hii :) this is my first time writing on here, so please be kind to me. i do appreciate constructive criticism though!
a/n: while there isn’t any smut in this, there are some suggestive themes. there is also mention of anxiety
ANXIOUS MY LOVE?
jack champion x reader
He was spiraling. You could see it in his eyes, as soon as you looked over at him. He was freaking and you weren’t quite sure how to help. You couldn’t quite tell how deep in his thoughts he was at the moment.
You knew you needed to get him somewhere quiet though. Somewhere away from the prying eyes of reporters surrounding the red carpet.
“Hey, Jack? Hey-“ You pause as he meets your eyes. The whites of his tinged with pink from holding back tears. A soft worried smile makes its way to your face, and you place a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m gonna get you somewhere a little more quiet, okay?” All he can manage to do for now is nod.
You’re not sure if it’s the bright lights, the shouting from every direction, maybe even the nerves of everyone he loves watching the premiere of his new movie. Maybe it’s all of that and then some, but there’s one thing you know for a fact and that is he’s on the verge of an anxiety attack. You make quick steps to find the entrance of the building the premiere is being held in, avoiding the yells from cameramen trying to get pictures of your boyfriend.
You finally make it inside and find a quiet room, pushing him inside quickly, before locking the door making sure no one can disturb you two. “I’m just gonna let your mom know what’s going on. I don’t want her to panic when she can’t find us.”
After sending her a quick text, you stand in front of Jack, taking his hands into your own. “You wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?” You tilt your head a bit to look up at him, making eye contact so he knows he has your full undivided attention.
He’s leaning against a counter, big brown eyes staring straight into yours.
“It’s just a lot at once. This is my first big movie role, you know. I’m worried about disappointing you and disappointing my mom.
What if I’m a shit actor and this is all I’m ever gonna get because I suck so bad at doing the one thing I love.” Jack pauses, pulling you closer to his body, wrapping his arms completely around you and lays his head on top of yours before continuing.
“I just- We all have spent so much of our time on this movie. And not just the cast and crew, I’m talking about my mom too. She’s done so much for me. She’s given so much of her time for me.” He takes a breath in, his words getting caught in his throat.
“And you-“ He pauses again, moving his hands to cup your face. He smiles, his dimples peeking through, and then places a soft kiss to your lips. “You have been nothing but supportive, patient, and shown me nothing but love.”
You can hear the emotion in his voice. You can see the tears he’s trying his best to hold back. You can feel the slight shake in his hands.
“I’m terrified right now, baby. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
You place your hands on top of his, still resting on your cheeks. “Jack, I love you, okay? Your mom loves you too. And I’m willing to bet, she’d agree with me when i say, you could never disappoint us. We know how much you put into this. We know how hard you’ve worked.
You remember that little music video you made for school? About the pythagorean theorem.” A blush coats the apples of his cheeks, you know he hates that video. You love it though.
“Do you know how proud I was of you when you made that? You stepped outside of your comfort zone, and made something hilarious.” Jack shakes his head and he gives you a small laugh. “My point is, you can’t disappoint us. Cause no matter what you do, we’re gonna keep loving you and cheering you on.”
You move your hand down to his bicep, squeezing it before rubbing it up and down. “I seriously don’t deserve you.” Jack mumbles as he leans down to place another kiss to your lips. This time he deepens it, it lasting a lot longer than the other one. “Yeah, well you can prove your worth later when we’re alone.” You mumble back.
“We’re alone now.”
You push at his chest as his lips move down to your jaw. “I mean later in the privacy of our hotel room. Besides, my very attractive boyfriend is in this movie we’re about to watch. Can’t miss that, now can we?” You take your thumb and wipe away the pink lipgloss from his lips, a little more swollen from the heated kiss you two shared just moments ago. He grabs your hand before you pull it away and places a kiss to the palm of it, before grasping it in his.
“I guess you’re right.” Jack says as he rolls his eyes affectionately. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at him. “But seriously, are you feeling better?” Physically you can tell he is, but you being you needed him to verbally confirm he was okay, before going back out there.
He smiles down at you once again and grabs your chin, kissing you one more time before answering.
“Yes baby, i’m feeling much better because of you.”
“Good! Now let’s go watch little Jack run around with that big ass forehead on display.”
“Oh you’re paying for that one later.” Jack says as he pinches your sides, making you squeal with laughter.
His little threat meant nothing to you, you were just happy he was feeling better.
Tech, Phee, and a Fix-It Fic
Took this post from @ashyybees-art and ran with it, though it totally got away from me. It should have been wayyyy shorter and more simple. But, alas, here we are. Also... this was really hard to write cause I'm not a huge fan of Phee just yet. :/ Sorry. Prolly cause I was elbows deep in my own Tech/OC fanfic when she came onto the scene. But it's a lil somethin to hold us over with a happy headcanon until we get further news in season three. <3
SPOILERS for the season 2 TBB finale!
