#ignoring like the whole song these lines have been HAUNTING me

[kairenn-n]

He wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain

(x)

#okay LISTEN bear with me #ignoring like the whole song these lines have been HAUNTING me #pain as in destiny. pain as in changing tradition. pain as in bearing years of secrecy and sacrifice for him #am i making any sense #merlin #merthur

[rose-pearls]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky

I was reading something online about the song 'Bigger than the whole sky' from Taylor Swift, and people speculate that it is about a miscarriage. I started writing a story about it but I have never had a miscarriage before so if there is anything that is wrong or offensive please tell me and I will take this down.

Warnings: miscarriage, angst

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021 (open for every fandom)

The sun was shining, which was perhaps the biggest contradiction after what had just happened. 

He was trying to keep it together, he was, but the doctor’s words were still ringing in his head.

“There was a miscarriage. I’m sorry for your loss.”, the words had been cold like he had told them thousands of times and couldn’t feel them anymore. Like he couldn’t tell how much his words would hurt and haunt them.

She hadn’t said anything, she had just looked in the distance, like looking at the wall would give her some reassurances he couldn’t give her. 

He didn’t know how to help her, she seemed fine when you just looked at her, but he could see the pain in her eyes, the disbelief every time she rubbed her lower stomach where the baby had been, their baby.

He didn’t know how to react himself; he tries to stay strong for her, but it was getting harder and harder as he didn’t get an answer out of her. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t read her, help her as she was too far for him to save her from herself.

--

Everything was numb, like nothing had happened but something had happened.

She had lost their child, her body had given up and had made her lose the one thing that could perhaps save her marriage, save her. She felt empty, running her hand across her small bump that had started appearing two weeks ago.

There were no tears, she was numb ever since she felt the blood fall down her legs after her shower. 

They had rushed to the hospital, and they had quickly taken her into an emergency surgery. 

When she woke up, the baby was gone, and she was faced with the fact that she had miscarried. 

Maybe it was because she didn’t pray, maybe this was a punishment for every single wrong thing she had ever done in her entire life. Now she wished that her parents had taken her to church, maybe it would have saved her child. 

She knew that Jake was worried, he deserved better than this, but she couldn’t find it in herself to talk with him. The only thing running through her mind are the scenario’s she imagined throughout her four months of pregnancy, a little girl or boy running around with Jake in the garden. You could hear the laughter as you closed your eyes, but it faded away just as fast as it came.

“Why don’t we go take a walk? The nurse needs to clean the room.”, Jake says softly, and you want to tell him that you don’t want to, but in the end, you know that you don’t have a choice.

“Sure. Why don’t you go to the cafeteria, and I’ll join you there.”, he looks sad at your words, but you try to ignore it, instead focusing on counting how many steps you would have to take before you could come back.

The nurse comes in a few minutes later and you take a deep breath before leaving the room. The hallway is quiet and as you take the shortest route to the cafeteria you don’t realize where you are until you hear a little cry.

There is a nurse walking while holding a newborn, who is wrapped in a little blanquettes before being taken into the nursery.

The babies are all there, lined up in little cots their little eyes closed all bundled up in a small blanquette. 

You don’t even realize that you have taken a step forward, to see them better, or that your vision is blurry now. 

A little boy, you presume, yawns, and a tear falls down your cheek at the sight, your hand moving to your stomach. 

“Which one is yours?”, a voice asks behind you and you turn around, trying to blink the tears away.

“The – the baby isn’t there.”, you tell the woman who is looking at the babies with a tender smile.

“You?”, you manage to say, without your voice breaking over the words.

“Rosie, the little girl on the left.”, she says with a proud smile, and you know that she will be an excellent mother. The little Rosie is fast asleep, and she looks like she isn’t a week old.

“She is beautiful.”, the woman smiles kindly before her husband arrives and she leaves you with a goodbye, to which you don’t respond. 

--

He finds her there, tears sliding down her cheeks as she watches the babies in the nursery. He wants to slap himself for not thinking of that sooner but for the first time since the news she seems to be feeling something.

“Sweetheart?”, she turns around and he can see her trembling hand holding onto her stomach as if she is hoping that the baby will still be there.

He is just in time to catch her before she crashes on the floor, a sob leaving her lips as he holds her tightly.

Her sobs ricochet on the walls and he holds her tighter, only realizing that he is crying when he feels her hair getting wet. He sobs with her, holding her to his chest hoping that he could ever fill in the void that has been left. They hold each other in a deserted hallway, the nursery next to them, reminding them just of what they lost. 

“I’m sorry.”, she whispers, and Jake feels confused for a moment.

“I’m so sorry.”, she says before a sob leaves her lips and Jake feels sick at the apology, like it’s her fault. 

He moves slowly, and as her tearstained cheeks and red eyes look back at him, he takes her cheeks in his hands and look at her.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault, do you hear me? It. Is. Not. Your. fault.”, he says the words like the prayers he used to say in church, only this time he truly believed the words he told her. Tears leave her eyes and roll down her cheeks, but he rubs them away.

“Maybe I could have done something, do better.”, she whispers brokenly, and Jake feels his heart break at the words.

“You couldn’t have done anything. You did everything you could, you aren’t at fault.”, she closes her eyes and takes a deep shaky breath.

“You don’t hate me?”, she whispers, and Jake feels like someone had slapped him.

“I could never hate you sweetheart, god knows how much I love you. I love you more and more every day, through thick and thin I’m here by your side. I know that this is hard, that we will need time to recover from this, but it doesn’t have an effect on my love for you.”, she brings him closer, and Jake feels tears running down his cheeks, desperately hoping that he has gotten through her and that she knows just how much he loves her.

“Thank you.”, she whispers, and he holds her tightly, hoping that he never has to let her go.

“I don’t know what to do.”, she confesses after a moment and Jake lets out a shaky breath and he takes a look at the babies fast asleep in the nursery.

“Me neither but we are going to do this together. Day by day and step by step together. There will be hard days and good days, but we are in this together.”, she nods in answer, and he brings her into a hug, holding her close as he feels her tears on his shirt.

They stand there holding each other, watching the nurses walking around the nursery and the babies fast asleep. It would be hard, but they had each other and together they would get through this.

-

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye You were bigger than the whole sky You were more than just a short time And I've got a lot to pine about I've got a lot to live without I'm never gonna meet What could've been, would've been What should've been you

#top gun x reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine

[taylorrepdetective]

As a gaylor, I always felt Sweet Nothing was a sad song because the line “all that you ever wanted from me…” is past tense. I found it really interesting that she said publicly that she wrote it with Joe as if to make it sound so romantic when I’ve always viewed it as pretty melancholy. She’s a master with words and getting across the stories that she wants to, and it would have been so easy to write “all that you’ve ever wanted” and make it present tense, but she didn’t. I don’t have any strong opinions about behind the scenes things but I just wanted to say that I can see why hetlors are saying it’s actually sad when no longer believing T & J are in love, I guess

Yes! You can believe this. It’s fine to have this sort of interpretation of any Taylor song. Take one word or tone or twist (in this case it feels past tense) and adjust its meaning away from the most obvious. She does this and we shouldn’t ignore it. So I am fully supportive of you having this interpretation. It’s not my interpretation. But that’s fine!

But more of what I’ve been talking about (and have talked about for years):

She writes songs that almost always have some sort of sad, “haunting” quality about them. But you also have to look at it in complete context. You can’t see evermore as the saddest breakup album of all time and just ignore the existence of Long Story Short and the last verse of Evermore. You can’t only see Maroon and ignore Mastermind and Paris. You shouldn’t ignore all the other context clues we get from her in her performances and videos, interviews, dates she does things, and merch etc… It’s hard to figure her out because she makes it hard. But she does seem to like to give clues that can be obvious but also gives her plausible deniability.

But it’s specifically the blanket retconning that gets me. One day an album comes out and people who believe she’s in a happy long term relationship interpret songs as straightforward happy songs (Lover, Peace, there are so many), while ignoring a song that is devastating like DBATC, Exile or Hoax, or Happiness, and just attribute them to fiction or about a friend or about the distant past or about her masters, but then later when they decide that she wasn’t in such a happy long term relationship like they thought, then they take that inherent sadness and haunting quality and turn it the whole thing into a breakup album, ignoring the fact that she can be singing about fiction or about a friend or about the distant past or about her masters.

The songs haven’t changed, only their perspective changed. I see it over and over and over again. And when this happens over and over and over again, maybe people should take a step back and think A) well maybe all of her love songs have this haunting quality because of a deep basic reason about the situation she finds herself in that no matter how solid a relationship might be, there’s always this THING hanging over it that won’t allow her to just be happy. That thing might be crippling depression, it might be trauma, being in an incredibly complicated situation, it might be fame, she might be gay, or you know ALL OF THE ABOVE. But it doesn’t mean that she’s not basically happy with the muse of that song. Especially in private like described in Sweet Nothing. B) sometimes she writes a song about a devastating moment but it doesn’t mean it’s the end of a relationship moment. C) sometimes she makes a song that’s about something completely unrelatable to a normal person, and she changes it to be about something that is relatable because her job is to sell records. And D) maybe we don’t know everything about her private life and aren’t good at figuring it out through her lyrics because she doesn’t want us to know everything, and so we should approach things using words like “maybe, I think, I could be wrong, here are a few possibilities, who knows?” Etc etc etc instead making our account’s entire personality about being an expert on Taylor swift’s life like you have been there in the room with her during it all.

When I say this I am thinking of a few different specific blogs and TikToks, mostly on the Toe side of the spectrum, but we see it on the gaylor side just as much. I am guilty of it sometimes too (more so in the past I think, but you know I do have strong opinions too and sometimes I unequivocally state them.)

All that being said, I have chosen to take the most straightforward interpretation of Sweet Nothing. It’s about her private home life being an oasis from the craziness of her life outside and one of the best things about her lover is that they don’t want anything from her other than her. It’s “you like me for me” expanded out. I interpret it as she just really really values this “normalness” she gets at home, and that normalness really is something only the muse of this song has been able to give her. And as always, home doesn’t have to be a physical place. And, luckily for us, because it’s from the album midnights that she said is about different midnights throughout life, you can choose to make this scene be happening at any time when she was happy with her lover. It doesn’t need to be the way things were at the moment she sat down to write it. It doesn’t have to be turned into some sort of sad song about the process of breaking up because you believe she broke up with the subject. This is why her writing ever since she sat down to write DBATC, and explained it to us,is so much more interesting to me. She very specifically told us with that song (the last known song written for lover) that she was going to be writing things that can be seen as hypotheticals in the future so we’d better get used to it! Folklore!!! That’s why it’s my pinned post.

#Choose your own adventure. I used to love those books as a kid. #I dedcided to post this even though I know people are going to take it out of context. it’s kind of meta really #I’m rambling again

[chemicalarospec]

My Death Note Playlists (prt 1 of my fav lyrics)

They're basically all "emo" btw.

I have two: the full playlist

and the "canon compliant" version -- which does NOT mean the songs support a canon-compliant interpretation, but that they were released before 2010. Canon timeline, you see, ignoring the 9/11 thing. (I'm a little more picky with this one in general.)

Okay now I'm just going to highlight my favorite lyrics that I blorbo brain all over (predominantly Light, and lots of Lawlight ranging from platonic murder to romantic lovers to romantic murder). It will be long, so here's a cut!

I'll pick out songs going down "full playlist" in order.

"Liar (It Takes One to Know One)" by Taking Back Sunday

Obvious, but "we're all choir boys at best" deserves attention. "It takes one to know one" shouted at the end -- all of Light and L knowing each other better than anyone.

"Juneau" by Funeral for a Friend

"I'm nothing more than a line in your book." Hey, I didn't say all these connections were good.

"Spin" by Taking Back Sunday

The whole thing is very Light to L.

"Looking for a Tornado" by Chiodos

Maybe I got a little lost while searching for my faith stuck to your cross You set fire to everything around [...] Do I believe in love; do I believe in heaven? (At the sound of church bells, they come running) All my clocks stuck on eleven; afraid if I hit my knees, I might get nothing

^ Lawlight /romantic intent /sexual intent

This is the sound of your savior running in need of anything to save you from nothing

^ bonus God/savior complex Light

"Always and Never" by Silverstein - "Don't have a heart attack"

"War Crimes" by Waterparks

kinda Light and Misa. "I wear a smile that's about a mile wide" lol. and "My death will be the fandom [sic]" for L.

"The Words 'Best Friend' Become Redefined" by Chiodos

The title as their fake-friendship-with-murderous-intent. Lyrics as romantic dying Lawlight. +"To hide from our twisted ways/I've been hiding in this bed"

"Fist Wrapped in Blood" by Silverstein

I love toxic couples. Cannibalism couples. Violence couples. (Some tntduo vibes in this one too, xoxo tntduo, still kinda my OTP.) "A Midwestern State Of Emergency" for similar reasons (we got the wild line "Bound and gagged but I enjoy it") + "Your saving grace, my final rites"

"One Day All Women Will Become Monsters" by Chiodos <3

That title but also "Always being the blind villain" -> Blind Lady Justice Light Yagami!!! + "Rip the haunting smirk from his face"

"Thank You for the Venom" by My Chemical Romance

Now I want to listen to Three Cheers looking for Death Note songs. (If I wasn't still finishing tntduo demolition lovers, Death Note demolition lovers would be sooo in.) Anyways: "I keep a gun on the book you gave me."

"Hard to Breathe" by Hawthorne Heights

"I spent my whole life lying/I just got caught." This one gets a big heading b/c that line is still the working title for my Light fic (yeah, it'll get posted. one day).

"There's no Penguins in Alaska" by Chiodos is a rare Misa moment on the playlist.

"Timberwolves at New Jersey" by Taking Back Sunday

"Literate and stylish/kissable and quiet/that's what girls' dreams are made of" and "This is you trying hard to make sure that you're seen/With a girl on your arm and your heart on your sleeve" = Light. Plus, the "me at my worst (committing murder)" theme of second half of the song

"Where Can I Stab Myself in the Ears" by Hawthorn Heights - "This is the ending, here's my surrender" & the complementing each other bridge theme. and lying.

"Why the Munsters Matter" by Chiodos

"I don't want to fit into your world/your heart/I hope I scare you"!!!!! It's NOT what happens in Death Note but it IS what Light and L are about IN MY HEAD.

"Ole Fishlips is Dead Now" is another rare Misa song. The "she's in love with herself" line but the subject is Light.

"Goldmine" by Paper Tigers

(link leads to song b/c the band is pretty indie)

Maybe that's something I admire Maybe you've made another enemy of me ... You goldmine Every little thing that you say It blows away my mind ... They say that pride proceeds the fall And that the sword is weaker than the pen

rare L to Light song on the playlist

"Your Sword Versus My Dagger" by Silverstein

Another Discovering the Waterfront track. "I'm cutting through, you're bleeding out/And I would tell the truth, but I can't help myself" + "I wasn't asking for the world" as another Light inverse/lying line (or kinda Misa) + "And I can see your face, and I can hear your name" in reference to Death Note rules lol.

"Is it Progression If A Cannibal Uses A Fork?" by Chiodos

"Listen up, sweetie!/We all know that you're a beautiful girl in this horrible world." - Light lol

"The solemn tolling of the funeral bells. I want to know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours where everyday's a Bone Palace Ballet."

"Divine Intervention" by Taking Back Sunday

rare soft song -- cutesy by Lawlight standards

Despondent, distracted You're vicious and romantic These are a few of my favorite things ... Something real, make it timeless An act of God and nothing less will be accepted ... We're stubborn and melodramatic A real class act

~a little skipping ahead to songs I wrote up out of order... part two will probably come next week!~

"The Brothers Karamazov" by The Used

all of it. but especially "I'm more than just my father's son" as an inverse of Light who is so little more than the son of a cop, "I see myself in everything I hate about you/I shut my mouth to stop myself from sounding like you" as him and L, and "Take me away from who I could become" as the conflict between Light and the influence of the Death Note.

"Chemicals" by Armor for Sleep

Lyrics about "you" dying ("I can picture your coffin"!!!) and the general vibe and:

And I’m on my back, on your floor. Tell me how you fooled the world again, I like how you laugh when you tell it

^ both L and Misa work. Light's evil laugh.

Play dead, cause I’ll be playing dead with you. I’ll play you when you’re dead in a year or two.

^ Light pretending to be L after he's dead.

"Three Simple Words" by Finch

"My hand's around your throat/who will stop me now?" !!! throwback to "Until the Day I Die", which I didn't highlight but also has "hands at your throat". I like the aggressive & repetitive usage in this song better. Light to L, of course.

Tune in next week for more of the same! (btw I had a lot going on so it's still not up but will edit this when I do it)

#death note #light yagami #lawlight #light death note #lawlight songs #yagami light #chem's death note arc #I said this #music #playlist #this is almost half the playlist and i'm pleased with how short i've gotten the post to be hehe #made the tough descision to take off Call it Karma #just didn't have strong enough vibes at the end of the day.

[basmathgirl]

Hi Basmathgirl!

No socks anon here. Sorry for my delayed answer. It took me a while to finally “force” myself to watch S4/E13. 😭

Thank you so much for your kind reply and the recommendations. Just finished “Best Laid Schemes”. And you were right, I very much enjoyed the entire story. I’m so used to rely on AO3 for fics, that I forgot that there are other/ older sources out there as well.

