#until i saw the swarm of wasps

[princealberich]

got stung by a Fucking Wasp today. twice!!!!!!!!!

[thegnomelord]

another thought about ghost courting - he bumbles his way through and it somehow actually works, you start finding his attempts cute until eventually you’re lying in bed thinking about him and you have a moment of realisation of “god dammit i like him”

Okay, okay okay, now i'm invested in this lol SFW but slightly suggestive.

You should be asleep. You've been trying to fall asleep for god knows how long, the blinking green numbers of your alarm clock mocking you with every change— minute after minute, hour after hour, tick tick ticking by until you're ready to tear the sheets with your claws.

Something buzzes at the back of your skull like a swarm of wasps, yet you're unable to understand what it is as you glare uselessly at the ceiling as if it'll reveal all the answers. Then your eyes flicker to the nightstand, the small bone charm sitting on it. It's a piece of bleached white bone carved into rough shape by unskilled hands, the edges sharp, and you're not quite able to tell what it's supposed to be but Simon made it for you.

He made it for you.

And you could the flush beneath his mask when he'd handed it to you, trying to remain stoic despite the nervousness gnawing on his nerves. God he'd looked so adorable, staring at you with confusion and surprise when you'd purred at the sight of his gift, his eyes analyzing every little movement you made as the whisps of shadow coming off his arms fizzled like pop rocks.

God you'd just wanted to devour him there and then, to coax that mask off him so you could see his face; you didn't doubt a second he'd turn red like a lobster, eyes blown wide and the most needy sound escaping his bitten lips as he writhed underneath you as you two—

Shit.

You liked him.

That ancient element in your bones woke up with a start when your brain registered you had a potential mate, all exhaustion leaving your body as you got up and out of your room, head held in the air and mouth open to track his scent like a bloodhound, able to taste him on your tongue as you found your way to the roof.

He turned when he heard the door open, mask lifted up to his nose so he could smoke in peace. His eyes widened when he saw your glowing eyes peering back at him, like small lights that lured prey into anglerfish jaws.

"Somethin' the matter?" He asked, brows furrowed as you sniffed the air.

Your nose wrinkled as nicotine muddled the sharpness of his scent, and before you knew it you were stomping right up to him, your clawed hands wrapping around his waist as you burrowed your face into his neck.

"What the fock are you doing?" Simon growled, a shiver racing down his spine when you nuzzled his skin, the light scrape of your fangs causing a lick of adrenaline to spark in his system. But he didn't push you away, you were one of the few people he ever let touch him longer than a second.

"Simon," You voice warbled, the silence behind your letters filled with inhuman sounds. You breathed in deep, purring at his scent, of gunpowder and blackwood and something distinctly Simon filled your nose. "Mate." You purred louder, feeling it vibrate against his chest.

Ghost nearly choked at your words, the cigarette dropping to the floor as his mind stuttered like an old computer. "Wha- . . .what?"

"Mate." You repeated, and Christ did that word sound good on your tongue, your tongue coming out to lick a stripe up his neck, grinning when he wrapped his own arms around you like you were a raft in the storm. "My mate."

Simon could feel his heart beat faster, thumping in his ears like a nervous rabbit as you nuzzled further into his neck, spreading your scent on him. "Yeah?" He asked carefully, "Yours am I?"

You grumbled and lifted your head to nuzzle your cheek against his — the best you could do as a kiss when you had a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Yes," You grunted, holding the back of his neck, feeling him progressively go slack against you. "And I'm more than happy to prove it."

The hungry look in your eyes made him shiver with anticipation.

[badomensbaby]

rules of the road. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader

summary: finally getting your driver's license after moving to the big city for college, you're a bit stunned by your dorky, charming driving instructor.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, praise kink, mommy kink, car sex, safe sane and consensual, explicit sexual content. (driving instructor! luke, racecar driver! luke)

words: 6,307

a/n: one beautiful evening, as i was driving home with a frosty from wendy's balanced in my lap, i saw a student driver vehicle and i was like! hm! what if... and then this kind of happened. i tried to keep a keen eye while editing but if there's an error, feel free to let me know! <3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

You weren't a typically nervous person.

Growing up in a town where you practically had to just figure it out on your own, nothing really got under your skin. Not tractor maintenance nor harvest schedules, or that nasty little wasp's nest in the cattle barn in the spring.

But tests, those were a different story.

From college entrance exams to applying for your driver's license, those were the types of tests that made your heart race and your palms clam up. Because it was the unknown that bothered you so much. The unfamiliarity.

And, sprinkle in the fact that you'd left the family farm to pursue a college degree into the mix and every worry's been increased tenfold. As the baby of the family, first daughter behind a handful of rowdy, hard-working boys, being the first of your household to attend college was a serious milestone. You could only hope to make your parents and siblings proud.

But moving to the big city meant learning to drive. Well, legally. You've spent countless hours in your father's farm truck or your grandfather's tractor, you weren't necessarily inexperienced when it came to driving but you've never really been surrounded by other drivers. Just gravel roads and grassy two-tracks and your bothers dirt bikes.

The initial exam, a knowledge test about road signs and rules, wasn't too bad. They'd given you a practice test and a helpful guide booklet when you'd arrived at your appointment. It felt odd, being just barely twenty years old and taking a driver knowledge exam alongside kids barely pushing sixteen. You felt behind but it wasn't your fault.

Nerves didn't erupt in your stomach until the kind lady in the Secretary of State's office informed you that you'd be taking an on-road driver skills test. An instructor will watch you, quiz you, and grade you accordingly and if you fail, you can kiss your ability to drive legally goodbye until you pass.

Now that makes you nervous. Like there's ravenous butterflies swarming your stomach. You're already under a lot of pressure with fall classes starting soon and your part-time job, now you're worried about passing your driver's exam. The lady assured you there's nothing to fret over, that the instructor you've been assigned is well versed in the rules of the road and he's a total sweetheart.

Waiting in the parking lot wasn't the worst part. You were told he'd arrive shortly, a man named Mr. Hemmings, in one of the contracted company's instructing vehicles. Plastered with bright yellow stickers along the back, just shouting to everyone on the road that you're an inexperienced driver so take it easy.

Expecting some middle aged, married, grumpy man with nothing positive to say, the nerves weren't so bad as you basked in the moderate heat of the Michigan summer sun. Your phone pings a few times, a slew of good lucks and you've got this! from your family members. You don't even realize there's a stark white Toyota Camry pulling up to the curb until the scuff of shoes on the asphalt catches your attention.

"Y/N L/N?" A thick, low voice questions. A text message to your eldest brother sits unfinished beneath your thumbs, lips parting with shock. There's no bald patch or flat tire sticking out beneath his shirt, hell it barely looks like he's wearing a shirt at all because the white fabric is so snug and pulled taught over his abdomen and chest and arms that it's absolutely ludicrous. "Y/N?" he repeats.

"Yeah- yeah, that's me," You hesitantly stand, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jeans before brushing your now clammy hands along your thighs. His eyes flicker between the clipboard in his hand and you, shamelessly raking up and down your frame before clearing his throat.

"Great," His lips twist into a wide, toothy smile, shoulders seemingly relaxing at the confirmation. His stance laxes, nodding his head of bouncy, golden curls towards the vehicle that's idling behind him. "Why don't we go ahead and get started?"

You nod, swallowing the thick lump forming in your throat, hardly maintaining eye contact with the instructor as you climb into the driver's seat and watch him awkwardly fit himself into the seat beside you. "Okay," He blows out a breath. "I'm Mr. Hemmings but you can just call me Luke, it's easier and nobody likes saying a long name especially if you're in a panic."

You barely manage a short, clipped laugh. "Rad. Anyway, we're gonna be in here for the next hour or so. I'm mainly here to make sure you understand vehicle safety and that you're prepared to operate this beauty on your own," With a laugh, Mr. Hemmings taps the dashboard with his palm. "Well, not this beauty obviously, but you get my point. Oh! And I have break pedals over here just in case. I haven't used them yet this month so please don't put us in a situation where I might need to."

He's funny, you'll admit. In a dorky, charming kind of way. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time and you're curious if he's just that way in general or if it's a front because he probably deals with some right idiots when it comes to being an instructor. "You're quiet."

"Sorry," You mumble, hands still folded in your lap. "I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's really no need," he assures you, turning in his seat with an excited smile. "If you've passed your vision and knowledge tests then this is like, a cakewalk. Have you driven before?"

"Yeah, back home," You tell him. "Mostly just old trucks, though. I don't think I've ever driven a proper car."

"Cool, car virgin. I like that," Luke turns his attention back to the clipboard, scribbling something that you're unable to make out because it's complete chicken scratch. "Well, why don't we get going so we can stay on track."

"Okay," You breathe out, clasping the seatbelt over your lap. Under your breath, you rattle off the first steps of safety before your hands ever touch the steering wheel. Seatbelt, check. Rearview mirror, check. Side mirrors, check. When everything seems as it should, you rest one hand on the wheel before shifting the vehicle into drive, peering out of the passenger's side mirror to ensure no cars are coming up behind you in the lot.

Luke stays silent, observing you, pen hovering over his checklist sheet. As you head towards the exit, you realize you have absolutely no clue where you're meant to go. "Uhh-"

"Take a left here," Luke tells you. Signaling, you check both ways for any oncoming traffic before exiting the parking lot, keeping an eye on the speed limit signs posted on the side of the road. "And at the next light, hang a right. We'll follow that through downtown and then get you on the highway for a bit."

Nodding, you try to keep yourself composed and not let the nerves get to you as you follow his instruction. You make sure to slow down appropriately as you cruise through the city's downtown area, briefly taking in the brick buildings and shops as you pass.

The vehicle's air is a little stiff, a little warm underneath the summer sun and you're considering asking Luke if he can turn the air on but he's too busy drumming his fingertips along his bare thigh to really pay you any mind. You'd always heard that driving instructors were very observant, overly cautious and very strict about everything but Luke's so laid back it's slowly beginning to relieve your nerves.

"Would you mind turning on the air?" Luke asks, eyes soft and kind when you glance over at him. You're just trekking along behind other vehicles, following signs for the highway that's still a few miles out. It's probably one of the things on his checklist, for you to tinker with something and hope it doesn't distract you enough to cause any accidents.

Glancing at the various knobs, luckily they're standard and simple, similar to your father's truck so pressing two buttons quickly has cool air flowing into the car. You feel a little more at ease, less of an iron grip on the steering wheel. "You're doing great, by the way." Luke chimes in.

"Thanks," You keep an eye on the Jeep that keeps randomly breaking in front of you, easing off of the accelerator when applicable. You weren't a newbie when it came to driving itself, just following the actual road laws and learning the flow of traffic. "I need to turn right up here?" You ask.

Luke hums with a nod. He's began muttering some tune under his breath along with his finger-drumming, as if he isn't remotely worried about you merging onto the highway. Picking up speed, you join alongside the few cars rumbling along the road. "We'll take this to the next town over, about thirty minutes, then we'll head back and do a few simple maneuvers and that's it."

You nod, fighting the urge to sigh. Who knew your road test would be so boring? There's no music, just the sound of your tires on the asphalt and Luke's low humming. "Why'd you decide to become an instructor? Isn't it- well, boring?"

A slow chuckle slips out of your instructor's mouth, elbow perched on the door, hand clasped against the side of his face. "It's not all boring, I swear. I just like helping people become confident drivers. You'd be surprised how many students I've had that are too terrified to even start the engine."

"You're pretty laid back, it's definitely making me less nervous," You laugh softly, keeping your eyes on the empty road. "Helps that you're not bad looking either."

Shit, you weren't meant to say that.

In your peripheral, you can see Luke squirm slightly in his seat, instantly worrying that you've made him uncomfortable. You're about to retract your statement and apologize but the grin that overtakes his pink lips stops you. "Thank you," he says honestly, his tone a little strained. "So are you. I mean, I wouldn't say not bad looking, you're pretty- like quite pretty- and okay, is it a little warm in here? Jeez."

You stifle a laugh at his nervous rambling. It's cute, kind of refreshing, too. But a weight settles in your stomach because no, you absolutely cannot think your driving instructor is cute. Doesn't that cross some kind of line? Break a rule? It has to. "So- are you uh.. getting your driver's license to.. drive to your boyfriend's house orr.."

Oh god, he's also pretty damn terrible at flirting. Normally, you'd find it cringey and a tad obnoxious but it's cute on him. Adorable, even, because he's definitely a handful of years older than you but he flusters so easily it makes your confidence soar.

There's nothing wrong with indulging in it, is there? It's not like you're gonna fuck him on the side of the highway or anything.

"No boyfriend," You keep a straight face, like you're intently focused on the billboards you pass by. "Or girlfriend." You tack on, just to see him flounder a little more.

"Oh- yeah, rad," Luke nods a few times. "That's- yeah, okay, cool."

God, he's so fucking cute. How'd you get so damn lucky to have him as an instructor?

Luke's tapping the window ledge aimlessly, almost looking uncomfortable but not with you, like something's gnawing at him. "Hey, can you pull off at this rest stop for a minute? I need to- uh- bathroom. Yeah."

"Sure." You signal off, slowing down as you near the small building, only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. Luke quickly unbuckles himself and slips out of the car, almost too fast for you to realize there's a tent in his shorts. Well, fuck.

You've never really been the hook-up type in the past, coming from such a small town there's slim pickings when you know everyone's faults. Only when your family would travel up to Mackinac Island or down to Kalamazoo to visit family would you end up fooling around with some local for an afternoon but that didn't happen very often.

Though the circumstances aren't ideal, there's obviously some kind of attraction on both sides. Probably just some silly short-term infatuation and who knows what's running through Luke's mind. But he's hot, there's no denying that, and guilt tugs at your chest because he's here to do a job and you're just being a massive distraction.

Luke returns about fifteen minutes later, a little flushed in the face but there's this look he's sporting that looks nothing short of pure bliss. You're not stupid, you can recognize a post-orgasm haze from a million miles away.