Phee had always told herself she would be independent. Capable. Self-sufficient. Strong. She didn't need anyone but enjoyed the company of others… a little too much, recently. The squad of "deviant" clones had left a lasting impression in her life that she hadn't quite been able to shake, especially the demeanor and appeal of one bespectacled crew member in particular.
So when she put a tracking beacon on the Marauder, she told herself it was for practicality, for protection. She wasn't one of those clingy sorts who got too attached and fawned over someone; she was a clever and skilled woman who thought of backups and contingency plans for herself and those she… loved? It wasn't something she would utilize unless she absolutely had to; better to have it in place and not need it than to wish she had.
Something felt different the night they left. Omega, typically delighted to share anything and everything with her, had been uncharacteristically cryptic about their covert mission. She'd made an attempt to get a clue from Tech, but he was even more shifty than usual, and eye contact was enough of a struggle to get from him, let alone a straight answer. She couldn't tell if he was distant because of stress or anticipation, or perhaps she had done something to offend him? Perhaps he had changed his mind from the warmth and interest he had shown when they first arrived on Pabu?
Regardless, she had responded to his nervous little goggle adjustment with the typical flutter of the heart and a small smile. She knew him to be incredibly proficient, unassumingly strong, and incomparably intelligent. So they parted with a casual farewell, and she anticipated the next time they would see each other. Perhaps he would share what had been weighing so heavily on him for this particular mission.
She couldn't sleep that night, alternating between tossing and turning with anxious hypotheticals and drifting into periods of sleep that were punctuated with disturbing nightmares. This was unusual, and in the wee hours of the morning she gave up, heading to the balcony of her home to watch the sunrise. It wasn't an obsession, or a need to have him in her sight the whole time… just an undeniable sense of foreboding. She doubted he would react favorably to her shadowing him, but perhaps if he didn't know…
Breakfast found her equally unsuccessful in focusing on anything else. The nagging feeling had only grown, to the point that it was becoming unbearable. She hit her limit. An hour later she was prepped and in her ship, activating the tracking beacon. She'd just take a look, a quick fly-by, to assuage the unrelenting plague of worry.
It wasn't her first time having to sneak past Imperial ships, and she transmitted a trusty clearance code that hadn't failed her yet. As she descended, the radar's beeps came more quickly. She dropped into the atmosphere and her eyes were met with towering rock formations poking above the clouds; it was impossible to tell how far below the planet floor was. Her heart leapt in her chest -- there was the Marauder! It was neatly folded against one of the cliffs, perched on a perfectly-sized ledge. No sign of light or activity, however, so she took a gentle loop to see where they may have gone.
Sudden alarms notified her of the approach of incoming craft, and she peeled away to avoid being seen, diving down toward the forest canopy. Her ship was small and easy to navigate, and she lowered it into a small clearing as a handful of Imperial fighters shot overhead. She whipped out her electrobinoculars, following their path, and the scene that met her eyes made her stomach drop to her feet. Blaster bolts flew between skyrail cars, and the ships pelted them with shots on a fly by before arcing through the air to come around for another run. She spotted Hunter's red bandana leaning out the window of one of the cars as he sent a few shots at the opposite car, and then a swinging figure caught her attention.
She gasped aloud. Tech. Dangling far below the cars by a single wire, attempting to climb but moving too slowly as the fighters approached yet again. Her mind raced. What could she do? She wouldn't be able to launch fast enough before they came by again, and even if she did, she would likely be shot down, outnumbered as she was. Before she had the chance to think of any other options, a single blaster bolt fired from Tech's suspended form, breaking the skyrail coupling, and he began to free fall, along with an entire car following above him.
Simultaneous fear and focus kicked into high gear. She plotted his trajectory, fighting down the waves of nausea that broke upon her, and began to sprint into the forest. The trees and rocks seemed to reach miles into the sky above her, a sickening realization, and she picked up the pace, gasping for air but refusing to slow down.
Crashing through a wall of bushes that scraped along her arms, she let out a cry as she saw his crumpled form ahead, unmistakable with the white armor and colorful accents. His backpack, cracked in half, dangled from a sharp branch above, and his helmet had splintered, scattering shards across the clearing. Collapsing to her knees next to him, she gently rolled him onto his back, taking a sharp inhale at the horror she saw. His fall had been broken only by tree branches, each one leaving a mark as it hit him with full force. One had whipped across his head, shattering his goggles, which dangled from one ear, and horribly disfiguring his face. Dirt mixed with blood and bone, and she fought to maintain consciousness. She didn't know how extensive the damage was, but she had to get him somewhere, anywhere, and fast.
Shapes and shadows, muffled sounds… Waves of pain… Dreams of light, always ending in darkness. Weightlessness and water began to form in his mind. The rhythmic sound of mechanical breathing. But all was dark.