Like I said, I finally watched episode 13 of season 4. And I’m glad I knew beforehand what to expect. I mean I cried anyway, but if I had watched it without any warning, I would have been a mess afterwards. However as sad as the ending was, I truly enjoyed Donna’s part in the story. Plus the way they ended her story line, gave us all a great starting point for many brilliant fix-it fics. Of course I’m aware of Catherine and David’s return for the 2023 DW special at the ending of last year, so I’m super curious to see what will happen there. Kinda want to watch it immediately. Can I watch it immediately, or would I be completely lost?

Episode 13 included a scene, which confused me a little bit and I hope it is okay to ask for clarification, even though the question involves Rose.

When the Doctor started the alleged regeneration process, Rose cried she didn’t want him to leave her (paraphrasing here). However I always thought when the Doctor regenerates it is just his body, that changes, he still would be the same person (same memories, feelings, personality)? So she wouldn’t literally lose him, he would just change appearances. But maybe I’m wrong and I didn’t understand the regeneration concept correctly? Anyway I was a bit annoyed with her (as usual in my case), because my conclusion after witnessing her reaction was, that for Rose the outward appearance, at least when it comes to the Doctor, is the essential part of her attraction to him.??? Idk, it just irked me in some way.

(And as a side note: It’s kinda funny to me, that they gave Rose the “knock-off Doctor version”.😅

Although while watching episode 13, a part of me theorised for a while, if the Metacrisis Doctor will stay with Donna. But that would have been strange as well, I guess…)

I still have to watch the rest of season 4 though. I’m kinda putting it off again, because I know it is the end for David’s run.😢 Plus I read multiple times now, that the quality of the show will drop for a few seasons. Most people seem to agree that season 9 is the point when it gets better again. (What do you think?) So I’m somewhat cautious when it comes to season 5 and the introduction of a new Doctor.

And I wanted to let you know, that I found more blogs that share my thoughts on River Song, although for the most part they dislike her, because they are of the opinion that Rose should be the one who marries the Doctor. 🙄 I don’t actively hate Rose, for me she is just an annoying part of the show, I try to ignore.

...

I think in the end I’m just sad, that we didn’t get more seasons (at least 3...or 5 or….) of the Doctor Donna duo.

Thanks again for replying and I wish you a nice weekend.☺️

Hellon kind 'no sock' Anon! Good title although I'm worried you don't actually have any socks now...

No problem about any delay, because I've had to take my time to get here to answer you, thanks to a painful week full of migraines. *shrugs* Life just happens liek that sometimes.

Anyway. Yay that you liked the fic! I actually first started reading fanfiction on fanfiction.net; then went to Teaspoon [aka whofic.com], and from author bios on there, moved over to LiveJournal. Stumbling upon the Doctor/Donna com felt like finding a major treasure. So hopefully you'll give those older sources (and their older fics) a go.

Oooh, you have my sympathies about finding Journey's End (episode 13) an emotional event. 🫂It haunted me for ages. As for Rose, I'd always seen their relationship as "teacher-pupil" (and more "parent-child" when she was with the Ninth Doctor) so the whole "luuuuuurve" plotline shook me to the core; so you will have to forgive me for not believing in the Doctor/Rose romance. But she obviously fancied him and his duplicate like crazy - Rose!shippers have posted screenshots of her in that episode ogling the Metacrisis Doctor. It's such a fleeting moment I've never been able to catch it. The point is that many of them acknowledge Rose's flaws and love her anyway. That's true love.

Back to your question; Rose seemed to feel she was owed her prize of the Doctor after crossing dimensions and realities to find him. It must have been an awful lot of work to persuade Pete's World's Torchwood to provide the technology and technicians. Whether we think she should have done, despite being warned by the Doctor that to do so would destroy everything, is another matter. I saw her "You can't" outburst as indignation that she wouldn't get want she had strived so long for. It probably also means "I love THIS you and I don't want you to change"; and Rose often has her immature/selfish moments. Your typical 'only child' selfishness, when you think about it. All this is up for debate, and I might be completely wrong but I was going by the 20 year olds I knew, where everything is strong emotions and continual questions about yourself in the world.

Giving away another highly sentient being as her prize wil always be bizzare to me. If we had seen the Metacrisis Doctor give consent, or them talking it over, I'd have felt better about it. Otherwise, he's virtually handed over as a sex toy her pet human/hamster.

After that, we get the S4 specials. I've never rushed back to watch them again, to be honest. The Next Doctor is almost a Doctor/Rose Victorian AU; I detested Lady Christina in planet of the Dead, but loved Dr Malcolm Taylor (he gets a reference in The Giggle novelisation) and DI McMillan; The Waters of Mars was good and scary, so I recommend that one; and Catherine Tate was seriously underused (as were most of the guest actors) in End of Time. But that's worth watching for the interactions between the Doctor and Wilf. Honestly, seek those bits out. We won't mention that godawful wedding outfit they give Donna, because seriously, whoever decided she should have been put in that look needs shooting. They certainly went for 'ugly as possible'.

As for the 60th anniversary episodes, I'd say go ahead and watch them anyway. There are references to old companions (as you'd expect), a nod towards the last episodes of the Thirteenth Doctor, but you won't miss anything too drastic. The stories play out like any other Doctor Who episode, where you gradually catch up on the plot as you go. And there are loads of great bits.

Hmm. I was so ready to love series 5 and adore Amy. Well, I adored Amelia; the adult Amy was slightly worrying. Why did Moffat choose that job/outfit for her? WHY? Let's just that we weren't impressed by the acting choices. Then again, you might end up absolutely loving Amy - I know many do - but she leaves me cold so don't expect me to join that gang.

I had to double check what happened in series 9 because I'd forgotten *kicks migraines* and can say that's quite a good series. Missy was a great addition, plus Clara had rather outstayed her welcome by the time we reached this series, so I personally wasn't sad to see her go. The Christmas special, The Husbands of River Song, introduced us to the delightful Nardole, and I finally agreed that Doctor/River was plausible. Twelve and River were a pretty good combination, I thought.

Congrats on finding blogs to follow! Hopefully, you will gain loads of new friends along the way. 😊

I too wish we had had more series with Donna as the Doctor's companion; and CT did consider it, on the basis that if DT stayed, so would she. But it was not to be. However, they always say to leave them wanting more, so that certainly worked. I was gagging for thr 60th anniversay specials, and was not left disappointed this time.

It's always lovely to talk to you, despite the interruptions whilst trying to type this out (we had a sudden visitation from my grandsons to enjoy). I hope you have a wonderful weekend too! 😘

#kind Anon #lovely chat #ooh lots to consider #and think over

[yourslytherinprincess]

:Speak Now: - Draco Malfoy x F!Reader

A/N: This was a song fic request for Taylor Swift’s Speak Now.

Summery: Draco is getting married but not to you.

Word Count: 1481

The beating of your heart in your chest sped up to a rather painful speed at his words. Words that made you wish that your heart would just stop all together. The look on his face told you that at the very least, he was being honest with you, whether you, nor him liked it at all.

“Y/N, please don’t look at me that way, there is nothing I can do. The wedding is two months away.” How was he so calm about all of this? He should have at least been acting much more upset by this.

You reached for his arms, holding onto him as if he would disappear, slip between your fingers at any moment. “Tell me that you love me, please. I know that you do. Just say it, hear the words come from your own mouth.” You pleaded with him. “Draco, please.”

He reached up to take your face into his hands, your own falling away from him as he placed a gentle kiss on your brow. “Of course, I love you, I- I always have.” He moved his gaze down to your eyes. “My parents arranged the whole thing and there is nothing left for me to do.”

“Can’t you fight for me? Tell them how you feel?” You were on the verge of begging.

Draco shook his head, lightly brushing his right thumb over your cheekbone. “I have, my love. Since they first propositioned me with the wedding. They didn’t care that I don’t want to be with her, they only care that it’ll be good for our names, good for our families. She’s a pureblood, part of the sacred 28.”

The corner of your eyes were prickling as you fought the tears. “Don’t do this to me, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He looked away from you, before letting his hands fall to his sides. “I’m sorry my darling, but I don’t have a choice.”

 You could have laughed at the thought of attending the Malfoy wedding when the all too formal invitation came in the mail. You however never imagined that you’d actually go. But there you were, walking up the steps of Malfoy Manner in a black “A” line, off the shoulder dress, the skirt stopping just above your knee, lace covering the top, with a bow accessorizing your waist. You had your hair curled into a bun, with a hair-braid headband, and your bangs curled, shaping your face.

This was the very last place that you wanted to be, but it was your last chance to see him, and though you had not said a single thing to Draco over the past two months, you wanted a chance to at least say good bye. Listening in on the conversations of the people around who were mostly ignoring you, you find out that Draco is upstairs in his bedroom, getting ready for his big day.

Fortunately, Malfoy Manner was exactly as Draco had explained it several times though his childhood stories, and after checking to make sure that there is no one watching you, you snuck off into that direction with ease.

Finding his bedroom door, you rap your knuckles gently against the wood. “Oh, bloody hell.” Draco said, as he pulled the door open, “Mother I’m- Y/N?”

He looked ever so handsome in his dress robes, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, until he grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you into his bedroom, quickly closing the door behind him. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

Red warmth crept up the back of your neck, settling in your cheeks. “I got an invitation, I wasn’t going to come but I… I just wanted to say goodbye.” The words stung on your tongue as they slipped carefully from between your lips.

Draco said nothing at first, only looking over you, a haunted look in his grey eyes. “Merlin, you are as beautiful as I have ever seen you.”

Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you turn away from him, focusing on the guests out on the lawn through his bedroom window. You recognize several of them as his friends from school, and assume that the others were his bride-to-be’s relatives.

“I’m only here to say goodbye.” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than him. “I didn’t come to…”

You could imagine him nodding behind you. “I know, you’re not the type of girl that would try to come and steal me away.”

Letting out a sigh, you turn to look at him again. “And I never thought you’d be the guy that marries the wrong girl, just because his parents tell him too. What do I know?” You go to storm past him, but Draco reaches for your hand pulling you to a stop.

“This isn’t anything like what I thought it would be. I want you to know that I’ve always thought that it would have been you. I always wanted it to be, and I always will.”

Pulling your hand from his, you look down at the black stilettos covering your feet. “I’ve got to go, but I hope that you find your happy.”

“I already have.” He said, looking at you.

 Inside the lavishly decorated ballroom, you find an empty chair on the groom’s side and sit down, waiting the minutes by as everything is sorted and the groomsmen start to line up. Draco’s mum walks over to him, fussing over his hair until he pulls away from her. You can see her pat his arm before taking the seat in the front row next to her husband.

Draco’s eyes drift over the many guests stopping at you, his eyes telling you something that you don’t quite understand. The last things he said running through your head.

What the hell were you doing? You couldn’t just let him get married to someone else! Not without trying to win him back, one more time, at least.

Just as you braced yourself to stand, the wedding march started to play. Everyone around you stood and turned to look back at the door. The line of bridesmaids entered the room, one by one, forming a line, Pansy entering last, looking absolutely breathtaking in the big white gown. How were you ever going to compete with that?

She made it to the front of the room, Draco removed the veil that covered her face, and she took his arm as they turned to face the wizard that looked out on the room.

The entire room was silent as the man at the front of the room spoke.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Draco Lucius Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in matrimony-”

Chewing on your lip you waited patiently, you didn’t know what you would do if you missed it. Each word the Wizard spoke gnawing at your soul.

‘You can do this.’ You kept saying to yourself.

“If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now-”

You stood up, “Stop!” You yelled out, hands shaking at your sides as everyone in the room turned to look at you.

Pansy looked from a smiling Draco to you, and back to Draco. “What is she doing?” She hissed at him. You moved out to the center aisle, not taking your eyes from the man at the end of that was beaming back at you.

“I told myself that I didn’t come here to do this, but honestly who was I kidding? I’m going to ask you one more time, and if you say no I’ll leave in peace and you’ll never see me again.”

“THEN GO!” Pansy called out. You could see Lucius talking to two other men, and they made their way towards you.

As they reached out for you Draco spoke up. “Wait, don’t touch her. I want to hear what she says.”

Draco’s mother stepped out, “Draco, we need to get on with this.”

“Oh, mother please. Just let the girl talk.” He turned to look at you again, his smile growing. “Go on, Y/N. Ask me.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Draco, please don’t marry her. You don’t belong with her, she’s the wrong girl for you. Run away with me?”

He ran down the isle towards you, scooping you up into a hug, and spinning you in circles. When he set you down, Draco grabbed your face, pulling you into a kiss in front of everyone. The room around you filled with angry murmurs but neither of you seemed to care. When he pulled away from you, that beautiful smile still on his face, he reached for your hand and you both ran away from the wedding and the guests, as several people called to him, and towards your happiness together.        

#Draco Malfoy x Reader #Draco x Reader #Draco Malfoy imagine #YourSlytherinPrincess #YSP

[hope-urok]

haunted

240317

i notice it is more prominent when i see you. when i don't see you much it still lingers. is that normal?

i don't know if it's because i feel so bad and guilty that it's haunting me. isn't it so dumb that i'm the one that broke it off and then when we tried again i started dating 3 months after? or maybe i'm just living my life? i can't hold myself against getting into a relationship because we weren't in touch. yes we said waiting but we did also say to keep in touch and it didn't happen. this was so long ago and i'm still thinking about it. i can't help these feelings but surely i can identify what sort of feelings at this point but i really don't know.

is it the lack of closure? because we barely talk i barely know anything about his life at the moment? and i want to be friends again, do i? it's not been like this with anyone else. we're better now but i'm still having the same thoughts.

it's so hard for me to act normal around him. this has been our normal for the past few years. it's a cycle. it's a whole 8 seasons. i liked him early on in our friendship when we first met. but he had a gf. after they broke up, i tried to go for it, we went to ball, i was too forward. i got into a relationship. few years later, he starts to have feelings for me and we start dating soon after i got out of that relationship. he moves down to hastings. it doesn't work. we break up. the next year we have camp, i visit him, things reignite but doesn't continue when i go back home. since then it's been business conversations, awkwardness and ignoring.

what im tryna say is we have not acted like proper friends since before we started dating. even then it was a bit confusing. even then I couldn't talk to him much without feeling things. i remember wanting to distance myself because of my feelings. and now it's the same thing.

for whatever reason, it is a lot of effort, not natural, anxiety-inducing to try talk to you or make a conversation. it's easier when it's about youth. but when I see you I go blank. my brain doesn't work. and yes, it probably is because of our history and I'm nervous to talk to you. not that i still have feelings right? i barely know you now. how can i say i still like you.

to be frank... i miss you. i am jealous of people who can talk to you casually and normally. i want to be one of your closest friends again. i want to know what goes on in your life on a regular basis. but, if you are seeing someone, I don't want to know. at this stage, I could not attend your wedding. there's also the fact that you were in aus during valentines so that's a big tell imo. we'll see how we are in a few years, hopefully, I can get to a place where we can have a pure friendship and I'll be happy for you when you do date or enter the seminary haha.

i do have a feeling that a conversation over coffee would fix this. i guess I'm not mature enough right now. some day. is it pride? a part of me feels it would be selfish to ask to talk if it's just to say I'm sorry and talk things out. it's also been so so long...

there are indicators that i still have feelings. did i not truly heal? the regular dreams i have of you have to stop. every song along the lines of 'the one that got away' hurts. and there must be a reason that love, rosie and the hows of us are my comfort movies. these all feed my delusions.

i never thought that when we separated that we weren't meant to be. i always thought we'd come back to each other. but we're intertwined in each other's lives so much lately and things are still weird so i don't know what that means.

i have to remind myself that i am making this really dramatic in my head. it's probably not that deep. i always say time will tell but shouldn't it be my turn? i don't know if i'll ever be ready for that, i reckon i need to push myself one day. one day....

in the mean time, working on myself sounds really good. i need to prioritise that more. more good habits!

[jangofctts]

As You Are (Bucky Barnes x fem!reader)

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.4k

Warnings: smut, explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence and injuries, light choking, brief thigh riding/grinding, vaginal fingering with them metal fingies, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (dont be a dick, wrap that stick), fucking on sam’s couch

a/n: ok hi this fic is very self indulgent bUT YKNOW WHAT WHO CARES EKJHEJHKEJH this is my first fic for marvel and AH I hope I did Bucky justice. ENJOY YALL

This had been a terrible idea. 

Right from the minute you tailed after he and Sam to the Baron’s extensive vintage car storage. Bucky had explicitly withheld any and all information regarding this little excursion to protect you but of course you’d shown up—none too jazzed about the little stunt Bucky pulled regarding the Baron. Fair. 

You were right—Bucky should have called but that overwhelming guilt of dragging you into another one of his problems stopped him from pressing that little call button. He never wanted to be the reason you ended up back on the run again. Though judging by the way things were going, it was more than likely you’d be in prison by the end of the week. 

Luck had your back in that sort of regard—too bad it could never rescue you from your own stubbornness and grief regarding that damn shield. 