God, did he really get off in a public rest stop bathroom? What the hell was he so worked up over? You bite back any inappropriate questions lingering on your tongue as he buckles himself in and you merge back onto the highway.

Luke doesn't say a word until it's time to circle back. He's quiet, too quiet, thrumming his fingers against his knee in a rhythm you aren't able to recognize. You decide to go the exact speed limit, setting the cruise control and waiting for Luke to ask why you've done that but no such comment comes.

"You okay?" You finally ask. The two of you are trapped in here for at least another thirty minutes on the highway alone, then likely another twenty or thirty around town after that. The silence isn't deafening but it's making you a little uneasy.

"Me? Yeah- I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Why wouldn't I be? Nothing's wrong. Everything's peachy." The instructor rambles.

Something's definitely wrong. You're not a very confrontational person but you'd rather have whatever issue at hand out in the open than let it linger silently the remainder of your test. "Luke-"

As you're getting his attention, the car begins to splutter. Numerous lights illuminate the dashboard, a loud rumbling sound making the steering wheel shake beneath your hands. Immediately, Luke begins to press on the emergency instructor's breaks and with some guidance, he helps you pull off on the shoulder just as the engine dies.

Not believing the sight before you, you turn to Luke, who's equally as shocked and silent, both of your chests heaving. "What the hell?" You ask aloud.

"I have no clue," Luke says frantically. "The car's been running fine all day. There weren't any warning lights, were there?"

Truthfully, you don't remember. "I don't.. think so? All of them lit up before it crapped out."

"Shit," Luke curses lowly. "Let me see if I can figure out what's going on."

Luke slips out of the Camry, leaving his clipboard behind. You hear him yell, muffled, "Pop the hood!" And you do, after taking a second to find the button with your shaky fingers.

The longer Luke is beneath the hood the longer you worry. It's an early Thursday evening, on a fairly quiet highway, and the likelihood that some passerby is going to offer assistance is slim. Plus, tow trucks in this area only operate within a ten mile radius, so it's unlikely you'll find one for a reasonable price if the car is toast.

This is what you get for thinking he's cute, your brain tosses at you. You know it isn't true but it's kind of ironic, isn't it?

Luke slips back inside the car. "Well, one of the hoses broke," He sighs, digging through the pockets of his shorts in search of his cellphone. "So the car won't start even if we wanted it to. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"Of course this would happen during my driving exam," You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as a low, frustrated groan crawls up your throat. "Just my luck."

"I probably shouldn't include the fact that I have no service then, should I?"

Your eyes pry open. "What?" You ask, finding your phone and sure enough, no fucking signal. "Seriously? We're on the damn highway, not in the middle of the ocean!"

"Hey, we'll be fine," Luke rests his hand momentarily on your shoulder and you try to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin. Sheepishly, he pulls it away. "I'll see if I can make an emergency call to highway patrol."

"Please do," You mumble weakly.

Your father would have a field day if he could see you. Barely a week into living away from them and you're stranded on the side of the highway with a hot driving instructor. What a joke.

With no luck, Luke groans, tossing his phone onto the dashboard. "My phone died," he says. "Can you call on yours?"

"Yeah," You dial using your phone's emergency function, only to be met with CALL FAILED in big letters. "How the hell can an emergency call fail?"

"Okay, well at least we've both probably eaten recently and I keep snacks in the trunk," You toss a glare towards the blonde, not finding his statement remotely relieving at all. "What? Teenagers get grumpy so I always have granola bars on hand."

"So we're stuck," You sigh softly. Luke nods, hands toying with one another. "Until I get signal or someone passing by takes pity on us."

"I'm sorry Y/N," Luke says quietly. "About- about all of this. I really had no idea, this car's never given me any problems."

"It's not your fault," You glance over at him, noticing his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "I'm gonna walk a bit and see if I can get signal, alright?"

"You shouldn't go alone," Luke says, a bit rushed. "I mean, not that you aren't capable or anything because I'm sure you are - female empowerment and all that I just- uh-"

"Just stay here," You say, a little clipped. You aren't upset with him, just the situation. "I'll be right back."

Luke swallows thickly, blue eyes wide. "Yes m'am."

You slip out of the car and begin walking along the shoulder, grass and gravel crunching beneath your feet, checking your cellphone every few seconds in hopes that a signal will appear. A big fat SOS stares back at you, practically mocking you.

After ten or so minutes, you aren't sure how far you've walked but you can't see the Camry anymore. You know it'll cool off soon as the sun begins to set and it'll be best if you're somewhere safe. Regretfully, you head back to the car to find Luke scribbling on his clipboard in the passenger seat.

"Nothing," You say, checking your phone once more, noticing it's been about thirty minutes since you've pulled off the road. "What're you drawing over there?"

"Just doodling," He says, showing you a mix of scribbles along the bottom of your driving checklist. "What else am I supposed to do? We're stuck for the time being."

"Yeah, you're right."

It's silent for a few minutes, aside from Luke's been inking the checklist. "We could.. play a game, maybe? Something to keep our minds off of.. y'know, the whole car breaking down thing."

"What kind of game?" You ask.

"Oh- uh, twenty questions?" Luke offers.

You snort. Twenty questions is for horny teenagers, not two almost-strangers stuck in a broken down vehicle on the side of the highway. "Guess that's a no."

"What about what are the odds?" You suggest. "I played it all the time with my soccer friends, it's pretty fun."

"Okay," Luke agrees. "You'll have to explain the rules to me, though."

You sit up a little straighter, a smile unknowingly tugging at your lips. Maybe there's an ulterior motive ping-ponging in the back of your mind. Maybe.

"It's really easy. One of us says something like 'what are the odds that you'll make an embarrassing noise', then pick a number in your head, and on the count of three we'll both say a number and if it's the same the other person has to do that thing. Make sense?"

"I think I've got it," Luke nods, turning in his seat with excited eyes. He looks fucking adorable. You shake your head, getting comfortable in the seat. "Okay, can I go first?"

"Go for it."

"Okay- uh, what are the odds that you'll.. you'll- tell me something about yourself?"

That's not quite it but a good start, Luke.

"One through fifteen." You say. "Three.. two... one.."

"Ten."

"Twelve."

"Ah, shit," Luke frowns. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"You'll get the hang of it," You tap his knee with the back of your hand without a thought, watching his cheeks twinge pink. "I'll go. What are the odds you'll pass me?"

"One in.. ten," Luke says. "Three.. two.. one.."

"Six."

"Six."

"Aha!" You grin, victoriously. "See, I'm a mindreader."

"As if I'd flunk you," Luke rolls his eyes. "You're a good driver, Y/N. You need to be a little more confident but there's no way I'd fail you."

You need to be a little more confident. Sure, Luke was talking about driving but that doesn't mean you can't apply that statement to anything else, right?

"Alright, my turn," Luke rolls his lips in thought. "What are the odds that.. you'd be my friend on Facebook?"

"Facebook?" You ask, a brow raised. "Nobody uses Facebook anymore, Luke."

"I do," Luke defends softly, shoulders drawing inward. "Just play along, Y/N."

"Okay, fine," You laugh softly. "Uhh, one in ten. Three.. two.. one.."

"Four."

"Eight."

"Damn, looks like we won't be Facebook friends," You tease, the flush still bright and red and pretty on Luke's cheeks. He's so easy to fluster. You almost regret what you're about to say. "What are the odds you'll admit the real reason we stopped at the rest area?"

Luke's face falls. "I.." He glances away from you, clearly caught off guard and there's a stinging in your chest. You should've just kept your mouth shut, he didn't deserve to be called out like that.

"I'm so sorry, that was too far, I-"

"It's..okay," Luke lets out a wavering breath. "I feel really bad about that," Your brows furrow. "Look I- I think you're really pretty and this is so, so unprofessional of me but I uh- you said girlfriend and my mind just- went off on it's own. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden. "You were thinking of me with- oh."

Luke looks away, clearly embarrassed, a blush blooming down his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N. It was really inappropriate and I shouldn't have."

"It's okay," You assure him. Luke looks like a kicked puppy, unsure as his eyes slowly meet yours, not quite believing you. "Seriously, it's fine. I- yeah, I'm also into girls. I don't blame you for your.. thoughts, or whatever."

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, like you've said something sinfully explicit. "I- maybe we should end the game here before I say something really stupid."

He isn't covert about it, covering his growing hard-on, beginning to tent his shorts. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, trailing along the inside of your lower lip. Fuck, you have quite the opportunity here and it would be a shame if you let it go to waste. Consensually, of course.

"You're thinking about me with a girl again, aren't you?" You boldly accuse, your eyes narrowing in a teasing manner, watching Luke's gentle blue eyes widen and mouth fall open. "It's okay if you are."

He's so.. submissive. You've never really explored the whole dynamic of positions like that but making your instructor blush and squirm makes you feel.. hot.

"Maybe," Luke's voice is small, soft, and you're loving every second of it. "Y/N, I-"

"What're you thinking about, Luke?" You ask, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the center console, your tone low. "Me kissing another girl, maybe? Getting all hot and bothered and messy and wet?"

A whimper crawls up his throat. "I- fuck."

You trail a finger along his thigh, tracing the leg of his shorts. "Maybe you'd just watch, huh?" You provoke him, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah- I would.." His voice is weak, lips parting and soft little pants escaping them. He's so easy for it, you love it. The dominance rolling off of you in waves seems to come naturally and who are you to deny it? "Y/N.."

"What, Luke? What do you need?"

Need. Luke keens. "I.. can I.."

"You wanna touch yourself?" You ask.

"No.. you, please."

You hum. How can you say no, when he sounds so wrecked like that? "Think there's enough room for us in the back there?"

"Don't wanna.. move," Luke mumbles, eyes already glazed over. He's so far gone. "My lap?"

You won't toy with him anymore, not when he's offering to get you off. To touch you. God, his fingers are beautiful and long and you're dying to have them buried inside of you. "Yeah, 'kay." You puff out, watching Luke adjust himself properly and helping guide you to sit in his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

It isn't ideal but it'll work. He works with shaky, excited hands to unfasten the button and zipper of your jean shorts before trailing his fingers along the waistline of your underwear. "Can I?" You nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip in anticipation.

Without hesitance, Luke dips his hand into the waistband, finding your damp heat with ease. His fingers curl around you, whimpering at the warmth before a finger slips inside of you, slick and velvety. "Oh- fuck."

"Luke," You moan out softly, clasping a hand on the instructor's shoulder. He carries a steady pace, sliding a second finger beside the first, brutally hard at the warmth coating his digits. "Fuck, feels so good."

"You're so wet," He mumbles, like he's surprised, peering up at your blissed out features. "Fuck, did I- did I do this to you?"

"Yes," Your hips shift greedily, making his fingers sink deeper into you. "You're just so.."

"So?" You can feel his breath against your collarbone through your shirt.

"So needy," You moan, rotating your hips, effectively riding Luke's fingers, like he's some kind of toy. "It's so hot, how hard you get so easily- I- fuck, there."

"Y/N," Luke pants against you, his free hand trailing up to your hip, holding tightly. "Wanna make you cum, please."

"Yeah?" You breathe out. "Gonna let me ride your fingers? Fuck myself until I cum?"

"Oh god," Luke trembles, his movements faltering but it doesn't matter, you're moving steadily and the more you shift the more his fingers hit that perfect spot. You can feel it in your toes, that you're close, but you need something else to get you there.

"Did you think about me?" You ask, a light sweat forming on your brow. "When you got off in the bathroom? Did you moan for me?"

"Yes," Luke admits in a whine. "Yes- fucking- came so hard, Y/N. Thought of you the whole time."

Just thinking about Luke, working his cock so quickly in his fist thinking about you is enough, warmth flooding your stomach as your orgasm rapidly approaches and you're releasing all over Luke's fingers. Like a fucking floodgate.

"Oh fuck," You hear him moan, fingers slowing as your hips come to a halt. "Fuck, Y/N."

Blissful and warm and flushed, Luke retracts his fingers from you, the digits glistening as he slips them into his mouth with needy, complacent hums. He looks more wrecked than you do.

"Can I- can I ride you?" You blurt.

Luke goes rigid. "What?"

"I wanna ride you," You reiterate. "I wanna fuck you, Luke. Can I?"

"You- yeah, fuck of course," Luke's eyes are blue and glassy and glazed and you aren't even sure how he's functioning right now. He hasn't even cum yet so- wait. "Just give me a minute.."

Curiously, you shift back a bit on his lap to see he's half-hard and there's an obvious damp patch on the front of his shorts. "Did you cum while you were touching me?"

Luke nods. "Sorry."

"Fuck that's so hot," You can't help it, fitting both hands beneath his jaw to tilt his head upward, capturing his lips easily with your own. He tastes like spearmint gum and flavored coffee, it's all you can think about when you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. That was too easy, you can already feel his dick fattening against your thigh again. "Do you have a condom?"

"In my wallet," Luke pants against your mouth. "I wasn't like- expecting this, by the way."

"Neither was I," You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Let me get my shorts off."

Car sex seems so hot in theory until you're caught up in the moment and you're stuck trying to take off clothing where it's just not possible. You manage to slip your shorts off, leaving your damp underwear on before claiming Luke's lap once again. The condom sits in the crevice between his thigh and hip, fly open and dick straining against the seam of his boxers.

"Get yourself ready for me," You tell him softly, your fingertips trailing along your lower abdomen, along the inside of your shirt to cup your breasts beneath your bra. Luke's in a trance, nearly swallowing his own tongue before nodding and barely wiggling his shorts and boxers down his hips. He slips the condom on, abandoning the foil packet god knows where, before stroking himself a few times with a gentle hiss. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

Luke squirms at that. "Thank you," he mutters. "Can I- are you ready?"

"So ready," He carefully aligns his hips with yours before slowly pressing inside, letting out tiny whimpers with every inch he sinks in. "Fuck."

