afraid. The horse snorts, seemingly content to let you pet it gently until Sevika has gotten herself in the saddle.

“Her name’s Duchess. ‘Cause she’s spoilt enough, she should be shittin’ silver spoons,” Sevika says, interrupting your introduction.

You pat Duchess one final time: “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Duchess. I hope we’re not too heavy for you.”

Duchess snorts as if she’s insisting you won’t be more than a feather to her. Sevika rolls her eyes and offers you a hand. You gladly take it, letting her pull you up behind her. She guides you to wrap your arms around her, straddling her waist with your hips. Following her directions, you hold as respectfully as possible, trying not to make Sevika uncomfortable by avoiding saddling up to her like you’re practically spooning her. The end result is you sitting with a straight back with your hands holding her sides stiffly.

“Relax,” she encourages you, patting your hand lightly. “Get comfortable; I don’t bite unless you want me to. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us: you’ll fall right off riding like there’s an invisible wall between us.”

“Sorry,” you squeak lamely, cozying up to her until your chest is flush with her back and your arms are wrapped around her stomach. “Is this… better?”

“Very much so. I ain’t got the hands to catch you if you fall, so the closer you are, the better. If you feel yourself slipping, just wiggle closer, and I’ll keep you from tipping.”

“Right, Jinx mentioned you only had one arm,” you mumble against her plaid shirt.

Sevika shoots you a baffled look over her shoulder: “You didn’t notice before?” You shake your head. “Huh… you got to pay better attention to your surroundings. That’ll get you killed one day. Or bitten.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you agree, not wanting to say anything that might offend her. Especially not when clutching onto her like a sloth was the only thing standing between you and falling out of the saddle.

Sevika merely grunts and turns her attention to Vander, who’s begun directing everyone to head out. Apparently, you will be stuck behind Sevika for quite some time, as the ride out is supposedly all night and all day. How far away is this place? It explains why you’ve never seen any of these people before, but it doesn’t explain why they’re out here. Are they really big enough to send out multi-day expeditions into incredibly dangerous territory like cities? Why do they even need you and your book if they’ve got enough resources for that?!

Uncertainty plagues you as you cling to Sevika. Her warmth radiates from underneath the plaid shirt, permeating your very being, even through your jacket. It’s been ages since you’ve felt the warmth of another – even before the fall of civilization. Her strong back is toned with muscle and a soft hint of fat, hinting at a comfortable, stable lifestyle. Your mind latches onto this, clinging desperately to the idea of community and survival rather than the uncertainty of just how that survival is gained. You find yourself being lulled into sleep from the gentle comfort of another’s warmth and the slow rock of horse trots. Whatever the future holds for you, even if you die tomorrow, it will all have been worth it for this moment. You’d gladly sell your very soul to hold Sevika like this for the rest of your days.