You’d taken a devastatingly hard hit from Walker—a fractured orbital, a split lip and a dislocated shoulder. All preventable—if only Bucky kept better track of you before you showed up in that warehouse alone. Left to fight the shadow of what was once a symbol of hope for some—another man playing dress-up in something that will never belong to him. 

It was just their luck Bucky and Sam arrived in time—preventing you from becoming another red stain of violence splattered over that shield. 

James Buchanan Barnes is not afraid of much—but fuck. Seeing you crumpled over the concrete floor, all bloodied and struggling to raise a hand to protect your face… It was the same feeling as injecting his veins with a pure shot of adrenaline and anger shrouded in fear. He promised Steve he’d look after you… 

And as Sam carried you out of that warehouse you had the gall to tenderly tell them that you were just fine—as if your mouth weren’t full of blood and a face blooming with patchy bruises. The jealousy that sparked through Bucky’s chest when you clung to Sam’s chest did nothing to help that dark festering pit inside his ribcage he’s attempting to suture back together.

Bucky clenches his jaw. At least you’re asleep now. Curled up against the window, holding your injured arm in a way that limited the turbulence from jostling it. It’s the first time Bucky would describe you as fragile. He know’s you’re anything but that—stubborn mostly—yet most of all brave. It’s what Steve admired most about you—what Bucky loves most about you too. That vibrant spark flowing through your blood and how you’re not afraid to shout along to your favorite songs despite the odd looks you get. Bucky envies how self-assured you are, how you’ll never lose yourself because you know just where you’re headed. He wishes he still had that sort of drive instead of all this uncertainty and guilt clouding each muscle and fibre in his body.      

Bucky doesn’t realize the jet has landed until Sam stands and and places a large hand over your shoulder. Your face scrunches as you whine and curl further into your seat. “C’mon, kiddo.” You grumble something inaudible. “You want me to carry you?”

The delicate plates of vibranium clink together as Bucky’s hand tightens into a fist, jealousy flaring hot and bright. He quickly stands, too fast to be considering anything less than awkward. Sam’s brow quirks. “I can do it.”   

“It’s cool, man,” Sam says as he scoops one arm under your legs and the other around your back. “I got her.”

Bucky bristles. Whatever. 

It’s not like you and him have anything together. A one sided plague of affection that you’ll never know about—he wants to tell you. Fuck, the words burn through his tongue and collect like ashes between his teeth and yet they are never voiced from self sabotage. There’s no possible way to voice how you’ve haunted his thoughts and his dream since the moment his eyes met yours. How he’s memorized the lines of your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. Bucky would know you deaf, blind, numb, in this world or any other twisted reality. 

He had said that he wasn’t afraid of much, but that’s not entirely true. Eternity, oblivion, crowded rooms, being alone too long. And you. You terrify him. You have the power to pluck at the very strings of his soul and unravel him completely until he’s no more—and you don’t even know it. Bucky Barnes is less afraid of dying than he is of loosing you but that fear never once provides him the courage to tell you. You may not be a scribbled name in his book, but he still hopes that one day he’ll earn the chance to strike his cowardice and put to rest the wretched ache in his heart that he feels for you. 

He wishes he told you in Wakanda, after the Blip, Riga, and right this instant. He watches Sam carry you out of the jet—what’s a little more time?

                          -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The sun is beginning to melt into the horizon, turning the expanse of water into molten gold and shimmering blues. The hazy humidity from the late afternoon heat collects at the back of Bucky’s neck and the light breeze does nothing to cool. Bucky sighs and swipes at the bead of sweat creeping down his forehead with the back of his hand—he glances up. 

A ghost of a smile creeps across his lips. You’re exactly where he and Sam left you three hours ago. Surprising to be quite honest—you never did like to stay in one place for longer than ten minutes. You’re a pain in his ass, simply said.  

But now—now you’re haphazardly splayed out on the lawn chair you were forced into, a juice box loosely held in your good hand while the other still remains in the sling. He can’t tell if you’re asleep—Steve’s sunglasses do an excellent job of hiding your eyes. Yet as Bucky wanders closer, your head rolls to your right in greeting. 

“It’s rude to stare, y’know,” you grumble, lifting the juice box to your mouth. Your lips purse around the plastic straw. “And before you ask—yes, I have a very important job I’m currently overseeing.”

Bucky quirks a brow. “What—hogging the lawn chair?”

“No—“ You huff. You gesture with your juice box at the large cooler your sandaled feet are propped up on. “I’m the booze master. God of the ale, destroyer of sobriety—“

“Alright, Booze Master,” Bucky interrupts with a snort. “Why don’t you bestow upon me a beer, your majesty.”

You tap your index finger over your chin as a lazy smile fixes itself over your lips. “Granted.”

You slide your legs off the cooler and with a pained grunt you shift forward. Bucky shoots his arm out and steadies you back against the chair by your shoulder before you get any further. Your face pulls into a grimace.

“I got it, kid. Relax.”

Bucky pops open the cooler and fishes out a beer and pops the cap off between his left index finger and thumb. You watch with a frown, “I could’ve done that for you.” 

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes and takes a seat on the cooler. The bitter fizz floods his tastebuds as he takes a sip of his drink, a tangible silence blanketing the space between you. He gets it—people like he and you can never settle for complacency. As if the rest isn’t deserved despite the bloody knuckles and the shattered glass that slices through skin—the bruises and the broken bones. None of it is enough—not worthwhile to preserve yourself when other’s so desperately need your help. 

Or maybe it’s penance. 

Bucky sure as shit finds himself swallowed by the black maw of guilt each and every day. Battling the never ending shadow of doubt that clings to his soul like glitter to a an old carpet. Bucky believes it’s safe to say that you’re the same—every good deed you do added to the imaginary scale weighing against the bad despite it feeling hollow and insurmountable. Paying in blood to equate the amount you’ve spilled. A hopeless battle you both insist on fighting. 

Bucky sighs through his nose, bends at the waist and collects both your ankles in his left hand. You let him lift them both and settle your legs over his knees. You shiver, an eruption of goosebumps rushing up your skin at the cold metallic shock of Bucky’s vibranium thumb scrapinh over your bare flesh.

Bucky’s lips tilt down ever so slightly. “Did I hurt you?”

“Never,” you rush to say before he has the chance to flee. “S’just cold.” 

His hum reverberates low in his chest as those cerulean blue eyes fall to his hands. You clench your jaw until your teeth ache as his left thumb continues to stroke over the delicate skin covering the joint of your ankle. This is…new…

You’d been close with Steve and Sam, and by proxy Bucky—in some weird adjunct way. Compared to Sam’s teasing bumps of the shoulder and that infectious laugh far more addicting than the golden liquor of the sun, Bucky is frigid. Still attempting to shake off the whole Winter Soldier thing that’s molded onto his bones like stubborn permafrost. Touch had always been tricky with him—even a friendly pat over the back or a simple tap to the harm had him tensing under the touch—muscle and steel bunching to prepare for a harsh blow that would never arrive. Never from you.         

Bucky rarely sought out your physical comfort—you were always the one to initiate those friendly touches even if he was the type to just sit and ignore you like a grouchy old cat barely clinging onto that ninth life. The first time he breached that fragile barrier was in Wakanda—something in Bucky cracked and split into a cavernous ravine of nebulosity. Stitches shred apart then stapled back together as he grabbed your arm and wrestled you into a bone-crushing hug. You didn’t need to ask to realize he cried the entire time, gripping your shirt like a lifeline while he shuddered and sobbed into the crook of your neck. To him everything from the rain to silk sheets felt like shrapnel and the stars tasted like old blood and the past of things long gone—yet you were familiar. 

A comfort for the much needed healing of the scattered pieces of a man. You don’t mind helping him pick up the tidbits and reattach them with veins of silver. It’s the least you can do. 

The second time occurred after the loss of Steve. Some part of you had been wrenched out with his departure and he never bothered to return it. It doesn’t matter anymore—the hollow ache had been soothed with the Winter Soldier clutching you to his chest until you drifted off into a fitful sleep. A tether to a new reality you both partake in. 

Which brings you to now. There’s no cathartic reasoning behind his touch…it’s simple…a risky leap of faith into unknown territory. Bucky’s eyes lift to meet yours—curiosity swimming in those icy irises. You don’t mind—in fact you quite like the calloused warmth of his hand and the opposing chilly metal one tentatively exploring your exposed skin. 

“You have a scar here,” Bucky murmurs, skimming the thumb made up of flesh and sinew over the mottled skin occupying the crease of where the top of your foot meets your ankle. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I fell on barbed wire.”

“Clumsy,” he chides, quirking a dark brow. 

Your shoulders bounce with a huff. “I was like—twelve when it happened, James.”

His mouth quirks in a half smile, quite liking the validation of his name in the way your mouth speaks it. He wonders if you know the weight of granting you that leeway of calling him that. Shit—he doesn’t care what you call him, everything sounds lovely when you say it. 

There’s another silence—holding your breath until something splits and shatters into a million pieces. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want anything more than just friendship with Bucky but fear of rejection is a tricky thing. You take the easy way out and offer him the chance of something more on a silver platter. 

“Bucky?”

His fingers whisper up your shin as he inclines his head.              

“I’m tired. Drive me back to Sam’s?”

“Sure thing, doll.” 

                            -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bucky holds the door open for you as you stumble in, escaping the hazy southern heat. He disappears into the kitchen as you make a beeline straight for the couch, sighing loudly once the plush cushions meet your back. You lazily lift your head once you hear his familiar footfalls nearing. 

With him he brings two Otterpops, one blue raspberry and the other cherry. Once he hands it to you he takes a seat on your left, close enough that his thigh and shoulder bumps against yours. “Don’t tell Sarah’s kids that these were the last ones.”

You roll your eyes and promptly stick the Otterpop into you mouth. “‘M ain’t no snitch.”

His low chuckle reverberates through his chest. The silence that follows isn’t an awkward one as you enjoy the cold treat—it’s filled with the humming cicada bugs outside and the breeze through the wind chimes. Comfortable with the normalcy—just a couple of regular old people enjoying life for a suspended amount of seconds.  

Once you finish the Otter Pop, you crumple the plastic up and rest it on the coffee table. He does the same—hints of the blue syrup sticking to the cracks of his plush lips. You force yourself to avert your eyes. You cheeks heat with a flush as you rush to occupy your mind with anything but wild fantasies of Bucky’s mouth. You lean forward again, pointedly ignoring the way Bucky’s eyes track your movements as you shuck off your sling, the prickle of unused muscles and bruised ligaments rushing through the limb. You wince as you slowly roll your shoulder. 

The muscles in Bucky’s jaw clenches. You sigh—he’s still blaming himself for your injuries. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not everyone has freaky healing powers, Buck,” you snort. You rush to appease him when he frowns. “It’s getting better though. Still can’t sleep on it—but eh.” 

“I’m sorry.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. No matter how many times you tell him he’ll never believe you. That’s something only he can fix. Doesn’t stop you from telling him anyway. “Stop blaming yourself for my idiocy. I made my choice and paid the price for it.”

Bucky’s eyes drop to his hands. “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Steve told me to look after you.”

Your heart constricts within your chest like a fist. You inhale and reach out to rest your hand over his wrist. “Funny—he told me the same thing about you.”

It surprises him—his dark brows furrow as his mouth parts, but nothing comes forth. Grappling with the right words that fit with what he feels. He’s still learning how to give his soul a name that fits. Learning how to take the dark, twisted bramble of his heart and make it into something that doesn’t ache each time it beats. He’s still learning how to look himself in the eyes, point to himself and say that there’s nothing frightening in there. Not anymore. No more. 

You suck in a breath and muster up the embers of courage. Here goes nothing— 

You cup Bucky’s cheek, the scrape of stubble welcome against your warm palm as you gently turn his face to look at you. His eyes drift to yours when the mumbled syllables of his name tumble from your lips. His eyes are framed with dark circles of wildflower bruises, his small smile a moonbeam stark against battered skin. You’ve dreamt so many times of swallowing it whole and pressing him close enough that your heartstrings become entangled with no hope of separation. But that’s something for him to decide. 

You drop your hand cradling Bucky’s jaw, but before your hand completely falls Bucky surges forward. His large hands rush to cup your face, swallowing your noise of surprise as his plush lips fall onto yours. The syrupy flavor of a Blue Raspberry Otter Pop he stole from Sarah’s freezer lingers on Bucky’s mouth, mixed in with the smell of old leather and cracked cardamom. Bucky nips at your bottom lip, tugging once and then rolling it between the blunt enamel of his teeth. Despite all the bad jokes regarding his age and senior citizen status—fuck he’s a damn good kisser. Compared to him you feel clumsy, sloppy, but no matter how hard you search for his distaste he doesn't seem to care in the slightest—if anything he’s pulling you closer. 

Bucky’s kisses may taste like the middle of June and a first love, but desperation lines every action like a wound with jagged edges. It’s a slow process learning to be free, but one day he’ll transform into starlight—and instead of a kiss like fire, it’ll be like touching your lips to a constellation’s aureate mouth.   

When Bucky pulls away, sucking in air and resting his forehead on yours, you catch a whiff of his hair. Freshly washed and smelling a bit like Sam’s shampoo. Your lips quirk. You’ll make sure to keep that a secret from Sam.

You pull back just enough to meet his eye, resting your palm over his vibranium hand that still cups your cheek. “Am I the first person you’ve kissed since the stone ages?”

His lips pull into a cheeky smile. “Maybe.”

You laugh and roll your eyes, skating your palm down the front of his shirt, the heat of his skin near searing through the fabric. “I guess we have a lot of catching up to do, huh?”

Bucky’s lips smother your small moan as he drags you into another kiss. You can feel his smile as he murmurs his agreement between desperate kisses and the enticing warmth of his tongue skimming along yours. The next time you part for air, Bucky drops his strong hands from your face to instead wrap them around the curve of your hips. He tugs you over his right thigh with ease and breathes a gentle sigh of your name, beginning to pepper kisses over you cheek and down the slope of your jaw.

Bucky reaches your ear and carefully nibbles the cartilage, his voice a warm scrape in your ear. “I want you.”

It’s such a simple phrase…and yet…it tears through you and pools like a heavy weight right to your center. “Then take me.”

Quick as a strike of a match, you’re tipped backwards, cradled right between the arm of the couch and the back of it. Heat rushes through each limb and gathers in your cheeks as Bucky’s vibranium fingers skate up your chest and curl around the column of your throat—that hardened soldier he’s tried to bury bleeding through the cracks of his resolve. You don’t care. You gasp into his mouth as he squeezes ever so slightly while he pushes a firm thigh between your legs. Shit—this is how you’re gonna die—grinding on Bucky’s muscled leg while he’s got a hand around your throat. 

What a way to go.    

With his other hand he grips the meat of your thigh and pulls you higher, grinding the rough material of his jeans covering his crotch into yours. You whine and arch into him. You need more. 

You both stay here for a good while up until it feels like you’re ready to burst at the seems if you don’t have him now. Bucky is no better—cheeks flushed as he fumbles with the zipper to relieve the noticeable bulge straining against it. Impatient and needy, you shoo away his hands and do it yourself, easily sliding your warm hand down his navel and over his boxers to palm at his cock. Bucky’s hand twitches around your neck, a sweet groan filling the air when you softly squeeze him through the elastic.

“Fuck, you’re gonna…” Bucky trails off and buries his nose into the crook of your neck. “Gonna make me cum in my pants if you don’t—don’t stop.”

While the thought is tempting, you want this to last just a little bit longer. Rush after the glorious high of just being near him, his kisses, everything about him. Bucky grunts at the loss of your hand and mouths a wet trail of sloppy kisses up your neck and returns to your lips. When you part he sweeps a stray strand of hair and tucks it behind your ear. He smiles softly.

“Can I try something?” He breaths. Before he can even tell you what his idea is, you’re happily nodding along. “Wanna taste you. Been thinking about it ever since Wakanda.”

Oof. His words shoot straight your center. “Bucky—why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

His mouth quirks. “You make me nervous.”

Rolling your eyes you plant a kiss on his forehead and grant him his simple desire. Bucky sits and slides to the floor, close enough that he’s still able to hover over you. You lift your hips as Bucky tugs your shorts and underwear down and off your legs. Besides the general anxieties of being half naked in front of an incredibly attractive man and performing something so sinful on a friend’s couch—there’s a strange stroke of pride that alights through each of your vertebrae. A powerful man willingly dropping to his knees to please you. 

Bucky shoots you a smile and slides his hands around your ribcage, bends forward slightly and captures you mouth in a deep kiss. He parts and nips down your jaw and over your throat, sliding his tongue over the marks he leaves with his teeth as if to soothe the slight sting. You whine and arch into him as he slides lower, leaving an obvious trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake until he reaches the collar of your shirt. Bucky moves his palms under the fabric to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples that peak through your bra. You suck in a shaky breath when Bucky catches the pebbled bud between his forefinger and thumb, the hard vibranium of his fingers scraping over it. A low hum rumbles through his chest as he leans forward to playfully nip at your collarbone.

“I wanna see you naked.” Bucky admits as he slips his hands out of your shirt. You shiver as those chilly metal fingers gently come to rest on the outside of your bare thighs. 

“Not here, Buck,” you sigh. “T-they—fuck—they can come back any minute.”