"Y/N," Luke moans, eyes threatening to fall shut. His hands find your thighs, blunt nails digging into the soft skin there, hips threatening to rut upwards at the sheer warmth encasing his cock. It's immeasurable, how good you feel wrapped snugly around him.

"So good, Luke, you're doing so good," You praise gently, holding yourself upright with your hands on his broad shoulders. Once he's buried to the hilt, you slowly rock your hips in a circle, eliciting a short gasp from the blonde. "Such a good boy."

The simple phrase makes Luke choke on his own breath. "You're so warm," he mumbles, lips barely moving, chest rising and falling steadily. You rock your hips again. "Oh my god."

Luke isn't like the guys you've slept with before. He's sensitive and responsive and it's probably the hottest thing you've ever witnessed. It's like he's fighting the urge to give in. Slowly, you begin to bounce in his lap, testing the waters. Luke moans every time you sink down.

"Yeah?" You ask him after a particularly whiny moan falls from his mouth. "Feel good, Luke? Tell me. Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels so good," He babbles, a wheezy, whining mess every bounce you make. It's slick and wet and so fucking hot you know you'll cum again sometime soon. He's hitting all the right spots inside of you. It helps he's probably the biggest dick you've taken by far. "So good. Please don't stop, please."

"Not gonna stop," You mutter, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulders. "You're such a good boy, Luke. Taking it so well. Feel so good inside me."

Luke lets out a squeak when you clench around him. "Mommy-"

Your hips falter briefly but you can't stop, you refuse, because that word, though you've never been called that before it lights a flame inside of your stomach that makes you want more and more and more. "Yeah?" You abandon your grip on one of his shoulders to clasp his jaw, making Luke meet your eyes, his half lidded and cloudy and dark blue. "Gonna let mommy fuck you, Luke? Ride your cock until she cums?"

Luke bites down on his lower lip so hard he swears he can taste blood. His head is swirling, like yours, all fuzzy and fucked dumb. Your pace grows quicker, a bit more focused but frenzied, until Luke's panting to the point where he's babbling words that don't even make any sense. "Gonna- please- need-"

"What, Luke? What do you need?" You ask, ghosting your lips over his own. He whimpers against your mouth.

"Wanna cum, mommy. Can I?"

"Yeah baby," You press a hard kiss to his mouth, pushing your tongue past his lips and that's all he needs, gripping your thighs tightly until he's fully inside of you before releasing into the condom. Luke slumps slightly, clearly spent but you're far from finished. "Stay still, won't you?"

"What-" Luke mutters, flushed and confused when you begin to raise your hips and sink back down on him. "Oh fuck me."

"So close, Luke," He isn't softening in the slightest. It almost makes you smile, makes you proud because he's so turned on, just letting you use him like some kind of fuck toy. "Touch me?"

Luke nods, blissed out, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing furious, hard circles. Your thighs tremble as your orgasm builds up, toes curling inside of your shoes before finally letting go and releasing all over his length.

Shuddering through the warmth spreading up the base of your spine, your nails sink into the instructor's shoulders, panting against his mouth as he tips his head up to connect your lips in a soft kiss. Your skin feels tingly in the best way, electric, and your head swarming furiously.

Luke pulls away first. He's so flushed, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck and you're positive that pretty pink blush has reached his naval, there's no doubt. He's definitely a full-body blusher. "Y/N.."

"Yeah?" You ask quietly, breathless, noticing the windows have fogged up a little bit from your activities.

"Can you.. sorry, it's just uh- the condom's a bit uncomfortable." The blonde grimaces apologetically, reddening further when you muffle out a short laugh and slowly climb off of him. Your underwear are soaked, from your own release, but you slide your shorts back on anyways as Luke ties off the condom and places it hesitantly on the floorboard.

Now that the two of you are dressed, less short on breath, you figure it might be best to address what the hell just happened. "Luke-"

"Y/N-"

"Sorry, go ahead," You mumble.

"I wasn't- planning that. Or, expecting it, I swear," Luke says rather quickly, eyes flitting away from you, a bit embarrassed. "Please don't think I make a habit of this. You're- you're the first."

You swallow harshly. "The first?"

A nervous, awkward laugh tumbles out of Luke's mouth. "No, no, that was a girlfriend in high school. I mean- uh- student."

"Oh," You puff out a relieved breath, resting your head back. You're still warm and relaxed from your orgasms. "Well in that case, I don't really sleep with driving instructors, so I guess it's a first for both of us."

"It's not.." Luke trails off, his voice low, like he isn't sure how to phrase what he's thinking. "It won't be the only time, will it?"

That comes as a bit of a surprise to you. Again, you weren't really the hook-up type but the guys you have hooked up with in the past were quick to forget it even happened and move on with their lives.

You're stunned into a short silence. Will that be the only time you hook up with Luke? Sure, he's funny, and insanely attractive, but aside from the few things you've shared during the drive he's still almost a complete stranger.

"I understand," Luke quietly says.

"No I- sorry, I was just- surprised," You say. "I'd like to see you again. Maybe not in a broken down car on the side of the highway."

Luke chuckles briefly. "Okay, cool," The tension seems to slip from his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm not really good at this. I don't really uh- date? Just, with work and everything it's hard to find the time."

"Being a driving instructor is that demanding?" You inquire, a lighthearted teasing lift to your voice. The highway is still dead silent and the sun is slowly beginning to set. Soon, you'll be cast in a hue of pinks and oranges and pretty purples.

"I race for a living," Luke says, catching your attention abruptly, your brows furrowing in confusion. "It's not something I really bring up in conversation or during uh- other things."

"You're not like, a Nascar driver or something, right?" You joke. Luke stays silent. "What the fuck?"

Way to go, Y/N. Fucking a driving instructor slash Nascar driver. Your parents would be so proud. Stupid girl.

"Like I said, I don't really tell people," Luke quickly defends, swallowing as an anxious look perturbs his features. "This doesn't uh- change anything right? About seeing me again?"

"No but if my dad finds out you're gonna be forced into every Sunday dinner until you're dead," You speak without thinking, still shocked about Luke's line of work. And here you were thinking he was just a dorky driving instructor for the state of Michigan. "Sorry, that was weird."

Luke laughs, shaking his head. He took your comment well, like too well, and you're starting to think maybe Luke isn't real at this point. He's too.. perfect. Handsome, dorky, a fucking racecar driver. "You're fine, I get it. Your dad's a big fan, then?"

"Huge," You sigh. "My brothers, too."

"You think they'd come to a race if I set aside some tickets?" Luke's teeth sink into his bottom lip, a hopeful look on his splotchy, pink face.

"I- I mean yeah," You stumble. "Luke, you really don't have to.."

"I want to," He reassures you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I really wanna see you again and if free tickets is the way I can then, I'd be dumb not to offer."

"For the record, I'd see you again regardless of the free tickets," You tell him, leaning to rest your elbows on the console. One of his eyebrows arch curiously, in a way that's so damn hot and Luke doesn't even realize it.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," You confirm. "By the way-"

You're cut off by the chirping of a siren, glancing out of the rearview mirror to see a State Trooper has parked behind you, lights flashing.

Well fuck. This'll be fun.

[dovedewdrop]

One Number Away (Joel’s POV)

I'm one number away from calling you

I said I was through, but I'm dying, inside

Got my head in a mess, girl, I confess

I lied when I said, "I'm leaving and not coming back" / 1.3k

✨Part 1✨ ✨Part 2✨

A/N: My sincerest apologies for the wait! Thought I'd switch it up and give you all a lil look at the inside of Joel's brain😊 Also I just got back from staying in a cabin for a week and its been giving me soft cowboy!Joel thoughts so if anyone would care to grace my inbox with any thoughts on that...👀🤠🤎

Warnings: Joel being a saddie. Angst.

---

Joel thought being alone would be better. He didn’t need distractions or people depending on him anymore, he’d only let them down anyway. So when you left with Tommy he thought he’d feel lighter, now that there was a weight off his shoulders, but as it turns out, the hunch over his shoulders only pushed him down further. 

Everywhere he went he felt the cold at his back, seeping into his bones, reminders of having lost Sarah and how he pushed you and his own brother away. He tried to move on, to tell himself that all of those things were in the past and he had to focus on the next thing, focus or get himself killed but the sting of his losses were written all over him for everyone to see.

Even Tess knew that he wasn’t for her, that his heart belonged to someone else and always would, so she held him at night “for warmth” and made him breakfast and poured him whiskey under the guise of friendship, hoping that one day he’d maybe see her.

For 20 years Joel sat in his guilt and anger, he let it seep through every fibre of his being, he may not be infected by cordyceps, but he was affected in a different way. Not that he was ever the most happy-go-lucky guy in Austin but he had love for his family and that made him smile and laugh and joke around, now there was nothing to laugh about. 

That is, until he met Ellie.       

It took him so long to warm up to her, every time he looked at her he thought about you and Sarah, he told himself that the baby you were carrying wasn’t just a miscarriage but a foreshadowing of what was to come, how it would be all his fault. Everyday spent with Ellie triggered a fountain of emotions for him, he told himself that he shouldn’t be trusted to look after her, then the next day he’d tell himself that this was his chance to make things right, to protect her like he couldn’t protect Sarah. His inside of his head resembled that of a wasps nest, thoughts always buzzing and swarming in his mind with no chance of respite, but when Ellie cracked that one joke it did, in fact, have him laughing, his mind began to quiet, and he had to admit that it was nice to not always be filled with tension.

As they crossed the country together he found his thoughts sometimes drifting to you, wondering for the most part if you were still alive. If you were, were you happy? Happy to be free of him? Happy to maybe start a new life with someone else? Or were you constantly walking through this life being traumatised? Something he knew you didn’t deserve and especially not from him. He thinks about how you were always there for him and how in the end he took your kindness and stomped all over it in those big boots of his.

When he saw you in Jackson he couldn’t do anything. He was overjoyed to see Tommy but as soon as he saw those eyes of yours, the ones that overflowed with tears the last time he saw you, he was physically rooted in place whilst mentally his mind was running a hundred miles an hour.

He watched as you walked off before turning to Tommy with a sombre look on his face. “I don’t know why I didn’t expect to see her here”, his brother didn’t know how to respond to him, as much as he was happy to see Joel, he stood firm on the fact that he had some grovelling to do. “Thank you for keepin’ her safe” The look in Joel’s eyes was genuine before he headed off in the direction of Ellie to help her with her things.

The sight of both you and Tommy after 18 years is what really took the weight off his shoulders, despite the incessant buzzing starting to creep back in. The collection of doubts begun to swirl around his brain, she doesn’t want to see you, she wouldn’t accept your apology if you gave her one, and would you blame her? He wanted so desperately to talk to you, to pull you close to his chest again, to kiss the top of your head but you were both different people now and he couldn’t ask any of those things of you.

So after his tiff with Tommy he couldn’t resist treading the snow to your house after you’d let out a snide remark. The pit in his stomach told him it was a bad idea, he was already riled up and he didn’t want to let you see that he was still an asshole, sometimes and besides, you don’t need him, you have a new life here, a better life without him, so it was better if he kept his distance. 

However, before he even knew what was happening the words were tumbling out of his mouth and into the cold air, condensing it with a fog, “You…got a boyfriend?” He clocked you rolling your eyes at him. Stupid. He shouldn’t have ever come over. And then you were chastising him, something you hadn’t done since before this whole thing started because somewhere along the way you became small and he hated himself for it every single day. 

He couldn’t help but take in your features, your soft lips, remembering the way you’d sometimes press them into his shoulder or your eyes, the way they lit up when you held the pregnancy test up to him from the bathroom floor. 

He wanted to know what was on your mind even though he doubted you would tell him and he was right, you weren’t answering him and that was all the confirmation he needed that you weren’t interested in engaging with a man who was now pretty much a stranger to you all over again. He had to walk away, for today at least, he was tired, the day had been long and he was emotionally all over the place.

But when you spoke up and confessed everything to him, he had stopped in his tracks and the tears were one blink away from creating a stream over the planes of his face. He couldn’t let you see the inner turmoil he was going through, he wanted to run to you to, to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again but he also didn’t trust that he was fixed, that he was cured of his anger and his traumas.

In a panic, he simply pushed out a “see ya around.”

The following few days were hard for Joel. The buzzing had returned full-time and he was feeling antsy, sometimes snapping at Ellie and feeling immediate guilt. He was working on it. However, when Saturday came around he couldn’t help it, he’d held it together for so long, when you left he’d only slipped up once, the scar on his temple a constant reminder of that.

He’d been watching you watch him and Ellie put the decorations on their Christmas tree, his heart feeling tight, because you should be here with him and Sarah and your little one, who wouldn’t be so little anymore. He’d found himself in the pub at 7:30pm that Saturday evening, downing his drinks and letting his eyes drift towards you, he knew he wasn’t helping himself but he was at a loose end, with no idea what to do with himself anymore.

The next morning he felt rough, he’d cried and cried and cried into his pillow for the majority of the night after Tommy had left him, his fist sometimes slamming down on the pillow lying next to him, before chastising himself mentally, he wouldn’t do this if you were lying next to him, he wouldn’t even be pissed out of his mind if that was the case. He brewed his morning coffee and dragged himself onto the porch, not surprised to see you sat on yours at all. He slumped down into a chair and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, he had to figure this out, decide what he was going to do. 

[georgie3116]

Resident Evil/ MCU

Black Widow : Nemesis

As if reading Natasha's mind a loud bang of something hitting the street from behind them drew their attention.

The creature was still very much alive, it emitted a loud angry roar as it dropped a large weapons crate,

The lid flipped off and the creature picked up a giant rocket launcher (fit with a guided red laser dot sight) the two women shared a frustrated worried glance before taking off in a run.

The laser sight struggled to keep a lock on either of them as both women used every inch of free space to dodge and roll- not that it stopped the monster from sending rockets in their direction, caring none for the other Zombies or the heavy damage it caused.

"A rocket launcher, really?" Jill yelled back at their attacker,

Natasha couldn't fathom how the monster had managed to get it's giant hands on a laser guided rocket launcher, she'd been looking to get her hands on one for the next time the Avengers had to fight a giant monster.