Suddenly, weight returned. He was being moved; the ground was shifting below him. He was lying on his back, as far as he could tell, but movement was nearly impossible. Everything felt so heavy, as if he were made of the thinnest glass and could shatter at a moment's notice. And the darkness, the murkiness. He thought his eyes were open but there was nothing but shadows, appearing from nowhere and startling him, taking form and then melting away.
The whirring sound of servos grew nearer, accompanied by a robotic voice, "CT-9902, can you hear me?"
It took a few swallows to remedy a dry mouth despite the recent emergence from water, and his voice cracked as he spoke, "I can."
"I am your assigned 2-1B medical droid. You have sustained heavy damage."
"Diag… diagnostic report," he breathed, fighting a rising sense of panic at the unresponsiveness of his vision. He tentatively attempted to move fingers and toes, shifting his weight to and fro, but he could see nothing but vague patches of dark and darker. As the droid recounted his injuries, his claustrophobia grew. It was irrational. It served no purpose. But the inability to snap out of it, to look around at his surroundings, felt suffocating. Focusing on the droid's analysis as a way to ground himself, he calculated the possibilities of his future.
It wasn't a fruitful endeavor, nor did it have its usual soothing effect. He had always been one to successfully employ mind over matter, logic over emotion. But the sensation of being trapped within his own body was a novel one that was proving to be insurmountable as of yet. The droid finished its debriefing, machinery indicating some kind of movement, and the pit in his stomach grew heavier.
"Where am I?" he asked with a gravelly voice.
But there was no reply.
Time stretched into eternity, and his ability to analyze and predict was significantly less sharp than he was used to. His nose was assaulted with the sterile scents of a medical bay and his ears picked up every beep, whoosh, and whir. His mouth felt dry and metallic, and the sensations throughout his body were a myriad of pain, awareness, and comfort. But his vision was gone. Almost entirely. He assessed the likelihood of what had happened, slowly bringing a hand to a heavily-bandaged face. His eyes were not covered, however, confirming his fears.
Solitude usually didn't bother him, but he found himself yearning for his brothers. The factual analysis of his situation did nothing to improve his mental state. He needed answers, and patience was not a prominent strength of someone who had been able to make things happen quickly and effectively his whole life.
"Well… You've certainly looked better," came a familiar voice, breaking him out of his morose reverie. It was not a voice he had expected, but it was an improvement to the circumstances nonetheless.
"Phee," he said quietly, "What happened?"
He felt a weight on the side of the bed, accompanied by a shifting shadow overhead, then the gentle, warm touch of a hand to his bare cheek that made him flinch involuntarily. A quiet sound of sympathy came from her, and the hand disappeared.
"You decided to go flying without a jet pack," Phee answered, "And the local landscape seemed to have an issue with that. Particularly the trees. And the ground."
"It was necessary," he replied, still struggling to speak more than a short sentence at a time. "My vision is impaired?"
"Your whole body is impaired," she said, attempting to keep it light, though the gravity was betrayed by the emotion in her voice. "You're lucky to be alive. But yes, for now."
Tech let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the pillow in defeat, "That is not ideal."
"You being alive is all that matters. You hear me?" she said with empathetic conviction.
"I do," he answered, resigned to the fact that a satisfactory response would require more stamina than he could afford. Phee rose to her feet.
"Good. Now you work on healing so we can get out of here."
The process was painstakingly slow, even with the miracles of bacta and medical droids, but finally the day arrived that they would be able to return to Pabu. Tech managed to shower and prepare on his own, feeling along the walls and fumbling about for each step. The whoosh of the door notified him of someone's arrival, and the identity was quickly confirmed by that euphonic voice.
"What are you wearing?" Phee asked as she saw him. He was wearing the medical bay defaults, which looked similar to his blacks, but had folded and tied an extra shirt around his eyes like a bandana. She wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. "I think Hunter has already claimed that particular fashion statement."
"It is likely that the appearance of my face is disconcerting, considering the damage from the fall. I did not want to be the cause of any detestation."
"Detestation! Listen to you. Come here, Brown Eyes," she invited, drawing close. "I'm taking this off, alright?"
"You may have to select an alternative term of endearment," he said as she gently pushed the makeshift bandana up and off his head. His face had indeed healed, but the rich brown eyes that had so captivated her were covered in a thick layer of milky white, and moved unseeingly in her general direction. Scar tissue tracked from his temple on one side to his ear on the other, creating a knotted texture on his previously sharp profile. He dropped his chin a bit, in a posture of shame, and her heart broke.
She dropped the folded shirt on the nearby bed, reaching for his hands with her own. His startle reflex had diminished only slightly; it would take a while to get used to a world of shifting shadows. She traced her hands up his arms, feeling him stiffen slightly at the touch, then up to his cheeks, cupping his face with as much tenderness as she could convey. She gazed into those eyes, wishing he could see the emotion on her face as she did.