Bucky quirks a brow, eyes dropping between your legs, then back up with a smirk. His plush lips part, yet before he can disprove your silly point—that your bare ass is already out and taking off the shirt would barely make a difference—you interject. 

“Shut up.”

His shoulders bounce with a chuckle. “You have such a way with words, y’know that?”

You make a noise low in your throat and reach out to sharply tug his ear. He easily bats your hand aside, hooks his hands under your ass and hauls until you’re all but hanging over the edge of the cushions. You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core as Bucky lowers himself and wedges his shoulder between your thighs. He slides his hand over your calfs and wrestles them over his broad shoulders—earning a perfect view of your pussy. You’re already wet—worked up and running on borrowed time. You roll your head back onto the back of the couch and clench your jaw. You don’t want to rush him but Christ—you really don’t want Sam or Sarah to find you like this.   

It feels like ages before Bucky’s lips touch your belly and then your navel with his warm tongue. With a grunt he shoves your shirt up to your breasts and circles your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue—his enhanced strength easily pinning you down as you jerk and giggle.

Bucky picks up his head and grins. “Try and hold still, doll.”

No sharp retort comes to mind. Fuck—he’s already got you so expertly wrapped around his finger. 

Bucky hums, satisfied with your weak nod and continues on.  

Bucky’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver that rushes through your body. They tickle towards the apex of your thighs and settle close enough to reach your aching center. He pauses for a moment and while you know he’s there, you curse when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They gently work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction as your body adjusts to the feel of flash and vibranium. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 

Unsatisfied with simply touching you, Bucky shifts his weight to better reach your core. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”   

There's a moment just before Bucky swoops down, face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, warm breath fan across you inner thighs. Anticipation grips your heart with an iron hold, and then— Bucky licks a broad stripe from the base of your cunt all the way up to your swollen clit. His mouth is molten, tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his hair. Bucky grunts against you as you drag him closer by the short strands—greedy for any and all touch he gifts you. Bucky’s mouth slips around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as a quiet moan wrenches free from your vocal cords.  

He trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your soaking entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your cunt, skips over it completely to catch the wetness before it leaks over the couch. Bucky opens his mouth wide and groans in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. Desperation lingers on his tongue and all you are is the honey sweet taste of salvation. 

“Shit—Bucky,” you cry, throwing your hips forward in search of more friction.

It's perfect. So fucking delicious. 

You tense as the vibranium tips of his fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the clenching ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The chilly digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness. With a self-satisfied grin, Bucky thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that makes everything ache with desire. It leaves you just hovering over the sharp edge of ecstasy, the catch of his knuckles and imperceptible metal plating dragging along your walls pure torture. Fuck—he’s going to be the death of you—

Bucky’s mouth dips down a second time and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. You're flying off that edge, faster than a fucking freight train. You cum onto his tongue and fingers with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Bucky continues to lick you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Supernovas implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jet fuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Bucky murmur his praise—feeling the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

Your brain swims in hazy bliss as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it damn near hurts. You're too sensitive. Nerves rubbed raw and still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. Bucky is all too happy to remain between your legs—takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his hot tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a vibranium razor against bare flesh. Your thighs shake around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves. You cry out as an orgasm floods through you veins, rupturing each cell in your being with molten pleasure. Your core pulses around Bucky’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease to a fading throb. You whine and push at his forehead because he's still going. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 

“Feel good?” Bucky purrs, resting his cheek on your thigh. 

If judging by the way you thighs still quiver and your chest heaves—then yeah—it felt good. 

Cheeky bastard.  

“Get up here—“

You grapple with his shirt, fisting the thin fabric, but he’s heavy and your entire body feels like jello. Your grip strength is all but laughable at the moment as Bucky clambers back onto the couch and grabs both of your legs, slotting his narrow hips between them. One leg is stuck against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, foot skimming the hardwood floor to accommodate Bucky. Not the most comfortable but fuck it—who cares.    

Bucky grunts when you lift your hands and hook your fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugging them halfway down his legs with a sharp yank. Already a dark patch of wetness stains the fabric of his boxers, the impressive bulge straining against the elastic and begging to be released. Your eyes meet his icy blue ones as you slowly pull his boxers over his cock. It bounces up towards his navel, thick and beautiful just like the rest of him. 

Impatient, Bucky’s fingers curl around your wrist and presses your open palm against his cock. He’s thick and heavy in your hand—perfect. The bead of precum that pools at his flushed tip smears against the inside of your palm as you experimentally roll your wrist, fascinated with the feel of his foreskin rolling over the steel heard flesh with each stroke.You give his a cock a rougher squeeze, a bolt of liquid heat settling in the pit of your stomach as a stifled moan reaches your ears. 

A sharp hiss of hair passes through his clenched teeth as you lightly tug on his cock. From the base up you pull, fixed upon the throbbing flesh, flushed and pulsing and all for you. His cock bobs when you let go—he huffs out a disappointed noise. “I need you, Buck—please.” 

Your previous two orgasms did seemingly nothing to soothe the growing ache for him. It prickles up your spine and singes through every nerve and bone—you whine and arch your hips, trying to touch your slick cunt to his cock. Bucky growls your name and pins your hips to the couch with ease. 

With his left hand, Bucky firmly grips your jaw, his stare folding into something serious. “You sure?”

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip. You grin. “Do your worst.”

Bucky curses and readjusts your calf slung over his hip and grips the base of his cock. You shudder as he runs the blunt head through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and arch. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s certainly not small in any way shape or form. You’ll feel him for days afterwards as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw clenched tight as sweat beads at his hairline. Shit—he’s gorgeous—struggling not to loose control the moment he’s buried inside of you. You allow yourself to adjust for a moment but your own impatience rakes down your spine with claws of scorching arousal. You rock your hips in curiosity and squeeze around him. 

“Fuck—“ A ragged moans severs his words as your gentle rocking tilts into abrasive jolts. At this angle it’s difficult to fuck yourself onto his cock, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. His left hand shoots to your throat, the chilly metal a stark contrast to your flushed skin. You dip your head back, exposing more of your supple skin—all his for the taking. 

You dig the heel of your foot into the small of his back and grab at his shoulders—tempting him into fucking you already. You’ve waited long enough. Bucky snarls your name, hooks one hand under your ass and pulls his cock nearly all the way, out only to slam back in with devastating force. There’s no time to adjust or gather your obliterated thoughts before Bucky sets a pace, desperate and feral. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what seems like a millennia—and maybe it has been. Bucky shifts, widening his knees as much as he can to sink lower onto your body—his soft hair tickles your cheek as his choppy exhales burn hot over your skin. 

Bucky turns his head to steal a kiss, open mouthed and catastrophic. No words are exchanged as he fucks into you with brutal strength aided by that damn super-soldier serum—there’s no need for them, not now anyway. You complete each other without the spoken utterances—still both a work in progress. Though most things are you suppose—constantly remaking yourselves, but instead of smashing the haphazard pieces back together alone—you have one another. You bury your hand in his hair and cry his name.  

You choke out another groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter and damn—you really hope nothing gets on this stupid couch. You don’t want to explain that Sam. 

Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, blazing through each and every vein with the brilliance of a wildfire escaping the edges of the forest. This is gonna ruin you. Bucky’s hand reaches between your bodies and rubs tight, controlled circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a calamitous surge of warmth that sweeps your very soul off its feet. Your nails dig into Bucky's back as you shake and fumble for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor. 

You have no time to recover because he’s still going. Thrusting into your pussy with violent slaps that echo through the room and will more than likely leave bruises against your ass. Through the pressure of his hand over your windpipe—threatening to cut your air off completely—you garble out his name. Bucky drops his head to his chin, the weight of his gaze landing between your legs, watching the way his entire length disappears inside of you. When he raises his head he molds his mouth to yours. The soft, wet kisses rapidly morph into pricks of his teeth, his gravelly moans so pleasing to hear. 

You arch and tilt your head back as he presses you harder into the couch. The vibranium hand latched onto your jaw, works it open and slides a thumb past your plush lips. You lave your tongue over the digit—the metallic tang flooding your tastebuds. “Good girl—m’close. A little longer.”

Bucky’s panting breaths mingle with yours as his pace turns vicious. Chasing his high that he so desperately needs. Overstimulation bites at your nerves, but with a gentle tug to the soft strands of hair on the back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, Bucky bursts. His moan jumps up an octave, eyes slamming shut as he buries his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he cums. He’s shuddering in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides. You whine and tilt your hips up to prevent it from spilling onto the couch. 

Finally he slows to a stop, ragged breathing filling the air as the heat and weight of his body becomes a welcome comfort. Eventually that warmth grows stifling. He lazily pulls away, observing gaze drinking in each inch of bare skin exposed—the marks and the light sheen of sweat. You hiss as he curiously drags his thumb over the bite mark lingering just above your collarbone.

He parts his plush lips but before he can apologize, you interject. “Don’t—I like the reminder.”

Bucky shakes his head and drops down to tempt your lips into a lazy dance. “You’re a weirdo.”

You smile and cup his cheek. “I’m not the one with a staring problem. You know that you can’t kill people by glaring, right?”

Bucky kisses your cheek, your jaw, and then the dip of your throat. “You don’t ever shut up, do you?” 

You shudder as his softening cock twitches inside of you, another coal of desire flaring in the pit of your stomach. You flash him a coquettish grin. “Maybe if you give my mouth something to do, you’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” 

Something dark and dangerous flickers within those eyes. You shiver as one hand returns to your throat while the other draws teasing patterns over the outside of your thigh. He draws in close, nips at the shell of your ear and chuckles darkly. “You’re on.”

#weLL here we are in a marvel hole kwejrkwejhr #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #tfatws #the avengers x reader #my writing

[harleysarchive]

To Confess Your Love | Charles Leclerc

Fandom: Formula one Warning: Angsty and FLUFFY my god. Not as long as the first one, 3500 words. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x f!reader  Summary: After the dinner party you and Charles haven’t spoken and you just keeping longing for each other. 

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A/N: Part two of To Fall in Love, and thanks again to Screnwriter for the inspiration, enjoy! 

It has been almost a week since the dinner party and you were at the airport waiting for your flight to Portugal. You and Charles haven’t spoken since that evening and you almost wondered if it was just a fling or a one time event that nothing would come from. You frowned slightly when the thought passed by in your mind, but were interrupted by a voice behind you. Lando came down running the aisle with his packback almost sliding down his shoulders.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

“Hey Lando. How have you been? Ready for Portugal?”

“More than ready, I’m so excited. How are you?”

“I’m good.” you said, more like trying to convince yourself that you were.

“Really?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“How about your crush-...” 

Lando didn’t have time to finish the sentence before your hand flew up on his mouth to hush him done.

“Not that loud, you dork.” you whispered loudly at him and he just grinned. “But nothing really, I haven’t heard from him since the dinner. But he is probably busy and I have been busy as well.” 

You tried to hide the heartbreak in your voice, but Lando sensed it and put an arm around, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“Well, if he hurts you I will take care of him.” 

“Thank you.” you smiled at him. The speaker's voice told you that it was time to board the plane, which made the crowd move slowly forward. Lando waved at George and he soon joined you in the line. You and Lando had your seats next to each other and George was just one the other side of the aisle. He took out his phone to snap a picture of the three of you. Lando hugged you and you gave off an excited smile. George wrote the caption:

Ready to take off to Portugal!! 

Instagram went crazy over the picture and the comments were very kind towards you and some were speculating if you and Lando were dating. 

The plane ride to Portugal went by fast, you had a great time with George and Lando. You listen to some music, which spotify almost exclusively recommended sappy love songs to make your heart even heavier. You watched a movie and then it was time to land. Portugal was quite warm and you put on your sunglasses when you left the airport. A taxi was waiting for the McLaren drivers and you waved off George as he joined the Williams team. 

“So how are you going to deal with, you know…”

“With Charles?” you asked and he nodded. You hadn’t realized how close he was going to be to you now and, frankly, you were a nervous wreck thinking about him.

“I will try my best to ignore him, besides, I’m with the McLaren team. So, it’s not like he’s gonna waltz into our building any time soon.” you joked, but your heart hoped otherwise. 

The taxi pulled up by the racing tracks and you were to walk with Lando around the track to get him ready for tomorrow's practice round. Daniel had texted you that he was on his way, but his plane was a bit late. Your heart jumped a bit when you passed the Ferrari building, but you tried your best not to think about it. You were here to work, not to go after the stupid crush you had on Charles Leclerc. But your heart didn’t want to listen, it wanted him to notice you, it wanted to have that moment from the dinner. The hand touches, staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes. His warm hand on your lower back guiding you, and his hand stroking your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. Almost kissing him. 

Please don’t let it be a dream that has to die, you begged. Please don’t let this be all that comes out of this. 

An arm snaked around your shoulders, which brought you back from your ruminating thoughts of your current heartache. 

“You look sad, something happened?” Daniel asked. 

“Oh, no. It’s nothing.”

“Hey, I know you well enough to know that you are lying. What has happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, (Y/N)-...”

“No, I mean nothing. He hasn’t talked to me since the dinner party.” you said and put your hands against your face. 

Daniel looked at you with a confused look, then he realized you were talking about Charles.

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

“NO.” your eyes widened and head flew up to look at him.

“Whoa, there is nothing wrong with being the first one to reach out, you know.”

“But I don’t want to annoy him.”

“And what if he feels the same about contacting you?” 

It pained Daniel a bit to help you with your crush on Charles, but it pained him even more to see you so sad over it. And from what he saw at the dinner party, the two of you really liked each other and he couldn’t deny you that happiness. I liked you and would always be protective of you, but he wanted you to be happy. Even if it meant dating a rival. He was about to leave you with your thoughts.

“Oh, and if the two of you start dating, don’t you dare leave me and Lando for Ferrari. You will stay with us.” 

You smiled at his silly remark. You gave him a hug before he left and reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere. You rose from the chair to get Lando for your round around the track. As you walked out from the McLaren building you saw people coming from the Ferrari building, Carlos was one of them with his manager. The same was for the AlphaTauri building and you could see Pierre in the crowd. He noticed you and waved at you. You smiled and waved back, but your smile suddenly turned to confusion when you saw that he was walking towards you.

“Hey, (Y/N) right?” 

“Yes, it is. How are you doing Pierre?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m good too, I was on my way to walk the track with Lando.”

It felt like Pierre wanted to talk to you about something but changed his mind.

“Well, I’m off too. I see you around.”

“Okay. See ya.” you said confused as Pierre walked away from you. 

Odd, you thought but started to walk towards Lando’s room. But when you turned around your whole body froze. Standing by the Ferrari building stood Charles, talking to one of his managers. You hated how your body reacted over seeing him again, that you couldn’t act normal. Like nothing had happened. But it had and you had played the scenes back in your head like a broken record. You had danced to every love song that you could find and felt like you could conquer the world. You had felt the butterflies late into the night, making it hard to sleep.

But now. Seeing him again made you lose all your confidence and your heartache felt even worse than before. You almost prayed that he didn’t notice you so you could sneak away, but deep down you hoped, wished, that he would see you. Notice you. To give you the same attention he had last week. But he and his team had walked the opposite way and he hadn’t looked in your direction once.

But he knew that you were there, he had seen Pierre talking to you, but he didn’t dare to go up to you. But oh, he wanted to.So bad that his body was aching for it and screaming at him to move. But he didn’t. So, instead of acting on his feelings, he avoided you, thinking it would be easier. Pierre had left you because he thought that Charles would come up to you himself and confess his love to you, but he almost got angry by the fact that he didn’t. Why did he leave you there? 

Charles continued to focus on the race and tried his best to ignore his speeding heart every time he passed the McLaren building. Pierre on the other and would not let this go. He hurried up to Charles and stopped him in his tracks.

“What are you doing?”

“Focusing on the race, why?” 

“Oh really, not ignoring a certain someone?” Pierre asked and Charles could hear the annoyance in his voice. And he hated that Pierre was right.

“No, why?” he lied. 

“Really? So, you looking at (Y/N) with those puppy eyes was nothing.”

Charles swallowed hard and tried to look unbothered by Pierre’s remark but his red cheeks and ears betrayed him. 

“Why don’t you act on it, mon ami?”

Pierre had to leave him because he had to walk the track as well. Charles let out a sigh, he knew Pierre was right. He did want to act on his feelings, but he was afraid. The what if’s haunted him, making him nervous, which was unusual for him.  

The track walking had gone well for Lando. He was super focused and it felt like he was going to do a fantastic race here as well. You walked back to the McLaren building, making yourself ready to take Daniel on his round. You looked out the window to see Charles discussing something with Carlos. 

Fuck, you thought, as you had to walk past them to get to Daniel, so you mustered up all the confidence that you could find within yourself and went out. Charles had his back against you so Carlos would be the first to notice you.

“Hello.” you smiled at Carlos as you got closer to them.

“Hello.” he greeted you politely. Charles turned around when he heard your voice.

“Hey.” Charles said, but you didn’t dare to look at him for too long. You could feel your cheeks become flustered just by greeting him. Him on the other hand had his eyes on you the whole time as you walked away. Carlos followed his gaze to see what had gotten his attention.

“Do you know her?”