"Line of fire Jill!" she yelled as the laser sight kept hitting the back of the S.T.A.R.S officer,

A loud explosion in front of them sent a wave of fire in their direction.

However they both knew that they couldn't stop, no matter how tired or injured either of them was, stopping meant certain death.

Another explosion sends both of them crashing into the road, immediately followed by another which hit a police car sending the vehicle flying into the air

"Watch out!" Jill yelled, but Natasha quickly dodged the heavy car that almost crushed her.

Jill hears her Walkie-Talkie beeping, she guessed that Carlos had heard the explosions even from the safety of the substation

"Jill, Romanoff are you ok?" he asked as more explosions seemed to shake the ground underneath the two women

"Carlos that monster is on our asses again!"

As if on que their pursuer seemed to jump from out of the sky heavily landing on the roof of the parked cars with a loud smash.

"Are you shitting me!? I thought you said you'd killed it!"

The monsters gaze fixated on the two of them with an angry determination, that as a former assassin- it was a look Black Widow knew all too well.

"Me too" Jill responded, she was getting tired of this bullshit, why wouldn't this thing just die already

"Sorry Carlos, but we've got to run" Black Widow quickly pulled Jill up to her feet although the S.T.A.R.S officer felt as if her legs had turned to jelly, the Avenger practically pulled her along at a pace that was unnatural to her.

They dodge the barrage of seemingly endless rockets until they reached a dead end,

Natasha looked back and saw the rocket coming towards them, next thing either of them knew- their bodies were suddenly weightless as the force from the explosion sent both of them flying through the burning air and painfully landing on the other side of the barricade that had blocked their path.

Black Widow awkwardly but quickly got up to her feet- the impact had put some distance between them and the B.O.W.

Natasha looked over at Jill who was not moving from where she had crashed into the road,

Jill was clearly in pain and borderline exhausted, but Natasha needed her to keep moving- she gently shook Jill's arm and the S.T.A.R.S officer looked at the Avenger slightly dazed from the explosion.

"Jill come on you need to get up" all that mattered right now was surviving- and Jill refused to let some freak made in an Umbrella lab be the end of her.

"Are you ok?" Natasha asked as Jill lifted herself into an upright position, she rubbed her head which was currently throbbing as if a million wasps swarmed in her brain

"I really need a strong drink" Jill exhaled the breath she had been holding as she shakenly regained her footing

"I'll tell you what Jill, if we both survive this I'll buy you anything you want to drink" Jill smirked, now that would be a promise that she would hold the Avenger to.

September 29th 01:35AM

LOCATION: The Streets of Raccoon City

To get back to the substation they would need to climb through the Scaffolding to get back to the area where they had already spent a lot of time running around,

Natasha looked around frantically for their attacker, but again the creature had disappeared.

Suddenly Jill's Walkie-Talkie starts to ring "Jill, Widow you there? I think I know how to slow that fucker down, head back to the substation" Carlos said through the communicator.

Both of them knew they couldn't run the risk of leading the monster back to the survivors it would indiscriminately kill everyone

"No, we can't lead him back to you" Natasha told Carlos through the communicator on her Stingers

"It's ok, trust me" Jill and Natasha share a apprehensive glance they doubted that if a direct hit from a rocket launcher couldn't keep it down then surly nothing else would

"What do you think?" Jill asked Natasha as they cut over the roof tops of the city houses

"I don't think we have much in way of other options".

They climb back down to the plaza, which was now a blazing inferno, everywhere was on fire. Within a matter of hours this part of the city would be reduced to ashes.

They race up the stone steps back up to the main road when suddenly a rocket soars above them heading directly for the hideous head on top of the Toy Uncle.

"I fucking told you so!" Natasha yelled as the giant head rolled straight after them like a giant boulder in an action movie.

The both of them bolted back down the steps with the giant head quickly rolling after them

"This is insane!" Jill yells as they get out of the heavy object's collision path, the giant head rolled straight into the Moon's Doughnuts which left Jill with a tinge of sadness,

Despite the fact that by now most of Raccoon City was a lost cause, this city belonged to the monsters now.

Again, as if on que the creature seemed to drop out of the sky behind them with a terrifying roar, the red laser sight of the rocket launcher attempted to lock onto them as they ran to the main road.

"Line of fire Jill!" Black Widow yelled again as the red laser locks onto the S.T.A.R.S officer's back,

Jill dodges as the rocket narrowly missed her and hit the nearby Zombies that followed the pair into another ally

"Widow, Jill this way!" they spot Carlos in the distance, they run as fast as their feet would let them the creature was relentless in its attacks.

Jill felt the air around her explode with fire,

The impact from one of the explosions sent Jill crashing towards the hard floor, the red laser locked directly on to her.

Next thing Jill knew she was being lifted off the ground by the Black Widow who nearly ripped her arm off trying to carry her.

Natasha threw Jill's arm over her shoulder the red laser almost caught her side as she stopped to pick up the S.T.A.R.S Officer, but she wouldn't let anything slow them as they raced out of the alley.

Suddenly the creature giving chase behind them is sent off its path by a heavy explosion, Black Widow had spotted the Claymore mine as she ran past it with Jill whilst Carlos waited with a detonator

"Are you ok" he asked them as they watched the creature hurtle into the wall

"Nicely done" Natasha smirks as she lets go of Jill's arm, they looked at the monster although it was stunned from the explosion it was far from finished.

It lifted its head to growl at them- but it refused to give up, Carlos began to fire wildly at the monster with his assault rifle

"Go! Go!" he shouts and motions for them to get inside, Natasha hits the button to start closing the shutters

"Come on forget about him!" Jill yelled as the U.B.C.S soldier ducked under the closing shutters when he spotted the gas mains for the petrol station across from them,

Carlos fired at the large pipes resulting in a very impressive explosion that shook the entire building, the steel shutter snapped shut seconds before the heavy blast reached them.

[fibing-and-vibing]

Fibromyalgia skin care, body edition:

So, my skin is really bad lol. I’ve had a rash on my legs for over ten years, and every doctor and dermatologist I’ve ever gone to was super gaslighty about it. It was originally caused when I got several mosquito bites at once; the next day I woke up with hives that looked like I’d been bitten all over my body. From then on, they would flare up any time I experienced physical or mental stress. Which was often, bc I was in uni at the time lol. And then about five years later I got attacked by a swarm of wasps and was covered with stings, and the rash never went away again. So obviously this screams autoimmune issue, but doctors told me I probably had bedbegs (made no sense bc I slept with a partner who was unaffected, and had moved three times, but I cleaned every piece of fabric I owned anyways and it didn’t help,) that it would probably just go away bc my labs were normal (sure, that’s why it lasted for a decade,) and my fav, that I must just be scratching myself bc I have anxiety (lol.)

Anyways, I’d sort of given up on figuring out what was going on, and I’d never seen a pic that looked quite like my rash, until I got my fibro diagnosis. The doctor told me that my kind of rash was not uncommon, and when I googled it I saw pics that looked exactly like me. It was so validating.

But double ANYWAYS, over the years I developed a lot of skincare strategies to help with the situation since doctors wouldn’t. I see a ton of incorrect info/bad advice online about skincare, and specifically rash care. So idk how to get the word out about any of this lol, but if you’re reading this, and you have a weird rash caused by fibromyalgia, this is what worked for me after years of trial and error!

I’m organizing my routine into stages depending on how bad your rash is flaring up at the time, but when you’re ready to move onto the products and tools of a new phase, keep doing everything you were already doing as maintenance.

When the rash is really bad:

Bioderma atoderm cleansing oil ($$): this is a very gentle cleanser that’s PH balanced, very non-irritating if you have sensitive skin, even if it’s flaring up. Won’t cause additional flare ups.

Scrubby bath puff ($): everything online will tell you not to exfoliate if you have a rash, but that’s terrible advice!! Exfoliation is the only way to remove dead, damaged skin cells and encourage circulation and new skin cell growth!! You just need to be careful and use common sense. Put the cleansing oil on a little puff and use that, your hands aren’t good enough alone. You don’t need to press hard, just go in gentle little circles from your ankles up, wrists in, always towards your heart.

Bioderma atoderm intensive baume ($$): this is the body cream that goes with the oil cleanser, make sure it’s the intensive baume and not just the regular cream. Fixing and maintaining your moisture barrier is key! Use this twice a day: morning and night, or make one of those after you get out of the shower if you showered that day.

Polysporin gel ($): or neosporin or whatever antibiotic gel is available in your area, gel is my personal preference, I feel like it absorbs better. Use this on any open sores so they don’t get infected and heal faster.

When the rash starts healing a bit:

Frank Body original coffee scrub ($): once you have fewer open sores, using this to exfoliate once or twice a week will speed up the healing process sooo much. If it hurts to use, you’re not ready for it yet. It should feel soothing. Don’t overdo it though even if it feels good, twice a week max.

Shaving ($): obviously you don’t need to shave if you don’t want to, but shaving your legs, dermablading your arms, etc is another great way to exfoliate a layer of dead skin cells. It also allows products like the intensive baume to penetrate more easily and deeper into your skin since there’s not a layer of hair in the way. Once every week or two is plenty, shave around open sores and don’t do it if it hurts. You can use the cleansing oil to shave with in the shower.

Retinol ($-$$$): I like the one from the inkey because it’s $ and effective. Mix this in with the baume once a week and it will significantly improve your skin texture. Pointless to do this though if your rash is still active bc you’ll just get more spots, but once you’re on a healing trend it’ll help the process a lot.

Body massager ($-$$): I have a plastic one from Sephora. This is the one thing on this list that might be mostly in my head, but it feels really nice so that counts for something in itself. It’s supposed to help with circulation and lymph drainage, and if you use it after your other products it helps them absorb into your skin. Relaxing to do before bed.

When you’re mostly healed/trying to maintain, and also lessen the appearance of scars:

Dry brush ($): omg I love dry brushing so much. If your skin is mostly healed, this will drastically reduce the appearance of scars. Don’t press hard! Do the same as with the cleansing oil: sweep up from your ankles, in from your wrists, always towards your heart, with a lil swirl at your joints and lymph nodes. Start with once a week, gradually go to twice, eventually you can do it once a day but not until you’ve worked your way up to it. If you do it too intensely or too often it can backfire; I’ve had it aggravate certain areas, including scar tissue. But if you’re gentle with yourself it feels great and really encourages circulation, lymph draining, and new skin cell growth. Best done on totally dry skin before you get in the shower. Game changer.

Faded Topicals brightening and clearing mist ($$): this is a great chemical exfoliant. Topicals is a great Black-owned brand that uses really good ingredients. I find that any product designed for melanated skin is the absolute best for dealing with any kind of hyperpigmentation, including scars. Use this once a week, after the shower, and let it dry before putting on the baume; it helps over time. Only downside is that the packaging kinda sucks and starts leaking eventually, so hopefully they fix that bc it works really well.

Obviously if you have a chronic illness like fibromyalgia, the causes of your skin issues are internal, so make sure you’re also getting the right nutrients and keeping up with your stretching/exercise routine as best you can. There’s only a limited amount you can do with external interventions, so don’t get frustrated, and don’t feel like you’re doing anything wrong! You’re not wrong and you’re not crazy, you know your body. Remember that having a routine at all is good for your brain, which is good for your stress levels, which is also progress. You’re doing a good job by controlling the parts that you can control; that’s all you can do, and it’s more than enough :)

[hunty627]

Here’s the script for Hunter’s magnifico meatballs.

One day, the Little Einsteins were invited to my house to help me cook dinner. I was making spaghetti and meatballs. I told them that the meatballs were going to be the ones that my grandma used to make. I had some of the ingredients, spices and seasonings, but I didn’t have any bread crumbs, ground beef or eggs. Leo, Annie, Quincy, June and Rocket told them they’ll help me find all three of the important meatball ingredients. I was very happy. But Leo told me to keep the recipe a secret between them and my family. I knew what Leo meant. I didn’t want that sneaky Big Jet to find out about my grandma’s famous homemade meatballs. Suddenly, we heard Big Jet! He was looking through the window! He peeked at the meatball recipe. Now he was going to try and find all three of those ingredients before us! But we weren’t going to let him find them. So we set off on our mission. I told the Little Einsteins that we should go to Italy to find the ingredients. First, we saw an Italian butcher shop. That was where we can go get the ground beef. But before we could head inside, there was trouble. Big Jet had set up a pitfall trap. And at that moment, we fell in! Rocket managed to get out by flying up. Then, he transformed into his crane mode and used his hook and cable to lift us out. After we got out, I used 9 coins to purchase the ground beef. Then, we set off to find a bucket of bread crumbs. We arrived at an Italian bread factory. But Big Jet set up another trap! He poured sticky glue on the floor! Our feet were stuck! But June helped us do an unsticking dance to get out of the glue puddle. We use our legs to march out of the glue. Then, we washed the glue off the bottom of our shoes. And we got the bread crumbs. After that, we set off to find the eggs. And we found some hens riding in a gondola, which was a type of boat. They were sailing through the canals. We had to find out which canal the hens went down. We had to listen to them clucking. The first canal had a doggie. The second canal had a pigeon. But the third canal had the chickens. We asked them for some eggs, and they laid some and put the eggs into a carton. We got all the ingredients. I was very happy, until Big Jet swooped in and snatched all the ingredients from me! And began to fly to my house to make the meatballs for himself! Quickly, we got on board Rocket and we helped him fly super fast! Then, Rocket used his Grab Nabber and got the ingredients back. Big Jet was so angry that he didn’t look where he was going. And he crashed into a tree! His nose and punctured a mud wasp nest! Big Jet was so scared, he flew away with an angry swarm of mud wasps chasing after him! And we all laughed. After that, we all went in the kitchen, put on chef hats and began to cook. Rocket made the spaghetti while me, Leo, Annie, Quincy & June made the meatballs. And soon, dinner was ready. We all enjoyed eating spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Then, I saw Big Jet sitting all alone, and he was starving. I didn’t want him to starve, so I kindly gave the hungry blue airplane some of my spaghetti and meatballs. Big Jet was speechless. Nobody has ever offered him food before. As we ate dinner I told them that I had a ball during our mission. A meatball that is! Everyone laughed at my pun. And with a mouthful of meatballs, Leo said “Mission completion!” The end.