"You're not gonna get off the hook that easy," she said, gently brushing his cheekbones with her thumbs. "Besides, Brown Eyes, the phenotypic eye color for all clones is brown, you know, even if you can't see them," she said with a grin that could be heard in her voice.
And for the first time since the accident, a small smile curved the corner of his lips as well.
Requested Tags: @32rotations @cocolinagoodnight @thenonsensebatch
If you enjoyed it, feel free to check out other works on Wattpad or Ao3. :) Got a full-length Tech fic, a short cute "first date" with Gregor, a short-ish rivalry of Tech/Crosshair fighting over you, and an ongoing full-length canon-aligned backstory on Howzer. :D
HANG IN THERE TIL SEASON 3! Much love!
saved me, part two | neytiri te tskaha mo’at’ite
summary: after neytiri, and her four kids returned to the forest, without jake, she became quiet, and would rarely leave her tent. she turned cold towards everyone, everyone except for you.
paring: widowed!neytiri x fem!omatikaya!reader
warnings: homosexuals, no jake (sos jake meatriders xx), angst, mentions of death, homosexuals with children
a/n: AHH SUPER DUPER INSECURE AB THIS ONE SO BE NICE!! reblogs r always appreciated. !no use of y/n!
word count: 834
tags: @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @neteyamforlife @ambria
previous | next (tbd)
it had been three moons. three moons since neytiri, and her children had come back. three moons since you found out that jake had returned to eywa.
you couldn't accept it. how could you? he was one of your closest friends. that was until today. you mustered up the courage to go and see him at the vitraya ramunong. it took a lot of convincing from your sa'sem, but you finally did it.
the closer you got, the more anxious you felt. trekking the same path you have since you were a child, the one you knew all too well. moving the same flora out of the way every time. you hated this. as blessed as you were that you could see loved ones that had passed, you hated it. you hated how you could see them for a certain amount of time before they were gone again. jake was gone, and he was not coming back any time soon.
and there you were, stood in front of it — the vitraya ramunong. all you wanted to do was turn back, and run. run far away and escape it all. but, of course, reality slapped you in the face, and told you, in its own way, that you couldn't. so, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and connected your tswin to the tree. letting yourself be embraced by the great mother.
you opened your eyes to see the forest, as it always had been. without jake, you felt a shift in the atmosphere, but now, something was different. but here, where you knew he was, even breathing became more natural to you, normality was there, once again, even if it was for a moment.
you remembered this. it was the day jake had taught you more about 'rrta — earth, he would call it. you hated that language, the tawtute language. you hated them. 've'kì, is a strong word ‘ite,' your sa'nok would say, but it was true. which was why it surprised you, when you let him in so quickly, too quickly you could say.
"hey, you." his voice snapped you back to reality.
"jake?" you called out to the man standing in front of you. you couldn't believe it. even though you knew you were visiting him, it didn’t seem real.
"who else would it be?" he joked with a stupid, cocky smirk on his face.
you let out a quiet laugh. a laugh of disbelief, a genuine laugh of happiness, and a laugh of sadness. too many emotions coursing through your veins to process anything that was happening around you.
"uh, hello?" jake called your name and waved a hand in front of your face.
"i am sorry." you apologised and looked away, trying to hide the tears that were now pooling in your eyes.
he waved you off, thinking you just had a bad day or something. oh how wrong he was. something about the fact that he didn't know he was dead made goosebumps appear on your skin. but it did comfort you in some way, happy that he didn't have to live for eternity knowing he had passed to save his eldest son, neteyam, and passed to his biggest enemies, sawtute.
at least he died for a good cause, you thought. saving a young boy from death deserved praise, from both the living, and the dead. but jake was also young, him being thirty-two. he was no where near one hundred and eighty.
"what's on your mind?" he asked. his tone shifting from playfulness and confusion, to genuine worry and concern.
"oh- nothing. i have just had a bad day, that is all." you lied. you very obviously couldn't tell him the truth, you'd sound like a mad woman, to him at least. 'oh, i am crying because you are dead and i am visiting you in the afterlife.'
jake would most definitely laugh and think you were merely joking around. he knew of the vitraya ramunong of course, he'd been there himself. but him, jake sully, dead, absolutely not.
"okay then." he laughed and grabbed your hand, guiding you someplace else.
you both ended up at a quiet place in the na'rìng. somewhere where there was no nocturnal animals, somewhere where all you could hear was the wind rustling the flora. it was peaceful, ironic really, given its the afterlife and all.
you both sat down on the small patch of grass that was overlooking the crystal clear lake beneath you. you had been here many times, on your own though, it was your place. so to have someone here with you felt odd, but at least it was someone you trusted, someone you loved.
"you know, as much as i try to forget about my past life on earth, sometimes i have dreams about it, the good parts." he started.