“Wha-... Who?” Charles said, trying his best to disguise his flustered state. Carlos just laughed at him and patted him on the back. 

You walked up to Daniel. 

“Ready to walk the track?”

“Sure thing.” he said and snaked an arm around your shoulders. You smiled at him and the two of you started walking towards the track. Daniel saw that Charles was looking at you and Daniel brought you closer to him, trying to protect you from his gaze. Charles' expression soured by Daniel’s action, but this made him determined to do something about his feelings. He was not going to let you go.

The walk with Daniel was different from Lando’s. Daniel was more relaxed but nonetheless as focused as Lando. You took notes and asked him different questions, standard procedure. 

“I think that’s it.” you said. 

“Great! It’s soon time for dinner, are you coming?”

“Not yet, I’m going to take a walk before dinner.” you said. You felt the need to be alone for a moment. Daniel nodded and hugged you from the side before he took off. You walked back to the McLaren building and took your bag. The weather was nice and your mind needed to be alone for a while. You got out of the building, stealing a glance at the Ferrari building, which made your heart feel heavy. But you couldn’t dwell on it too much, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. 

Comotion was heard from the Ferrari building, drawing your attention towards the crowd that exited. Charles was in the crowd with his sunglasses. But you couldn’t stop staring at him and how good he looked in that red shirt. As if he felt that someone was looking at him, his head turned towards you and you quickly focused on the ground.

His eyes were still on you and he took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you. You looked up again and met his eyes. Electricity sparkled inside your body when you met his hazel eyes, you almost felt hypnotised by him and felt how your body wanted to go to him. It was drawn to him, like a magnet. He smiled at you, making his damn dimples visible again. You almost couldn’t take it, your heart almost couldn’t take it. But you smiled back. Charles broke off the gaze when someone called for him and you woke up from your trance. You tightened your grip around your bag and started to walk towards the exit. 

Charles saw how you were leaving.

It’s now or never, he thought and tried to catch up with you. You felt a presence behind you and to your surprise - and delight - it was Charles. 

“Hey.” he said.

“Hello.” you greeted him. His eyes locked with yours again and he completely forgot what he was going to do. His mind became completely blank and all he could focus on was you. You were the only one he wanted to focus on. His body wanted to get closer, his hands wanted to touch you and he could feel his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. His hazel eyes drew you in and you could see all the emotions that were fighting inside of him. 

“How did your track walk go?” you asked. His mind woke up from the sound of your voice.

“It went well, I think I’m ready for tomorrow's practice round.”

“I like the sound of it.” you smirked. He let out a sigh. 

“Are you going somewhere?” 

“Yeah I needed some air and to see something else than the tracks.”

“Well I know a few places, if you want me to join you?” his eyes looked at you hopefully but they also showed a bit of worry. Worry of rejection. Worry that you were mad at him for being such a coward towards you. 

“I would love to.” you beamed. He held out his arm for you. You linked it with his, feeling the electricity spark again when you touched him. 

“Can we stop by the hotel so I can get changed?” you asked. 

“Of course.” 

He had his Ferrari parked nearby and opened the door for you. You thanked him, before he started the car and you drove towards the hotel. The two of you talked about how he felt about the practice round tomorrow and how he was feeling for the race on sunday. He had a steady grip on the steering wheel, but he wanted to lay one hand on top of your knee, but he didn’t dare to. He didn’t know how you were feeling. Finally at the hotel, you said that you would meet at the lobby in 30 minutes. You rushed to your room as fast as the elevator would let you and tried to find something that fitted for your date… Wait, was this a date? 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the idea, but it was still in the back of your head when you walked towards the elevator. Charles was already in the lobby when you exited the elevator.

“Ready to go?” he asked. 

“Absolutely.” you said and he held out his arm for you to take. He guided you to his Ferrari and opened the door for you. You thanked him and he drove you around the area, talking about everything and nothing. You laughed and his jokes and shrieked when he sped up with his car. He gave you a smug smile over how excited you were. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked when he pulled up his car in the small city. 

“Starving.” 

“Good, cause I know a place.” 

The two of you got out of the car and he guided you down the road to a restaurant that looked adorable.

“They have delicious food.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

The waiter showed you a table that looked over the town. It was beautiful and you looked over at Charles. He was wearing his sunglasses so you couldn’t quite see what he was looking at. But his eyes were on you, admiring how you looked at everything with such awe and wonder. Like everything fascinated you to some degree and he liked that. Something distracted you, making you turn your head away from Charles. He took this as an opportunity to move closer to you. He put his arm on the backrest of your chair and when you turned your attention back to him, you noticed that he was closer. He had his hand on the table and your mind was thinking. This is exactly like the dinner last week… But you didn’t put your hand over his this time. The waiter came back with your drinks and took your orders for dinner. Charles then turned his attention back to you, contemplating if he should touch your shoulder like he had done on the dinner. Then a pang of guilt washed over him when he remembered the dinner. 

“You look beautiful, (Y/N).”

His comment made you jump in surprise and you turned towards him, but you could also feel how you got flustered over it.

“Thank you, so do you. But you always do.” you said with a smirk on your face. Knowing that you said the exact same thing last week and he remembered. He had had that sentence in his head ever since that evening. That you thought he looked good. He cleared his throat.

“Listen, I need to tell you something.”

You wanted to play cool, but that phrase just made your body react in a fight-or-flight mode.

“Yes?”

“About the dinner… I was… I was going too... '' Charles stuttered, feeling his whole face turning flustered. He was probably a deep crimson color at the moment.

“You don’t have to-...” you tried to interrupt but your tongue got stuck when you felt his hand on top of your knee.

“I really wanted to talk to you after that dinner, but...”

“But?”

“But I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” you said dumbfounded. “Of what?”

“That you would reject me.”

Your heart melted over his words. How could this even be real? How could he, Charles Leclerc, be afraid of you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), rejecting him?

“Why would I ever reject you?” you whispered. He took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you. He wanted to be sure that you were honest with him. And nothing about your body language or eyes told him otherwise.

“I could’ve talked to you too, but I was scared that you would think I was annoying for reaching out.”

“Annoying?” he said, confused. “You couldn’t be annoying. If you had reached out to me I would’ve been more than happy to answer.”

“Really?” you beamed.

“Of course. You have already been on my mind since the dinner party.” he confessed, feeling his cheeks burn even more. Your smile couldn’t get bigger, were you hearing this in real life or was this a dream coming true?

Charles' eyes were flickering between your eyes and lips again. He leaned in and this time you had no one to interrupt your moment. The kiss you shared was sweet and full of anticipation. All the electricity that you had felt before sparked like a firework now, the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your whole body wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Your hand reached for his chin and his hand was pressing against your back. None of you wanted to break off the kiss, in fear of coming back to reality. But the sound of food coming your way made you break it off, looking at each other with such adoration and love that nothing could come in between the two of you. Both flustered and nervous from the kiss but also full of adrenaline and excitement. Conversation flowed as never before, you talked about the dinner and how you had felt towards Charles and vice versa. 

After dinner Charles wanted to take you to the beach before you headed back to the hotel. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the ocean. You breathed in the salty air and Charles took out his phone to snatch a photo of you. He also started a slow song on spotify.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he grabbed your hand and placed the other on your lower back.

“Dancing with you.” he said, smiling with a tint of rosy cheeks. You just laughed at his sweet actions and danced with him until the sun was setting. He guided you back to the car and drove you to the hotel. When in the lobby you shared one last longing look before you had to be seperated. 

“I’ll see you again?” you asked.

“Of course.” he answered and kissed you knuckles.

“And that’s a promise?”

“That is a promise, ma chérie.”

You smiled and headed for the elevator and the last thing you saw before the door closed was Charles’ flustered face and boyish grin. He was on cloud nine and beyond. He didn’t know when was the last time he had felt this in love and to know that his love was reciprocated.

Je t’aime, (Y/N). Ma chérie. 

A/N: Thank you for reading 🥰

Tagged: @ohmyolympusssy @perfectfantasies22​ @lu-morningstar​

#charles leclerc oneshots #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fandom #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one #imagine #imagines #harleysarchive

[volleychumps]

« Ghost.

~ the one in which Sakusa Kiyoomi sees you happy after he broke your heart.

format: One-shot

genre: angst

- Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

Warning(s): Use of alcohol, set in after-high school 

One of my older requests I’ve kept, this fic is influenced by the song ‘Ghosts’ by Jeremy Zucker. Although it’s not a song fic, very sad content is ahead. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I told you to wear your gloves.” 

“Whaaat? Why would I do that when your pockets are so warm?” 

“How convenient for you.” 

“Here, put your hands in here with me. Live a little, take your gloves off! It’s so warm~”

Sakusa swallowed. Dark eyes stared blankly through the glass out into the deluge of rain, a slightly damp travel bag seated on the plastic seat next to him, a gentle prod of his fingers making him snap out of it. Komori sends him a worried stare, noting that his cousin seemed to have changed a lot from his travel abroad. 

The slight glimmer in Sakusa’s eyes before he left was just as dimmed the day he boarded that plane. 

“Does anyone else know you’re back in Japan?” 

“Who would I tell?” Sakusa shrugged as his cousin met him with a incredulous stare. “The team is expecting my return-” 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Sakusa stiffens, clearing his throat before sipping the warm beverage before him. He didn’t taste anything, eyes flitting over to the half-drunken matcha in his cousin’s cup. That reminds him of- 

“You didn’t tell Y/N?” 

There it is. 

Silence filled the distance between the two before Sakusa’s dark coffee hits the table with a prominent thud. 

“It’s not like she would want to see me.” 

“She could never hate you, you know. Especially after-” 

“Komori.” Sakusa’s stare hardened, fingers clasping at ceramic. Komori’s lips press back together in a thin line, opting to swirl the matcha tea in his cup before bowing his head slightly in apology. 

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Blegh! How do you drink it so strong?” 

“...swap with me.” 

“Don’t tell me you ordered a matcha because you knew I wouldn’t like it.” 

“Ha. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

“Awh, Kiyoomi-Kun!” 

“Gross.” 

The rain was less now, the two figures in the rain under the abandoned shop seeming to dissapitate with the downpour. It was him, holding a girl’s hands in his pockets as he stubbornly adjusts the hat on her head. Two half-drunken drinks that had been swapped sat next to them- 

“Let’s get going, yeah?” Komori stands, having finished his tea as Sakusa rips his gaze away from the familiar scene. 

“You seem tired from all the traveling. Didn’t you get any sleep on the plane?” 

He hasn’t slept well in a long while. 

“I did.” He finishes the americano in one go, ignoring the burn in his throat as he longs for the taste of alcohol. “Lead the way.” 

Sakusa casts one more glance through the glass window. The two figures were nowhere to be seen. 

----------------------------------------------------

His thumb grazed his phone screen over your contact. Backspace. Hello-. Backspace. Delete. Hover over delete option. Back to messages. I’m back in-.

Sakusa sighs through his nose, a futile attempt to release the tightness in his chest, before turning on his side as the sun peeks in through his window. Five hours at most, a lot better than his usual nights. 

Perhaps it was because he knew you were a mere cardrive away. 

“Why are you here?” 

“...it was on the way.” 

“So...what can I do for you?” 

Silence. 

“Unless....no way, did you miss me?” 

“No.” 

“You answered too fast, meaning you’re lying.”

“So what if I did?” 

“Come here Kiyoomi, spend the night.” 

He throws his phone. 

--------------------------------------------------------

“You hurt her, you know that?” 

“Is she...doing okay?” 

Sugawara sighs heavily, running a hand through his gray locks across from the stoic boy. Sakusa was lucky at least one of your friends was willing to give him the time of day, seated across one of your more gentle friends in the university library. 

“...she’s doing fine. She’s holding down a gig at Onigiri Miya while she finishes her degree.” Sugawara stands, guilt filling his hazel eyes before hardening slightly. “But you don’t get to ask about her.” 

“I know.”

“You walked away from her when all she did was give you everything her world had to offer.”  

Sakusa grits his teeth. “I know.” 

“Do you?” Sugawara wasn’t easily irritated, flipping a page in his textbook before meeting your ex with an even stare. “If you knew how hard it was for everyone to pick up the pieces-” 

“Thanks for meeting me.” Sakusa’s chair scraped the floor as he stood abruptly, heart pounding in his ears. He felt Suga’s stare on his back as he exited the library, stopping at the exit as his breathing picks up. 

“Am I even allowed here?” 

“It’s fine. Relax! You look like a Uni student.”

“...Y/N.” 

“Hm?”

“I-” 

“Sakusa?” 

It had been a whole year since he heard that voice, not haunting his dreams, but in reality. Dark eyes widen a fraction as his breath catches in his throat at the smile that spreads across your lips. You had gotten more beautiful than the image his mind spun back and forth, rooting him in place.

“You’re back?” 

“...Mm.” 

“That’s great! Tell the team I’m looking forward to your welcome home party tonight. It was great seeing you.” 

Sakusa’s lips parted, but no words came out. He was taken back abruptly as your shoulder brushed his as you walked past

“Don’t be a burden.” 

“K-Kiyoomi, how could you-?” 

“I don’t need to leave something annoying behind me when I leave to train.”

“Something? Kiyoomi, it’s me. It’s us-” 

“Don’t wait for me.” 

“I will! You just need to say the word, and-” 

“Are you usually this pathetic? We were never in love, Y/N. You were just convenient.” 

“You’re lying-!” 

“Good luck, Y/N. I don’t know when or if I’ll be back. Don’t look for me.”

He needed to let you go, no matter what lies stain his tongue. He needed you to be okay without him, not looking out the window everyday in hopes that promises over text and call were enough. 

And that was the day he brushed past you, a stream of even tears falling from your widened eyes as your heart shattered in your chest- 

not realizing that the sight of Sakusa’s back shielded the view of the single trickling tear down his cheek. 

But still, he kept walking. 

“Y/N.” 

Dark eyes widen when you flinch on instinct, Sakusa’s hand hovering in mid-air over your arm before your smile is back. His chest tightens as he realizes that it’s merely polite, not holding the same love it once did. 

You tilted your head, and Sakusa could feel his fingers tremble at the shine in your eyes. 

“I gotta go, Sakusa. Suga’s waiting. It was great to see you though, you look good.”

It was his turn to watch your back as unshed heat brimmed his eyes, but you don’t look back to notice. 

...Sakusa?

-------------------------------------------

“I need to go for a walk.” 

“What? Dude, this is your party.” Atsumu blinks in disbelief as Bokuto and Hinata chow down on plate after plate of onigiri. His friends bustle around the shop, but you were no where to be seen. 

“Five minutes, you imbecile. I won’t run away.”

“You better not!” Atsumu slurs, on the edge of absolutely hammered as he flashes Sakusa a wide thumbs-up. “You’ll make our guests sad!” 

Out of everyone in this party, he wanted to see you the most.

Sakusa manages to make it out the back door, planning to watch for your arrival until he sees your figure seated not far away in the grass, cradling a single drink in your hand as your eyes stare up at the clouded stars. Faded, but they were barely there as your eyes seemed to be questioning the world up above. 

It was a lie. 

Sakusa’s nails bit into his palms. 

It wasn’t just convenient for him. 

He swallows back the lump in his throat. 

You were his world. His first and last love. 

He begins to take a step-

Please let him be your last. 

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” 

He stops in place, watching from mere feet away as Osamu Miya plops down in the grass next to you. You jokingly protest as Osamu takes your drink, taking a swig from it before looking at you with something in his eyes. 

No. It wasn’t something new to Sakusa, because that’s the way he used to look at you. 

“...He came back.” Your voice was almost a whimper, and Osamu gently tugs you to lean your head on his shoulder.

“I know.” 

“I’m happy, Osamu.” 

“I didn’t say anythin’.” 

Sakusa should’ve walked away. He should’ve willed his feet to move, but he couldn’t. All his dark eyes could do was watch as you rolled your eyes playfully, tugging the drink out of Osamu’s hands before setting it down and cupping his face with one hand-

Doing that thing where your hand slipped into Osamu’s denim jacket pocket. 

“I love you. He was the past. You are my present. And...my future, hopefully?”

Osamu’s lip twitches upwards as he turns his face so he can kiss your palm that’s cupping his cheek. 

“I know, princess. You’re allowed to be sad, I’m not a monster.” Osamu pauses, thinking for a second before nodding once. “Unless you want me to be a monster, I can beat-” 

He’s cut off as you roll your eyes, smiling as you kiss him so lovingly- 

Ah. This must’ve been how you felt the day he left you in pieces. 

Sakusa wanted to scream, but a warm trickle of wetness slipped down his cheeks instead as it began to rain, the clouded stars turning darker ironically as Sakusa realizes that the shop he’s standing outside of-

the abandoned one where he kept you warm that winter night. 

It was now Onigiri Miya. 

He felt his legs almost give out as he stumbles to the side of the building, shielding him from view as your panicked laughs sound over the rain. 

“Y/N. I...I think I-”

“Kiyoomi?”

“What?” 

“I’ll love you more than you’ll ever know.” 

Sakusa couldn’t tell if the drops on his face was the rain, feeling like he was floating as his skin became numb to the cold.

In fact, he wished that this was one of his dreams, the ones where he punished himself with images of you in his arms. 

That way, he could keep on living with your ghost.