[onenicebugperday]

@ashedink submitted: I have a number of nice bugs that I've wanted to submit, but I kept holding off so here is a whole bunch of fine friends from east Tennessee:

A very fine wooly worm I found just a few days ago! I'm not used to them being solid black, mostly we see black and orange banded ones. This well dressed child was so big! Nearly three inches in length!

A small centipede and a big old ant mound with my hands for scale, I see maybe 6-7 of these giant mounds on my daily walk, like 90% certain they're fire ant colonies. I love to marvel at their architecture and their security response time when I give their nest a little brush. Also my hand is not touching the mound in this picture, ant swarms are no joke when they're that big!

This is one of my favorites, she lives in my art room and actively hunts, running across the floor! Including legspan she is about the size of a gold dollar, and I have always assumed she is a wolf spider, until I realized just how many wolf spider look alikes there are! This is the one I want ID'd the most if the picture is clear enough.

A delightfully chubby oak worm. For about a month I was finding them in the road constantly (and gently tossing them off to the side of the road), I assume migrating from their initial host plant to wherever they planned on pupating.

And these were the first pictures I knew I wanted to submit. I have ALWAYS loved bugs, but like the charismatic ones like mantises, spiders, caterpillars, moths, wasps, pill bugs, hercules/rhinocerous beetles, katydids, and millipedes. I never thought much about grasshoppers until I saw some stunning pictures shared on your blog, and I realized just how COLOURFUL some of them are! Especially getting into their adult colors! So after marveling at the pictures I saw here I made it a point to take a photo of some of the meaty adult grasshoppers in the field next door. Some of them were big enough that when I would spook them and they'd take off flying I would momentarily mistake them for a tiny meadow bird. Shortly after I took this photo I accidentally spooked one into flying straight into my face and they were weighty enough that it made an audible THWAP sound. It was a charming day.

Thank you for running this blog!

Hi there :) The first caterpillar is a giant leopard moth - you're likely used to seeing Isabella tiger moths. Love the precious tiny centipede. And wow that IS a big ant mound. I accidentally stepped on one as a kid and boy let me tell you it was terrible. Would not recommend.

The spider is indeed a wolf! The eyes are the easiest way to distinguish them from lookalikes. Looks like possibly Tigrosa annexa. Very cute oakworm! Glad you helped them off the road, they are so small and don't know what cars are :(

Grasshoppers are wonderful! They were actually one of the first bugs I was into as a kid because we had so many in the field behind our hours. They will absolutely thwap you in the face but we'll just say that's a grasshopper kiss.

Thank you for sharing all your friends!

[flame-shadow]

a little curious now... is there a way to tell a wasps gender? And uh... years ago my grandma was fishing and got stung and nearly died because she was deathly allergic to stings but she didn't know until then.. that's why I try keeping my distance from wasps sometimes because I don't know if I've inherited something like that and I still don't know yet... in my area they seem to try to attack without a reason.. like, not even for defense and we know this because their nest would a little far off and we wouldn't be close to it at all but then they start zoomin' into ur ears lol. They are still very interesting and very cool creatures but I'm just a tiny bit scared of buzzing sounds now.. So sorry about last night I just wanted to give further context of their behavior because they attack people at my place every summer and we just don't know why we're just trying to chill lol ;w; . Also, is it true that when you see a big solid ball of bees in the air does that mean they are searching for a new place to live?? My friend and I saw one... well I mean.. I saw it with the corner of my eyes but she looked. She said it this HUGE almost solid ball of bees just sitting in the air and it looked like it was coming towards us so we just booked to the house. Idk, sorry about all this I'm just a little curious.

We'll do these in points for readability:

Wasps have a lot of variety, so anything I say likely won't apply to all of them [and also, if I say something wrong, I welcome polite correction from those who know more. I am just a casual wasp lover]. Generally, female wasps will be larger than males [aka drones] and they'll have ovipositors which in some but not all species have adapted into stingers. I've also noticed when reading about some species that drones have one more segment on their antennae than the females do. I don't know if that is the case for most wasps, though.

I'm sorry to hear about your grandma! That's scary that she almost died. If you can, I'd recommend getting an allergy test so you can know for sure if you, too, are allergic or not. That way, you can be more prepared to avoid stinging insects and know what to do if you do get stung. [also, if you get the kind of allergy test that checks for reactions to lots of things, you might learn about other unknown allergies that have been making you miserable. knowledge is power haha]

I know a lot of people have a strong reaction to things buzzing around their ears, even if it's not something that can sting. I get a weird tingly feeling on the back of my neck from buzzing sounds, for example. I imagine it's a pretty instinctual thing, and especially for people who are allergic, it's a useful 'oh shit i should get away' thing that might save their lives. Generally, though, it's better not to run or flail or swat at a wasp [or bee!] if it's nearby, as they could interpret the motions as a threat whereas before they were just curious/exploring. Also, certain scents can attract and potentially rile wasps and/or bees. I know bees have a reaction to banana scented stuff, for example.

You don't have to keep apologizing; thank you for realizing that your wording was hurtful. It's unfortunately quite common [in my experience] for animals like wasps to be so socially maligned that saying mean and violent things about them is normal and acceptable, maybe even encouraged! It skews perception and makes it harder to advocate for the animals. Wasps are just animals doing their animal things just like every other animal on this planet, and they don't deserve the cruel and ignorant things said about them.

I don't know as much about bees, but that does sound like they were swarming in search of a new hive. I hope they found a good, safe place to set up. <3

[devouringteeth]

[Amara parked Piper at the edge of the woods. Left the key in the ignition, but popped the hatchback. In the back was a very fucked up man who was very full of wasps. His broken leg was set with a brace. His right arm was sawn off and cauterized. The ornate censer hanging from her rearview mirror was filling the car with smoke that smelled of incense and burning skin in equal measure, which was keeping the wasps very much inside the man and very much not laying eggs under Amara's skin again. She unwraveled the chain from her mirror, got out of the car, and walked to the back.]

[...]

[She lead the man, a chain around his throat, through the woods that surrounded The Swamp. When she crossed the threshold, when she entered the land that was not native to the ground beneath it, that feeling of danger of hunger of frenzy of you are meat you are meat you are meat again caused every hair on her neck and arms to stand straight up. But the feeling wasn't new to her. Was to Sloan though, and he started protesting, though a look from the frenzied eyes that had sawed into him shut him up. He didn't know why they were here. If he did, Amara's threats would not be persuading him. The censer swung from the same fist that held his chain, the holy Flame serving as a barrier between she and he. And the smell of flesh served as an alert to the Monster.]

[...]

[Deeper still they pressed into the Swamp, until the feeling settling into her stomach felt a little too familiar. It felt like last time.]

DEVOURER. I WANT TO TALK. POLITELY.

[ Now that she wasn't trying to rescue someone, the swamp was quiet and almost - almost - peaceful. There were tadpoles in the water. A cormorant watched as she passed by, a fish under its talons. The insects swarming the hot, humid air and the stagnant water grew fewer the deeper they walked in. There were a few attempts at harmless bites before Amara's censer drove them away.]

[There was no immediate answer to her call. Behind her, the chain clinked as Sloan grimaced and pulled his braced foot out of the muck, only to immediately sink back in. Wasps buzzed, but they were few and soon landed again. Not far away was the wooden path, broken where the struggle with Mica had happened.]

[The corruption avatar was exhausted, Hungry, and injured. And in a terrible way he knows he was going to die here. It's apparent in the fear permeating the air. Is this how Eyes felt when they Knew things? He thinks it must be.]

[... Devourer? He did not like that name at all--]

[They both feel it, all of a sudden.]

[The crawling, bone deep ache of Hunger, like a living thing settling in their marrow.]

[The corruption avatar startles, panics, and even Amara's threats can't hold him anymore as he pulls at the chain and takes one, two ineffective steps before stumbling and coughing. Buzzing black and white is expelled, dispersing into the air, fleeing the way they came. Evacuating. With his one remaining hand Sloan reaches for his eye, a squelching noise as he rips it out before using his teeth to tear the rotten surface open. Three wasps escape and follow the fleeing Swarm, larger than the rest.]

[He was going to die, here. But the wasps had seen. They would live, and they would report to the Queen Mother. And she would give them a new host. The idea feels peaceful.]

[He turns his head, bleeding black from the empty socket while he gives Amara a hateful look and opens his mouth - only to scream as something massive green and brown lunges out at him. He narrowly escapes the initial bite and falls backwards into the water, but it does not save him.]

[The chain is torn out of her hand and Amara gets to watch as the Devourer, so close she can see the algae on his scales, easily crosses the spot of solid ground in one leap. It drags the man under with its full weight, water spraying in all directions. Briefly she sees Sloan resurface in the midst of black-coated bubbles before the rest of the battle - no, the Feeding - plays out in the murky depths.]

[When all is done, only a few dead wasps float on the water, and the quiet ambience of the swamp returns. The Devourer surfaces with a loud huff, spits out a piece of fabric into the muck, and steps out to meet her on land.]

[She can still tell that he is tempted to have another taste of her, can feel the twinge of desire as his yellow eyes flit to her new arm. But he stays where he is, seven feet of distance between the avatar and the monster. He tilts his head inquisitively, waiting for her words.]

[jjmjjktth]

Prologue: The Escape

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

I saw this fic idea by @messymessyml and couldn’t help myself. I tagged the people who asked to be tagged on the original post; if you want to be added comment or send an ask ;) 

Damian is 16 and Marinette is a month shy of 16 at the beginning of the fic.

the characters may be a tad OOC.

TW: Bullying, cursing (it’s censored but still there)

        Damian stormed into the cave through the zeta tube. Everyone moved aside; they had not seen a look of such fury since he had first come to Gotham. Despite him not being the violent assassin he was raised to be, Robin found himself nearly following through with his usual threats. Not even bothering to discard his equipment, the heir walked straight to one of the side rooms for private discussions. As predicted, his father followed him. No doubt for a lecture. 

        Spinning around to face his father, Damian took a deep breath. I can’t lose my head, it won't help my case. 

        “Father….” there was so much defeat and anger in his voice that the bat seemed to almost reconsider his decision, almost. Robin watched his Father lift his hand to stop him from speaking any further, and begin to address him.

        “It was the right call, Damian. It had to be done. You cannot just run around with superpowers. I had to deal with that.”  

        “It wasn’t your call.” The teen growled. “I had an advantage, Father! It would have been hard for Mother to kill me again! I was safe.” 

        “You do not need powers to be safe, Damian.”

        “I died because I was too slow. It wasn’t your call to remove my safety net! It was mine!”

        “I am your father! Everything is my call!” Daman could see that this was going nowhere. Setting his face into a scowl, he left the cave. 

        Left with his thoughts as he navigated through the maze-like halls of Wayne Manor, the young hero began to negotiate with himself; beginning a difficult game of mental tug-of-war. Weighing the pros and cons proved to be harder than he originally thought; it started with admitting that he may have become attached to his “siblings”, at least more than he would have originally thought he could be. On the other hand, they treated him one of two ways, all of the time; he was always either a child or a weapon. At the very least they should be able to treat him like his actual age! But, they also cared for him a lot… in their own way.  On top of that, the manor was a hugely more beneficial environment than the league ever was. His mother would also have a harder time reaching him here. That didn't stop her before.  Despite how “safe” this place was said to be, his mother still found a way to kill him for his change in loyalty. If he left, he would surely be caught. If you stay, she will know you’re here and plan accordingly. 

        Slowly the pros started to outweigh the cons making his decision obvious, he would run away tonight.

        It wasn’t until he arrived in his room that he realized he was still wearing his uniform. Not wanting to return to the cave, the heir simply folded the uniform and placed it at the end of his bed. No doubt Pennyworth would retrieve it in the morning. He glanced around his room. There weren't any decorations aside from the occasional painting or katana. Making up his mind, Damian went through his few belongings that mattered. He had to be careful to find ones that would not have a tracking device in them. I’ll have to go to my safehouse for clothes. He gathered up all his weapons that wouldn't be noticed gone and wouldn't be flagged by airport security. Putting everything in a bag, he snuck out his window and took off for his apartment. Leaving only a note that read, I need space, I will be at one of my safehouses, off grid.

___________Marinette pov______________

        “You b*tch!” a loud slap echoed across the school courtyard. “Not only are you a liar and a bully, you’re a thief too!” Alya screamed, waving her hands around. “That’s Lila’s life’s work and you just claim it as your own! Lazy, fat, sl*t!”

        “But, Alya! I have my sig–”

        “I didn’t say you could speak, wh*r*.” Alya said, grabbing the designer’s shirt. “You are going to stand up; walk over to Lila; apologise; and give her her sketchbook back. Understand b*tch.”

        “No.” Mari took a deep breath and shoved her building emotions back down into their designated corner. “I will not apologise to Lila because I did–”

        “What did you say b*tch!”

        “I said no.”

        “You piece of sh*t.”

        At this point Marinette just tuned her ex-best friend out. She always said the same things.  So the heroine only waited. 

        After school Marinette left for home immediately; she did not want to be in any trouble for being late for her shift. With twenty minutes to spare, the girl leapt up the stairs three-at-a-time to reach her room with enough time for concealer. She would probably be grounded for operating the register with marks on her face. It’s a good thing that my miraculous has healing properties or I wouldn't be able to work at all.

        While at the till, a swarm of wasps swept through the shop stinging everyone, except Marinette. As soon as she saw the wasps, she took off for the walk-in freezer in the back of the bakery. Tikki fazed through the door to see when it would be clear to leave the freezer. 

        “All clear Marinette!” Tikki chirped. 