"give me a story." you said. as much as you hated him ever mentioning that place, it'd be good to hear a story or two.
vitraya ramunong = tree of souls
sa'sem = parents
tswin = queue
tawtute = sky people
ve'kì = hate
‘ite = daughter
sa’nok = mother
sawtute = the sky people
na'rìng = forest
Déjà Vécu: Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven: Operation Gingersnap
Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon
Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings, language, mentions of death and self harm, mentions of abuse.
Read on AO3
September 1st, 1972
James’ words stuck with her for the rest of the summer, along with the constant thoughts about Sirius’ wellbeing. She hadn’t spoken to her friends since the week at Potter Manor, and she hadn’t heard from Remus or Sirius since prior to that.
When she careened through the platform entrance, she boarded the train straight away, finding an empty compartment almost immediately. James and Peter would arrive soon, always on time thanks to Mrs. Potter, but she didn’t have the mindset to see Sirius or Remus’ families right now. Sure enough, not a few short moments after she settled in to the compartment, James and Peter came barreling in, all laughs and smiles. The jovial intrusion was welcomed, even lightening her anxious mood a little bit. As they waited for their other two friends, James struck up a serious conversation about quidditch, trying to convince her to just consider trying out for chaser this year.
“—James, I like quidditch, truly I do, but I need to focus on my schoolwork. I can’t imagine adding practice and games into my schedule. Besides, I like flying for fun—“
“—quidditch is fun!” James whined.
She glared at him, “—Until you get your skull smashed in by a bludger.”
James opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the compartment door.
Sirius and Remus stood in the doorway, both looking worse for wear. Her eyes trailed to James, whose smile only faltered slightly upon laying eyes on his best friend. The one thing she truly admired about James Potter was his ever present ability to adapt. No matter the situation, he would buck up and be the rock they needed, never letting anyone see him sweat. She knew he cared deeply, maybe too much about the people he loved, but at the end of the day she couldn’t find fault in that.
Sirius slumped next to his best friend, dropping his bag to the floor as Remus took the empty seat across from her. His presence made her feel nervous, like there were a tiny swarm of bees in her stomach; the sweet boy who made her feel safe and at home, was now a source of anxiety and worry. He looked at her sheepishly, nudging her foot with his. Meeting his eyes, she took in the soft purple under his lashes, wondering how much he had actually slept after the moon a week ago.
“Hey…” he said, giving a sideways smile.
“…hey,” she caved, returning the gesture immediately. It wasn’t the right time, but she needed to have an honest discussion with Remus about his lack of communication.
A young boy with shiny black hair passed the compartment, causing Sirius to jump up and lean out of the doorway.
“Reg!” He called, the younger boy she now recognized from over the summer turned back and lingered outside of the doorway.
“Wanna sit with us? There’s plenty of room—“ Sirius started.
“—I’m to sit with Cissy,” his brother said, grey eyes scanning the rest of them with the same scrutinizing gaze he gave her back in Diagon Alley, “Have fun with your…friends.” The last word came out with a hint of venom, the younger Black spinning on his heel to disappear towards the front of the train.
Sirius turned to sit back down, face downcast.
“Was that…your brother?” She asked cautiously.
He nodded, running a hand through his long hair, “Yeah, that’s Regulus. The ‘new heir’ as my uncle likes to put it.”
She looked at him curiously, his eyes flickering to hers for a moment before giving a grim smirk, “My family isn’t thrilled with my sorting, or my ‘associations’ according to my mother. Says I’m putting a stain on the Black Family name.”
She scoffed, “That’s ridic—“
“It’s fine. They’ve got Reggie, he’ll continue on the Black Family legacy of being sorted into Slytherin, and I can just live my life without their constant pressure,” he declared with finality. She saw right through his facade, and she’s pretty sure James did too due to the fleeting glance he shot from across the compartment. The rest of them not willing to push the topic any further, not on their first day back together at least.
They changed into their robes as the train closed in on Hogsmeade Station. Sirius, being the best at Transfiguration, changed her robes scarlet so she could sneak over to the Gryffindor table for the feast. Being second years, she was no longer forced to be subjected to the fear-inducing boat ride over the Black Lake, instead they piled into a carriage that seemed to be enchanted to pull itself. The sight of the Great Hall brought tears to her eyes, she could’ve kissed each floating candle if given the chance.
The five of them sat down at the Gryffindor table, and she kept her head down as their prefect Frank walked by. To her left, another second year lion sat down and immediately noticed the intruder.
“Aren’t you a Hufflepuff?”
Her eyes shot to the voice, met with the narrow gaze of a pretty blonde girl with shoulder length hair that was effortlessly messy in the best way. She looked like one of the girls she would always see hanging out at the local record store, oozing confidence and a hint of aggression.
“Please…don’t tell—“ she whispered, eyes pleading with the girl beside her.
Sirius had caught on to the exchange from across the table, leaning over to whisper-scream at the fellow Gryffindor, “Oi! McKinnon, don’t say a bloody word!”