--------------------------------------------------

Brb It’s not like I’m vv sad as I write this. 

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles   @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @nekomawhore @holaaaf@babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic #haikyuu!! #haikyuu one shot #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kyoomi x reader #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa angst #haikyuu sad #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #osamu scenario #haikyuu osamu #osamu miya #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koushi

[expectingtofly]

Painted Nails and Pride

1.7k

internalized homophobia, john being an a**hole, bisexual dean, found family, happy ending

written for day 7 of @spnprideweek

Music boomed from the park down the street and Dean tried to focus on the newspapers spread out before him, front pages covered with news about a bear attack at a campsite a few miles west. Not actually a bear attack, of course. From the tracks they’d seen when they hiked out there yesterday, Dad's money was on wendigo.

Cheering drew his eyes from the table where he, Sam, and Dad sat outside a restaurant to the people heading down the sidewalk towards the music. Banners on streetlights along the road proclaimed that today marked Roseville's 3rd Annual Pride Parade. His eyes snagged on a group of kids his own age standing on the street corner, hugging and talking excitedly. One boy had painted nails and wore a cropped shirt that exposed his midriff. As he talked with his friends, he looked around, and his eyes met Dean’s. He smiled at him, and Dean ducked his head, face burning.

An announcer’s voice echoed down the street. “Welcome to Pride,” the voice boomed. Dean folded and unfolded the corner of the newspaper, listening to the cheering, rotating the ring on his thumb around and around.

Dad snorted, and Dean glanced up at him. Arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, he watched the proceedings with a scowl on his face. Dean studied the newspapers more intently, underlining words just to look like he was doing something productive. Part of him wanted to go down to the parade, just to see what it was all about, but that was ridiculous. Only affirmed by a derogatory comment Dad made low under his breath about the people in the street.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed verbally, jostling his leg under the table. He glanced sideways at Sam, who was giving Dad a glare. Dean gave him a look that meant, don’t start, but Sam ignored him.

“Don’t say that,” he said, and Dean froze, eyes snapping to their father. Dad pulled his eyes from the street to Sam, giving him a long, steady look.

“What?” he asked after a long moment. “You one of them?”

Sam only held his gaze for a second before it seemed his courage failed. He ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled, kicking at the table leg.

Dad stared at him for another long moment, expressionless, before turning his journal around and dropping it in front of Sam. “Shut up and make yourself useful. Sooner we figure out what’s killing these folks, sooner we can get out of this goddamn town.”

He waved down the waitress for another drink, and Dean glared at Sam, who was absently thumbed through the journal pages. Returning to his own work, he snapped one newspaper closed and opened another, skimmed an article about the victim’s family. The words didn’t really make sense in his head, though, and too soon he found himself watching the people in the street again. The boy who’d smiled at him had disappeared, though, probably watching the parade.

Finding a one-off line in an article about rumors of a strange being haunting the woods, he circled it and handed the newspaper across the table.

“Nice work,” Dad said, taking the paper, but instead of the usual warmth from his praise, Dean only felt sick.

He felt about the same now, standing in Jody’s kitchen—off to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way during the frenzied preparations to attend the Sioux Falls Pride Parade. Music played from Patience’s phone, some song he recognized from Cas constantly turning the radio dial to the pop music station. Sam helped Kaia finish a sign decorated with the lesbian flag, and Eileen signed with Alex who was learning sign language in high school. Claire sat at the table painting Jack’s nails, who wriggled in his seat excitedly.

Catching Dean’s eyes, he held up the hand Claire had finished. “Dean, look!”

Dean forced a smile. “Looks good.”

“Stay still,” Claire ordered, frowning down at Jack’s hand as she painted his pinky.

This was a bad idea, Dean thought. Jody had invited them for the week, mentioning off-hand that Sioux Fall’s pride events were going on, and Dean had pushed aside the mild panic at that comment, told her they’d come visit. He didn’t know he’d be roped into joining everyone at Pride, but here he was, feeling out of place in the corner of the kitchen. Who knew how he’d feel standing at the parade.

“Want me to do yours?” Claire asked, and Dean snapped his attention back to her. She was holding a bottle of nail polish, others lined up next to her on the table, and he froze, realizing what she was suggesting.

His first instinct was to spit out, “I’m not one of those,” but guilt rushed through him for how harsh the words sounded in his head. Defensive words, unnecessary ones because there was no threat here. He didn't mean them anyway.

Swallowing them down, he glanced around the kitchen for rescue. Cas was helping Donna pack water bottles because “It’s gonna be hot out there,” but he must’ve felt Dean’s gaze because he looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. No judgement in his eyes, or Claire's either, for that matter. He had a feeling he wouldn't find any judgement in this kitchen, which should've been a relief, but he had a hard time trusting it.

“Come on, Dean,” Jack said. “We can match!”

You can do this, Dean told himself. It's just Pride, not an Apocalypse.

He tried to smile. “Sure,” he said, going to the table and sitting down, chest tight.

He chose the color blue because it felt less ostentatious than the pinks and lilacs Claire presented to him. Even so, the color looked strikingly bright in the sunlight as he stood along the street marked off for the parade, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” Cas said, touching his shoulder. Dean tensed, then felt awful for his reaction, but Cas didn’t move away, only rubbed between his shoulder blades until Dean relaxed marginally. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Fine,” he managed. Cas gave him a small smile and leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder.

A float passed with people waving and dancing on top, a banner strung across the front declaring, “Protect Trans Kids.” Jack waved a rainbow flag around, cheering along with the crowd. Claire’s arm was wrapped around Kaia’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her attempts to look unbothered by the proceedings. Dean wished he could feel that nonchalant. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know exactly what threat he was looking for, but the press of the growing crowds and the heat and noise, the bright colors and waving flags everywhere he looked was making him nauseous.

Turning back to the parade, he met Sam’s eyes. “Never thought we’d both end up here, right?” Sam asked over the noise, attempting levity, and Dean wondered if he remembered sitting outside near a Pride parade, feeling so unsure. There were plenty of other instances to remember, plenty of times John made disparaging comments that Dean either pretended to not hear or agreed with out of a panic that if he wasn’t careful, they might be directed at him next.

“This is fun,” Sam commented, watching the parade, and Dean wished he could agree.

Easy for you to say, he thought. You have a girlfriend, people’ll assume you’re straight. But he felt bad for thinking it. He didn’t want Cas to move away from him—if anything, wanted him closer, wanted his arm around him. But he felt too tense to move.

A crowd of middle-aged people walked in the parade, t-shirts reading variations of MOM HUGS, DAD HUGS, GRANDPA HUGS. Dean watched as people stepped off the sidewalk and hugged the moms and dads, some crying as soon as arms wrapped around them.

Without his permission, he felt his own eyes growing teary and he ducked his head, scraped his heel on the sidewalk.

“Dammit,” Jody said. “Where can I get one of those t-shirts?”

“We gotta do that next year,” Donna decided, and Jack gave her a hug.

“You can hand out hugs without the t-shirt,” he told her, and she grinned.

“You’re right.” Lifting her arms, she announced, “Free hugs over here!” People around them laughed, and someone took her up on the offer, telling her, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

Donna beamed. “Why yes I do.” She pulled Claire into a half-hug that Claire resisted, protesting the whole time. “Come here, Sam,” she said, yanking Sam into a hug that he had to nearly fold himself in half for. Everyone else got their turn, then she turned to Dean, holding out her arms.

Dean stepped into it, wrapping his arms around her. A gentler hug, Donna rubbing his back. Dean sunk into the embrace, the chaos around him subsiding for a moment.

“We’re family now, right?” she asked, pulling away to meet his eyes, and Dean nodded. Smiling at him and patting his arm, she turned back to Jody, wrapping an arm around her.

It felt a little easier to breathe now, his chest not so tight. The crowds around them didn’t seem so threatening, just smiling people with their families like he was with his. Eileen cheered as a float passed with an Irish LGBTQ+ coalition, and Dean smiled, easier now, not forced.

Jody pulled Donna in for a kiss that turned into making out. Claire rolled her eyes. “Ew, guys, Gross.” Kaia elbowed her and Claire’s put-on air of displeasure broke into a grin as she elbowed her back. Cas nudged Dean with a small smile when a float of pink, purple, and blue streamers drove past. For a moment, Dean's chest seized, John's voice ringing in his head, but in all the noise around them, it quickly drowned out.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he took Cas’ hand. Cas interlaced their fingers immediately, squeezing tightly, then lifted their hands and studied Dean’s nails. Dean had let Jack paint a smiley face on his pinky to match the one on Jack’s thumbs. Staring at them, he thought of a boy at Pride with painted nails, his own fears and wants tightening his chest, but then Cas looked up at him with a smile, and the memory faded into a warm glow.

“I like them,” Cas told him.

“Yeah," Dean said. "Me too.”

#spnprideweek #bluefirecas #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #userstarry #userpris #destiel fic #pride #internalized homophobia #john's a+ parenting #established dean/cas #bisexual dean winchester #inspired by my first time at pride #:) #expectingtofly writes

[twistedmusings]

Vil Schoenheit: After RSA’S Performance

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

A/N: What is formatting. I don’t even know.

But listen though. When did Vil get hot? I mean he has always been hot but is it now because he is sad boy? A rude boy turned sad boy? Is that why I am attracted to him now and was compelled to write this?

I don’t know but I’m in love so I’m going to run with it.

This is how Vil would react if MC looked like they were enjoying RSA’s performance.

Part 2, here!

What Vil felt couldn’t really be put into words.

His grades would say that he was one of the highest ranking students in the Language Arts for Night Raven College. Not just in regular human speech but also in fairy-dialect, animal dialect and any sort of dialect that Professor Trein would demand. Vil also excelled in prose, poetry and abstract writing.

Being left speechless was not something that was supposed to happen, not twice in a row.

The tightening of his throat would speak otherwise, as well as the sudden feeling of vertigo.

Vil could barely hear Kalim through the jovial sound of Neige’s voice, the one thing that had kept him awake for these past few weeks--no these past few years. When was the last time that he had felt so helpless? Was it when he had first met him? Neige, with his bright smile and lovable personality that made people overlook his mistakes, his very obvious mistakes. The way he wouldn’t go when it was his cue, or how Neige would forget almost every other line only to finally have the script memorized by the time it was opening night.

A children’s song.

“What even is this song! The chorus just won’t leave my head!”

He wasn’t even ready during dress rehearsal, Neige would wait until fucking opening night.

Was it dramatic to say that the whole event had haunted him? As well as the domino effect of undeserved fame that Neige had gotten afterwards?

No, to Vil, being overshadowed by this person despite all the effort that he put into each and everyone of his performances was something akin to being shot by a gun.

Over and over and over.

He had been beaten by a children’s song.

Every single commercial, every music video, every promotion and every product placement that Neige did was like a dagger carving him up from the inside out.

So when the VDC presented itself, he jumped at the chance to not just shape himself into the perfect being to defeat Neige, but to shape others to show that not only could he surpass himself but he could help others break through their own ‘ugly’ exteriors to discover their own personal beauty. And by all means he had done it, he had taken five rough and ugly rocks and turned them into polished jewels.

Polished jewels that framed the diamond he had worked so hard to turn himself into.

His grip on the audience seat loosens when something flashes through his mind.

The practices had been rather arduous, not only having to make sure that he was flawless but trying to deal with Epel’s stupid gender based ideas, Ace and Deuce’s lack of grace and even Kalim’s really really terrible singing voice. Yet something had made it even a little bit worth it.

Someone, he needed to correct himself, someone had made it a bit worth it.

The sixth potato that he had hoped to start shaping after this whole thing was over.

What could he say about you? At first glance you were truly nothing special. An uneventful, magicless person from an equally uneventful place that hadn’t even been accepted into this school but was instead made a student because of the monster next to you. You weren’t even a student, more like a glorified problem solver for the Headmaster. Ideally, Vil should have also hated your guts since you were essentially getting the same education that he had been getting when he was a first year but without any effort but there was something different about you that he had not expected.

I think you’re probably the fairest out of everyone in the school.

A small glimmer of something beautiful.

But in the end your opinion is the one that will matter to you.

You were honest. That is something that Rook had mentioned about you once he did his recon of the new manager for the VDC team. How the Ramshackle prefect really didn’t have anything to offer but that the quality that stood out the most to the hunter was your refreshing honesty.

He had modeled for crowds of adoring fans and yet he found himself pulling out his pocket mirror and fixing non-existent imperfections before talking to you. Yet even when he tried to make himself look presentable to you, you always seemed to catch him when all of his walls were down.

“You should have seen the information that I got from Riddle, Leona, and Azul. They have really gotten a reputation behind them, the Ramshackle prefect. I wonder what will happen if we keep them close~”

Vil wouldn’t admit it to anyone but there had been a brief moment that his heart skipped a beat when the news about how the VDC team would be rooming in Ramshackle. He figured it had skipped out of beat due to the horrific news that he would have to room in a dorm that had not been used for who knows how long but when he had come inside and been greeted by your smile, it was almost surreal how he had come to terms with this feeling of nervousness.

The night before the VDC had found Vil in the Ramshackle lounge, a cup of tea in his hand as he watched a video of that day’s performance. There were still minor imperfections here and there but those would be easily covered up by his own singing and movements. Epel had also improved exponentially which highly increased the probability of a successful performance and with Jami’s hypnotizing movements and Rook’s aura there was no doubt that he had this competition under his heel.

But nerves like these didn’t leave overnight.

A creak on the stairs brought him back to the present, taking a sip of his tea as he continued to look at the video.

“If you’re here to ask me about why I am awake at this hour, Rook, I would like to remind you that you insisted we review the performance in the morning which already did nothing to calm my nerves--”

"Vil-senpai?"

His head snapped up to look at you , the light of the moon masking him in shadows while illuminating you as you made your way down the staircase. He clicked his tongue and turned off his phone.

"Was I interrupting something?"

Vil shook his head, “Last minute detail check. Everything has to be perfect by tomorrow.”

You nod and walk towards him, standing next to the couch before pointing to it. Vil looked at you before looking at the seat next to him. What were you--oh. He nodded and you sat down on the other side of the love seat, both of you farther apart that he would have liked.

“Does the manager have anything they want to say to me?”

“It just gets me thinking. You have been doing this performance perfectly in my eyes. Over and over again that it makes me wonder just what you think is lacking.”

You bring your feet up to the seat, hugging your knees together as you look down at the floor, “Maybe your definition of perfect and my definition of perfect are so different.”

The Pomefiore dorm leader rolls his eyes, “Did your Heartslabyul friends put you up to this?”

“Ace and Deuce? Great Sevens no. If they did I would have rightfully ignored them and gone to bed. I’m just your manager, I’m not here to negotiate.”

“Just a manager.” Vil frowns and looks at you, “You understand that you are currently housing the Vil Schoenheit as well as six other people who happen to be under my temporary tutelage. If you and your dorm weren’t around I would have had to keep those two Heartslabyul potatoes in the Pomefiore dorm and I don’t think I could stand letting them sleep in one of our beds. Our dorm has standards, luckily yours is the most neutral place I can stand being around those two without losing sleep.”

He blinks at the snort you let out, staring as you wave your hands and apologize while trying to prevent another one from surfacing.

“That is the only straightforward compliment my dorm has received. Neutral.” you laugh again before wiping a fake tear from your eyes, “Am I allowed to take it as a compliment?”

Vil is glad for the darkness, it hid the sudden flush in his cheeks.

“Take it as you will.”

You nod and stand up, stretching and letting out a satisfied sigh when your back made a small cracking noise that had Vil clutching at his cup. Anybody else and he would have walked out of whatever conversation he was having, so why did he find that tolerable with you?

“Then let me pay it back.” you hold out your hand and for a brief moment Vil wants to take it. Clearly that was an invitation for something and it alarmed him that he didn’t mind the mystery behind it. Yet your finger pointed at the cup, Vil looking down and seeing it was empty.

Oh.

He hands it to you, doing his best to make it so that your fingers would brush in the most accidental way possible.

“In my own opinion, as well as the opinion of others, I think you are the fairest out of everyone in the school.”

The air in Vil’s lungs gets caught in his throat.

“No joke. The way you carry yourself, the effort you put into everything you are a part of. Even the potato comments are almost...endearing? Potato plants produce rather pretty flowers, right? Maybe you are just trying to get the flowers inside of us to bloom as well?”

He is staring.

He is staring and not saying anything. You had left him without speech.

“But in the end your opinion will be the one that matters most to you. I just hope that it will always be positive.” you scratch the back of your head and yawn, “I’m going to grab a glass of water and head back to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your eyes are still meeting his as a small flush adorned your cheeks, probably embarrassed by what you had just said. Or he would like to think you would be embarrassed, if this was any regular love story he would stand up and grab your wrist and keep you from running away from him before cupping your face and leaning in--

“Good night, Vil-senpai.”

"Goodnight."

You who always knew what to say, you who always had an answer to the problem at hand.

Where were you?

His eyes start looking around for your figure, hands itching and brain running slower than it ever had before. Maybe you would make it better? No, you would make it better. You would go over to him and smile before saying that the competition hadn’t even started and just because that song seemed to be moving everyone under a stupid nostalgia spell, Vil’s hardwork would shine through. Neige hadn’t taken everything from him, not just yet.