        “Thanks.” The hero swung open the door and took off running for the Seine. 

        Upon arriving at he famous river, Marinette dove into the water scattering the trail of wasps behind her. Pulling out the water powerup, Mari was amazed to discover that even underwater the macaroon did not get soggy, but remained its usual texture and firmness. Calling for her transformation again, Ladybug sprinted to Master Fu’s location unaware of the villain tailing her.

        “Master Fu! May I use the snake miraculous?” With a nod, Master Fu pulled out the miracle box and selected the snake miraculous. 

        “Thank you!” LB called out as she left merging the two miraculous. Lately, Marinette had taken to using the ladybug and snake miraculous together having taken the cat miraculous away from Adrien. 

        Arriving in front of the town hall, Ladybug surveyed the battlefield. In front of the akuma, Miracle Queen, stood all her previous allies: Adrien, Luka, Ivan, Nino, Max, Alya, and Kagami. They all appear to have been stung by the wasps. At that moment, Hawkmoth arrived bearing the miracle box! Hawkmoth passed the box to Miracle Queen and the students stepped forward to take their respective jewels. All but two, Luka and Adrien. Ladybug had both of those miraculous on her person (the black cat miraculous was in her yoyo) She was about to enter the battle when Master Fu leapt over the building in pursuit of the villain weilding the turtle as Jade Turtle. At that moment Ladybug engaged the various villains calling for her second chance. 

        As she landed, Pegasus opened a portal to space. Reactivating second chance she tried again, and again, and again, and again. Until she managed to take the dragon and horse miraculous back.

        There was a rush of wind and all the holders before her, except Hawkmoth and Myura, were stripped of their miraculous as a light formed above her head. Oh no, Master Fu! The miracle box fell into her hands. Using the destraction Ladybug broke and purified the akuma.

         She ran to Master Fu as quickly as she could.

        “Master Fu! Are you okay?” She waited with baited breath.

        “Hello, young lady, do I know you?” There went any hope I had.

        “No, I’m just a concerned citizen.” 

        I dropped off the miracle box in my room before releasing Tikki from my transformation and entering the bakery through the front. Her parents were there, waiting for her. 

        “We’ll talk about this later.” Sabine said smiling at Marinette with daggers for eyes.

        “Yes, Maman.” Nope. Nope. Nope. Not today. Not ever.

        As soon as Marinette reached her room, she pulled out the miracle box, a backpack of clothes and sewing supplies, and her toiletries (she could pull money out of her account later if needed). Opening the box, Marinette took out the horse miraculous releasing Kaalki.

        “Master F– where is Master Fu, Marinette.”

        “Gone, he relinquished his guardianship when hawkmoth cornered him.” She put on the glasses. “I need an escape; is that ok Kaalki?”

        “Of course guardian.”

        The girl called for Kaalki’s transformation, summoned a portal, gathered her belongings, and walked through.

Authors notes will be at the end from now on (minus warnings and such)

what should i call this story?

Smiles and love, Jjmjjktth <3 :)

Next - Masterlist

Taglist: @swiftie-miraculer13 @messymessyml

[prfctethereal]

NASA. | sirius black

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play NASA by ariana grande

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: you tell sirius about your anxiety and confide about what you need from him

word count: 1,941

warnings: angst, swearing, anxiety, claustrophobia

a/n: here's the next one shot in my thank u next series. thank you for all the kind words i've already received and here's to another one. - kennedy

***

Sweltering clouds settled into the evening sky like a swarm of wasps attacking its prey. Rain droplets peltering onto the window sending loud crashes through my eardrums. And I couldn’t breathe. It felt as though everything was closing in on me. A tight arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping me still, making sure I didn’t move, but I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.

Breathe goddamnit!

The walls were caving in. My chest was restricting. A pressure was building up, weighing me down into the ground. I couldn’t breathe. Then, I was surrounded by the coldest of water, prickling into my delicate flesh, like several tiny daggers pressing firm on me. I couldn’t breathe. Drowning in a lake of nothingness, everything felt dark and empty, yet there was still a weight around me, succumbing me until I couldn’t breathe. With the last gasp of air, I froze, my eyes lulling backwards into my head.

When they reopened, I realised that it had all been a nasty nightmare. It was the middle of the night and a small draft was coming in through the window, pushing the curtain back just far enough for a dribble of moonlight to litter onto the carpet. Beads of sweat trickled down my burning face, the heat of the moment waking me from my claustrophobic dream. My breathing was slowing down but my heart was still beating out of my chest. I sighed, wondering how I hadn’t already woken up the love of my life, whose arm is currently wrapped around my torso, bringing me in close to his chest, the top of my head, nuzzled softly into his neck.

I wasn’t in the mood for cuddle time with Sirius Black unfortunately. His arm around me was no longer comforting and his soft breathing was no longer soothing, but irritating, and was setting me on edge. He was too close and I was losing my mind.

Sirius had always been clingy and I knew what I had signed up for when we started dating. Whether it was his arm around my waist or his fingers dotingly playing with a loose strand of my hair, he was constantly around me. I adored the attention but even after nearly a year of dating, I still hadn’t told him my biggest fear, which was claustrophobia: the fear of confined spaces.

He was understanding and considerate, a real gentleman, I knew that as much. Lovingly, he was always there when I struggled with anxiety, but sometimes his techniques were overbearing and sent me spiraling even worse than before. Like today, as my anxiety peaked during class.

During charms class, I was always able to concentrate. Professor Flitwick was an excellent and engaging teacher so it was always easy to feel calm in his classes, yet today, it was different. Maybe it was the rising temperatures or the tie that was just a little too tight around my neck, but the thing that sent me over the edge was my boyfriend’s hand that found its way to rest gently on my thigh.

It wasn’t his fault; it was something he always did. Weirdly, I couldn’t stand it today. Something was wrong and I needed space, but when my breath quickened and my hand started shaking, he only made it worse. I knew Sirius was only trying to help but when he had wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer into him, I couldn’t deal. I had excused myself from class and ran into the wall, tears rolling down my cheeks. Sitting in an empty hallway, I let everything out, crying until Professor McGonagall saw me when she was walking the halls and let me into her office where I could calm down.

I never explained what was wrong because nothing was wrong really. Well, I didn’t feel like anything was wrong.

That was why when Sirius suggested I stayed with him tonight, I agreed straight away. Whenever my anxiety took over, he nearly always invited me to stay in his dorm with him. We could cuddle and read books together; whatever it took to calm me down and make me feel safe again. Unfortunately, that was the opposite tonight.

Shifting out of the bed, I was hesitant to make sure that Sirius didn’t wake up as I swung my legs around and placed them on the cool wooden floors of the boy’s dormitories. I had snuck into the room so much that I knew what floorboard creaked and which didn’t, so I was fairly certain I could make it out of the room without waking anyone up.

My judgments were wrong though. Listening out, the faint sounds of the boy’s snores filled the room, masking my heavy breathing. They weren’t loud enough to mask when I stubbed my toe on the edge of Sirius’ bed, letting out of low hiss as I lost my balance and stepped onto a loose floorboard. Truthfully, it wasn’t so loud, but it felt like a rocket going off for me. Slowly, I looked back to see Sirius stirring softly in his sleep. I assumed I was safe. I was wrong.

As soon as I stepped out of the boy’s dormitories, I felt a presence behind me. Enveloping me with his arms, Sirius came up and wrapped me into one of his famous hugs. It was too much though. I wriggled free of his grip, wiping the tears forming in the corners of my eyes with the back of my hands. Hesitantly, Sirius reached out for me but I backed away, closing my hands around my chest.

“Darling?” Sirius’ voice quivered with worry, taking a step towards me.

“Leave me alone, Sirius.” I bit back at him, instantly regretting the tone of voice I had used. His face fell immediately, his usually prominent smirk wiped away by his pouting lip and his wide eyes. It seemed as so I had broken his heart. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you did, it’s fine-”

“Come with me and I’ll explain.” Cutting him off, I beckoned him to follow me as we crept down the staircase together and through the opening portrait door. His hand was swinging by his hand, trying to tangle up with mine, but I pulled away, scared that my senses would flare up.

Normally when my anxiety would get too much, I would take a midnight walk to the astronomy tower to clear my head. Something about sitting on the balcony with my legs dangling off the side and my eyes glued to the sky calmed me in a way nothing else could. The smell of the night air mixed with the enclosed darkness felt like home. I liked being alone with my thoughts.

“I’m sorry about how I acted today.” I said quietly, as we turned a corner in the halls. Sirius knew that I was taking him to the astronomy tower as it wasn’t the first time he had caught me sneaking out in the middle of the night for some fresh air.

“Please don’t apologise, sweetheart, your anxiety is not your fault.” He replied, reaching out once again for my arm, but I dodged it moving to the side. That movement from me was noticeable enough to get a reaction from Sirius, who sighed sadly, pulling his arms back to himself.

“It’s not just my anxiety though.” I contemplated how I would explain it and Sirius frowned at my thinking face. His hands itched to grab my face and stroke my cheek with the pads of his fingers, but he stopped himself, remembering the way I had been reacting to all other forms of physical affection today.

Eventually, I found the words I had been looking for and began explaining. “I guess, it is kind of my anxiety, but it’s more than that. I have really bad claustrophobia and usually it doesn’t get the best of me. Hell, most of the time I don’t even notice it! But today, I don’t know, it felt as though it flared up all of a sudden. That’s why I’ve been rejecting your touches. It just feels like I can’t breathe all the fucking time and it hurts. I love you and I love your comfort, but I need space. Not just you, from everyone. I need my alone time sometimes, so I can breathe again.”

Sirius listened intently through my rambling, until we got to the staircase of the astronomy tower. He followed me upwards and a rush of fresh air filled my lungs when we got to the top. Walking over to the balcony, Sirius still tagged along behind, but kept his distance.

“I understand, [Y/N].” My name rolled off of his tongue almost melodically. “I just wish you had told me sooner. I feel bad, I should’ve noticed, but I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” I sighed out, turning back to look at the night sky. Sirius came up next to me at the balcony banister and recognised my tense body language, opting to slide a metre away from me. Smiling sheepishly, I turned and pointed at the night sky.

A comfortable silence fell between us. I wasn't sure if it was because Sirius was too unsure of what to say or if he enjoyed the quiet. Eventually, I decided to break the tension and say something to him.

“Sometimes, I dream of being a star in space.” With earned an incredulous eyebrow lift from Sirius, whose name is quite literally a star in space. I giggled before continuing. “I mean, they're so far apart from one another - light years away! You have all the distance you need, all the quiet you want.”

Sirius hummed in agreement, before pointing at something in the sky. “You see that there? That is Sirius, the brightest star is the sky. And you see that?” He waved his hand around slightly, “That is the constellation Canis Major: the constellation that Sirius is a part of.”

Another silence fell before I took another root with the conversation. “I wanted to keep astronomy as one of my subjects but I always thought that people would make fun of me for keeping it on my schedule. It was my favourite subject and I loved every moment of it.”

“You should’ve kept studying it then.” Sirius said in a hushed voice, his eyes peeling off of the sky and onto me.

“I thought you would laugh at me.” I whispered, barely audible, but Sirius heard.

“I would never laugh at you, never. Honestly, I never even knew you liked this sort of stuffed.” He paused, momentarily. “Tell me all your favourite things about astronomy.”

I smiled, blushing happily as I started pointing at different constellations in the sky. “That there is Scorpio, my favourite constellation. In all truth, it’s my favourite because it’s your horoscope sign. Oh, and that over there is the Big Dipper, or the Plough, and my mother would always tell me that was her favourite constellation. It was mine too, until I met you.”

Pausing, I looked back at Sirius who was utterly fascinated by what I was saying, clinging onto every word I said, encouraging me to keep going. “And tonight is a crescent moon, but it's about to become a new moon in two nights' time. The new moon is the symbol of starting fresh and signals for change to come. I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“The sky is beautiful tonight.” Sirius spoke after a while and I hummed in agreement, but he kept going.”

“Do you know what else is beautiful?”

“What?”

“You.”

[restapesta]

done for

I read somewhere that there weren’t enough s3 and s2 moments between Ian and Mickey written, and I completely agreed, so this was born! This is sort of a speedwrite thing, because it took me 50 minutes which I had set for myself to write this, and it’s kind of short (there was so much word vomit and I just cut all of that lol). Anyway, this is basically Ian and Mickey’s kiss after the first one, and no, it’s not during the sleepover because that’s just triggering knowing what comes next lol (this is kind of between the van kiss and invite to the sleepover). Enjoy!

Mickey opened a dam by kissing Ian that first time in the van; he was unaware of how much water would overflow with that one simple press of lips. Getting shot in the ass was a warning—a clear sign from the universe not to fucking try to do it again—but fuck if he could stop Ian from finishing what Mickey himself had started. It took only a few days for Ian to do what Mickey had encouraged him enough to achieve.

It took until the next time they saw each other.

They were in the Kash 'n Grab, inching for their usual break, and Ian seemed strange. His eyes held a sort of primal stare that locked Mickey in and forbade him from escaping. Ian held his gaze, all while locking the door insinuatingly, nodding towards the freezer. Mickey understood, but hesitated, confident that this whole thing wouldn’t be just another one of their average hookups. Ian and Mickey had never been average, but their normal was fucking, pants around their ankles, barely any unnecessary touches, and no kissing.

Mickey stupidly erased that important fucking boundary, and all it took to do so was a simple challenge in Ian’s voice; he’s not afraid to kiss me. And fuck Ian for making everything infuriatingly complicated.

Mickey wasn’t afraid of anything—if he could handle juvie and drug runs, he could handle kissing Ian fucking Gallagher, even if he was a dude. Mickey never backed down from a challenge; he was a Milkovich, taking a challenge head-on was in his blood. And it wouldn’t even mean anything. It’s just lips pressing together. Mickey had kissed many girls in his eighteen years of life, and they never meant shit to him. He wasn’t even fucking gay. He enjoyed having something up his ass, but that didn’t mean he liked Ian. Ian just had a good dick.

Ian wasn’t a bad guy and maybe Mickey did like hanging out with him, but romantic stuff? Mickey wasn’t a fag like Ian, he didn’t have feelings for him and all that bullshit.

When he kissed him—even though he said it meant nothing; even if he wanted to keep pretending that he hadn’t daydreamed about Ian touching his mouth to his own more times than he could count—he couldn’t. Not anymore, at least. The kiss was quick. Barely even there. And yet, it lingered. It lingered inside Mickey’s mind days after as he lay on his stomach, trying to relieve the pain from the bullet wound on his ass cheek. He kept replaying the moment in his head; the fucking feeling that followed it.

Mickey never felt fucking butterflies because he wasn’t a fucking teenaged girl, but the warmth in the pit of his stomach suggested otherwise. It only appeared when he was around Ian—it was simply there these past years he had known Gallagher, and Mickey wasn’t really used to it; it made him icky and nervous. Now, the warmth spread from his abdomen towards other parts of his body, and not just his dick. The feeling encompassed his chest, his legs, his hands; it left him tingling all over, and there was a dull ache in his ribcage, as if somebody had taken his heart in their hand and squeezed it.

Mickey didn’t know if he should blame Gallagher for it—would that be admitting something to himself and to Ian? He didn’t care, especially not now when the guy in question was coming up behind him in the cold room they always used as hookup spot in the store. Not when Ian had a dangerous look in his eyes, a glint that Mickey couldn't place.

Ian was perfect; he always had been, much to Mickey’s chagrin, who just wanted to dub him as annoyingly clingy and get rid of his aggravating presence. But he couldn’t; not when Ian smiled and flashed his white teeth. Not when his freckles multiplied in the summer glow. And definitely not when he grew from a cute kid with dark red bangs to the type of guy who made Mickey’s dick hard with just the mental image of his chiseled body. Mickey could also lie and say Ian’s dimples didn’t turn him on, and that his stupid laugh didn’t churn his insides. That he didn’t feel nauseous in the best and worst ways when Ian got closer.

That Ian wasn’t getting closer in every single way possible.

The ginger was here now in Mickey’s space. Green eyes dark with lust and confidence, and suddenly, Mickey didn’t have a clue what to do. Ian was in charge, with his pale hands caressing Mickey’s face, fingertips passing over his lips. The action stunned Mickey, and he was sure his eyes were wide and wild, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t force himself to stop Ian; to tell him the usual, no, I’m not what you think I am, I don’t like you. Get the fuck off me.

Ian was intoxicating; he was like a drug Mickey once tried, and now couldn’t stop taking. Ian gave him a high like Mickey had never experienced. He made him hide his smiles and laughter; he made him dream, and for the first time in years, the dreams weren’t nightmares. Ian made him feel happy.

He was leaning in now. Mickey didn’t want to stop him. He had drawn a line they shouldn’t’ve crossed, that he said Ian shouldn’t cross. But didn’t Mickey completely erase that with the van thing?

Ian was kissing him now, his soft lips pressing against Mickey’s, agonizingly slow. They were just touching. One moment there, so soft, and the next, gone. Ian, pulling away, forced Mickey to meet his eyes as his insides twisted into tight knots, unrelenting. There was a whole fucking swarm of bees in his stomach and they were stinging him, and fuck, Ian’s eyes were so shiny.

HIs eyes were closing again as Ian dipped his head. It was different now; Ian wasn’t just letting their conjoined mouths rest—he was moving his soft lips. They were kissing, and Ian was gripping Mickey’s head, thumb caressing his cheek, and Mickey let himself get kissed because it felt so good. And fuck, not even sex was this amazing.

This wasn’t raw lust and passion. This wasn’t what Ian and Mickey were, fuck-buddies, border-lining friends.

This was a lover’s kiss, and Mickey would never admit how good it felt. How his entire body seemed to boil from the heat, even if they were in a goddamn cooler. Mickey couldn’t even stop to wonder if he was doing this right; hadn’t he been told by many girls that he was a terrible kisser? Good fuck, shitty kisser. He stopped kissing girls during sex after that, but was he doing good now? Was Ian… he shouldn’t be thinking that, not when Ian was slipping his tongue past Mickey’s parted lips, after he came up to gasp for air.

He didn’t even need air right now. He needed Ian, and there was no doubt in his mind anymore. Not a single one as he positioned himself better, and gripped Ian’s face and Ian’s red locks, tugging at them.

This feeling; their tongues meeting and setting Mickey on fire, making the swarm of bees become wasps and spread from his stomach to his chest, was indescribable. Blood shot straight down to his dick. And there was something about kissing Ian, about the way he bit his lower lip with his teeth, pulling on it. About the way he dug his hands into Mickey’s sides, pressing him impossibly closer, that made Mickey feel like there was nothing else in this world but Ian.

Ian, who strolled into his life with nothing but a fucking tire iron.

Ian, who was his perfect match. The top to his fucking bottom.

Ian, who had somehow become his best fucking friend.

Ian, who was kissing him like Mickey was the only person in the entire universe.

Breathless, panting, they pulled apart. Ian seemed like he was barely standing upright, and Mickey understood. His knees were wobbly, and he could barely hold himself straight; would probably topple over if it wasn’t for Ian, holding him by his waist. His lips were red and swollen, and he was looking at Mickey with his eyes swimming with lust and maybe something more. He looked so hot.

And then Ian smiled his wonderful smile, and Mickey couldn’t stop himself. This was when he fucking surrendered because there was no way he could fight the urge anymore.

It was the moment he admitted to himself that Ian Gallagher had crept his way inside of Mickey, both literally and figuratively, and it would be impossible to cast him out now. Not when he finally knew what it felt like to kiss him. To be kissed by him.

Mickey was fucking done for.

He knew it as he pressed forward to kiss Ian chastely on the lips again. He couldn’t stop himself; this wasn’t him. He didn’t kiss guys. He wasn’t fucking gay.

But this was Ian, and Ian was so fucking beautiful with his pale skin, his emerald green eyes, and his fucking freckles, and, oh God, his lips. His fucking lips.

How could Mickey not fall in...

No.

No.

Ian kissed him again, and Mickey lost his trail of thought.

“See,” He started as they pulled apart, again. “You should’ve let me kiss you a long time ago.”

And Mickey was so fucking lucky, because he remembered to scoff and not just stare at Ian like a love-struck idiot. “Dream on, this wasn’t that good.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

“Oh?” Ian didn’t seem too deterred, but he was still leery. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Mickey didn’t know how to reply. Of course he wasn’t, and Ian didn’t need to be worried, so Mickey replied the only way he knew how.

He grinned teasingly, “Maybe you should try again, and see if it works better.”

Ian smiled that fucking gorgeous, amazing smile, and kissed Mickey. He kissed him and Mickey felt so high that he didn’t think any drug could ever replicate what he was feeling now. The bliss he had never felt, not even in the best of orgasms Ian had given him. This right here; this was better than all the best times in his life combined, and it scared Mickey. It scared him so much.

There was no coming back from this. But Mickey didn’t want to come back; he had jumped off of a fucking cliff the first time Ian Gallagher told one of his stupid puns, and made Mickey want to laugh at how adorable he was.

He knew he was fucked then. And he knew he was fucked now.

“Better?” Ian’s breath fanned Mickey’s face.

“Maybe.”

And they didn’t stop kissing. Not when they left for the abandoned buildings; Ian didn’t waste time pushing Mickey down onto the hot pavement and slipping his tongue into Mickey’s mouth, effectively lighting him on fire. Mickey was hotter than the blazing Sun burning their backs through their thin summer clothes.

They didn’t stop kissing the next day, either. Ian was smart; he didn’t greet Mickey with a kiss in the middle of the street, but he pushed him against the wall the moment they were alone and out of sight, clasping their mouths together as if Mickey was the air he needed to breathe.

And Mickey let him.

He let him do whatever he wanted, because there was no fight let in him—no resignation. No hope to push Ian away anymore.

There was nobody out there like Ian Gallagher. And Ian Gallagher belonged to him; Mickey knew it in the way he pushed forward to meet every kiss and every thrust of his tongue inside his mouth Ian sent his way.

He would never get kissed like this by anyone else, ever again.

Mickey was aware, even then, that he would kiss Ian Gallagher for the rest of his fucking damned life, no matter how short it was.

It sealed his fate for fucking good and there was no going back.

[ask-ethari-anything]

Ethari I was wondering could I dare you to tell us an angsty story?

*wholesome chuckle* Trying to outwit a Moonshadow elf during a full Moon? I applaud your ambition, love!

If it's dares you wish to ask, please see my husband--if he's visible, that is. I also prefer to spend the full Moon having fun, but my sense of fun only has some overlap with Runaan's.

But I can have fun with an angsty story. That's not illegal. Not tonight, anyway!

Once upon a time, I set out into the forest to pick up some tasty fruits for a surprise picnic for Runaan. Tethu was very eager to ride out with me, the air was nice and crisp with a warm breeze, and I had my favorite scarf on.

But a moonsquirrel darted out in front of Tethu soon after we left the Silvergrove and challenged him over a fallen nut, and Tethu sneezed in surprise and slipped on a wet rock near the stream and hurt his front left foot. So I decided to walk beside him instead. That changed the menu since some things were suddenly too far out of range, and I got angsty over it. Bumbleberries make for a very nice smoothie, and suddenly I was having to settle for quintzes instead. That's just not the same, not at all.

Then I pricked my finger on a sourthorn bush. Do that and you'll be tasting lemons in the back of your mouth for hours.

Then a molting puffball exploded right near my boots and got them all coated in spores and gave Tethu a coughing fit, and when I tried to wipe them off with a soft shammyleaf, the leaf curled up on me and growled because it was freshly bonded with its assassin wasp partner. And I know better than to mess with an assassin's partner, no matter the species.

And then we had to sneak past two warring nests of yammerbeetles--I say "sneak" but you couldn't have heard me if I'd played my lute and marched at the head of a hundred-elf band, the way those beetles were trying to out-rap each other--and I tried to hop across a stream while holding Tethu's supply basket so he didn't have to, and, well... I couldn't hear the passing elfatee's warning rumble over the yammerbeetles, and she slammed right into my shins and toppled me and my basket right into the stream! I got soaked, and all my fruity goodies floated away!

The elfatee grumbled something unrepeatable at me and swam away, and I sat up to my chest in the cold stream for almost a minute before I realized that my favorite scarf had washed away!

"No, Tethu, my scarf," I groaned. "It was my favorite!" I buried my face in my hands and tried not to cry. Tethu flopped down beside me to commiserate my horrible luck, but when I tried to lean against his warmth, he floated away downstream. My best boy just drifted away, and I felt very alone, and very cold and wet.

I managed to get out of the stream and sit on the bank, but that just made me start to shiver. I felt very miserable as I thought about the long walk back home.

Then I heard a soft rumble, and something nudged my shoulder. It was Tethu, standing in the stream, holding my lost scarf gently in his mouth for me. My best boy had floated off down the stream to fetch it back for me, even though his foot hurt!

Well, then I did burst into tears. I threw my arms around his wet feathery neck and sobbed for a minute, because even though I was having the worst day, I wasn't having it alone.

He shook himself dry--and got me extra wet in the process--and then we started trudging for home with nothing to show for our hours of effort except aches and pains and chills. I was extra grumpy because there's not much that my little enchantments can do about being cold. But then, I spotted something that did cheer me up just a little.

A fluffershroom! A great puffball that can grow as tall as an elf when it's ripe and ready to burst. They look like someone enchanted a star plum to giant proportions. If they've popped and released their seeds, their shells make fine impromptu shelters from passing rainstorms, and the filaments inside them are well known for their water-wicking properties. Moonshadow elves use them in everything from tents to tunics to keep ourselves dry, and it works really well unless we've fallen into a whole stream or something.

I tapped the fluffershroom's shell to see if it was ripe, perchance, and did my best to sense its maturity. It was very nearly ready to pop, but when I knocked, it just sat there like a rock.

My one chance to get warm and dry again, foiled by a stubborn fungus? I don't think so.

I whipped open my tool belt and dropped a very pointed enchantment onto my little jeweler's file and had a very sudden interaction with the fluffershroom's shell. *ahem* I may have yelled at it, too... Not my proudest moment. However, as all my enchantments do, it worked like a charm. *chuckles* Worked a little too well, in fact.

All of the fluffershroom's fluffy purple seeds burst through the shell directly toward me! I couldn't see a thing for a few seconds, but I felt like I was getting wrapped in feathers. When I could see again--barely--I saw Tethu blinking in shock beside me, absolutely swarmed with giant purple tufted seeds about three feet long apiece, like a soft and fluffy hedgehog. And I was very tufty, too!

The seeds absorbed all the water that had drenched us, and we were toasty warm as we made our way home. Of course, the seeds stuck to us pretty firmly, but at that point, I'd given up on having any sort of normal day. I danced my way into the Silvergrove covered in long purple seed filaments, marched up to my home, and started pulling the seeds off of Tethu's fur and stacking them in bundles for later--waste not, want not!

And then Runaan came downstairs, looking worried and geared up to go looking for me. The way his expression softened when he saw me warmed the last cold places in my heart.

"Ethari, have you been having adventures without me?" he asked softly, as he knelt beside me and began to pull the long seeds off of my horns.

"I didn't mean to have any adventures at all," I assured him. "I was only trying to surprise you."

"Well, my precious seedmaster," Runaan said, parting the seed fluff so he could lean in and kiss me, "consider me surprised."

I had to hug him right that instant. He yelped as he vanished inside my purple fluffy embrace, but he snuggled in and started pulling more seeds off of me, until he finally pronounced me seedless again. Then we helped Tethu get all seedless too, and brushed and groomed him until he purred himself to sleep.

Runaan made me hot tea and fetched some moonberry tarts and listened to my recounting of all my disasters, and in the end, we had an impromptu picnic right there on the floor, safe and sound at home, in the best and softest of company.

[quaememinisse]

Daddy to The Rescue

Theme: Dad Bucky, Hurt/Comfort, Love

Author’s Note: Bucky saves his daughter from a swarm of wasps while hiking. I guess it was inspired by that little scene with that dumb bitch Karli Morgenthau. She looked like an innocent little kid at first that Bucky was about to rescue. I can’t remember all that happened in episode 3. I need to re-watch. I was far too baked. As usual, this little one shot is based on my series: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799851/chapters/6284765

Christina’s blood curdling scream causes both Bucky and Cherise’s hearts to lurch. Immediately, Bucky starts to run up ahead on the trail where Christina is visible, now flailing her little arms around as if to swat something away.

           “JAMES!” Cherise’s yell elicits a physical pain in Bucky’s chest as he glances over his shoulder, nearly snapping his neck, to see the woman trying as best she can with little Theodore in her sling, to catch up. The baby begins to cry, and once Bucky has ascertained that nothing catastrophic has happened to his wife or son, his legs never halt in propelling him towards his daughter. He reaches her long before Cherise ever would have, whether she was carrying their four-month-old or not. Hearing Christina screaming for her mother and father is the scariest noise he’s ever heard. And he had heard people take their last breath beneath the weight of his own palm. He’s close enough now to tell that Christina must have stepped in a wasp’s nest. Little red welts are already surfacing on her delicate skin, and he doesn’t hesitate to thrust himself inside the swarm, each sting unnoticeable to him. All he can hear is buzzing and his little girl screaming for dear life. He swoops her up into his arms after tearing the shirt off his back to cover her head and prevent the vicious creatures from getting into her nose and mouth.

           “JAMES—!”

           “Stay back—it’s bees!”

He can hardly see for a moment as the wasps start attacking him even more. A stream that he had noticed about five minutes prior sparkles in the campestral distance. At breakneck speed, he runs for it.

           “Hold your breath, baby,” he says frantically, pressing his panting mouth to where Christina’s ear is hidden beneath the fabric of his blue t-shirt. She’s crying, clutching him.

           “Hold your breath, Stina—when I tell you to,” he says desperately, loudly. Once in the air, just before the splash, he rips the shirt from her face and tells her again to hold her breath. Christina’s eyes are wider than Bucky has ever seen them before they’re both engulfed in a cold depth. The soldier kicks his legs like crazy, angling backwards several yards down the stream, hoping the child is keeping her breath held. He’s not under for more than ten seconds before he lifts her headfirst out of the water, breaching the surface and frantically looking about to see whether the swarm is still near them. Thankful that there’s not a wasp in sight, he can hear Christina whimpering.

           “James?! James?! Christina!”

The baby crying because Cherise is screaming is even more distressing to Bucky. He can hear Cherise not too far in the distance. He pulls Christina out of the water, eying her stings. The damage is significant and her face is starting to swell up. The greatest fear he has ever felt consumes him as the six-year-old cries uncontrollably. Cherise finally makes her way towards them, hurrying and trying not to further antagonize Theodore, who is wailing.

           “Oh my god! Oh my god! Stina!”

Cherise catches a glimpse of the child’s stings, Bucky heaving, wet, and topless, also stung in a number of places, the redness very visible against his pallor in the high noon sunlight.

           “It hurts!” Christina cries, reaching for her leg where the stings are the worst, her little hands trembling.

           “Hang on, baby—I’ve got you,” Bucky promises reassuringly, though he’s more terrified than he lets on. He glances up at Cherise, who is eying them both with panic. Bucky picks Christina up quickly, starting towards the path.

           “We gotta get to a hospital right now,” he breathes. He’s just thankful they hadn’t spent more than five minutes on the trail before this happened. Cherise nearly trips trying to keep up with Bucky. He turns around to look at her fearfully, telling her to be careful, asking her if she has any water. Cherise hands her insulated bottle to Bucky and he pours the iced water contents over the stings on Christina’s leg, all while making his way to the car. Cherise is crying, though Theo has calmed down. Christina is still crying, clutching the soldier’s metal arm.

           “Daddy,” she wails.

           “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he insists, kissing her forehead as he scans the parking lot for their car. For a moment, his heart sinks into his chest. The keys aren’t in his pocket. But Cherise immediately unlocks the car and starts to put Theodore in his seat. Bucky finds himself thankful that Cherise had picked up his backpack when he started running towards Christina. He didn’t even notice himself dropping it. Had she not picked it up, he’d have had to run back down the trail just to retrieve the keys. He pauses to double check and make sure that Theo’s car seat is buckled in properly, Christina huddled in Cherise’s lap, clutching her mother and crying, swelling up more by the moment. Fearing that soon her throat will close, Bucky starts to drive. He had seen a sign for a hospital not far from the hiking grounds, and he floors it. He barely stops the car before Cherise rushes towards the entrance, Christina in her arms. Bucky finds himself panting as his hands tremble and he unbuckles Theodore’s seat completely instead of picking him up out of it.

“You’re okay, buddy,” he says, the baby having begun to fuss. He makes his way right after Cherise, clutching the baby’s seat, not even bothering to lock the car. He’s in soon enough to see a team of nurses rushing Christina away on a bed, Cherise following.

“You’re gonna be okay, Stina,” Cherise explains reassuringly. Bucky rushes alongside Cherise. Christina is crying for her mother, clutching her leg. The couple only makes it up to a set of doors before they’re told they have to let the doctor handle things. Bucky gently places Theo’s seat against the wall and grips Cherise’s shoulders.

“She’ll—she’ll be okay,” he says, but the way his lips quiver momentarily makes it known that he’s not sure about this. Cherise’s eyes widen as she scans Bucky up and down. Finally, the soldier can feel the pain of the stings. But they’re mild compared to the pain he feels for his daughter. Cherise’s hand is trembling as she cups his cheek and he winces. His jaw has been stung, his forehead, his neck, just about everywhere. Yet, he wasn’t swelling up and he didn’t look nearly as bad as his daughter. Before Cherise can utter another word, her gaze travels skywards a moment before she suddenly loses balance.

           “Hey—whoa,” Bucky breathes, catching Cherise before she can make contact with the linoleum. He calls for help loudly and Theo starts to cry again, startled by the noise.

           “Cherry? Cherry,” Bucky calls, holding her head in his hands. Before Bucky knows it, a nurse is directing him to let her head down gently. She starts shining a light in Cherise’s eyes and the woman is awake again.

           “Where’s my baby?” she mumbles weakly, her eyes half open.

           “Is this your child right here, ma’am?” the nurse asks calmly. Bucky begins to feel a chill. He hadn’t noticed until now that he’s wet from head to toe. He’s on his knees clutching Theo, rocking to try and get him to stop crying, and pushing his flesh hand through Cherise’s hair, calling her name. She seems disoriented.

           “Sir, you’re damp. Let me take the baby. You’re going to need some attention, too…sir? May I have your boy—?” He remains completely focused on Cherise, begging her to wake up and look at him, tapping her cheek. He feels a pair of hands begin to encircle Theo.

“Don’t touch him!” Bucky barks immediately, hardly having heard the nurse speak at all.  The nurse jumps back and Bucky closes his eyes a moment. Someone drapes a blanket over his shoulders.

           “I—I’m sorry…Please help us,” he utters.

             He can’t look away from Christina, having finally managed to step away from a doctor after they realized he wasn’t in nearly as poor shape as his daughter. In fact, he was beginning to heal. Cherise is sitting by the bedside, holding Theo, his face hidden beneath a blanket as she nurses him. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of Christina, either. The parents keep watching to see that the girl is continuing to inhale and exhale.

           “Are you okay, babe?” Bucky asks. Had he not caught Cherise when she fainted, she’d probably be concussed. She takes a deep breath that she doesn’t let go of for several seconds.

Initially, she hadn’t looked beyond her peripheral vision at Bucky and had mistaken him for a doctor, as they had put him in a set of dry ceil scrubs, seeing as he had lost his shirt and gotten soaked in the whole incident.

           ‘Today was supposed to be…so much fun.”

           “I’m just glad you’re all okay,” Bucky explains, stepping inside and staring down at Christina. Her swelling has gone down significantly and she’s sleepy under sedation. She had started to fight the doctor when she tried to address the stings and had to be kept still. Christina didn’t enjoy being poked and prodded at, and both Bucky and Cherise knew it was necessary, but they didn’t like that it had come to this. The child was screaming for mom and dad, trying to get away, it had to be done. He gently caresses the top of Christina’s head, his eyes watering.

           “I should have been paying attention,” he says angrily, more to himself than anyone else, “I should have told her to stop running ahead—”

           “It’s not your fault, James,” Cherise says genuinely.

           “I’m supposed to protect her—I should’ve goddamn seen—”

           “You did protect her. And you couldn’t have stopped this from happening, James. She’s stable now. That’s all that matters. She’s lucky you saw that stream and got to her when you did.” He sighs, his arm whirring. Cherise gazes up at him, nodding his head in the negative, his eyes closed and his fist clenching at his side.

           “We’re not going hiking again,” he says with finality, looking over at Cherise. She knew he meant this. It wasn’t something they were going to have a conversation about.

           “It’s bad enough this happened to Stina…If you had stepped into that nest with Theo—” Bucky stares hard into space a moment, furious with himself. Cherise is merely relieved. Both their children are alive and okay. It could have been worse.

           “James.”

His arm continues to whir erratically.

           “…Bucky.”

He sighs and his shoulders finally drop as she utters his name again calmingly. If he hadn’t been there, Cherise isn’t sure she’d have known what to do. Her eyes water for a few seconds as Bucky gazes at her with such apology that it touches her soul. She starts to burp Theo, having pulled her shirt back down and removed the blanket. The baby boy is completely content, unaware that his sister nearly died just an hour or so prior. He makes his way over to Cherise and kneels in front of her, holding Theo’s socked foot.

           “Are you okay?” he asks again. Cherise nods. Theo coos, and the sound eases Bucky a bit more. He kisses her knee lingeringly, smooth from under her shorts. He breathes a sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was pack them all back into the car and take them home. He finds himself thankful that he thinks so fast. He had never been stung by wasps before, but knew exactly what to do. He glances at Christina again, her stung up face rather red. His heart lurches. If he had reached the child just a few seconds later, she might have swallowed a handful of the stinging bastards and died. He’s thankful, for once, to be fast and so strong. So unnaturally strong. He might have drowned with his daughter in that stream if it weren’t for his super strength. He only hopes that she makes as speedy a recovery as he already is. Though Cherise can tell how terrified he was, he doesn’t ever say it. She knew. He wouldn’t show her that.

           Christina moans. Her hand reaches for her face. She winces, and her little nose wrinkles until her whole face contorts into pain. Bucky is at her side immediately, holding her hands away from her face. He scoops her into his arms.

           “Don’t touch the stings, baby—you gotta let them heal,” he says sweetly, caressing the top of her head and repeatedly moving her hands away from where she reaches for the injuries.

           “Shhhh,” he breathes soothingly. Christina relaxes a bit as Cherise makes her way to the door with Theo in her arms, stating that she’s going to go get the nurse. Theo’s eyes catch Bucky’s on her way out the door and for a moment, he swears the infant smiles at him. For a moment, Bucky smiles himself. Though Christina is uncomfortable, he knows she’ll be okay. He thanks himself wholeheartedly, burying his nose in her hair. She still smells the way she did when she was born. Something sweet, something reminiscent of Cherise. A few tears escape Bucky’s closed eyes.

           “You’re okay, baby.”

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Ominous Hummmm

When you’re building fictional monsters, one of the time-honored techniques is to take something known on earth and make it more extreme. See parasitic wasps and Aliens, Charybdis as a personified whirlpool after you personally, and D&D owlbears, not to mention a variant I saw on Tumblr, the aperaven.

...Of the two I think you’d really rather deal with the owlbear. They’re big and tough, but owls aren’t the brightest bulbs the avian world has ever produced. Ravens? Among the most intelligent birds on the planet, and they actively enjoy messing with people. Combine that with ape strength - No, Just No.

(Fair warning: if your DM pulls out a chimparrot? Run. Think about it. Totally beyond the pure nasty of both species involved, both parts also love shiny things. Magical items are often shiny, and activated by command words....)

Hummingbirds are pretty extreme. The tiniest birds on the planet, with some of the most energy-intensive flight ever produced. Hovering is not easy, and when you’re that tiny, every fraction of an ounce of energy stored as fat is that much more weight you have to haul around.

Hummingbirds live on the edge. To the point several species fall into torpor on a nightly basis, letting their body temperature drop to that of their surroundings so they burn less energy through the night. If a human tried that we’d be dead in hours. We have to maintain a reasonably stable core temperature, or die.

Hummingbird? Shakes it off and flies off the next morning, probably cackling about puny mammals.

They fight to the extreme, too. Males have been known to stab each other through the eye dueling over females, good food flowers, you name it. The Aztecs thought they were reincarnated warriors; biologists who’ve gotten strafed trying to study them might agree. They are aggressive, at least to birds their own size; pecking and chasing off competitors for food even if they aren’t out to kill. Males particularly harass females away from food given the chance; so intensely, 20% of white-necked Jacobin females and all the juveniles dress up as males to avoid the hassle.

This is not common among birds. Most of the time female birds are the drab sex (true in Jacobins as well), and usually when that’s the case, juveniles of both sexes tend to have the feather patterns of females. Just try to identify a juvenile male warbler in North America. Just try.

White-necked Jacobin juveniles all come in bright male plumage; blue heads, white bellies, and all. To the point it took researchers some time to figure out which were the juveniles - and not until recently did they uncover that even some adult females keep the colors. Apparently that makes them less preferable as mates, but much more likely to avoid getting harassed. A trade-off that seems to be worth it enough for this be a stable percentage of adult females in the population.

...You can compare this to trying to get along in human society and see how it might be worth it.

So here’s an extreme critter. Would it make a good monster, scaled up or in swarms? I suspect so. Especially if you throw in some of the myths of them carrying fire!