The blonde girl gave him a glare, “I’m not a narc, Black. I’m just curious as to why she’s here—“
She changed her focus away from Sirius, “—I’m Marlene. Sorry you got messed up with this lot, they’re honestly insufferable most of the time.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, immediately warming to the girl.
James called from next to Sirius, “McKinnon! Ready for try-outs?”
Marlene sat up straighter, putting on a serious face as the two of them began to talk quidditch and she completely checked out.
As the sorting ceremony began, she watched as Sirius became more fidgety. He couldn’t sit still, something that Remus seemed to notice as well, reaching over to remove the fork he was tapping incessantly against the table. Regulus was one of the first to be sorted, unsurprisingly being placed in Slytherin. If she hadn’t been watching Sirius’ face the entire time, she would never have noticed how it fell slightly as the decision rang through the hall. Regulus hopped off the stool, joining his new house and his older cousin at their table, never looking over at his older brother.
Sirius was quiet throughout the rest of the feast, only perking up the moment James whispered something about “commencing Operation Gingersnap”. She didn’t ask, she’d probably end up finding out soon enough anyway. As the houses were dismissed, Sirius quickly changed her robes back to their usual yellow and black.
“I’ll tell you the password tomorrow morning, promise,” Remus whispered as he hugged her goodbye, the rest of them following suit in various versions of salutation. She lingered in the embrace that Sirius gave her, and he made no effort to untangle, scratching her shoulder blade with one of his fingers absentmindedly. Though she knew he���d never admit it, Sirius needed support and kindness, something she was more than willing to give.
Her dorm was a welcome sight, though she would admittedly still rather be with her friends. She unpacked her trunk while the other second year girls filtered in, greeting her in earnest and asking about everyone’s summer. Though she wasn’t very close with these girls, it felt good to be home.
Second Year was starting off strong, and she was quickly getting back into the swing of things. Most evenings were spent in the library with Remus researching for various essays, or with Peter who had begged her (literally on his knees outside of Charms) to tutor him. Apparently Mrs. Pettigrew was not thrilled by his marks from First Year. James, and in turn Sirius, had become hyper-focused on making the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, waking up at dawn to run drills on the pitch together. Even though she was annoyed they didn’t seem to be paying much attention to their schoolwork, she was relieved that both boys seemed to have shelved their pranks for the time being. That was until Sirius cornered her in the Transfiguration courtyard in late September.
“Hello my little bee,” he grinned as he plopped down underneath the tree where she was reading.
“What do you want…” she knew that grin—it was the one he used when he wanted something, usually something risky.
Sirius feigned offense, “How low you must think of me! I just wanted to spend time with my favorite Hufflepuff.”
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sirius Black.”
His mischievous grin vanished, “Fine. I need your help—“
“A prank,” he said cautiously, already anticipating the answer.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped, eyes going back to her book.
“Oh come on, please! We really need your help, and Lupin said you knew how to sneak into the kitchens—“
“Remus is involved in this?” Somehow she found that very hard to believe.
Sirius nodded, “Yep, he’s honestly kind of an evil genius—it’s a little frightening,” there was a tone of admiration in his voice.
She shook her head in disbelief, “I’ll think about it—“
Sirius pumped his fist victoriously, only to be shot with a vicious glare.
“—that isn’t a yes. I said I’ll consider it, and if, and only if I agree, you’ll owe me big time.”
He grabbed her face, eyes full of eager determination, “I promise Yellowjacket, if you help us, I’ll give you whatever you want, just name it.”
“Good to know,” she stared into his blue eyes, voice calm and steady as Sirius let go and rose to his feet. He smirked before sweeping off through the courtyard.
She didn’t consider Sirius’ proposition. In fact, she had completely forgotten about it, until Potions the following morning. They were assigned to brew a simple Doxycide potion, which was easy enough. It should have been a breeze, had she not been paired with Mulciber. The boy was insufferably thick, and she would have been completely fine with just doing the brunt of the work herself, yet he insisted on mucking up every ingredient he got his grimy hands on. Just as she was adding the chopped dragon liver, Mulciber dumped an entire handful of hemlock essence into the cauldron, causing the liquid to thicken immensely and turn a sickly greenish-brown color.
“You absolute idiot! It only calls for a dash!” She snapped, the tension of holding her tongue for the duration of class finally breaking.
“Who are you calling an idiot, you snotty little mudblood!” He sneered, eyes narrowing in disgust.
Her breath caught in her throat. The word itself didn’t bother her, but ever since the summer when James had explained the news about you-know-who, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of the insult even more.
She didn’t respond to Mulciber, and when Professor Slughorn came around to check the final result, she kept her mouth shut as to why theirs was defunct. The failing mark didn’t matter anymore, she just needed to get out of the dungeons.
Taking the stone steps two at a time, she ran to the Great Hall where the boys were waiting for dinner. The four of them were laughing about something when she stalked up, slamming her potions book onto the table in anger. They all froze.
“I’m in,” she looked directly at Sirius, the anger in her eyes answered by the spark of mischief in his.
His concerned gaze turned into a smile, “Brilliant.”
The one favor she asked, was that no one inform her of the details of the prank. That way, if caught, she wouldn’t have to lie to a teacher. “Operation Gingersnap” as they were calling it, required James and Sirius to sneak into the kitchens under the disguise of the invisibility cloak. She met them outside of the Hufflepuff Common Room entrance after curfew, leading them down to the kitchens. The portrait of fruit threw the two boys for a loop as she walked up, tickled the lone green pear in the bowl, and stood back beside them. The two looked at her like she was insane, only to quickly realize the frame was swinging open.
“Thank you again, we owe you,” Sirius whispered, James grinning broadly beside him.
“Good luck with…whatever you’re doing,” she said quietly, watching as they threw the cloak over, vanishing before her eyes
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll see tomorrow morning!” She heard the disembodied voice of James giggle. The portrait closed, and she took that as her cue to head back to her dorm, silently hoping she didn’t just sentence them all to a future detention.
The next morning, her stomach was in knots. Remus had tea already poured by the time she sat down at the table, taking a calming sip as he watched her worried expression begin to fade.
“Rough night?” He chuckled.
“How do you not feel like this all the time? Knowing what they’re doing?” She exhaled.
Remus shrugged, “It’s just a bit of fun, besides, most of the time it’s my ideas they’re executing.”
She stared at him in shock, eliciting another cheeky shrug from him.
Soon enough, the other three joined them, smiling brightly as they sat down.
“Ready for the show, lads?” Sirius rubbed his hands together in anticipation, glancing over as more and more Slytherins were taking seats at their respective table. She didn’t want to look. What if they got caught? Would she be expelled? Oh god, would they take away her wand?
She resigned to just keeping her head down and eating breakfast, or at least attempting to. She didn’t have much of an appetite at the present moment. The hall began to grow louder, the sounds of students chatting and eating grating on her nerves.
Finally, James nudged Sirius, who promptly dropped his piece of toast mid-bite.
“It’s happening—“ he gasped.
Behind her, she could hear the tone change; people were beginning to mutter about something, creating an electric buzz in the air followed by a flurry of giggles. She turned around to see the hair color of Slytherin after Slytherin turn into a bright shade of orange. Mulciber, now sporting a garish shade of ginger locks, stood up aggressively to try and see who the culprit was. On his left, Severus’ head sunk lower, his normally black hair now a copper curtain across his face.
She turned back to the boys, mouth agape.
James was practically beaming, while she had never seen Sirius smile so big.
“How did you do it?” She gasped.
“You said you didn’t want to know!” Sirius grinned back, eyes never straying from the ever growing clan of orange and green.
“You’re right, I don’t—“ she laughed, turning towards Remus, “—but I do want to know how you came up with the idea.”
He shrugged, trying to stifle the smile playing on his lips, “I ran into Severus picking on a little ginger first year a few weeks ago, thought we could even the playing field a bit.”
All of the anxiety she had felt simply melted away as she watched Mulciber’s face grow beet red, clashing horribly with his new hair, the echo of ‘mudblood’ bouncing around her brain. He deserved this. So did Severus. If she was being honest, the majority of Slytherins were guilty of harassment most of the time, and the realization finally hit her that she didn’t feel an ounce of remorse.
She looked at her four friends, a devious smirk lifting across her face, “So…when’s the next one?”
Hi Becca! I would literally die for you blog. It’s my go to any time I need some good self care😉. You’re incredibly talented!
But I’ve had this idea bouncing around in my head. It boils down to just Bucky and cock warming. Like the reader is on him begging for more but he is just having way to much fun playing with their clit to start moving. Making them cum on him with out thrusting once.
Just an idea I thought you might like. I love you work, have a great day!!
I'm really glad you've been enjoying my stuff so much!! That's so sweet!💗 and I keep getting told I can get ✨filthier✨ so I'd love to mess with this is little bit
Because I love the thought of Bucky making you start off with a dildo that's just a little bit smaller in size than he is. Maybe one of those dildos with a suction cup on the bottom so it's stuck on a wooden chair.
"Good girl, take it all." He encourages, kneeling between your legs, watching your cunt greedily swallow the toy. It's a sight he doesn't often get to see and he's really not sure why he doesn't make a point of watching it more often.
You whine quietly, feeling the toy bottom out. Your ass makes contact with the cool, varnished wood beneath you and you can't help but roll your hips a little, enjoying the feeling of the tip rubbing against your velvety walls.
"If I wanted you to fuck yourself on that, I'd tell you to. Did I tell you to?" Bucky's voice has a sharp edge that almost knocks you out of your daze.
"N-no... But-" You begin, trying to justify your movement but he cuts you off.
"No. So don't. I want you to keep your cunt stuffed and take what I give you." He watches up at you as he presses your knees apart, keeping his eyes on your face until he can't bare it anymore.
You gasp quietly at the feeling of his hot breath on your exposed, slick sex and there's nothing you can do but whimper at the feeling of his tongue gently grazing your clit.
Fuck, it's good. It's not long before he's licking you like he's starving, lapping and sucking gently on your clit before forcing your legs wider apart to lick your arousal from the base of the toy.
"Bucky, please. Please let me move." You didn't mean to sound so pathetic but with each lick, you get closer and closer to an orgasm you won't be able to stop. An orgasm you've been warned you're not allowed to have.
You're almost surprised he takes pity on you, giving you permission to get off the toy. He removes it from the chair and sits down in it's place, offering his cock as a replacement.
You sit back down as you had earlier with your back to his chest but you can't help but feel amazed at how much better his dick feels. He's slightly bigger and while that's nice, nothing beats the way he throbs inside you and the hot, breathy groans against your ear at the feeling of your body taking all of him.
"Such a good girl." He smirks against your neck, littering your skin with kisses between his soft praises. You feel one of his hands on your chin, gently directing you to look to your right, over in the direction of the full length mirror.
The reflection you're looking at makes your walls flutter involuntarily because fuck, you really are stuffed full of his cock and he's making sure you're not able to fully enjoy it yet.
With one hand still holding your head in place, making sure you keep watching, Bucky's free hand trails down between your legs, flicking and rubbing your clit again.
"Oh f-fuck." You whine, watching Bucky's smirk widen. You can't sit still. You just can't. You want to grind your hips and take what you need and in that moment, his pleasure and all the instructions he's given you come second. You need to get off, consequences be damned.
"Don't even fucking think about it." He warns, delivering one harsh slap to your clit. It's not overly hard but it's enough to shock you. "You know you're not allowed to cum. I want to feel this pretty pussy dripping first. Don't worry though. Once you're wet and messy enough, I'll fuck you stupid on the carpet, right in front of the mirror. Want you to watch yourself cum so hard you forget your own name."
we have a guest speaker in math class to talk to us about coping w stress as if this class isn’t the reason i felt like shitting myself this morning😭😭
grits teeth this anxiety is just an excuse to treat myself better that's all this is telling me. It's just the sign to go on more walks and make myself my favorite tea and read more. Things that WILL feel good and luxurious so help me
i got shirley jackson’s dark tales for christmas and ough short horror stories my beloved
praying that the people who support b*m arent registered voters heh
Me 🤝 Chrysi
Driving always because the boy I make out with can’t or won’t
The amount of times I think back to this one post I saw that was like “i identify as she/her only in the way that pirate ships and boats are called she, so like in the least feminine way possible” and I keep trying to find it but can’t anywhere im starting to think it was a dream (in a joking way tho not actually)
Kinda fun that I might try and rent a house with some people next year
I literally love listening to people talk. like. if someone has ever said “you talk too much” I probably wanna be your friend. there’s actually something so wonderful about listening to someone talk about their life and share that with you and not having to formulate long responses because they talk and you listen and maybe sometimes respond but. it’s a relationship built on understanding and comfort jgjgjfdfnngdf extroverts have all my love<3
Found a blazer online that looked like it might match the dress and it turned out to be absolutely perfect.
I’m so excited for the wedding cause I’ll see some friends from elementary school that I haven’t seen in years. Or decades even. And I’ll meet them while looking absolutely awesome and living my best life.
Taps mic one two three, one two three
I have an announcement to make to whomever will read. *clear throat* Um Hi 👋🏻 so um…
I AM DEMIGIRL ☺️ so I do identify as a female but when it comes to identifying as a woman I don’t identify with it fully. I’m like partly a woman but also a gender neutral person you know? I am demigirl.
It truly felt freeing to figure that out and just be able to embrace it you know? I guess in a way I’ve always felt comfortable with who I am but didn’t have the words for it and now I’m just glad I do. I do feel quite happy and I did felt peace today when I realized it. There still some journey to travel but I’m happy with where I am now. Still figuring some things out but closer to home that I think I’ve been lately.
Also I’ll like to say that if you don’t choose to identify as trans that is valid and okay. I know I don’t identify as such and it’s okay. Trans is an umbrella term and transgender, non binary, gender queer do fall under it but you don’t need to use the label if you choose not to. Is okay, not everyone wishes to use that label and identify as such. And if you do identify as such you are also so very valid and it’s perfectly okay. ( please please please let me know if I worded this correctly cause I don’t want to offend anyone and I have read and added and deleted these many times so please if I said something wrong or it came across a certain way please let me know so I can educate myself and correct it )
That’s the announcement
Thank you for reading and happy pride
Oh and remember that no matter what you are valid and I love you ❤️
Best regards your Autistic Aro - Ace female Demi girl friendly glitch )