Vil feels the weight on his shoulders lessen when he looks at you only for it to double when he sees your face.

You were smiling, humming along to the silly melody as your head bobbed up and down.

Even in practice your gaze remained fixed on them, yet with Neige you seemed to feel that infectious, annoying melody and enjoying it?

“What’s wrong? You look pale.”

Had he lost you as well?

“Vil...Vil?”

The first time he had been left speechless was because of you.

“...Nothing. Don’t worry.” he turns his back to Rook, “It’s not worth seeing their performance. I will be in the waiting room.”

Vil walks away, so many thoughts clouding his head as he replays the words you had said to him.

Who the hell cared about his opinion when yours was just as important?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #pomefiore #vil x reader #twst mc #Im in love with Vil dont look at me #available books

[stereostevie]

When you think of grunge, do you picture a bunch of long-haired White guys in plaid shirts, singing about teenage angst and self-loathing? Time to expand that viewpoint. Standing above them all should be Tina Bell, a tiny Black woman with an outsized stage presence, and her band, Bam Bam. It’s only recently that the 1980s phenom has begun to be recognized as a godmother of grunge.

This modern genre’s sound was, in many ways, molded by a Black woman. The reason she is mostly unknown has everything to do with racism and misogyny. Looking back at the beginnings of grunge, with the preconception that “everybody involved” was White and/or male, means ignoring the Black woman who was standing at the front of the line.

Bam Bam was formed as a punk band in 1983 in Seattle. Bell, a petite brown-skinned spitfire with more hairstyle changes than David Bowie, sang lead vocals and wrote most of the lyrics. Her then-husband Tommy Martin was on guitars (the band’s name is an acronym of their last names: Bell And Martin), Scotty “Buttocks” Ledgerwood played bass, and Matt Cameron was on drums. Cameron would leave the band in its first year and go on to fame as the drummer for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. But he paid homage to his beginnings by wearing a Tina Bell T-shirt in a photoshoot for Pearl Jam’s 2017 Anthology: the Complete Scores book.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word] And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch.”

Bam Bam’s sound straddled the line between punk and something so new that it didn’t have a name yet. Their music combined a driving, thrumming bass line; downtuned, sludgy guitars; thrashy, pulsing drums; melodic vocals that range from sultry to haunting to screamy; and lyrics about the existential tension of trying to exist in a world not designed for you. The band’s 1984 music video for their single “Ground Zero” is low-budget, but Bell’s charisma seeps through.

“She was fucking badass. That’s all there is to it. She was amazing as a performer. I’ve only seen one White male lead singer command the stage in a similar way that Tina Bell did, and that was Bon Scott of AC/DC,” says Om Johari, who attended Bam Bam shows as a Black teenager in the ’80s and who would go on to lead all-female AC/DC cover band Hell’s Belles.

Christina King, a Seattle scenester who was close friends with Bell from 1984 until the early ’90s, says the singer’s talent was obvious. But she believes a lot of people dismissed Bell as a gimmick.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam.

“I remember one person saying to me that they didn’t get ‘the whole Black girl singer thing,’ it just didn’t fit whatever they were into,” says King. “They were too ahead of their time.”

Bam Bam came into being in an era when hundreds of underground clubs, taverns, bars, and social halls — anywhere that you could cram in a band — were within the Seattle city limits. Bam Bam played almost all of them, and often to big crowds: The Colourbox, Crocodile Lounge, Gorilla Gardens, Squid Row — just to name a few.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of history-making grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. Not to mention all the other people, mostly White and male, who would become prime targets for music labels trying to market this new sound.

Bell “already possessed everything they were trying to attain. She had a truer rock and roll spirit than almost any of those guys in that town. Everything they tried to do, she naturally was,” says Ledgerwood, still a loyal bandmate.

One Seattle club, The Metropolis, became “like our fucking living room,” says Ledgerwood. It was also the site of an overtly racist verbal assault against Tina Bell.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word],” Ledgerwood recalls. “And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch… She nailed that fucker right in the temple of his head. Split like a melon. And the other guy next to him caught it too, they go down, and we’re like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Ledgerwood says that after going backstage for a while to regroup, Bell came back “and put out the most blistering set of our fucking career.”

This could easily be an anecdote about Bell’s power, her resilience, and willingness to fight back against oppressive forces. But it’s also a story about the cost of being a Black woman who does something that some people don’t expect or approve of.

“She’s being pulled out of her zone because somebody is acknowledging how the rest of the world can see her,” says Johari, empathizing with the star rocker. “And even to react to it by picking up a microphone and smashing someone in the face, that means that that incident cost her not only that moment it takes to get back into the song, but the whole [effects of her] action will last for weeks.

“She’ll replay that over and over and over and over again. And then the people she sees that were there when it happened, they’re gonna come up to her and they’re gonna forget everything that she’s saying, all the stuff that she had did, and they’re only going to focus on, ‘I was at that show where you knocked a dude in the head for calling you an N-word,’” Johari says. “It has nothing to do with her artistry. But it reminds her of the way in which she has to be prepared, just in case it happens again.”

King remembers Bell also felt that some of the other men in the band’s changing lineup failed to treat her as an equal partner: “She’s getting that from her own band members — what do you think audience people are like?”

A European tour in the late ’80s gained Bam Bam international fans, but ended after Bell and Martin split up, and Bell was caught in an immigration enforcement dragnet in the Netherlands.

When they returned to the Pacific Northwest, Bam Bam continued playing shows until 1990, when Bell abruptly quit as they were packing up to head to the studio in Portland, Ore.

“She had just had enough,” Ledgerwood says. “For almost eight years she had almost literally eviscerated herself for the audience.”

But that work never resulted in the national recognition they deserved.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it.”

“Sometimes you need to be a little bit of an asshole to protect yourself. And Bell wasn’t much of an asshole,” Ledgerwood adds. “She was a pure-hearted person and had a really hard time believing that people couldn’t accept her over something as stupid as race.”

Bell didn’t just quit the band, she withdrew from music completely, says her son, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker TJ Martin. Not out of resentment, he adds, but perhaps to escape the painful reminders that the music she helped pioneer was now earning other bands multimillion-dollar record contracts.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it,” Martin says. “I can’t even fathom what that would feel like for it to be sort of spit back in your face with such frequency.”

Ledgerwood believes Bell died of a broken heart. But when Bell died alone in her Las Vegas apartment in 2012, the official cause of death listed was cirrhosis of the liver. She had struggled with alcohol and depression. Her son says the coroner estimated her time of death as a couple weeks before her body was discovered. She was 55 years old.

The things that could have told Tina Bell’s story in her own voice are lost. Martin arrived in Las Vegas to find that the contents of his mother’s apartment — except for a DVD player, a poster, and a chair — had been thrown away. All of her writings — lyrics, poems, diaries — along with Bam Bam music, videos, and other memorabilia — went in the trash without her family even being notified.

If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.

“I couldn’t help draw a parallel between her not being respected and seen in the first chapter of her life, as the front person of a punk band, and then even in death being disrespected and not being seen for the merits of the life she lived,” says Martin.

Bell’s death is also an indictment of the way she was written out of her own story. The way grunge’s almighty gatekeepers chose to look through her instead of at her. Grunge became the domain of alienated young White men in flannel shirts, and Tina Bell didn’t fit the narrative they were trying to sell.

“Black herstory can suffer immense amounts of erasure if somebody is not brave enough to ensure that women get counted,” Johari says.

To many of those who were part of the scene at the time, the amnesia seems intentional. Ledgerwood brings up the seminal history of Seattle’s grunge era, Everybody Loves Our Town. In it, the author refers to Bam Bam as a three-piece instrumental band mainly notable because Matt Cameron was the drummer. Tina Bell isn’t even mentioned.

“How in the hell would he have a recollection of how great Bam Bam and its drummer was, and not this unbelievably beautiful woman, this firecracker, this explosive rock and roll goddess?” Ledgerwood asks. “Even if he thought she sucked, to not remember the only Black woman on the whole fuckin’ scene is — well, it’s like that old joke about the ’60s: If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.”

You can listen to more of Bam Bam’s music on this Spotify playlist. A vinyl album with the band’s songs is coming out this year on Bric-a-Brac Records.

#Alice in Chains #Bam Bam #black history #black women #black women in rock #grunge #Kurt Cobain #music #Nirvana #Pearl Jam #rock #Seattle #Soundgarden #Tina Bell #women in rock #women's history #80s

[sleeping-lilies]

robin era jason, dick, and babs headcanons because there’s too much comedic potential to ignore

- dick and babs were the ultimate gossip buddies. whenever dick was with the titans for long periods of time, babs always filled him in on everything

babs: dick you’ll never believe what hal said to bruce last night, i even have videos. dick, the look on his face please—

dick, immediately locking doors so his teammates don’t hear the mad shit about to be dropped on main: tell me everything

- vice versa too, dick filled babs in on everything going on with the titans and all they can say is thank god those lines are bat secured with no villains being able to listen in, imagine deathstroke hearing through bat gossip that joey’s dating who?!?! 😳

- batkids have been and always will be the holder of superhero gossip. it’s a business, you see, but we’re getting off topic 😡

- lmfao anyways this is literally how dick finds out about jason

babs: anyways, jason—

dick: who the fuck is jason

babs: ....

dick: barbara?!?!

babs: ok promise you won’t freak out

- babs and dick’s first reaction upon meeting jason being “why is he so small i wasnt that small” “dick you were literally nine when you were robin—“ “he’s tiny” it’s like those two share the same braincell

- i’m making it so that dick gave jason his number earlier because i feel like it 😡😡😡 (not that it changes much other than the fact that i want more gossip dropped in dm’s)

- when dick gave jason his number, he went to babs like “give me jason’s number” “didn’t you literally just give him your’s?” “ya but i’m gonna make sure he texts me” “ya ok that’s fair”

- whenever jason didn’t want to be in the manor (fight with bruce, boredom, etc) he went to wherever the fuck babs lived and they would facetime dick and talk mad shit. it was a thing.

- despite them all being able to drive, babs was the only one during this time with an actual, legitimate, legal license (jason was too young to have a license and dick is too lazy/busy/whatever-excuse-he-wants-to-use to take the permit and driving test) so babs drove them around everywhere and it was a mess™ consisting of a bunch of backseat drivers

- “dick omg look at this video i found from the batcave” “omg he said robin gives him magic” “robin gives him magic” they both cry about it for years to come

- babs sometimes kidnapped jason after school after telling the head of wayne manor (alfred) and took him to get ice cream, then to the library while she worked. jason was the greatest kid in the library, he even had his own throne special chair just for him whenever he came provided by library staff who adored this absolute angel.

- jason 🤝 babs 🤝 dick -> i believe in annoying yet endearing nicknames supremacy

- nicknames include (some used by some more than others or just one, or by both equally because they’re annoying pick and choose my good people)

little wing (iconic, we all know this one fellas and who uses it)

red (used for babs, absolutely fantastic, but in the future it gets confusing because some people with their goddamn hero names 😡)

boy wonder (classic, babs calls them both that)

barbie (for babs, jason uses this one and he’s the only one able to get away with it)

dickie (jason just really gets away with everything huh)

dickhead (jason’s lucky he’s cute)

baba black sheep (jeez i’m on a roll with babs’ nicknames she’s so nickname-able and that’s very cool and sexy of her)

jay z

jay allen

jay jay jay (shut up, dickhead—)

big bird

and a bunch more i’m too tired to look for them in canon or make new ones up, but you get the idea

- dick can totally bake, and babs and jason keep bugging him when he’s baking and add more chocolate chips while pretending to not notice that he can see them 😡😡😡

- headcanon that jason had hero worship for babs and dick because they’re so cool in and out of costume and it never really went away when he got older listen his older brother and pseudo sister are so cool and that’s not his fault but he’ll never admit it

- barbie movie marathons because barbie is an iconic legend and they all recognize it. they have the fucking “she’s the queen of the WA-A-A-AVES” song memorized along with all other barbie movie songs, they sing it on patrol.

- dick and jason’s sibling dynamic was and is basically “ur a little shit and i hate you but i will literally kill for you”

- dick had tension with bruce while jason was just a little shit who would totally cause drama for the sake of it, and people never take advantage of this absolute power duo for destroying bruce

- dick sending cryptid texts to jason through a burner phone because he’s dramatic jason totally knew it was him about things that drive bruce mad, like leaving the shower turned to the coldest setting before bruce got there, leaving the lights in the batcave on, etc. jason, a wise little child, totally took advantage of this. bruce came to accept his fate

- the gc names, guys the group chat names

- jason crashing into titans tower whenever he wants and dick doesn’t bat (hAH) an eye, occasionally he very sweetly asks babs to come with him and she agrees but only sometimes because some people have jobs, jason—wait dick is being flirted with by who?!?! i’ll leave it up to your imagination ;) and they totally crashed titans missions too

- one time bruce was busy with the league while alfred was on vacation and bruce absolutely could not dip (i’m imagining bruce getting a call from the headmaster during an honest to god fight and bruce just picking up while punching the daylights out of some asshole) (“mr wayne, what is that noise in the background?” “sorry, headmaster, the cat is having a seizure”), so when jason got into a “fight” (read: some jackass picking on jason before he snapped and yelled at him and the bitchass kid tried to punch him and jason’s no quitter) bruce called dick who was an adult and legally family (yes dick is adopted sometime after jason was, stay mad) like “son... son please” and dick was like “oh no need to plead with me, this is too good” but of course this bitchass doesn’t have an actual lisence yet and he was hanging out with babs anyways so he and babs rolled up to gotham academy and the kids stared at them like “holy shit they’re so cool” ya dick and babs are those power couple, whether romantic or not, that turn heads, they’re just that powerful strolled into the office, bailed jason out while intimidating the headmaster because the altercation was the result of school staff negligence of actual bullying like those cliche tropes, said “ayyy you got that brat good” and get him chili dogs or whatever the fandom made robin jason’s favorite food. omg i just made an entire fanfic in rough draft form someone please steal it and write it in full form and send me the link

- jason is very very tiny, you see. babs and dick pick him up and move him for any reason, whether because they want to sit on that chair or to just throw him out of harm’s way and take the bullet for themselves.

- jason and dick both get adorable blushes on their faces it’s genetic yes that’s how genetics work shut up meanwhile babs’ ears turn red when she’s embarrassed and all three of them clown each other for it

- i yelled about this to my mutual (cough cough @littlespaceboii) who also added to this absolute dogshit headcanon and then in the discord full of mutuals, but the basement of wayne manor is haunted. dick found it when he was a little gremlin (i stand by that dick was the original demon child) (“you see damian, before there was you there was me” the real reason he was good with damian lmfao) and was like “omg this is so cool” @littlespaceboii came up with that it was just alfred fucking with bruce and so when jason first came and dick was comfy around him he was like “so have you been in the basement” and jason was like “im literally robin i’ve been in the batcave?!?!” and dick goes “no the basement, the haunted one” and jason’s like “hAUNTED?!?!” cuz jason has at least some self preservations and knows not to fuck with the spookies until he too became a spooky and bruce was like “there’s no ghost it’s not haunted” because he’s a skeptic and a party pooper and babs is like “no go on let him finish” even though she knows full well there are no ghosts or does she? and uhhhh basically they becomes ghostbusters 2.0 but cooler and funnier

- this trio is basically baby pan/bisexual jason and two resident expert pan/bisexuals solidarity but that’s literally canon. they go to pride every year that jason’s alive what who said that?

- they all tease each other for their crushes like all siblings/family friends do, i don’t need to say it but it’s important that’s emphasized for my well being

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals who added onto this absolute train wreck too, but jason used to play baseball during his robin days, and dick never showed up to those games with being busy as an excuse, but babs always showed up with bruce and alfred and took pictures for dick so dick could be like “mlb players are jobless now that little wing is on the scene” babs (and sometimes bruce) always shouted loudest for jason whether he was in the field or in the dugout and jason would get this extremely adorable blush on his face (jason finds out in the future why dick never showed up (cough cough ptsd from two face’s massive baseball bat which led to everything that came after including being fired and veangance academy and nearly killing two face and omg that’s a ride) and is like oh my god my childhood is even more ruined—)

- remember when i said dick got adopted after jason did in this new absolutely fabulous canon i just created? bruce did that because “ahhh fuck that’s my kid and i want him to know i love him through every means possible since i have the ability to do so” i believe in good dad bruce supremacy and made a whole thing where he invited dick to dinner for like a week to work up the courage and bonding to ask him and show him the adoption papers and then everyone cried :) bruce decided to finally adopt dick after jason referred to dick as his brother and bruce was like “...oh” and alfred was like 👀

- dick, as the first child hero and one of the first heroes period like at least a year or two before babs, holds the “back in my day” card over literally everyone in the hero community in general and pulls it out to annoy babs and jason even tho babs literally joined the scene only a year or two after dick

jason, shaking in his panties: it’s so fucking cold

dick, standing strong in his tits out outfit, who had to wear the panties on his own decision: oh, you’re cold? back in my day—

babs, throwing her boot at his face: god shut the fuck up—

and then dick doesn’t give back her boot and it becomes a whole thing with lots of tackling and play fighting and someone nearly gets thrown off they rooftop for funsies but anyways

also on a side note, babs would take off her cape and wrap it around jason whenever she noticed his discomfort with the weather, or use the weather as an excuse whenever she saw him uneasy for whatever reason and they never mention it to each other

- yelled about this in the discord to the mutuals at some point too holy shit i have friends, but those three are team rocket. they went out as team rocket for halloween one year after bullying bruce to let jason out only jason because he can’t tell dick and babs what to do and jason is under his care and when they do convince him, dick and babs bully jason into being meowth. manifesting jason in a meowth onesie ARTISTS PLEASE—

- dick finally took his license seriously and took his driver’s test after babs became paralyzed.

- those were a rough few months for those three. and then another rough few months for those two

- yikes, sorry to throw angst at you (sorry (unfeeling)) anyways, in the future alfred finds those old photos and shows the rest of the fam, so dick and babs bully jason, 6’2 jason that towers way above both of them, and once again bullies him into being meowth “for tradition, little wing!” “shut up, dickhead” the rest of the batkids lose their shit over this, naturally. bruce and alfred stand in the back teary eyed reminiscing the old days when things were a little more simple.

- discowing walked so terrifying handsome squidward red hood helmet could run (even tho the ugly helmet tripped and fell and missed the mark because discowing wasn’t ugly and will always remain superior, i feel i have committed a terrible crime comparing the two)

dick: jason what the fuck is that

jason: it’s fashion

dick: it’s terrifying

jason: i’m only following in my older brother’s footsteps 😔

dick: listen here, you little shit strangles him haha just kidding that illegal wait theyre vigilantes they don’t follow the law—

- these three and cass refer to the rest of the batkids as “the kids” (if she’s older than jason, sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t and i’m really confused but whatever)

- babs and dick’s relationship with jason pre death literally shaped how jason treats his siblings post pit madness like he literally goes “what would red and big bird do?!??” when he needs to go into big brother mode over the “little ones” (“little” because tim and steph are adults and duke is nearly an adult himself oh my god he’ll graduate from high school soon and jason never got to do that himself he’s totally going to the ceremony legally dead or not) 🥺

- holy trinity continue hanging out with each other, whether lunch or games or whatever, and just enjoy each other’s company after long, rough years

#i believe in meowth jason supremacy #license is spelled differently every time i type it is it license or lisence #oh whatever i’m failing anyways #good dad bruce because and reconciled bruce and dick father son dynamic because good dad bruce and extremely bitter son dick cannot exist #in the same realm #like it literally ruins dick’s whole character and makes him look like a brat when that’s literally not what happened #I MADE A FUCKING TYPO NOOO #OK ANYWAYS #dick grayson #jason todd #barbara gordon #oracle #batgirl #red hood #robin #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #alfred pennyworth #headcanons #batfam #batfam headcanons #dc comics #3am blue strikes again #long post #mine

[catintheruemorgue]

Random azz headcanons!!

warning: suicide on dazai’s part (very last one), swearing

an: in one whole day i’ve been told i may have covid, my wallet got stolen (tho they only took my bank card and id), my car wouldn’t start and i got bad news but honestly this was just a normal day for me!! (i literally have the worst luck it’s almost funny) anyways i thought of stupid social media headcanons.. this is mainly just crack !! :)

•the ADA have game nights and sometimes play among us (rarely because if Ranpo plays he just calls an emergency meeting and calls out the imposter, “Atsushi your leg is shaking..” so it’s only when he’s too sleepy to join.) If Dazai and Kunikida get imposter duo Dazai will accuse Kunikida immediately but not even for the kill he’ll just say he vented in front of him, which then in turn causes kunikida to start yelling that it's him. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBJbyuspGVo) think this clip.

•Ranpo once found Poe’s myspace from when he was 16 and proceeded to almost bust a lung at all the edgy poetry and how he called his followers his “Ravens” The best part though, was the profile picture. As if Ranpo hadn't humiliated him enough he printed it out and framed it on his work desk. Poe just about passed out seeing the very photo that haunted his memories sitting on his rivals desk for everyone to see-- Poe in a black hoodie, hood pulled up with one eye covered. The word “pain” was edited across the photo in gothic, cursive looking font.

•Mark Twain loves the song Breakeven by The Script. (this isnt social media but so fucking important.)

•If it weren't for opposing sides Chuuya and Mark would be best friends. Chuuya loves his adventurous attitude and thinks the guy is just really awesome. They would have sleepovers where they would sing songs like Fuck You by Ceelo Green and Gives You Hell by All-American Rejects. Chuuya always posts them belting the lyrics on his story on snapchat and when people from the Port Mafia slide up and say something along the lines of “uhhh? This is sus..” Chuuya sends back a huge paragraph on how they are just jealous they don't have an amazing best friend like he does, and that they should be careful, he's still their superior.

•Yosano constantly is fighting with racists and bigots on facebook and will always talk to Atsushi about it for hours. He's awkward but thankful that she keeps him informed. She's very good at arguing and will rip apart disrespectful men when given the chance but has a hard time fighting women. When it comes to fighting a woman she will recruit Ranpo to sit over her shoulder and give her advice on what to say. Some of the things will warrant a light smack to the head.

•Mori’s most used app is Turbo Tax and nobody knows why.

•Oda loves to leave long in depth reviews for items he's purchased, he doesn't even try to be funny but sometimes Dazai sends him screenshots saying “Is this your review?”

•Gin, Tachihara and Hirotsu all downloaded Life 360 and have fun tracking where each other are. All of them have labeled the Port Mafia headquarters as “Hell”. Also Tachi and Hirotsu would get so confused when Gin was always with Akutagawa after hours.

•Kouyou has a blog where she helps people solve their issues. She's rarely on it but when she is she's always giving the best advice. She also reviews soaps and oils.

•Fitzgerald got doxxed and freaked out because he didn't know that was a thing. He immediately replied with “How do you know that ?” Not knowing there could be consequences for bullying for kids online.

•Atsushi accidentally joined a pyramid scheme but when he tried to sell Yosano something she was there, again, to inform him that it was an MLM. “No Atsushi-kun, that one's not good either.” Much better than Tanazaki who didn't know any better (and bought so much stuff) or Dazai who just thought it was funny.

•Poe has a snapchat but has left people on delivered for weeks to months at a time. The only person he actually responds to is Ranpo, but even then sometimes he leaves him on read (very rarely).

•Fyodor always starts his posts with, “unpopular opinion but..” and if he doesn't like someone's statement he’ll end whatever he has to say with, “Spit.” With an eye rolling emoji.

•One time Akutagawa made a bare ass instagram just to dm Atsushi, “I will get you.” The tiger boy just added Dazai to the chat who, for the hell of it, added Chuuya and proceeded to cuss them both out. Not surprisingly Atsushi had to beg Dazai and Chuuya to block one another while ignoring Akutagawa’s threats.

•Dazai is only famous on twitter because his suicidal tweets are “relatable” and because he’s attractive. He actually secretly gets super pissed because he doesn’t think his pain is “relatable” but will tease people with remarks like, “Make way, celebrity coming through!” when he shows up late for work.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd poe #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #bsd yosano #bsd ranpo #bsd mori #bsd kouyou #bsd mark twain #bsd gin #bsd tachihara #bsd hirotsu #bsd fyodor #bsd fitzgerald #bsd akutagawa #black lizard #bungou stray dogs

[hotdogct]

as dreamers do ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: fluff words: 2.2k a/n: hello!!! this is my first piece of writing in a very long time, so apologies if its all over the place/makes no sense!!! obviously this is all a work of fiction, disclaimer, blablabla, idk what i’m doing i just wanted to write drabbles about nct lmao, so with that being said!!!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you trust me?”

You roll your eyes in the direction of your coworker, Jaemin, who was sitting across from you in the fluorescent lit break room located just behind Splash Mountain’s gift shop and exit. The two of you were part of the massive workforce of college aged youth that Disney recruited every year to staff their theme parks and resorts. While you weren’t initially thrilled with your role as a custodian, you learned to appreciate its quirks - and that included the unique cast of characters otherwise known as your coworkers. From the full-timers that did their best to ignore your presence, knowing another semester would just bring a fresh wave of new faces, to your fellow program cohorts - Jaemin being one of them.

Assuming he was just quoting Aladdin at you, you offer no response to Jaemin’s initial query and continue scrolling through your phone, shoveling the few remaining cheese crackers from the nearby vending machine down your throat, intending on savoring the remaining minutes of your last break for the evening.

Your thoughts wandered back to your fellow cast members. There was Daehwi, sheltered and away from home for the first time, affectionately nicknamed ‘baby’ by everyone he befriended. Wendy, with her melodic voice and cheerful disposition, eager to break into song at a moments notice. Lucas, who might’ve come to Florida to party first, but worked equally hard. Hani, who arrived a few weeks after you, always the first to come help when you radio that your restroom has overflowed, again. Even Jinho, who had initially fooled you with his youthful looks before revealing this was his third time through the program, had somehow wormed his way into your heart. But nobody had been as captivating as Jaemin. When you first met him in passing in the cramped break room, you were convinced casting had made a mistake, that he was lost on his way to costuming for entertainment. He certainly looked like a prince - perfectly straight teeth, boyishly handsome good looks. A few days later he was assigned to clean the same bathrooms as you - “bathroom buddies” as everyone affectionately would call the practice. There, in the shared stockrooms, you learned who Jaemin was beyond his beautiful face - how his friends back home called him Nana, that he was studying photography in college, that he was an only child, a helluva flirt. Even your music tastes were similar, a fact you discovered on one of the many cramped, late night bus rides back to program housing where the two of you stood packed shoulder to shoulder, like sardines in a can. Jaemin interacted with guests both young and young at heart with an effortless charm and grace. Your managers loved him immediately, and before you knew it, you found yourself incredibly enamored with him too.

It wasn’t until his hand suddenly broke through your field of vision, blocking sight of your phone, that you realized Jaemin had stood up and was now standing directly in front of you. His head covered the harshest of the overhead lights, casting a soft halo glow around his black, messy hair and broad shoulders. He smiles down at you, innocently, and you feel your heartbeat accelerate when your eyes meet his own.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, again. This time, without thought, you place your hand firmly in his.

******

Jaemin leads you out of the blinding light of the break room silently, into the dark of the early winter evening. Eyes still adjusting, you follow behind him, thankful that your corner of the park was mostly deserted - Splash Mountain still closed for the season, only a few stragglers were coming and going to use the restroom in the area. You vaguely remember that Jaemin had been assigned a nearby zone to clean that evening - which was it again…?

He leads you up a flight up stairs, then, and that’s when it hits you. Train Zone. The Frontierland Railroad Station. It was an easy zone to clean, as the railroad shut down early each night before the fireworks display. Gathering the trash in an empty zone like this was a godsend, especially when compared to the other ride queues you had to clean, oftentimes fighting constant guest traffic like a fish swimming upstream.

Lost in your thoughts, you follow behind Jaemin as he completes his task diligently, making sure each trash can within the train station is empty and re-bagged for the next morning. It had been a few days since the two of you had worked in neighboring areas, and you often found yourself tongue tied when around him. The background music loop of Frontierland was noticeably absent, the speakers within the station shut off for the night. This led to Jaemin singing nonsense songs while tying up trash bags and wiping down surfaces, dancing lightly on his feet.

Turkey leg-g-g

At the train

D-d-d-driving me insane~

All you could do was laugh at his antics, and before you knew it, the nearby banana boat parked at the exit ramp was full of trash bags. Satisfied with the results of your hard work, you were about to begin the walk to backstage, where the dumpsters were located, when Jaemin turned about face, walking instead towards the train station.

“What are you doing?!” you hiss, not wanting to shout but needing to stress your confusion at his actions. Jaemin stops at the gate, unlatches it, before turning around, beckoning you over with a smile.

“I asked you if you trusted me, didn’t I?” his voice low in your ear upon your arrival at his side, banana boat now parked safely out of any guest traffic. Jaemin unlocks the gate for you, both of you falling silent on your walk back up into the depths of the train station - no more cute, silly songs spilling from his lips.

“Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught?” your voice carries louder than intended across the empty room as you go through the turnstile, and you wince.

Jaemin’s boisterous laugh took you by surprise, followed a moment later by his hand ruffling the top of your head, messing up your hair. As if to say, foolish.

“Getting the trash from up here is technically our responsibility. So what if it took us a little long?”

He was right - the best part of your job was the agency it provided. Sure, you were cleaning up garbage and bathrooms and vomit, but you could walk around freely. Explore hidden corners and crevices of the park. You knew all too well the allures of the shared hallway between the Frontierland restrooms, the stock closet next to the Veranda breezeway, the dumpster behind the Haunted Mansion - places the rest of your desperately horny coworkers had used to hook up in weeks prior. As you follow Jaemin around a corner towards the front of the station, through an open passageway, you wonder if that’s what he has in mind. That is, until you see the view in front of you.

Jaemin had led you to a small balcony that overlooked the whole expanse of Frontierland. From above you could spot guests walking about the park to and fro, the Rivers of America flowing gently behind them in the distance. Bits and pieces of Cinderella’s Castle were visible through the tree line, shining bright in multicolor as the nightly projection show proceeded to play.

“Jaem, it’s….”

“Nice, isn’t it?” He finishes your thought for you, his hand brushing over the staged decorations of fake barrels and crates against the wall of the balcony that seemed perfect to sit upon. Moments later, Jaemin plops down with a satisfied smile on his face and pats the space beside him, silently asking you to join him.

“Nice is an understatement” you offer in reply. A small laugh leaves his lips, a breeze rolls through. For just a moment, it is quiet and still.

“I’ve been wanting to show you this place for a while, but the stars just never aligned right until tonight.”

“You mean, the computer system that automates scheduling and staffing didn’t randomly place us in neighboring areas of the park until to-” Jaemin’s stiff elbow into your side lets you know to drop the wit. That you could do, but a question lingered in your mind, still, and you did have to voice your sole concern.

“How do you not get caught up here?”

Jaemin turns around, points to the solitary light on the balcony, and it’s then that you notice the bulb is off. You might feel exposed looking down upon everyone, but quickly realize that nobody is looking up at the closed train station - let alone looking for two cast members in white uniforms in the dark, goofing off on a weeknight.

Fooling around…

You were thankful for the cover of darkness in that moment, as you felt your cheeks turn crimson at the thought. Being alone, with Jaemin, this close, in the dark...This all seemed very sudden, despite everyone knowing about your big crush on Nana - he had to know too?

“So,” Jaemin’s voice cuts through your ever-racing thoughts, and your chest goes cold. “A little birdie told me there’s something you really, really like…”

If jumping off the balcony was a safe option, in that moment, you would’ve taken it. A confirmation of your worst fears - that Jaemin was aware of your ridiculous, schoolgirl like crush on him. You are speechless, sunken, pulse racing, and terrified.

Without the usual cue of area music, caught up in the last hour, you had missed your usual clues. A loud boom caused you to jump in your seat, out of your brain, head immediately turning towards Jaemin - only to make eye contact with him, bright lights reflecting off the surface, who smiles and motions for you to turn around. Of course.

If you were known for one thing amongst your cohorts, it was that you loved fireworks. Even on the most hectic of nights you found a way to make sure you were outside during the nightly display, never taking for granted that you were being paid to watch the sky light up in time to music. You had your favorite spots to watch from, but had never once considered the train station. From the corner of Frontierland, it felt like the fireworks were almost on top of you - cascading down upon Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, the expanse of empty night sky providing the perfect canvas. As the speakers above you were silent, there was no accompanying soundtrack, but it didn’t matter - you knew the whole show by heart. You were unaware of how long your mouth had been hanging open in blissful, childlike wonder, only noticing when Jaemin gently pressed his finger up against your chin, closing the space between your upper and lower lip through simple momentum. Moments later, his hand brushed over yours, testing the waters, and finding no complaint, interlocked his fingers with yours, and gravity pulls your head to his shoulder. A soft, steady hum leaves his lips, as you settle into this newfound bliss.

The rest of the fireworks show plays out in front of the two of you - two white ghosts in a dark shadow, illuminated by glowing streaks and bursts of color from the night sky. You’re working at the most magical place on earth, sure, but this felt like the most magical moment of your life.

Before you know it, the sky calms again, signaling the end of the show. You remain frozen for a moment, not wanting to leave. When you finally stand back up, awkwardly untangling yourself from Jaemin’s frame in a rushed manner, you can almost feel yourself floating back down to the ground, back to reality. Jaemin, your co-worker, Jaemin the flirt. He brought you up here just to watch the fireworks after all. Had you been a bit more outgoing, a bit less awkward, maybe...

Taking a few steps towards the entryway, a sudden hand on your wrist pulls you against the wall - thankfully, out of sight of any guests, but now engulfing your entire body in shadow. And it’s here in the darkness that Jaemin’s hand releases itself from your wrist, finds its way up to your cheek. Here, he leans in and kisses you - pressing his chapped lips against yours gently, but with enough intent and purpose that you swear you were seeing stars after a few moments. It doesn’t last long, as all fairytales would tell you. When you part, Jaemin rests his forehead against yours, both slightly damp from the Florida humidity, and you can feel him smile against you, somehow breathless, letting out a low chuckle, before asking,

“Did you think I was talking about the fireworks?”

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff