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thrillridesz · 4 years

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black magic ▫ sangyeon

➳ pairing: best friend!sangyeon x fem!reader ➳ genre: fluff, magic!au ➳ warnings/rating: PG ➳ word count: 2.7k ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for tbz’s best leader sangyeon! happy sangyeon day everyone ^^ this story is also inspired by little mix’s ‘black magic’. This is unedited as of now and I finished this real quick so I’m sorry if it isn’t up to standard!

“Thanks for the surprise, I really appreciated it.”

The night was young as the luminous moon hung high in the dark sky, casting a soft, white glow on the earth below. A cool, night breeze whipped gently against your cheeks while you strolled the quiet streets with Sangyeon, a tranquil silence in the air safe for the soft scraping sounds of the fallen autumn leaves against the gravel ground as it got caught in the wind. Wrapped up tightly in your coat, you felt a sense of warmth spread across your chest, a warmth more cosy than anything else.

“It’s no problem! It’s your birthday, it had to be perfect.” You replied, shooting him a bright smile as you stuffed your hands into your coat pockets.

Sangyeon grinned, his eyes crinkling into crescents.

“It was, don’t worry. Not gonna lie though, I didn’t think it was Eric in that bear costume even for a second. You guys really scared me right there.”

Your laugh rang through the night as his smile grew wider.

“Well, it was a pretty impromptu idea! It was literally on sale for like 10 bucks, we just had to get it,” you threw your hands up in defense as Sangyeon chuckled softly, his breath coming out in white puffs from the cold.

“Always on the hunt for good deals, y/n. Always.”

“Of course! Though since you’re my best friend, I’m usually willing to pay just a little bit more.” You replied thoughtfully, tapping your chin as if deep in thought.

The two of you have been friends ever since you could walk. For the longest time, it was just the two of you against the rest of the world. When you got bullied by the other kids in the courtyard in second grade, it had been Sangyeon who stuck by you and defended you from them even if it meant he was to take some of the punches in your place. Likewise when Sangyeon had been dangerously close to repeating a year in eleventh grade, you had persisted in staying by his side to make sure he studied and understood everything the teachers’ had to teach. All through middle school and high school, the both of you have been thick as thieves. Whatever you did, he did as well and whatever he did, you did too. Things like spending Halloween and coordinating outfits, going to school and studying for exams… The two of you were each others’ constants and if anyone was to ever look up the term ‘best friends’ in the dictionary, they would no doubt find both your names in there.

What sort of ‘best friend’ would you be not to at least fork out a few extra dollars for the sake of an amazing birthday for the one and only Lee Sangyeon?

You didn’t notice the slight frown that crossed Sangyeon’s face which he quickly replaced with a soft smile but the look in his eyes were hardened and detached.

“Right.”

“Wait, what’s that?”

You stopped dead in your track, squinting as you pointed into a distance. Before Sangyeon could reply, you grabbed onto his hand, pulling him behind you while you made your way over. The colour in his cheeks darkened as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, peering at you shyly. You were too engrossed in staring at the display in front of you to notice him, your nose practically touching the glass panel.

“Black Occult?” You mumbled under your breath, your eyebrows furrowing together.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to Sangyeon, a look of confusion etched in your face.

“You don’t find this weird?”

“What about it?”

“This was never here.”

At that, Sangyeon narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the store’s exterior. Wrinkling his nose, you saw the belated realisation dawn upon him.

“Oh, right. Didn’t this used to be an arcade?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re so dense sometimes, it’s unbelievable.”

“Can I help you guys?”

The two of you whipped around to see a certain pink haired boy standing with his arms akimbo at the entrance, staring at the both of you. His eyes were blue, almost unnaturally so, and he was clad in just about the most colourful suit you’ve ever seen anyone don on. It felt like an assault to your sights, with all the neon colours yet somehow there was such a mysterious aura to him. In a way, it felt like there was an almost mystical vibe that you got from him that made you inclined to think that he wasn’t in any way human.

“W-We… Oh, we’re sorry. We didn’t know you were open.” Sangyeon replied and you could hear a slight tremble in his voice. He definitely felt the same.

“Are you guys looking to purchase anything?” The scowl on the boy’s face disappeared as his eyes widened.

“Um…”

“Excellent! Please, come on in. I was wondering why you guys were standing outside acting all weird but I didn’t realise you guys wanted to come in. It’s this goddamn black glass, isn’t it? I’ve told Haknyeon so many times we should change it. Makes it so hard to look in, I swear.” He rambled on, holding the door open with a wide grin on his face.

“Come on in! Feel free to look around. If you need anything, I’ll be here. Just call my name, Chanhee.”

You and Sangyeon exchanged a look as if hesitating to enter but one look at Chanhee’s enthusiastic expression prompted you to see foot into the store. Seeing that you were going in, Sangyeon shrugged as he followed suit.

The moment you entered the store, the overwhelming scent of lilies and peaches hit you with a pang while the dim lighting made it difficult to navigate even within the store. Yet once your eyes adjusted to the dimness in the room, you couldn’t help but marvel at the oddities that surrounded you.

On the wooden shelves attached to the wall, were rows and rows of oddly coloured liquid, too bright or too unnaturally coloured to have come from a source of nature. Several sprigs of unknown herbs hung on the walls, tied into bundles by string while on another side, candles of all shapes, sizes and scents lined the table. Well-polished crystals were arranged meticulously on an old mahogany coffee table near the counter and a particularly interesting looking bird flitted around in a wrought Victorian-style iron birdcage. It was small with a white beak and purple and yellow feathers with its wings flapping so fast, you could barely see it moving. You have never seen a bird like that before and although you started towards it, something else caught your eye entirely.

Picking up a small bottle, you inspected the glowing golden liquid in it, Tilting it in your hand, the viscosity of the mixture and the velvety look it had was almost mesmerising to stare at. As you turned it over, you leaned in to read the faded label on it.

“Love potion.” You said aloud, causing Sangyeon who had been looking at a bunch of tarot cards to look up at you.

“Ah, yes! One of our bestsellers that is!” Chanhee exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. “Guaranteed to work! It’s only 15 dollars.”

“Why would you need anything like that?” Sangyeon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his biceps bulged ever so slightly.

“You never know… I just thought it looked pretty.”

Somehow, you couldn’t stop staring at it. It was as if it was whispering your name to ‘just buy it’. Then again, it could really just be the impulsive shopper in you but there was something so alluring and magnetic about it that you just felt like you had to have it in your possession. It was like letting a child go lose in a candy shop and finally seeing that one lollipop with the most beautiful swirls and crazy colours that just screamed flavour. You didn’t exactly care even if it wasn’t an actual potion, it just looked so aesthetic that you had to buy it.

“I’ll have it!”

Sangyeon looked at you as if you had just sprouted horns on your head as you handed over a dollar bill over to Chanhee who accepted it readily.

“Surely, you don’t actually believe that it’s a love potion.” He blurted out much to the disgruntlement of Chanhee who shot a deathly glare at him.

“It is! It’s been tried and tested. It works, okay?” He said with an air of haughtiness which Sangyeon grumbled at and instantly, Chanhee knew. He should have known earlier in all honesty, from the way he had seen the man stare at you. A slow smile began to spread across his face.

Interesting.

As Chanhee watched the two of you leave the store with Sangyeon still rambling on about how you ‘just wasted 15 bucks for nothing’, he leaned into his chair contentedly. With a snap of his fingers, a cosy glass of grape wine materialised in his hands and with a sip, he sighed.

“Darling didn’t even need a love potion.”

“I can’t believe you actually bought it.” Sangyeon said, his voice still carrying a tone of disbelief.

“Look at it though, isn’t it pretty? I mean even if it isn’t actually a love potion, it’s nice to look at.” You said, still looking at the glowing liquid in the tiny bottle. Slotting in the key and entering the shared apartment the two of you shared with Younghoon, a childhood friend to the both of you and Hyunjae, a mutual friend from university. Since Younghoon was away in Spain with his girlfriend, Bea, it was really only Hyunjae in the house who you found clad in a dinosaur onesie as he lounged in front of the television with a big bowl of buttered popcorn in his lap.

“Oh, you guys are back. I was wondering where you guys went after the party.”

“We were… A little caught up.” Sangyeon said slowly, casting you a knowing glance which you avoided.

“Figures. You guys left earlier than I did.”

“Because you were busy fraternising with anyone you can possibly bring home, which I can see you’ve failed.” You joked and Hyunjae tossed a pillow at you, with a scowl on his face.

“Ugh, get out of my way.”

You laughed out loud as you set the bottle on the kitchen tabletop, causing him to turn to look. When he did, his eyes widened almost comically large as he leapt to his feet.

“What’s that?” He shuffled over quickly with a look of awe.

“Some stupid love potion thing,” Sangyeon replied curtly before you could even open your mouth to say anything. You turned to him with a frown at which he merely shrugged off carelessly as he preoccupied himself in rummaging through the refrigerator for a late night snack.

Taking the bottle from you, Hyunjae held it up against the light, his dark eyes shining with overflowing curiosity and doubt. The light reflected off the smooth,clear glass, making the gold liquid inside it look even more luminous and even wispy with the liquid swirling almost in slow motion no matter how you look at it. You have never seen anything like it and judging from Hyunjae’s expression, neither has he.

“Looks interesting.” He declared after a moment of inspection as Sangyeon turned to him in disbelief.

“Not you too. That guy definitely ripped y/n off. Seriously, y/n.” He tsked, sauntering over and snatching the bottle from Hyunjae.

“Doesn’t seem like anything special. A love potion? In this day and age? I don’t buy it for a second.” There was disdain in his eyes as he pursed his lips in disgust. Popping open the bottle, a sweet scent of tangerines and pineapples rapidly permeated the small apartment and maybe it was just you but you thought you felt your heart flutter just a little. A smile made its way onto your lips quite unconsciously and a tiny jolt of electricity shook you in the most delightful way possible.

Could it be…?

You lifted your gaze to see Sangyeon stare at the bottle in his hand with a startled look on his face, his mouth slightly ajar and you knew that he had felt the exact same thing. Though that look of surprise disappeared just as quickly as it came and his expression hardened.

“That’s a lot of artificial flavouring for one bottle.” He clenched his jaw as his grip on the glass bottle tightened and you could see the veins protruding ever so slightly from his forearm.

You narrowed your eyes.

“If you’re just going to whine, then give it back to me. Just don’t look at it.”

As you leaned forward, Sangyeon took a step back.

“Why? Are you going to try giving that to someone?”

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with suspicion.

“Sure, why not? There’s a really cute guy in my statistics class, even if it doesn’t work - which I’m pretty sure it doesn’t so don’t worry - it’s still worth a shot.”

You barely noticed the flash of disappointment in Sangyeon’s eyes and how his shoulders sagged ever so slightly as you ripped it from his hands. Yet before you could cap it back, he grabbed it back so hastily that you didn’t even have time to react. Throwing his head back, you and Hyunjae could only watch in shocked silence as you gulped down almost half the bottle.

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he shot Hyunjae a piercing glare as the latter let out a wolf whistle, his eyes filled with mirth and genuine adoration.

“Damn. That was... Ironic.”

You didn't say anything except stare at Sangyeon and a moment passed without anything out of the ordinary happening. There was no burst of sparkles or anything growing out from anyone’s body, nothing crazy at all.

Huh. So maybe it was actually a hoax.

“That should be enough proof,” he said in an ‘I told you so’ tone which you rolled your eyes at. “That's some nice potion though or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Really? Let me have a taste.”

Reaching over, Hyunjae took a sip and hummed merrily.

“Oh dang, this is amazing. It’s like an orange smoothie except a million times better.”

Lifting his head, he turned to look at you and what you saw made you almost stumble back in shock. The colour of his eyes held a faint flash of pink before they returned to normal but when they did, they no longer held the playfulness and casual air that Hyunjae always wore but rather, they were filled with such intense passion and affection. It was like looking into the eyes of someone who was extremely, completely, slap me silly and deeply...

In love.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look? I know I’ve never said this but... I think I love you,” Hyunjae said in a low, soft voice as he reached out to hold your hands in his.

“I...I...” You spluttered at a complete loss of words, wringing your hands frantically.

At that, Sangyeon swivelled around to stare at the two of you.

He could only watch as Hyunjae lifted his hand to gently brush your hair away from your face as his other hand reached up to cup your face.

“How could I not have notice- Hey!”

Grabbing him by the collar from behind, Hyunjae practically flew back as Sangyeon pulled him away with a disapproving frown on his face. There was a deep frown etched onto his face, his eyes crinkling as he looked at the latter with an almost irritated expression. Though somehow, you could detect a faint hint of fear in his demeanour. In a way, the uneven and volatile energy radiated so strongly off him that it was hard not to see it in any other way.

Was Sangyeon perhaps jealous?

No. It couldn’t be, he was your best friend. Furthermore, how did the potion work on Hyunjae but not Sangyeon? Unless...

You let out a soft gasp as the realisation dawns upon you. It seemed as if Sangyeon may have come to the same realisation almost as soon as you did because he turned to you with such an expression of sheer panic, the sound of his heart pounding so loudly you could hear it.

The potion didn’t work because he was already in love with you.

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oboevallis · 3 years

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after watching the episode I was thinking if maybe u could write one about Amelink with scout their first days at home and the baby crying all night and not letting anyone sleep thank u

two cakes

thank you so much for the prompt!!! i hope everyone’s staying safe and doing well just realized i didn’t follow the prompt whatsoever i am so sorry!!!

“Meredith’s gonna kick us out isn’t she?” Link nervously asked as he watched his girlfriend paced with their newborn baby.

“She’s not going to kick us out.” Amelia said, stress evident in her voice.

“Of course she’s going to kick us out, her kids aren’t getting any sleep, Maggie’s not getting any sleep, she’s not getting any sleep, and we’re not getting any sleep.” Link uncharacteristically ranted.

“Link, I don’t know if you’ve watched the news recently but Seattle’s just got the country’s first Covid-19 case. Merediths obviously going to be a superhero and is going to be doing research and helping, so someone’s going to have to watch her kids. And that someone is going to be us.”

“Hopefully it’ll be fine, we’re quarantining and taking precautions. This thing will just breeze over.” Link optimistically stated, trying to keep a smile even though he didn’t entirely believe what he was saying.

“We may be doing these things, but other people aren’t.” The tired mother passed the crying baby to her boyfriend. “Here, take him.”

“We’re never going to sleep ever again are we?”

“No.” Amelia sighed as she rubbed her temples. The door then abruptly opened to reveal a disheveled Meredith. “Ugh, Meredith we’re so sorry.” The general surgeon then took the baby from the mans arms and maneuvered him so he was on his tummy leaning against her arm rubbing his back, ceasing his wailing into whimpers.

“I hate you Meredith.” Amelia groaned as she fell back on the bed.

“How’d you do that?” Link asked in disbelief as his son started to drift of to sleep in his aunts arms.

“In surgery if a certain angle doesn’t allow access, you rotate to another position.” Meredith then carefully lowered the baby into his crib.

“Thank you Meredith.” Amelia sighed in relief, as she watched the baby’s chest lower and rise rhythmically. “I really owe you.”

“You don’t owe me. You’ve been watching my kids for the longest time.” Amelia chuckled in agreement, Meredith watched the baby along with Amelia. “It’s so worth it though. For that baby smell, and their fingers, and their little smiles.”

“It really is.”

“How’s he holding up?” Meredith nodded over to Link who was already passed out.

“Ehh, he’s okay. He’s not really used to all the kids, and being locked on the house doesn’t help much.”

“He’s always been so great with the kids though.” Meredith was surprised to hear this.

“It’s different when it’s your kid I guess . I mean, I always knew what Ellis needed when she’d cry, but with Scout I just can’t tell.”

“You’ll figure it out, it just takes time.”

“I know.” Amelia sighed, her sister placing her hand on Amelias calf rubbing it affectionately.

“I have no idea what to do for Baileys birthday.”

“Yeah, can’t really throw a party.”

“And no ones in a partying mood.”

“Maybe just ask him what he wants? We’ll go from there.”

“And I’ll have Maggie make him his favorite lasagna.”

“It’ll be nothing like last years superhero party, but we’ll still make sure he has a great time.”

“Maybe we can get that boyfriend of yours to watch some marvel movies with him, no one else on this house can stand them.” Meredith chuckled as she stood up. “Well I’m going to sleep before that wailer of yours wakes everyone up again.”

“I’m sorry.” Amelia apologized as she pulled the covers over herself.

“Don’t be.” Meredith shook her head as she quietly closed the door.

_______________________________________

Bailey walked into the kitchen and sighed, everyone was sulking around. And he was tired of it, he just wanted to laugh. Hoping the baby could cheer him up he walked into the living room where his uncle was pacing around with the baby.

“Hey uncle Link.”

“Hey, what’s up almost birthday boy.”

“Nothing.” Bailey sighed plopping down in the couch.

“Yeah, it’s kind of boring huh?” The boy nodded in agreement. The boys mother than walked into the room and wrapped her arm around her son.

“What would you like for your birthday?” Meredith asked, wiping a piece of hair from her sons face. The boy contemplated for a minute before he formulated an idea.

“A cake.”

“Well of course there’ll be a cake.” Meredith chuckled.

“No, like just a cake for me.” The boy smiled.

“A whole cake?” The boy nodded vigorously in excitement. “Well alright then.”

“Thanks mommy.” The boy wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck.

“And you’re gonna bake this cake?” Link asked, trying to contain his laugh as he paced around.

“Of course not.” Meredith laughed, the man had obviously not caught onto how the house worked. “I’ll get Maggie to do that.”

“Of course.” Link laughed.

_______________________________________

The downstairs illuminated from the light from the kitchen, Maggie was baking while the two other woman watched. Silence lulled over the room, Bailey had just announced that all doctors living with others should book a hotel room to protect their families.

“I guess we should talk about Baileys email.” Maggie concluded as she stirred the cake batter. Meredith nodded in agreement, Amelia already anticipated what was going to be asked of her and Link.

“I absolutely hate to ask Amelia, especially since you and Link are handling a newborn in a pandemic no less. I just can’t leave my kids with a nanny, they trust you guys.”

“We totally understand. We’ve talked about this a bit.” Amelia nodded, fiddling with her tea bag.

“This is gonna be the last celebration I have with the kids for the foreseeable future.” Meredith sighed, obviously distraught.

“As much as I hate cooking this could be the last time in awhile where I’m actually making food.” Maggie realized, slowing her stirring to contemplate, all of her meals were going to be take out and the dreaded hospital food.

“We just gotta keep smiling.” Amelia didn’t want the last time in Maggie and Meredith could spend time with the kids, for a sad aura in the air. For the kids sake, but also her own.

“Hey, why do you think Bailey wanted his own cake?” Maggie asked as she separated the batter into two pans.

“Bailey hasn’t always been the best sharer.” Meredith smirked think back to all the fights he’d have with his sisters, making her sad that she’d be missing the chance to remediate many fights with her children. “It’s been what? Two weeks since Scout has come home, and Bailey has already hidden all of his dinosaur toys.”

“He hasn’t been as bad as Ellis though.” Maggie reminded to the incident last night where Scout was wailing and Ellis was sobbing, tightly holding onto her aunts legs as she was occupied with her baby.

“She’s not accustomed to not being the baby of the house.”

“Being the baby of the family is overrated.” Amelia said.

“Cant relate.” Meredith and Maggie said in sync, though they were sisters they had experienced their childhoods as only children.

“Hey, Maggie?” Amelia asked, recalling a question she had where she has never followed up. “Remember when we were in the scan room and you said you were to busy sexting it up with Winston? Who is that?”

“Oh.” Maggie giggled, trying to conceal her blush. “Just some guy.”

“You had sex at a conference with a random guy?” Meredith chuckled in disbelief.

“Not random, he was one of my students back at Tufts. We reconnected and had an amazing time, that’s all. I’m in Seattle and he’s in Boston, and there’s a global pandemic so it’s not going anywhere.”

“That’s what I said about Link.” Amelia sang in a song songy way. “And now we have a baby.”

“It really is nothing.” The youngest dismissed as she placed the cake pans into the oven.

“It’s obviously something.” Amelia said as she lowered herself down onto the couch, her sisters following in tow. Between the pandemic and the newborn the sisters hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“I’ve never fallen in love so quickly with someone.”

“Wow, it took you a long time to even admit you liked Jackson.” Meredith pointed out.

“It’s just different.”

“It’s always different when it’s the right one.” Meredith sighed, Amelia nodded in agreement trying to contain her smile.

“Links the one huh?” Maggie asked.

“He definitely is.” The sisters sat in a content silence, no kids were begging for attention and they blocked out the thoughts of a global pandemic. The timer on the oven the beeped loudly and Maggie jumped up before it could wake any of the sleeping children. As Maggie iced the cakes Meredith turned the news on damping the mood again, nighttime was the only time they could find out what was going on in the world because Zola was too smart for her own good and catch on quickly to the severity of the issue.

“It’s going to be okay.” Amelia concluded, trying her best to obtain her boyfriends optimism.

“It’s going to be okay.” Maggie smiled as she looked at the finished product of her cakes, the one for Bailey and the one for everyone else. “I have to say this is one of my favorite cakes I’ve decorated so far.”

“It’s definitely your best.” Meredith whispered in content, basking in the silence as her sister had turned off the TV. Cries then interrupted the peace, causing Amelia to say her good nights and tend to the crying baby.

“It’s going to be okay.” Maggie whispered to herself as Meredith also made her way upstairs. She placed the cakes into the fridge, and hoped tomorrow would be a happy day for Bailey despite the world being in shambles.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #baby amelink #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #maggie pierce #meredith grey #scout lincoln #bailey shepherd #zola shepherd #ellis shepherd

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missorgana · 3 years

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can’t say anything to your face

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: teen and up

word count: 7779

warning: swearing, alcohol, brief mention of death

summary: Bucky loves Sam, and he tells him so, in his own way. (mostly canon compliant sambucky pining)

(my longest fic yet??? since TFATWS is still taking over my life, here’s some more sambucky fluff slash angst. they’re everything to me. this thing is a bit self-indulgent too, after the idea from this tweet! so all thanks to twitter user @/SAMBUCKY616 for this concept, even tho my danish is probably not the best interpretation jgdjd.... oh well! and thank you to Cat / @wendigostag as always, because you convinced me to write it and beta read and just..... ur perfect. mwah! hope you all enjoy this???)

read on ao3

A remnant that sticks with Bucky, still sticks with him after he’s rid of the Winter Soldier for good, is the language.

The only good thing, really. He could live without every one of the screams he hears in his dreams and lifeless bodies imprinted on his retinas, but that sticks on too, real tight. Being fluent in more languages than he imagined to be is bearable.

Not exactly bearable, though, not when many of them are tainted with those memories that he tries to distance himself to when he’s awake. He’s learning. It’s harder at night, when there’s darkness and stillness and no distractions from what creeps up on him every time.

French is hard. He knows every word to express the chaos in his head, but he can’t pronounce them. German, too. Russian, Spanish, Mandarin. He’s especially fond of Arabic, which is also particularly difficult for him to dig up from his brain, not because he doesn’t remember it, but because the screams in his head get too loud for him to think.

It’s a shame.

There’s one exception in his, quite frankly, extensively large vocabulary, and that’s Danish.

Bucky doesn’t know why this language in particular was something the Winter Soldier (he usually tries to think of him as a separate entity altogether, because, well, it hurts less) needed, given that, as far as his memory reaches, it was never used.

And this is why he finds himself drawn to it.

Of course, English is what he speaks on a day-to-day basis, and it feels… mostly normal. But somehow, Danish becomes a thing of comfort. Or safety, more likely.

He’s pretty sure his pronunciation sounds like absolute hell, the words sometimes more harsh than he intends, making him want to turn himself inside out in embarrassment. All these feelings, they’re difficult to describe.

Especially the ones relating to Sam Wilson.

Sam.

Sam, Sam, Sam. He’s the only other constant visitor in the back of his mind, and whether that’s a good or a bad thing, up for discussion. A welcome distraction or… something more painful.

Yeah, this feeling is a hard one. Maybe it’s because it’s more than two decades since he’s felt it, or maybe he knows, deep down, that he hasn't ever felt it at all.

Since they met, he’s sworn that he hated him. But he doesn’t. It’s so bleeding obvious he might as well get it tattooed on his forehead.

Annoying, positive, calm, vulnerable, perfect Sam. Perfect- ugh, yes, it’s the only word left for him to describe him. It makes sense, like a lightbulb flicked on in his head and since then it hasn’t stopped shining.

Bucky doesn’t really know how this happened. Why or when. Maybe it came to him in that final battle, finding himself living and breathing, and the very first person he saw, first of anything he put his eyes upon, was Sam.

Or maybe it already dawned upon him in Steve’s awfully cramped car, where Sam wouldn’t move his stupid seat up.

Regardless, along the way, his habit of mumbling to himself in the Danish tongue in frustration or anxiety has developed into a way of letting things he doesn’t want his… co-worker to hear flow through, and out into the wide world, without any worry.

If he says what he wants to yell at the top of his lungs, in a way Sam would understand, that could only be the last drop into the oblivion of hating the universe.

He won’t feel that way. Sam is so… good. Bucky isn’t. He deserves better than that.

It’s easier this way, he tells himself. It’s fucking easier. He has a hard time keeping his rage toward himself inside, but he does it.

And that’s exactly what he does, when their reunion in the airport has them at each other’s throats again , and as Sam goes on ahead, refusing for him to follow (of course, he does follow, anyway), and Bucky can’t help himself.

“Jeg skal være sikker på at du kommer tilbage.”

He utters the words through slightly gritted teeth, not realising how his breathing picks up too quickly until the other man glances back at him from the entrance of the aircraft, “What did you say?”

It’s the first time he’s not cursed at himself, and Sam’s response makes him jump in his skin. Honestly, the realisation of the words only settles afterwards, and he knows there’s no way he understood it. Not only is Danish one of the least widespread languages, so the chance of Sam even being aware of it is less than microscopical, but his voice is also in a steady fight with the wind. Lucky for once, huh.

“Nothing,” he lies. Sam doesn’t look convinced. Bucky adds, “Talking to myself. I’m still coming with you.”

The sounds are too loud around them, making him all the more eager to get inside. One of the many wonderful side effects of the aftermath of being brainwashed? Massive, stubborn headaches.

Funny enough, the pain might just be getting worse when the man in front of him visibly sighs, “Suit yourself.”

…

Going after the Flag Smashers, getting their asses handed to them, a certain thorn in his eye showing up, it all goes too quick for Bucky to fully comprehend.

In the end, Sam saves his life, because it’s Sam. Sam, who put his trust in him when he didn’t know him, when he had absolutely no reason to, and yet he did. He’s been spending a lot of time scared that the other man will come to regret it.

And it’s when they’re off the road and the world stops moving, and suddenly, Bucky’s looming inches above Sam’s face, grass grazing and tickling their faces. Or he’d probably feel that, if he wasn’t biting his cheek so hard that he might draw blood.

Sam groans but doesn’t move an inch.

I want to kiss you so fucking bad, Bucky wants to say. But that would be the stupidest and most reckless decision of his yet. Instead, he swallows the words and tells him, “Could’ve used that shield.”

Sam’s grip on his arms tightens, “Get off of me.”

The other man’s voice is strained and he pushes him off, leaving him to stare at the sky with a certain feeling of numbness.

He’s prepared for a long walk back from wherever they’ve ended up, too, Bucky’s not really paying attention to the surroundings besides the road and Sam relieving the tension that’s built up between them (far from uncommon with them, he’s got to admit) with his usual joking jabs.

He didn’t welcome his apology for Redwing much. It’s true, he hated that droid, but that doesn’t mean he’s not sorry… although, deeper inside of him he knows he’s saying sorry for totally different reasons.

I’m sorry you got hurt, is what. I’m sorry you had to pull me out of the fire that I got us into.

“What’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?”

Bucky sighs non committedly, he’s heard this one before. “It’s computing.”

And Sam laughs, softly and with a warm tinge that makes it hard for him to keep walking like he doesn’t care. The man next to him tries to be smug, and in the past these pokes at him would get him riled up and walk away without sparing it another thought.

It’s different now. He looks at his smirk for just a second before turning his head, and it’s fine, he won’t notice, stop worrying.

Sam doesn’t hate him, he’s realised. He realised that a while ago, admittedly, but what’s more important to the pressing in Bucky’s chest, Sam doesn’t fear him.

All this pain, hurt and confusion, the Avengers torn up from the inside and running from the government for years, and yet, there isn’t a hint of resentment in his steady voice, his deep brown eyes or the way he falls into step with his own body. Sam makes that joke because he’s a smug idiot who doesn’t let defeat bring him down. Maybe, he even makes that joke to get a smile out of Bucky.

The man at his side doesn’t hate him anymore. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever hated him in the first place.

“You know what?” Sam says in between his breathy laughs, sounding like he just discovered a lost treasure, “I can see it! I can see the gears turning.”

If Bucky had it in him, he would dare to smile. He would dare to join his laughter, but he doesn’t. It’d probably come out sounding all wrong, anyway.

Which is why he keeps his shoulders tight and gets back on track with what happened, and Sam follows suit. Sometimes he’s convinced the other man can read his mind. And because their arms move in synchron, within a distance where he could so easily reach out for his hand and feel what it’s like to hold it, his thoughts start running along with his mouth.

“Hvorfor gav du slip?” Bucky keeps his eyes glued to his feet, determined to keep the question to himself only, “Hvis jeg var modig nok havde jeg kysset dig.”

Sam’s voice returns to him, “Hm?”

“What?”

His co-worker laughs again, but he furrows his brows and suddenly it’s not that exact warmth that Bucky might’ve just allowed himself to feel safe in. Like the man next to him sees something in him no one does, not even himself. He’d like to know whatever secret Sam’s unlocked about him behind that look.

“You’re so weird sometimes, man.” he’s told, but there isn’t a single shred of judgement painted on any of the syllables. Sometimes.

…

“What was rule number two again?”

It was a stupid question, because Bucky knows. Those rules have been repeated too many times for him not to repeat it to himself whenever he needed to silence everything around him.

Don’t do anything illegal. Don’t hurt anyone. I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James Bucky Barnes.

Then why, after a failed mission, after meeting that fraud who thinks he can just take on the shield like it’s nothing, after his therapist put him and Sam through a conversation that led nowhere at all, does he feel like he just broke that rule?

Of course, he’s been bending the rules a bit.

Of course, he knows why he’s feeling like this.

True to his word, Sam waits for him outside. “When we’re done, we both can go on seperate, long vacations, and never see each other again.”

The warmth that radiated off of the other man earlier that day had vanished somewhere unknown, and the pressure on that last part made it clear. That’s what fills Bucky with the type of guilt and regret that makes him want to rip his own skin off. He’s all too familiar with that feeling already.

He doesn’t blame Sam one bit, obviously. Well, he’d still like to grab that shield from John Walker and shove it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine, but the anger he’d misplaced on his co-worker, it vanished as fast as it had first arrived.

Sam is so fucking good, it almost makes him want to cry.

Sam trusted his heart, trusted what he believed was right, and he didn’t know the government was going to snatch that opportunity and hand the shield over to some nobody who doesn’t know what it stands for. Hand it over like they had any say in the matter.

Bucky didn’t doubt Steve’s decision for a second, and Bucky didn’t- doesn’t doubt Sam. Especially now, he looks at him in the evening glow and understands why Steve trusted him when he trusted no one else. Bucky trusts him. He hasn’t been this confident about anything in ages.

But because his stubbornness never fails to take a hold of him, Sam doesn’t know that.

The other man notices him coming and is already walking. He doesn’t look him in the eyes anymore. Why would he? It’s not like he earned it.

Bucky tries hard to breathe around the lump in his throat.

And he doesn’t even bother hiding his contempt around Walker anymore, while Sam keeps him tied to reality, a hand on his chest that causes everything in him to freeze, until the malfunction can’t make him do anything other than turn around and walk away.

Down to business, that’s what they fucking talked about.

Bucky has an idea and he’s gonna get it out and make it a reality, and, surprisingly enough, Sam agrees. We go deal with it.

It makes for another long walk. But now it’s long and painfully silent. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He steals glances at Sam too many times for it to be considered casual, or fleeting, and he memorizes his fingers tapping his thigh mid-walk, his jawline, every single eyelash that’s blinking hard, a habit of his when he’s stressed, Bucky’s noticed.

Their movements aren’t synchronised anymore. It’s sort of poetic.

He doesn’t realise he’s muttering it to himself, “Undskyld.” because he doesn’t have the courage to hear Sam’s answer, “Undskyld.” because he knows there’s no way the man next to him is going to forgive him, “Undskyld.” because he doesn’t deserve his forgiveness.

He’d overstepped the boundary. Whatever progress they’d made in this weird dynamic of theirs, whatever closeness became a tangible size, is wiped clean from the slate because he was pissed. But it had nothing to do with him. Steve had, but the shield doesn’t. Sam doesn’t need him to tell him that.

“That some sort of mantra?” is what breaks him out of his head.

Sam’s got an eyebrow raised, his hands absentmindedly reaching for something, phone most likely, given they have to move fast.

“What do you mean?”

So the other man slows down and tilts his head, “What you just whispered to yourself.”

Yeah, Bucky’s a horrendous liar. And he can’t feign ignorance around Sam. He can’t fake anything, his body language, his thoughts, his emotions. He wished they’d shut the fuck up for a minute.

He sniffs, shrugs, pondering on the easiest way to get out of this confrontation, if you can even call it that.

“No.”

“Didn’t sound like English.”

“‘Cause it isn’t.”

Sam looks terribly kissable right now. Not because of the streetlights or the faint noise of traffic buzzing around them, but because he’s standing under the moon, almost glowing. Bucky imagines his stupid, addictive smile, and how the moon doesn’t stand a chance compared to his beauty.

He wishes that he could lean over and the man wouldn’t push him away. He’s a tragic romantic.

His co-worker also has that expression on his face that tells him he’s too drained for snark, probably incredibly close to calling it a day. Actually, he expects him to speak, but five seconds pass, and his whole demeanor shifts, and then they’re walking again.

Once again, Sam seems to know him better than he knows himself. We go deal with it. Never see each other again. It sounds great, sounds perfect, sounds ideal, he tells his internal voice, because if he repeats it enough times he might just convince himself to believe it.

It’s not like the thought of Sam never looking at him, never speaking to him and never, ever, wanting anything to do with him again makes him want to scream until he’s got no air left in his lungs. That would be ridiculous.

…

Things happen, and at this point, Bucky just comes to accept it.

It’s almost become a bitter-tasting routine. Something bad happens, his plan backfires, something worse happens, it goes too fast for him to comprehend, so he’s been attempting for the last months to only focus on the moment.

The moment and the memories creeping in the shadows. They’re the hardest to keep at bay.

And at the moment, he’s seated on Sharon’s couch in her luxurious apartment in Madripoor, she’s telling them what to do, because their plan didn’t exactly work, Zemo’s wandering around like the cockroach he’d let out, and Sam’s taken his fucking shirt off.

So Bucky keeps his look square on his drink.

If he keeps his posture, trains his attention on Sharon’s voice, maybe he’ll avoid feeling so flustered.

He’s become pretty accustomed to faking it, admittedly. Not exactly a good thing to lie to his therapist, he’s well aware, but that’s a problem for when this is over. Dr. Raynor, she just… she couldn’t understand him.

That’s not her fucking job, he reminds himself. Her job is to help him move on with his life. Put the past behind him, get a fresh start. Talk about his feelings. “You have to talk about it,” she’d told him. “You can’t ignore your trauma. It’s dangerous.”

She’s right, but like he told her, he’s fine. Totally fine.

And that’s not what he’s struggling with right now, anyway. He hadn’t let Raynor in on anything about Sam apart from ignoring his messages, because these feelings of his are surely one-sided, and besides, Bucky doesn’t think he deserves it.

Being in love, he thinks it’s called. Or maybe he’s just not ready for it.

“Try to blend in.” Sharon’s voice calls in the distance. Her smile is incredibly smug for some reason.

It doesn’t faze him that Sam’s trying to get his attention, and that she leaves the room, until the other man’s sitting next to him (now fully dressed, both to his luck and disappointment), making it, like, 200 times harder to ignore him. And he’s examining him with those all-knowing eyes of his.

Sam can read people pretty easily. Or maybe it’s just Bucky. Or maybe he’s just too obvious, that anyone could read him like an open book.

“Bucky.” is what he says, and Bucky simply nods tightlipped, but apparently that doesn’t serve as sufficient acknowledgement for Sam, because he places a hand on his shoulder.

He feels sort of pathetic for not knowing how to breathe now. Such a simple touch. A friendly touch. A gesture. Yet he can’t think of anything else.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zemo’s watching them and opens his mouth, but the man next to him beats him to it with, “Didn’t you hear her? Go.”

The hard tone always sounds wrong in Sam’s whole being.

And the man looking at them accepts the defeat, surprisingly enough, seeping out of the room faster than Bucky could blink.

So, they’re alone. Cool. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, besides keep drinking. Keep drinking, don’t say anything stupid, don’t hurt him more than you already have.

When he finally chances a look at Sam, he seems… troubled.

He’s not sure if it’s his imagination playing tricks on him, or if he’s stupidly hopeful, but somehow, it feels like the other man’s got something on his mind. What that is, who knows.

The hand on his shoulder hasn’t left.

“Hey,” he starts, barely a sound, more a whisper, perhaps in fear that Bucky would startle and hide away, “I won’t force you to talk about it- or, well, anything.”

Did Sam just stutter? That was definitely his imagination. He’s just… he’s so… warm. Comforting. Beautiful. Bucky’s hand is getting clammy around the glass.

And when he looks at the man again, his big eyes are utterly sincere, so much so that Bucky would rip his heart out and hand it to him if he wished.

He’s not sure how well he’s doing with controlling his face, careful, not to offer any tells.

How would Sam react if he kissed him, right now? If he made a big, dumb love confession? He doesn’t even know how to describe his feelings to him, so it’d probably be clumsy. Messy. And his worst fear of all, that the man next to him would push him off in confusion, or embarrassment, or disgust.

Bucky can’t risk it.

Sam sighs, “I’m just worried about you.”

That makes him frown, and his co-worker looks back in bewilderment. He should stop doing that. Stop looking at him like he means something to him.

It’s the look that pushes the question out before he can think, “Why?”

Sam just seems tired. Not tired of your shit, but rather tired of you talking yourself down, kind of. That’s what he gets from his face, anyway.

“Come on, Buck.”

“I mean, aren’t we supposed to never see each other again?” he then asks, but it comes out more blunt, and sharper than he intended.

Sam retracts his hand. His shoulder aches to follow it.

“Mmhh.” is all the other man’s voice comes with. He folds his hands in his lap, stares at it for a while like it’s the most interesting thing on the planet. Why, oh God, why does he look like he just got his heart broken? “Yeah, I did say that.”

He’s only seen that expression on Sam a handful of times. Once, when Steve gave him the shield. Two, when his friend- Torres, that was his name, mentioned something about Afghanistan and Sam promptly jumped out of the open shaft without a warning. Three, when he’d pushed him off of him in the field. What does it mean now?

Bucky’s brain plays all his words over and over, but doesn’t know how to process them, or analyze them, or come to a natural conclusion. So he downs the last drop of whiskey, “Jeg har brug for dig.”

Geez, that was blunt. He guesses it's thanks to the stars he chose the right language to blurt that out, and Bucky proceeds to release the tight grip on his glass, about to get up and follow Sharon’s order, but Sam’s looking at him again, and as he established forever ago, that makes him weak in the knees. His entire body, actually, now that he thinks about it.

“Is that- that the same language?” Sam asks. Bucky’s awkwardly frozen mid-sitting, mid-standing, listening. “You know, you were talking to yourself. Outside the station.”

He’s right. He always is. So Bucky nods.

“It’s a saying.” and that only makes it the other man’s turn to frown, understandable. Not the most creative excuse, but now he’s gotta run with it, “Like ‘Don’t give up’, or whatever.”

He recognizes every look in Sam’s eyes, jotting them down in his memory in fear of forgetting the only person that makes him feel human. His co-worker is tying him to reality. Yep, another revelation, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

This is the I don’t believe you for a second look. “That’s what you said? ‘Don’t give up’?”

Bucky snorts, “Nope.”

And so they both stand up, and from the other man already steps ahead of him, it’s clear he’s ruined another conversation. Like Sam gave up on understanding him altogether, and it makes him feel sick, because he isn’t exactly making it easy for him.

Look at me, Bucky hopes. Just look at me again. Please.

And Sam does. “And here I thought we were beginning to get along.”

…

Sam’s sigh is all too heavy for Bucky not to notice.

He thought he’d distract himself from Zemo’s annoying presence and annoying private plane by polishing his hand, but suddenly, the man in the other row looks painfully hopeless.

Sam can’t be that. It’s all wrong. He’s supposed to be made of sunshine and full of hope. He makes Bucky have some sort of hope.

“You okay?” he finds himself asking. He’d even put a hand on his shoulder the same way the other man did back in Madripoor, but it feels a little too personal when he remembers the third person in the room.

By the way Sam jumps just half an inch in his seat, so subtle you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking closely, Bucky can only guess he’s surprised he’s the one initiating conversation, for once.

“Yeah,” he answers, but it doesn’t sound all that true. “Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through.”

That’s the thing about Sam, because he cares, cares like he’s pouring out his heart on everyone and saves nothing for himself. He cared about Bucky after knowing him for a day. He had a hard time believing it, but it’s true. And it’s what he likes- loves… loves about the other man the most.

Sam continues, “And Nagel referring to the American test subject like… like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person.”

Bucky feels stupid for nodding along. He should be saying something, or he feels like he should be making up for weirding him out back in Sharon’s flat, or apologise for yelling at him in the shootout, or anything. Apologise for breaking out the douche who’s plane they’re currently in, most of all.

See, talking seems easy, but it’s not when the words are overthinked as deeply as he does himself. Maybe that’s why him and Sam are as they are. Or maybe it’s in spite of that.

When Sam talks, he means every word. His voice is hushed, and he’s leaning into Bucky’s space now (which may or may not make him panic) to make sure Zemo stays out of their business. Not that they both don’t know he’s not going to do that, obviously. Again- his fault.

“Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.” takes him by surprise, though.

In his mind, in his inner voice of logic that he never listens to, he instantly understands why Sam says it, and agrees. There’s a lot of people in this world Bucky’s wronged. There’s a lot of people he hasn’t, but he still longs to help, or somehow feels guilty for. He still wants to change things. Isaiah is on the top of the list.

Which list is Sam on top of?

He’d not thought about his feelings like that before, but it hits him like it hit him back in Madripoor. He’s the only one I have left is replaced with He’s the only one that makes me feel like this so easily. Lightheaded and aching for his company, his attention, whatever else Sam will spare him.

Instead of agreeing with him like his brain is telling him, though, his pride kicks in and circles back on The shield is yours, Sam. You fucking perfect asshole.

And Bucky’s not gonna take the shield, it’s bullshit. The other man knows it’s bullshit, and the look they share is a silent agreement that it’s bullshit.

Mysteriously, the cockroach owning the plane disappears to the bathroom, or whatever.

Maybe he’ll put his hand on Sam’s shoulder now. That would be meaningful. Would prove to the man that he cares, and he knows that Bucky cares about Isaiah, and the shield, and the mission, but he doesn’t fucking know that he cares about him.

But once again, his stomach drops and he keeps his hand to himself. Stupid.

It’s when the other man leaves his space and opts for leaning against the window that he has time to wonder about Sam fully, and why he hesitated back there. They shouldn’t see each other again, but he hesitated.

Does he regret saying it? No, that’s crazy.

It’s for the best, Bucky figures. He supposes he shouldn’t mourn the loss before it’s even happened, but it already seems like he’s reaching out in the darkness for Sam, who’s better than he’ll ever be, who deserves better than to drag him around like this, and it’s like he’s already gone.

Fuck, he really should talk with Dr. Raynor about that.

And the man he can’t stop looking at would probably have that concerned look on his face if he heard Bucky putting himself down like this again, out loud.

Sam wanted to talk to you that nagging voice tells him, for the millionth time. Why didn’t you let him?

He can’t figure out what he would’ve said if he could go back and change it. Stay completely silent? That would annoy Sam. Take that love confession by the horns? Sam would let him down in the nicest, most gentle way ever, he’s sure.

That wouldn’t hurt that much, but his chest always gets a little tighter when he lies like that. It would hurt endlessly more.

Bucky does come back to reality, eventually, when a door clicks shut and Zemo’s talking to his friend (servant? pilot? who gives a shit), and his co-worker's breathing has evened out.

It’s probably more than a little creepy to watch him sleeping. Hm. But peace rests over him and it, somehow, stretches its wings towards himself as well, regardless of Sam’s position with his neck and half laying on his arm that doesn’t look comfortable in any shape or form.

“Jeg ville følge dig til verdens ende,” Bucky says. It’s barely a whisper to himself, to shut up his head crying out loud of possibilities, because what if Sam wanted him to stay? What if in some miraculous alternative universe, he felt the same way? It’s a daydream, is what it is, “hvis du bare ville give mig lov.”

…

He clenches his fist, unclenches, clenches.

Sam seems worried. Bucky can’t see him, since he’s turned his back towards him and faces the window while gaining the feeling back in that vibranium arm of his, but it radiates off of him.

Maybe he does need the space his co-worker’s giving him. Or maybe he just needs a drink and a hug and a chance to sleep. Who knows?

He hasn’t hugged anyone since reuniting with Steve. Well, unless you count Sam saving him as a hug, which he doesn’t.

It’s when he turns around again that the other man is, first of all, a lot closer than he expected him to be, secondly, giving him a small, tense smile. But it doesn’t look uncomfortable, in fact, the effect is exactly the opposite, and Bucky can’t help but return it, gratefully.

He doesn’t think too much about this smile not being forced, like the ones he’s gotten used to doing in public. Sam doesn’t need to know that.

Bucky also is, for once, two steps ahead of his co-worker, answering the question he doesn’t have time to ask, “I’m fine.”

Not easily fooled, he knows the man watching him from the couch looks wary, but Sam’s probably too shocked by the fight and Zemo’s escape to argue. He himself knows he is, which doesn’t help his guilt. But what point is there in guilt anymore? It’s not like he can un-let him out of prison.

He sits down with reasonable space between them. Significantly further away from each other than back in Sharon’s flat, not close enough to touch.

Truth be told, Bucky’s still processing it. Zemo’s escape, he accepted that easily, and it’s probably the least surprising thing he’s experienced in a while. When Ayo removed his prosthetic, that was something else.

And his friend left without another word. What could she have said that made the case anymore clear, really?

They don’t trust him, and despite the overshadowing thought of No one trusts me, Nothing’s changed, Not even myself, it’s hard to blame Shuri, or T’Challa. They saved his mind, saved his life, and he’ll be in debt to them until his grave.

Bucky understands them, he does. He does. He wouldn’t trust himself.

But a little sliver of his stomach still wrings itself inside out of… betrayal? He doesn’t know if that’s the right word, but it’s sufficient for now. Of not being told. Of not knowing everything there was to know about this thing that was a part of his body now. Still feels partially alien, a separate entity altogether.

But there’s no anger to be found. Instead, he lets his attention fall upon Sam. As always, “Are you okay, though?”

The shorter man furrows his brows. Smile’s still intact. “Depends on your definition of okay.”

Of course, he makes another bloody joke, at a time like this. Bucky snorts, and his co-worker looks all too pleased to have it succeed.

Sam glances back, seems like he’s seriously considering the thought of a drink that Bucky’s too exhausted to fulfill, but apparently decides against it, “I didn’t know you were so sentimental, Buck.”

“Can you shut your face?”

Why does it feel exceptionally good to laugh when Sam laughs? Doesn’t surprise him, the feeling he supposes are metaphorical butterflies in his gut doesn’t, either.

The other man’s keeping his eyes in his lap again, picking at the skin around his fingernails and, for the first time ever in the time he’s known him, looks nervous. It’s strange, but so endearing, and he’s so, so pretty.

Funny, that word endearing, Sam’s strong arms could wrap around him as easily as they could take several people out if he wished, which- okay, don’t think about that right now. The imaginary sensation of the other man’s skin against his and Bucky’s face buried in the crook of his neck, that is.

He feels lighter. Sam always knows what’s needed after a shared experience like this. Does he know him too well?

What Bucky does know is that the other man stands up, and instead of heading towards the door, he passes him on the way to pick up their jackets. A hand on his shoulder again. Gracing it more than a steady grip, but still.

He doesn’t stay for long, but his fingers glide down his arm a bit. The touch is the softest thing possible, ghosting over him like Sam doesn’t want him to notice.

But he does. A shiver runs down his spine.

It’s so faint that it disappears as unexpectedly as it comes, and his co-worker’s already at the other side of the room when he finally gains the courage to raise his chin.

Sam’s attention is taken by his cellphone, so Bucky decides to speak, “I don’t blame you, ya know.”

A beat before he notices, snaps the phone shut, tightens the hold on his jacket just a smidge, “For what?”

“The shield.”

“I thought you did.” he replies, because yeah, that’s what he said literally minutes ago. He doesn’t look offended, though. Good.

When Bucky can’t find the sufficient words, he nods. Licks his lips. Then tries something, “I’m an asshole, I know.” and grimaces at himself, “I’m too stubborn. I’ve been listening- I listened to you. I put all this shit on you… I’m trying to apologise.”

The other man smiles again, not tense anymore. Not gripping the jacket like it’s lifeline anymore, either. He slips it on instead.

He just wants Sam to know, so badly, that he cares. This is a start. “Sorry. I can’t believe my apologies suck, too.”

The silence is calm, it’s maybe ten, fifteen seconds tops. Just enough time for his insides to freak out before the shorter man hands him his own jacket, and then offers him a hand to pull him up. Act cool. Act fucking cool, Bucky.

He also wishes he could cling to Sam forever, but that would be the direct opposite of cool.

“It doesn’t,” he tells him, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, pats his arm a couple of times to get the message across, he guesses, “Thank you. And thank you for having my back. You know, I think this communication thing could work, if we really tried.”

Stop being so ridiculous. Stop being so fucking dreamy. Seriously.

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes, and if he looks lovestruck right now (he’s fairly sure he does), he’ll just have to feign ignorance later if the other man notices. This feels… yeah, you guessed it, good. Tingling in his chest a little. A lot.

He doesn’t even care that the man in front of him reaches for his phone when it rings, controlling his neutral tone of voice when he says, “Tak fordi du stolede på mig.”

Bucky’s fairly certain the words go unnoticed when he puts on his jacket, but of course, Sam covers the microphone and reaches him with a promise, “One day I’ll figure out what it is you’re whispering to yourself about.”

…

On the water, the 2am darkness enveloping him and reminding him just how alone he is, Bucky has time to think.

Mere days ago, the government’s very own Captain America murdered one of the members of the Flag Smashers, and in an eerie and familiar haze, all he and Sam could do was watch. So did Karli. So did numerous regular citizens with mobile phones.

And before Bucky could break and chase Walker down (because let’s face it, a government putting him in the suit? Bucky doesn’t trust those superiors for a second), his co-worker’s got a hold on his wrist and tells him he needs to go check on his sister.

When he follows along, Sam doesn’t complain.

Maybe, possibly, the other man even invited him. It’s not like he’s got anywhere else to be, and it seemed like, for once, Sam didn’t know what to do. A timeout is necessary, he said.

That’s an understatement.

Bucky just hopes that Karli and the rest of the Flag Smashers did the same and got the hell out of there. The shorter man’s got her number, so he suspects he told her so himself.

And Zemo? How the fuck is he supposed to know? The world’s gone to absolute shit, and they’re stuck in the middle in some kind of limbo.

Add Bucky’s unresolved feelings for his co-work- friend? Friend.

Surprisingly enough, Sam’s sister didn’t seem particularly surprised that her brother brought someone along.

Sarah’s a heaven sent. She smiled brightly and hugged him with one arm like they’ve known each other for years, juggling things out of crates on the harbour like it’s nothing. Witty, albeit a tad more serious than Sam, and she doesn’t take his shit for a second.

Her sons were more overwhelming, but Bucky’s not used to being around children, mind you.

They ran to him in excitement, speaking over each other, and he took a step back, because those creeping memories of the soldier and the fear of hurting someone again is rooted too deep to disappear.

Sam patted his back, though. It’s fine. You’re fine.

The boys also couldn’t take their eyes off his left arm and convinced him to lift them both when they bet he couldn’t. They surely know how to drive a bargain.

It’s funny, how much they liked that thing. Makes him think he could get used to the extension himself, eventually.

Sam’s family is so… normal. They’re warm and excited and hard-working and hilarious. He likes the way the other man looks around here, even more bright than usual, domestic and bantering with his sister for a living. They remind him of his own family. He won’t think about that.

But it’s the third night he spends in their home, after another one of the best dinners he’s ever had in his long life, amusing the boys with superhero stories until they’re exhausted and sent to bed, that Bucky wakes up in a cold sweat on the couch.

There you are, nightmares. It’s been a while.

It’s not surprising, of course, but he’s been avoiding sleep until the point of passing out, lately.

And Bucky didn’t know where to go. He didn’t want to rummage around in the kitchen he’s been too kindly invited to for alcohol, which they most likely didn’t have lying around anyways, as well as risk waking any of the family sleeping blissfully unaware.

But he also couldn’t stay, he was itching to move.

So, here he is. He found his way back to the harbour, and Sam’s family boat, not even dressed in more than his t-shirt, banged up jeans and boots, but the cold is a welcome distraction.

Would be good if he had a bottle of whiskey too, but whatever.

It’s times like this he’d rage inward on himself. Curse his head, curse his feelings. Curse his fucking decisions and stubbornness. Curse Walker and Zemo and Hydra. Curse the shield and curse Steve.

Yeah, it’s too much. He really should let Dr. Raynor in on this, if he gets a chance to go back to his regular sessions, that is.

The staggering quiet almost invites him to yell some of that rage out loud. Until, “Thought you might be here.”

Bucky would’ve sprung up and grabbed whatever could be used as a weapon nearest, if he didn’t immediately notice the tenderness in Sam’s voice, noticeably hoarse. He doesn’t know what to answer, but the other man sits down across from him, looking exceptionally soft.

You’re a goner, Bucky Barnes.

The silence between them is nowhere near awkward, but he feels like breaking it regardless. “Sorry I woke you.”

Sam huffs, and he imagines he’s rolling his eyes, “You didn’t.”

Hm. He scratches his neck and his chin. The cold is suddenly becoming a problem, so he wraps his arms loosely around himself. The other man’s doing the same, despite wearing a sweater.

“Nightmare?” he asks, eventually. Bucky nods.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

Is this the end of the conversation? God, he has no idea how to continue, anyways.

He’d ask about it. Ask Sam what he’s seeing behind his eyelids at night, and if it invokes the exact same kind of pain he feels himself. Ask him about the Air Force and how his world changed and came crashing down. Ask him about Riley, who he only knows by name and a single photo.

Bucky can’t get the words over his tongue. Instead, he just wonders why he’s here in the first place, why Sam’s still sticking around with him and why he was allowed into his life.

Well, he followed him first. But he doesn’t feel like he deserves the peace he’s been given the last few days, or Sam’s nephews looking at him with wide eyes and zero judgement. Sam looking at him with zero judgement. Fuck.

He clears his throat, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He’s adjusted his eyes to the darkness now, and there goes the shorter man looking at him, not intensely but just… looking, the way that makes Bucky’s stomach jump in loops and urge him to stand up and kiss him already.

Sam shakes his head, smile timid but sure, “Another time. I’ll let you know.”

Oh boy, does he know that feeling. They’ll talk about it, eventually. He’s not ready himself, but one day he will be. He hopes so. “Me too.”

The boat’s swaying subtly, a sliver of moonlight is touching Sam’s hand on the railing and Bucky thinks he might fall into an non-existent black hole.

On the contrary, the other man is slightly shivering from the ocean wind. He shouldn’t think about what it’s like to hold him. They’re friends now. Friends. Friends.

Still doesn’t stop him from sealing the deal to himself, “Jeg elsker dig.”

Like he hasn’t known all this time. Since that day they reunited, since before. Bucky’s painfully in love with someone he’ll never have the courage to tell, openly and upfront, anyways. Maybe he’ll get over it.

It does take him a few minutes before he notices Sam’s soft smile, worn like his heart on his sleeve, second nature and drawing everyone in with ease, turning into a shirt-eating grin.

Weird. Whatever. Wait-

“Really?” he asks him.

Oh my God. Oh no. Oh fuck.

Bucky’s eyes must widen to the size of fucking teacups. He’s never been this eager to get up and move out of a situation before till now, “Sorry?”

Sam notices his unease before he even finds it himself, “Bucky.”

“Oh my God.”

“Bucky-”

“I have to go.”

Doesn’t get very far. Five inches maybe, before the shorter man stops him in motion. Bucky could easily shake his hand off, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. Sam gets under his skin every time.

His thumb caresses his wrist, “I want you to stay. Can you stay?”

Fucking fuck. Bucky gulps the embarrassment down and relaxes his stiff shoulders. Or tries to, at least. His ears are ringing.

“Will you look at me?” Sam then asks, and how could he refuse anything from that man?

Takes some courage, of course, but he has to. Take the rejection already. Come on. But when he turns around his friend doesn’t seem disgusted, or disappointed, like he fully expected him to.

“Stop looking at me like that.” he finds himself saying, before he can shut his stupid mouth up. And Sam looks absolutely desperate, “Like what?”

“Like I mean something to you.”

Kiss me. I wish you would kiss me. Sam’s perfectly formed lips are still in a smile, not small, not a grin. But just right. And then a hand is touching Bucky’s cheek.

“That’s the thing, you idiot.” the shorter man tells him, “I can’t exactly stop it. But if you want me to-”

“Have you known all along?” he interrupts with. Feels like laughing at himself. God, that would be beyond ridiculous, wouldn’t it? Saying everything on his mind, not knowing his friend heard every word of it. Secret’s out.

There’s another hand finding its way to his face, “I didn’t. Google helped me- uh, after Madripoor. Took me a few tries with the spelling before it gave me a clue. And, well…”

“My pronunciation is pretty sloppy.” Bucky’s circling around what’s happening. Why is he doing this? Because it’s too good to be true, probably. Please don’t be a dream.

Embarrassing, then… then the warmth against his cheeks. Then the impossibly soft and meaningful eyes not escaping Bucky’s for anything. Then his heart beating too fast, like it’s going to crawl up his throat and escape his vessel.

Sam shakes his head with a laugh. Heartily, caring, “Do you mean what you said? You love me?” to which Bucky laughs himself.

“Yeah,” he feels weak in the vocal chords, but gets it out, because he has to, “‘Course I fucking do. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

And there, on Sam’s family boat in the middle of the night, wind rushing behind his ears and his breathing too loud like everything isn’t quite real, Bucky smiles like his life depends on it. Because the man in front of him deserves to know. He needs him to know. And fuck the world. “Will you kiss me now?”

Sam’s smile is so fucking pretty, it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. He looks at him like he’s special, and he feels it. Feels everything deeper and deeper, “I thought you’d never ask.”

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brain-jarred · 3 years

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Chapter one. Marriage problems

In the dank bowels of New York, it was a normal day of extracting brains from dubiously consenting test subjects, and Dr. Hal was bored. Bored with his life, he knew he was smart, he knew he had a brilliant mind. In theory this job was in fact nurturing his mind, and putting it to good use in bettering mankind, and-

Yeah yeah whatever. He knew that this was for a good cause, as he carefully cut open the patient's skull, revealing the squishy and oozing brain. He sighed, and his colleague finally took notice of his dour mood. “Dr. Hal? What's wrong? You don't seem very enthusiastic about this.” Dr. Param asked, looking up from their clipboard which they were doodling in the margins of. Dr. Param was very much like Dr. Hal, in the sense that both of them had similar backgrounds. Though despite this similarity, the two were as different as could be. “Come on, Hal! Put some pep into that neuro-needle!” They said cheerfully, pumping their metal arm in the air, much like a cheerleader. In response, Dr. Hal just rolled his eyes and took the neuro-needle out of the tray, and did what you do with a needle.

Once he was done with it, he returned it to the tray, and the doctor began the process of removing the brain from the skull. He sighed again, and turned to Dr. Param. “Hey Dr. Param? Do you ever feel like… I don't know, that we could be doing literally anything else with our lives?” He questioned as he lifted the brain with one hand, and cut the spinal cord with the other. “Like, I know that this is to improve mankind and everything, but… this is just so…” He plopped the brain into a jar, staring at it for a bit. “Boring.” He said flatly. Dr. Param looked shocked. “What?! No way!” They retorted, limping their metal wrist joint in at Dr. Hal. They put down their clipboard and slid a pan containing a brain across the counter. Then, they sat their elbow where it had been. “Listen Hal, Dr. Hal. All jobs have their… their dips!” “Dips?” “Like low points on a graph!” Dr. Param said while walking around. Their six metal legs made clicking sounds as they moved on the metal floors. They had their arms behind their back. They circled around the now brainless body that was laying on the surgical table. They patted one of the legs to accentuate their point. “You just-” Another slap to the cadaver’s legs.”-Just gotta keep going!”

“Dr. Param, I appreciate the enthusiasm, as well as the attempts at motivation, but you should stop slapping the body.” “You aren't listening to me!” Dr. Param slapped the body. “No. I’m not.” The scientist sighed and walked over to the sink, removing his thick plastic gloves, placing them in the cleaning solution. His hands were… not human. Because neither Dr. Hal, nor Doctor Param, were human beings. Doctor Param was a centipede-esque cyborg, maybe even centaur-like in their design. They had one almost normal looking hand, if not for the sharp claws on the tips, and one needle like appendage on the other arm. The other legs, six of them, were simple, like a bug’s legs. They had huge red eyes that stared annoyed into the back of Dr. Hal’s head. Or rather, they were staring at Dr. Hal’s brain, that was visible through the translucent psychic aura that made up his body. He looked very much like a person, but without bones, skin, muscle, or even nerves. He looked like a person composed entirely of blue jelly. The only solid parts of him were his brain and his eyes. The two doctors both had human brains, greatly enhanced, yet still human, brains.

“I’m just saying-” “I know what you're saying.” Dr. Hal interjected. “You're saying I should just accept the life I've been given, and I shouldn't wish for anything more.” “Wow. Rude.” The cyborg huffed. ”That's your problem! You are rude. When people try to cheer you up, you just-” they waved their arms around. “You push them away! You push me away.” He huffed. “Why have you been so- what am I doing wrong!? You have been so on edge lately.” “I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Dr. Hal looked away and began to pad out of the room. “Don't walk away from me!” They said, raising their voice. “Please! Let's just talk!” They said, throwing their arms up in the air.They had been working with each other for sixteen years, and though Dr. Hal was walking away, and acting standoffish, he did care about his colleague. The two of them had been working together for sixteen years. The pair acted like a married couple when they argued. But really, they were both married to their jobs, not each other. Recently though, Dr. Hal’s marriage with work was failing. Like a marriage in which both of the participants were no longer in love with each other.

Dr. Param followed Dr. Hal for a bit, before sighing and going to sit down in one of the chairs outside the operating theatre. It was a bit awkward to sit in, considering they had a 5 foot long body. In reality, the bug-like cyborg laid on the chair rather than sat in it. They watched as Dr. Hal put his hands in his lab coat and power-walked away to his quarters. They hated when he got like this. Lately they had been noticing that his colleague's heart just wasn't in his work like it used to be. Dr. Param missed it, back when things were simple. Executing tests on subjects, researching, and all the other marvelous things- they weren't fun anymore. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be fun, maybe this work was supposed to be hard and laborious. But… Ugh. Dr. Param just sat there, trying to think of ways to reignite that fire that had been reduced to cinders within Dr. Hal. Meanwhile, Dr. Hal was in his quarters. The off-white walls surrounded him, it was a small room, only about 9 feet wide and long. The ceiling was low, and if he jumped, he would probably hit his head on the ceiling. Not that he was the type to just randomly jump. That was more of Dr. Param’s thing. Being all excited and enthusiastic about their job… Dr. Hal wondered how they did it. How they managed to be as passionate about their work as they were the day they both first woke up and did their first assignments. Part of him admired it, maybe even envied it. These walls. These floors. The lights, the blood, the smell of this lab. It was all the both of them knew. Their old lives were gone. Dr. Hal wasn't supposed to miss it. He had consented to this after all. He consented to having his body removed from his brain, and having his brain utterly transformed into something inhuman. Dr. Param consented to it too. So then why did he feel like something was missing?

Why would he miss being a terminally ill cancer patient? This was a far more noble life than wasting away in a hospital bed with no family to be there as he died. Of course he did not remember being a terminally ill cancer patient, but that was what his bosses told him. They even showed him pictures of who he used to be. Birth records, I.D., photographs. All meaningless to him now.

He had been thinking more about it lately. He hadn't told anyone though. He always got the feeling that the bosses didn't like it. It was an unspoken taboo to mention the past when the goal of the organization was to further the path into the future. He closed his eyes. Well, he didn't really have eyelids. He just shaped the ectoplasm that comprised his body to slide over his eyeballs. And then there was a knock at his door, before he could tell them to come in, someone he didn't expect to see today walked into his room stiffly. The person that entered his room was a pale man, with wispy and wild white hair, and a ratty scarf worn over his lab coat. His face was round, it would have been almost friendly looking if not for the deep scowl that he wore on his face at all times. Dr. Hal sat up, and then got off his bed to stand respectfully towards the head scientist “Dr. Brian.” He remarked. “It's good to see you.” “You did good work on the last subject, but we have another assignment for you.” Doctor brian said, ignoring pleasantries and going straight for what was needed of Dr. Hal. “We have a subject coming in that is extremely high profile. Not only that, but it's going to be a vivisection. Further details will be given later.” He said in a monotone. “Oh. I see. But why are you telling me this in person? I feel like this could have been communicated in a memo.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Because you haven't been confirming your memos.” He huffed. “You have been acting highly unprofessional lately. Now tell me why that is.” He asked pointedly, glaring up at Dr. Hal. “I apologize.” He began, taking in a breath. “I have just been feeling unwell lately. I was actually going to request a week’s vacation for-” “Denied.” The head scientist interrupted. “The high profile vivisection is tomorrow.” “Oh.” Dr. Hal folded his arms. “I assume my...talents will be needed?” he asked. “Both you and Dr. Param will be needed, yes.” “Alright.” he looked away. “Tell you what-” Dr Brian began. “You can have your week's vacation after the vivisection tomorrow. It's estimated to take six hours to complete.” Dr. Hal’s eyes widened. Wow. That was more than double the length of the longest vivisections he had done. This must be someone special that they were vivisecting. “Will it be a terminal one?” He asked. “Yes.” Damn it. Dr. Hal hated the terminal ones. Usually they were performed only on death row prisoners or terminally ill patients. So he didn't feel shame about most of them, despite technically being a murderer. Well, he wasn't really a murderer. They were going to die anyway, so who cares? He certainly didn't. But it was still unpleasant to be in the mind of a dying person. It was sometimes borderline nightmarish. Of course, he wouldn't voice these opinions out loud. But Dr. Brian’s scowl still deepened. “Do what you will for the rest of today.” He huffed, and exited the room. End of chapter one

#oc #oc story #mad scientist oc #robot oc #Brainjarred #medical horror #body horror

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marvelvsmarvel · 4 years

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Marvelvsmarvel Year in Review Pt I:

Looking back on Agents of SHIELD

I’m a Friends fan and I see this photo and it’s undeniable that AoS is the Friends series of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Instead of doing a breakdown of my thoughts on Marvel’s longest running tv series’s final season and possibly being overly critical and potentially negative I’d rather do a look back on some of my favorites of the show and how important it was for the small screen corner of the greater MCU.

Favorite Character: Daisy Johnson aka Quake formerly known as Skye sometimes called Destroyer of Worlds. Seems kinda obvious and Chloe Bennet is bae but Daisy has great depth and development from the beginning and literally all the way to the end. The sacrifice play. Not maintaining the mantle of Director of Shield. She’s continually a badass and continues to quake at her own frequency (really bad pun) and eventually ends up with the loving family, biological family, and love life that she had always been searching that she wholly deserves that we have all been pining for her to find.

Favorite Plot: The Framework and Hydra World of Season 4. The 2015 Secret Wars Hail Hydra series is also one of my favorite comics depicting a Hydra run universe and while this wasn’t exactly that THIS was a well done alternate universe storyline that absolutely flipped the show in my opinion. Ian De Caestecker was phenomenal as a villain the Doctor. Good double agent Grant Ward was such a great kicker. Finishing Aida off with a Coulson Ghost Rider is just beyond epic. The most epic part of the show for me. Ugh! Love it!

Favorite Episode: Season 3 Episode 13 “Parting Shot”. I know we all cried but dammit if I don’t mind crying over that scene a million more times! And it was just such a great episode because of that amazing twist of a moment that sent Bobbi and Hunter off. Plus the concept of having them individually cheers a shot to them to say goodbye is just so cool and and worthy of a spy’s goodbye.

Was AoS a perfect show? No. I even admittedly tell people to skip the first season if they want to try to get into it. And yes I didn’t particularly like the direction they took it the last two seasons although space and time travel are always fun. But was it a good Marvel show? It quite literally should be considered the best based on the longevity alone. The show was handcuffed from the start never to be a relevant Marvel show without any A-list characters and never to receive any recognition from the MCU films. But despite this AoS gave us that fun bunch of friends in that picture above with strong, beautiful, smart and diverse leading ladies, men who were not set out to be correct or the sole heroes but who simply tried to do the right thing and were always open to love and change, and of course they were anchored down by the one person actually from the films the incomparable Clark Gregg as himself Phil Coulson. And I can’t stress enough how important it was for this show to have been successful. This flagship show for Marvel Television opened the door for the more heavy hitting Netflix series Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Iron Fist, and The Punisher all of whom also needed to reference something of the films to show continuity but not expecting to ever get to crossover with them. And these Netflix series now brought to fruition the Disney+ series like Wandavision, Falcon and The Winter Soldier, and Loki that are recognized as important parts of the MCU that will literally lead into the films. The journey for the cast and crew was indeed a real life mission in itself. As a fan a huge thank you to Jeff Loeb, Jed Whedon, Maurissa Tancharoen, Clark Gregg, Chloe Bennet, Ming Na Wen, Elizabeth Henstridge, and Ian De Caestecker who were there to start it off and fought for it to go as long as it did. We will forever be fans of yours and despite the better judgement we will always hope you might get the opportunities to relive your characters on the big screen someday. Special shoutouts the Samuel L Jackson and Colbie Smulders for making the cameos and to every other person who was ever a cast member on the show. It was an awesome run and one that should not be forgotten.

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microsuedemouse · 4 years

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man it has been a MINUTE since I made my own post about anything fandom-related on this website but @suzirya is blogging about The Old Guard and I haven’t seen anyone else talking about it really and I’ve got. some thoughts

I had literally never heard of this movie at all until a few nights ago when we were eating dinner in the living room and my dad pulled it up and said ‘hey I want to watch this’ and played the trailer for my brother and me. We were pretty much like yeah, sure, we all enjoy a good action flick, and aside from my other brother (who was occupied with D&D) it ended up being the whole family watching it. and I enjoyed it WAY more than I’d anticipated, especially for something I’d never heard about.

if you don’t know what I’m talking about: drop what you’re doing and go watch The Old Guard on Netflix. (it’s a Netflix original so yes it will be there.) it’s a very fun and good action film based on a series of graphic novels about a small group of immortals trying to do what’s right. there are many selling points but one of them is that it will be very good for your little gay soul, bc Charlize Theron stars (in a character with no explicitly-stated romances but lots of relationships that will make you Feel Things) and two of the other main characters are two men who met during the Crusades and are just amazingly in love with each other. And not in a vague way that the straights can interpret as Powerful Friendship. They are explicitly in love with each other and so devoted and ugh.

ANYWAY. putting the rest of my chattering under a cut bc spoilers and also I’m a wordy piece of shit

1 - early in this movie I was thinking about how glad I am that Charlize Theron has stepped into this role of like... cool female action star, but also, her characters are never super sexed up. almost any female characters I can think of in action movies, if they’re part of the action rather than victims/bystanders, are always made sexy. even when they’re Strong sexy, they’re still... a lot sometimes? I was thinking especially of some Angelina Jolie stuff, Scarlett Johanssen, etc. there are probably lots of exceptions to this that I just don’t know but still - we’ve had Theron in several roles like this recently, and appearance-wise she’s treated with the same respect as her male counterparts, which is so fucking cool and also such a fucking relief. we all love beautiful ladies, obviously, but it’s so SO good to see our female heroes just doing their jobs, without us ever being made aware of their sexuality.

and as the movie went on this was hitting me more and more, and I was also thinking it about... everyone? like. the other female lead, played by KiKi Layne, was arguably more feminine than Theron but not any more sexualised. even once she’s out of her army fatigues she’s dressed with practicality in mind, and again, we never have her female-ness pointed out to us. and I was so about every bit of that. both objectively and as a person whose relationship to female-ness and femininity is kind of weird, it’s such a good thing to see leading women whose gender and appearances and bodies aren’t being focussed on that way.

and as a sidebar to that, while I wouldn’t describe any of the prominent male characters as unattractive by any means, none of them were like... Marvel-actor hot. and I just, idk, especially in action/superhero movies, that’s refreshing to me. a lot of them looked like Regular Dudes in a way that I find very appealing.

2 - can we TALK about Joe and Nicky. holy shit. my brother and I kept leaning over to each other to be like ‘if anything happens to either of them I’ll riot.’ I MEAN.

we got a genuine, explicit, on-screen established romance between these men. it was not implied, it was not just how the actors played it in the hopes that people would catch on - it was right there. they hold each other to sleep, they kiss each other with such love, they talk to other characters about how much they adore each other. they met during the Crusades. they’ve been in love for centuries! and they’re so sweet, so devoted, so adoring! and they never have any arguments or tension to further the plot (one of my personal most-hated plot devices in any story with an established relationship). they just spend this movie loving each other, protecting each other and their weird little family, doing anything they can for each other. they’re taken prisoner and spend their time awake joking and making each other smile. and the one singular bit of casual homophobia they encounter on-screen is met with a declaration of love so heartfelt and intense that the guy who made the shitty comment literally doesn’t know what to say - which is a brief but extremely good scene in the movie, imo.

oh, also worth noting: this romance is biracial and interfaith (inasmuch as either of them may be men of faith after being alive for centuries). just to add to how good this is to see on-screen. all of this on top of them being IMMORTAL AND UNKILLABLE. NO GAYS BURIED HERE

2.5 - can I talk for a second about how goddamn much I love seeing non-hetero romance in genre fiction!!! I know it’s getting easier to find, but still. genre fiction is very much my domain and I love seeing queer romance there, especially when it’s simply an accepted fact and the characters’ queerness isn’t central to the story. narratives about queerness are good and important and serve a function but most of them aren’t really my thing, personally. a story that’s about all kinds of other things but also has queer characters there, being themselves, being in love, is so 1000% my shit.

3 - also? Charlize Theron’s character, Andy?? fascinating from a queer perspective. she doesn’t have any explicitly-stated romance with anyone, but her relationships with other characters are so compelling and so interesting. The backstory about her and another immortal, Quynh, very very distinctly gives you the impression that they were women in love. everything about Andy’s guilt and bitterness over not having been able to find/save Quynh feels so much like there was a romance there. it could have been platonic or familial - they were together, without anyone else, for centuries at least, and therefore obviously developed a very deep love - but the way Andy talks about Quynh it feels so much like there was something left unsaid, or unresolved.

also, her scene with the clerk in the pharmacy. oh my god. this woman clearly recognises that whatever is going on with Andy, something is wrong, and she offers her help, no questions asked. she takes her into the back room and patches up her wound. this scene has such an inherent intimacy because of the close quarters and the privacy and the act taking place, but... there’s also this really interesting connection happening between them, where they recognise something in one another but don’t state it. (personally, I couldn’t help wondering if the clerk was a domestic abuse survivor, maybe? but there are so many ways you could interpret her character from her behaviour and dialogue in that scene, and I’d love to see other people’s takes.)

and then on the other hand you have her relationship with Booker, who’s been with her the longest out of any of the living immortals. they’re incredible. their relationship is so, so interesting and well-depicted! they have such chemistry, that you can easily read as romantic or platonic. they’ve been together for so many hundreds of years and they work together, trust each other, with such a deep understanding and love and respect. and it never quite tips over into the romance you kind of think it will, which imo only makes it that much more compelling - there are so many directions you could take that dynamic.

4 - and then on the topic of Booker: I am SO into the way his betrayal was handled.

he did, undeniably, betray the others. there’s no argument on that fact. his motivations were understandable (and heartbreaking), even to Andy, though certainly not an excuse. so yes, they were furious with him. reasonably so! but... that didn’t actually break their relationships with him. they didn’t leave him behind in the lab, even if in some ways they might have wanted to. and in the ensuing battle, they were still able to work together and trust each other as they always have. the damage done to their larger relationship was put aside to be dealt with after all of this, as it should be. and even when they did deal with it, what they agreed on was just a century of exile from their group. given the lives they’re all living, that seems like such a mild sentence.

but to me, it makes so much sense. again, these people have lived for centuries, and there are so few of them. they need each other. the bonds they’ve formed over all this time together - the trust, the love, the sense of family - would not only be vital to both their survival and their sanity, but also incredibly difficult to truly break. what he did would seem unforgivable from an outside perspective, and even after that century passed I’m certain he’d have to earn back their trust and respect, but it makes absolute sense that they’d be willing to take him back one day.

god. GOD. I’m sure there’s more I could talk about but this is what I can think of right now and I’ve been typing for like forty minutes probably so I’m done for now but.

god.

this movie and its characters GOT ME, guys. I’m really in it. ugh UGH

#the old guard #Courtney talks

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thecookhamboys · 4 years

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Finan x time travel!reader part 2!

2288 words. Fluff and smut.

Part 1 here. It’s not super necessary to understand this, but it’s short and cute.

A/N: If you want to skip the smut, it’s marked by two sets of asterisks. It’s my first time writing smut and this is my second fic ever, so any constructive notes are totally welcome :)

It took five hours for reality to set in. The first two had been spent in blissful ignorance, then another hour in denial. The fourth and fifth hours ticked by with mounting horror, culminating in one terrifying realization.

“There’s no aloe,” you whispered to yourself. “God, I thought the potatoes were the worst part, but there’s no aloe and no ice either.” With a deep, resigned sigh, you pulled the neckline of your shift back up, hissing as it rubbed against the horrible sunburn that covered the tops of your shoulders and your chest. It happened every summer, one afternoon that turned you a deep tomato red and reminded you why your mom insisted on 90 spf.

The burn on your face intensified-if that was even possible-with the thought of the events of the morning. Finan had seemed content for the first while that you were in the water, but after some time the grip on your hand tightened and so did the lines on his face. For several minutes you searched for ways to diplomatically send him off, but you were saved from the awkward conversation by Sihtric.

“Finan? Are you catching us fish or just avoiding training?” One of your eyes cracked open enough to see Finan’s face break into a smile at the sight of his best friend.

“No, just keepin’ this one from floating away. Turns out her idea of a swim is fallin’ asleep half naked.” At that, you opened your eyes and moved to a crouch indignantly.

“Hey! That was an accident that neither of us thought about and you know it!” You splashed some water at him and he and Sihtric laughed while you actively didn’t look at the water sparkling on his broad chest. “Really though, if you have to go I don’t mind. I think I’ll lie on the sand for a while and enjoy the day.” He looked down at you and nodded, then waded out of the water while yelling at Sihtric to throw him his shirt. You dunked under one last time while they left, then waded out yourself.

Beach days in the northeast had always been about maximizing sun exposure and building a tan that would last, so you didn’t even hesitate to expose yourself. The shift’s drawstring top hem simplified rearranging to form a strapless neckline, and it was easy enough to pull up the bottom hem and tie it in a knot at your thighs. You settled in by the shore, and the sounds of the water combined with the unseasonal warmth of the sun to lure you to sleep.

When you finally startled from your slumber it was clear that you had been there for hours; not great, since you were expected at the hall to help prepare dinner. Nothing had been amiss when you redressed, and you’d slipped in just in time to escape Gisela’s wrath and dive in chopping the endless amount of vegetables needed to feed those who sat at Uhtred’s table each night.

The sunburn escaped your notice until you were deep into your second cup of ale, and staring at your hands became a necessary distraction from Finan’s stupid, charming face across the table. That changed with the third cup, when his allure overbalanced your embarrassment.

“Finan, ugh, check this out. I fell asleep by the river today and look at this.” You tugged your dress down to reveal a startlingly red chest, and watched in amusement as you tapped it and left lasting white fingerprints. He laughed at your misfortune, but even after you pulled the neckline up and moved back into the table’s conversation he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the strip of burned skin by your collarbones.

The aloe realization came when you were preparing for bed. You’d done a full exam of exactly which places were burned, knowing that it would only be worse tomorrow, and had resigned yourself to a hot, sleepless night. Knowing that there was no relief on the horizon made you look forward to the next morning even less, and you set about to prepare as best you could. You opened the window to let in the cool night air, and left only the thinnest blanket out on the bed. You were folding away your two furs when a knock on the door surprised you, especially when you unlatched it and a smiling face with guarded eyes greeted you.

“I hope it’s not too late- I was mixin’ something up for ye,” he held out a small wooden bowl. You leaned forward and gave it a sniff, then looked up at him curiously.

“Is that ... milk?”

“Aye, with a little honey. It’ll help. Do ye have a cloth?” You turned to find one, and he moved into the room with you. When you turned with the cloth, it was to him holding a hand out expectantly. “I’ll help. I owe ye for this morning. That’s the longest stretch that I’ve enjoyed the water in years.” You bit your bottom lip and looked down. He glanced around the room, assessing the next move, and finally jerked his head towards the bed. “Ye don’t have anywhere else to sit. Go on, I’ll take care of ye.”

Sitting, you looked up at him with a smirk. “I should warn you: this sunburn covers more than is proper for a lady to reveal,” you continued, laughing, “good thing I’m not a lady.” You loosened the drawstring at your neckline and slipped both arms out of the sleeves, retying them in front to ease the blush coloring Finan’s face.

“Ye weren’t jokin’, were ye. Arms first.” He held out a hand and you placed your left in it while he soaked the cloth. He squeezed it out gently, then in several smooth strokes wiped the mixture down the length of your arm. You let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and immediately flushed, though you were sure he could barely tell. He huffed out a laugh, and let your hand go. “Feels good, aye?” With your nod, he held out his hand again and you gave him your right hand, marveling at how much of the burning had stopped. Once your arms were done, he moved closer, lightly wiping the cloth over your shoulders and chest, furrowed brows focused on keeping drips from staining the cloth of your shift. You couldn’t help but watch him, and when he shifted to your face, having all his focus on you left you scarcely able to breathe. When the cloth wiped over your cheek, you reached up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in position.

“Finan... thank you. For everything. You’ve been so kind to me these last few months, and I want you to know that I appreciate you, and all that you’ve done for me.”

“Ach, I’m sure ye’d appreciate it less if ye knew how selfish my motivations are, lass.” You reached up for him and tucked a hand on the back of his neck, mirroring his own position, and pulled him closer.

“I have selfish motivations too,” you whispered. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt or uncertainty in the sparkles from the candlelight.

“Are ye sure?” he breathed. You nodded and he closed the distance, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You tilted your head to deepen it, and his other hand moved to rest on your knee, causing you to break away with a hiss.

“Owwwww. Please tell me there’s enough of that left for my legs.”

“Yer legs? I thought ye were wearin’ this?”

“Yeah, well, I tied it up. Move back,” you said, patting the side of his face. Once you had space you rose and tied up the hem much as you had earlier, wrinkling your nose at the contrast between the white cloth and red skin.

“Ye look like the baby monk’s wet dream,” he muttered, taking in the full view.

“Only if the baby monk likes boiled lobsters,” you snickered, sitting back down. “Will you continue your ministrations please, oh doctor Finan?”

“Aye, with pleasure,” he said smugly, kneeling between your bared legs. “Ach, ye even got the tops of your feet.” He carefully lifted each foot into his lap, wiping the cloth from the knee down. Once he was done with that, though, you could tell you were in trouble. He looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop. I’ll do anything ye say. Always.” He reached below your knee, hoisting your leg up onto his shoulder and forcing you to lean back on one elbow. This time, when he applied the liquid, he didn’t squeeze out the cloth, instead chasing the extra drops with swipes of his tongue.

“Finan-“ his name came out of your mouth strangled, but it didn’t keep him from pausing immediately.

“What, lass?” You reached a hand towards him, tucking it into the short hair just behind his ear, taking a second to catch your breath.

“I am not a virgin.” His eyes darkened and you could tell his brain was moving through all the terrible possibilities, so you hurried on, not wanting him to worry. “It was by choice, but I thought you should know. Where I am from people are much more casual.” He nodded, eyes not leaving yours. “You don’t need to be gentle, but be tender. Please.”

******

He pressed a kiss to your thigh, which still rested over his shoulder, and lifted the other one to match, tipping you onto your back. From his position between your thighs, he looked at you with eyes of pure sin, and moved forward until you could feel his breath on your core. He licked his lips once, then dove into you, alternating long stripes with careful, quick circles around your clit. His hands wrapped the tops of your hips, holding you to his mouth even as you clutched at his hair to keep him from pulling away.

He was merciless with his tongue, and when your thighs tightened around his head with your climax he coaxed you through it, waiting until you tugged on his hair to pull away. He climbed onto the bed to hover over you, and you brought him in for a kiss, loving the taste of your own wetness on his lips. Eventually you broke away, if only to roll you both so you were on top. You tugged at the laces of his breeches, and after a few seconds of fumbling his cock sprang free. Leaning down, you took it in your mouth, sending a quick prayer to whoever was listening that your experiences with 21st century boys was applicable. You took him as deep as you could, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t fit, and set a gentle rhythm, guiding his hand to twine in your hair. After a bitten off curse when you used your other hand to cup his balls, he brought you back up for another searing kiss. You reached underneath yourself to line him up, and sank down, enjoying the strange fullness. He looked at you with wonder as you rocked back and forth over him, and brought his hands to where your shift gathered at the top of your ass. When he neared his own climax, he sat up, wrapping one strong arm around your back to pull you close as he thrust upwards. He finally stilled with his face buried in your neck, and nipped at it before kissing the mark gently. You rose up just enough for him to slip out of you, then sat back down, resting your head on his.

******

He mumbled something into your shoulder and you frowned, not understanding.

“Finan? You said that word earlier but I don’t think you’ve said what it means?” He laughed, shaking his head and disturbing the hand that was carding through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No I have not. I couldn’t before now.” Your hand resumed its gentle combing, and he sighed. “It means ‘my love’. My secret love,” he amended, “for when ye know it but they do not. Although I suppose ye know now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently, soaking up the feeling of being in his arms and having him in yours.

“I love you too.” When you finally got off him, he moved as if to leave. “Finan? Where are you going?” He stopped and looked at you, startled.

“It’s not proper if I stay, if someone comes in tomorrow morning and sees me sleeping here with ye...” He trailed off, seeing that his words had no impact. You shook your head, and laughed a little to yourself.

“What if I told you that where I’m from, it’s even less proper than that to make a girl feel like this and then leave when she wants you to stay?”

“Well, I’d ask when ye’d ever known me to be improper?” You laughed at that, climbing under the blanket and holding it open so he could slide in next to you once he’d removed his breeches and blown out the candles. You fell asleep quickly, sunburn completely forgotten, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face, lit up gently by the moon. In the safety of your sleep, he trailed a finger over your collarbone and pressed kisses to your hair. Finally, he pressed one last kiss to the overheated skin of your cheek, and let himself relax, content with the presence of you curled up next to him. He whispered “I love you,” into the cool night air, and let himself fall into sleep.

#The Last Kingdom #finan #finan x reader #time travel #they said write what u know #so i said self insert fic with my whole chest #my writing #pls clap #soft finan

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 4 years

Text

So, looking back at the MCU, I thought I’d just reflect on my experiences with the franchise (just for fun):

1) I never understood the Zendaya-MJ controversy when I first heard of it. I mean, I knew that there were some people going off about how Marvel cast a black actress for a traditionally white character but for me, I didn’t understand the controversy since I thought Zendaya was a great pick for the role. She’s a real life MJ, being a fashion model/actress/singer/social media icon. I could totally see her pull the part off. But then, of course, the MCU went a different direction with their take on MJ but still, I thought she was a great pick as the female lead of the Spider-Man franchise.

2) No joke, I understood the Endgame time travel mechanics from the first viewing. It really wasn’t that hard to understand and I thought it was kinda funny that some people replied to my posts, angry that I was trying to help people get the concept.

3) I fully admit that I was on the anti-Finn Jones train when I heard his casting. I wanted an Asian actor in the role, although I would’ve preferred an actual Asian superhero get the spotlight (like Shang-Chi, Silk, or Amadeus Cho). That said, I would’ve been fine with Finn’s interpretation of the character if it was good. And...it wasn’t. Which leads to my next point:

4) I might be a huge MCU fanboy but there are several movies and shows I dislike. Iron Fist is still the worst MCU property I’ve ever seen and it actually ranks up as one of the worst shows I’ve seen. The Defenders sucked. Inhumans sucked. I love Agents of SHIELD but I hated season 3 with a passion. For the movies, I definitely disliked Iron Man 2 and Thor 2. Age of Ultron didn’t age well. Civil War, while still good, is overrated in my opinion (the Zemo plot and the Sokovian Accords plot should’ve been their own movies).

5) I hated the MCU for at least two weeks when the Ghost Rider spin-off series was cancelled. Just...ugh. At least give me one season of the show!

6) So, Spider-Man is not just my favorite Marvel superhero, but my all-time favorite superhero. Among the 3 live-action takes on the character, I’m gonna say that Tom’s take is my favorite. I know that might sound sacrilegious to some people but for me, I just enjoyed the Holland-era movies more than the past two. For the Maguire trilogy, obvious issues with Spider-Man 3 aside, the first Spider-Man didn’t age that well for me (and this is coming from someone who grew up with the Tobey Maguire movies). And I was always iffy on the Andrew Garfield movies.

7) I actually had no idea the Avengers was happening back in 2012. Let me paint the picture; I was going into my freshman year of undergrad so for the past year, all I was focused on was school and work. I watched Iron Man 1 and 2 and the Hulk 2008 movie but I didn’t really think much of them, I just thought they were good movies. So one day, my friends say, “Hey, let’s go watch the Avengers in theaters!” I didn’t want to say that I had no idea what they were talking about so I just went along with them. So imagine my surprise when I saw Iron Man working together with all the other Avengers for the first time. I literally missed ALL the marketing and hype for this movie because I was so focused on school and work. But honestly, I’m glad I did since that made for a unique theater experience.

8) Similar to point 7, I had no idea Daredevil was a thing on Netflix. I went into it blind and finished the show in one day. Fucking amazing series and I was hyped the whole time. Also, I kept thinking that HYDRA was involved with Fisk and the Hand for some reason.

9) As far as actual moviegoing experiences, Far From Home was the worst. I loved the movie but I wish that I wasn’t sitting next to these Hot Topic-wearing fools who smelled like crap. One guy just straight up smelled like burnt plastic.

10) For the longest time, it was a running joke in my family that I was the one person who liked Thor 1. All I did was defend the movie because none of my cousins liked it and because of that, I got labeled a Thor super-fan. Obviously, it was all jokes, but I distinctly remember this one night, we were all watching Thor in the living room because one of my cousins had never seen it. We get to the scene where Jane Foster accidentally runs into Thor after he’s stripped of his power and my eldest cousin turns to the group and says, “Alright, here’s (my name) favorite superhero movie. Get ready.”

That’s it for now. I’m thinking of turning this into a series as I do have a lot more to share. I just didn’t want to make this post too long.

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poeticblissme · 5 years

Text

Are You Ready?

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, more smut, more fluff

Prompt: You wanted to watch an Animal documentary, Seokjin has other plans.

Word Count: 3,576

Warnings: Virgin!Reader, Unprotected Sex (Wrap before you tap!!!!) Orgasam denial...ish?

A/N: IM DYING LAUGHING THIS WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR THE LITERAL LONGEST! I would like to kindly point out that this is loosely related to a dream I actually had like LAST YEAR and I just found it, and added a couple things. Yall wanna see what I was dreaming about a year ago here it is LOL Im so shocked. Not really Im getting back into my writing groove les get it!

Feedback is Appreciated!

With a hand intertwining in yours, you feel yourself being suddenly pulled from your attempted descent down your stairs. You gasped silently, your brain remaining in a small jumble.

Your body was turned, then pushed lightly into his bedroom. Much like the rest of the house, your shared room was not too big, if you were to jump on your tiptoes, your fingertips may just be able to touch the ceiling. Looking forward, you see the nicely made king size bed is perfectly center with the 55 inch TV that was mounted on the wall just in front of the furniture. On the dresser under the TV, were three sets of gaming systems. Its common knowledge that you both would always be ready to play games at any time. It was also helpful to have for when his brother Jungkook comes around, a family that games together stays together after all. The sets of mini circular lights built into the ceiling above you gave the room a nice glow, all in all your shared bed room was made for both your tastes and it was the perfect place to sit and relax....among other things.

You heard the lock of the room door click, and instantly your attention was drawn back to why you were dragged here in the first place. You turned around, facing the culprit himself, who simply gave a small playful smile.

“And would you like to explain to me exactly why you stopped me from going to get my snacks, my love?”

Seokjin smirked, fully turned to you, his attention on your entire form. His stance alone was enough to change the entire atmosphere in the room, making you slightly flustered. It was clear the true power he had over anything and everything he came into contact with.

From the way he was eyeing you, you could guess what he wanted, but being the person that you were, you had to push him, test his limits so to speak. You could call it part a stubborn streak, but in the end, you both always got the good end of the deal. You watched his right hand tremble slightly, before his long slender fingers slowly dropped from the door knob, and down to his side gently. The tips of his pointer and middle finger on his right hand began to tap on his leg in a playful manner, while his left hand remained perfectly still.

Such a small gesture should not have worked you up this much, but with the current feel of the room, and your past experience with each of his very skilled fingertips, you could feel your body tremble, and your legs shake in silent anticipation with what was to come. Were you scared? Absolutely, What was about to transpire went well beyond of boundaries of everything you two had done together over the past year. This was all new territory, you were about to cross a line you had been afraid of crossing for the longest. No matter how much you may openly flirt, no matter how much foreplay or touching you do, and no matter how many times you tell yourself you are ready, It does not stop your nerves from tightening at the thought of going all the way, and losing the very thing you were told to treasure for your entire life.

You were not scared to lose your virginity to Jin. You knew a long time ago that he was the one you wanted to take it, it was just....you had so many questions, so many concerns. Would it hurt like everyone said? Would your lack of sex in that way make this encounter a little too....boring? Would he even still want you afterwards knowing you had no experience?

It wasn’t like he didn’t know, you explained your purity to him on your fifth date, and he was nothing but respectful and understanding of it. He made it perfectly clear that he would wait until you were ready, and when you were, he would be there.

He kept to his promise since that day. Time and time again you would work each other to the brink of total exhaustion, always doing the most make sure each person was left somewhat satisfied, but never truly going all the way. Still he would wait, still he stayed with you. You could never ever thank him enough for that. Then, on a date you can no longer pinpoint, you realized that the closer you got to him, you knew the small back and forth could no longer be enough.

It was no longer enough to have your mouth wrapped around his cock, his hands gripping your hair to keep you in place as he fucked your mouth the way he liked most. It was no longer enough that if you were a good girl, he would use his long marvelous tongue on your aching cunt, sucking and swallowing every drip of juice that slipped out of your clenching, desperate hole. No, the playing was no longer enough, how could it be? He could not have been more eager to finally give you both the relief you both deserved when he heard the news.

That was exactly how you had got into this situation that you were in now. You were certain you wanted tonight to be the night, and with that in mind, you made yourself look extra alluring, a web for the fly if you will. The black off the shoulder shirt, and black leggings you wore hugged you tight, accentuating each curve of your body delightfully. Your hair was pinned up in a classy, sophisticated bun, showing off the smooth skin of your neck and collar bones, something you knew would make your seokjin weak at the knees, seeing as he adores sucking on both.

You knew that your plan had been working beautifully. You watched his movements with interest, loving how you could always meet eyes with him no matter what he had been doing during the day. You felt powerful, watching him silently squirm as he watched you lick your fingers clean as you ate different foods that you had gotten for lunch. You felt needy, watching him smirk and bite his lip while he shot a wink in your direction, indicating that he knew precisely, what you were doing, and you would surely pay for it (Promises, promises).

“You have really been testing me all day haven’t you, my love?” He mocked, his eyes still locked on yours.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you mean.” You lied, cocking your head to the side.

“Is that so?” He asked you, an eyebrow raised in your direction, to which you gave a single nod.

He nodded, his eyes slipping from yours for only a moment to gaze at your smooth neck. He quickly found his composure, though you did not miss his moment of weakness. His eyes met yours again, before he spoke, his tone firm, “Ah, pity. My mistake then, lets go get the snacks then, shall we?”

Your eyes opened a little more, a pinch of shock picking at your nerves, usually he is clairvoyant enough to see through your bluff, had your acting been a bit too good?

He moved away from the door, holding up his hand toward it to gesture you to leave the room. You gawked at him for a moment, not sure how to respond. You could feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment, you knew your pride would get in the way of you actually saying anything to him, and you were also to shy to speak out about not really wanting to leave the room, so, with a small huff of disappointment you made your way to the door.

How humiliating is this? Does he not read the novels? Male makes a flirty remark to girl, Girl responds in a flirty teasing remark and boom, you could have your way with each other. . Maybe your voice did not have the right inflection? You have to admit reading how to flirt in book form is perhaps not the smartest way to learn, but hell you read enough to get at least a jist of how to do it....

With your thoughts going round and round in your head, you tried your best to try and understand where you went wrong. Then you feel yourself getting bold, slightly agitated. No way is he gonna end it like this! You will see to it! You think of a quick retort, while pretending to turn the knob of the door to make your fake exit...

Only, the knob would not budge.

You paused, thoughts on hold as you turned the knob again, pulling at it with all your might, a look of utter confusion on your face, when the sudden revelation came across your face.

Jin had locked the door. You were so preoccupied with your head you totally forgot he had locked the door when he came in here with you.

“Yah, well, isn’t this a shocking turn of events.” You heard from behind you, his voice a lot closer than you had anticipated.

You chuckled, goosebumps trickled onto your skin as you felt hands creep onto each side of your hips. His grasp around you tightened, his long fingers digging into your flesh. Before you could even speak, you were forcefully turned around, your back meeting the wooden door.

You gasped, looking to meet dark lust filled pupils. With another eyebrow raised, you could see the smirk once again grow on his lips as he gave you yet another once over. You turned your head away from him and scoffed, more so at yourself, all this time you were planning to trap him, and yet here you are, the fly, to his spider.

“You ma’m have been acting up all day.” He spoke, his eyebrow raised, his voice smug and low.

“Define acting up” You play smoothly. “Because all I remember doing is wanting to get some snacks before we watch the-”

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” He interrupted, his thumb rubbing circles on your arms. “The faster you admit your wrong doings, the faster I can show you why you should save the snacks for later.”

“Jin!” You exclaimed in fake shock. “All I wanted was to watch an animal documentary!”

Jin rolled his eyes, a playful smile on his face. “Oh Please, you have watched the same season of planet earth fifteen times, I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

“Oh? I was not aware.” You nodded.

“I can see, that’s why I told you.” He smirked, his focus on nothing but your eyes. You could see the admiration he had for you, you could feel it, and it made your heart clench. You could feel it start to beat faster, sending loud beats through your ears. "Wow.” you thought to yourself. “What a beautiful piece of music.”

You hope that he can see the absolute trust and love that you have for him in you eyes as well. You always had that fear, that perhaps you are not expressing your love enough, so you made a promise to him and to yourself that no matter what, you would give your all to him, and he promised he would give his all to you. You were a partnership, a union, pieces of a whole, and you needed each other.

Jins left hand slid up from your arm slowly, making your skin prickle and become cool with want and anticipation. Finally, he reaches his destination, the base of your neck. The spot he has always loved to play with first. “Who doesn’t love the neck?” He would say, shocked that anyone could think any different Its a great starting point and its super smooth....like my face”

He smiles as his fingers reach the base of your neck. He presses his fingers down, adding only the tiniest bit of pressure to let you know where he was, and finally after what seemed like forever, he leans forward, pressing a small kiss on the free side of your neck.

You sigh, the feeling of his plump lips sending shock waves of heartfelt desire through your body in bursts. He kisses again, the tip of his tongue caressing your skin for only a second, causing you to sigh once more. You can feel a slight smirk on you skin, he knows he has you where he wants you and he has barley lifted a finger to you yet. What a Man he is

“Do you know how much I adore your body?” He whispered against your skin, placing another kiss into the dip of your neck. “I really adore every inch of you, we could literally never leave this room and I’ll just enjoy getting to touch you like this forever.”

“You are exaggerating.” You pushed out, sucking in a breath as he nibbled lightly on your skin.

He broke away slightly “Well....maybe about the never leaving this room part but the rest? No way.”

He comes up to meet your eyes before placing his lips against yours. The moan against his lips was inevitable, feeling him so close to you always caused your body to react that way. It was like a switch in your brain, like his body was a beacon for your deepest desires in mind, body and soul. You knew he was the one meant to do this with you, you knew he was meant for you.

Your lips mold together, his tongue granted quick access to your mouth as you move into a slow yet powerful dance. You moan together, both feeling the cages keeping you both at bay slowly breaking. Your breathing has quickened in pace. even more so now as you feel your legs squirm in slight irritation. You want him so bad, you can feel it in your very core. He wants you, you can hear it in his trembling breaths, you can feel the arousal pressing against his dark blue jeans, taunting you.

“Are you ready Baby?” He asks, parting with your lips and meeting your eyes once again.

He was taking care of you, just like always. He was once again asking if this is what you truly wanted. This was it. The land of no return. if you say no, you move on and wait, or you say yes, giving the consent that you were indeed ready for what would come next, Were you truly ready to let go?

Yes. Yes you were.

“I’m ready baby.” You nod, a sweet smile on your lips as he smiles and nods in return.

He pulls away from you and takes your hand, leading you backwards toward the bed. You feel your stomach churn with nerves, your insecurities threatening to spill out. You look to Jin, who is still holding your hand, and looking directly at you. Once at the side of the bed he pulls you into him, kissing you once more, it was his silent reassurance that you would be fine, that he was there for you. Smiling into the kiss, your shoulders relax, your body submits to your heart, and before you know it, your head is against the pillow, clothes long forgotten on both your persons.

His fingers find your clit with ease, his past experience with your body proving so useful in both your time of need. He rubs your clit with haste, causing sparks of fire and energy to build within your body. You can feel it circling your very soul, building and building the more he touches you, the faster he takes you. You want to tell him how good it feels, how much you love his touch, how much you have needed this, but all you release is a hearty moan, the sound vibrating through your body, to your core.

“I know baby.” He speaks, as if he is reading your mind. “ohh fuck, I know I know baby.” He watches you breathe harder and harder, your eyes closing by nature. The flame is so much higher now, your body is on fire, and god it truly does feel so good.

You’re almost there, the flames ready to burst inside of you. So close to the edge of eternal bliss, when he removes his fingers and moves from beside you. Your breath halts, your eyes open in protest, when you see him smirking down at you, while overlooking your entire form. Has he lost his mind?!

Still out of breath, you try and speak to him “What... the hell Jin?”

“You really thought you were gonna lose your virginity with my fingers? If that was the case we popped your cherry ages ago.” He laughs, moving his body to hover above you.

oh.

That’s right.

You were so in the moment you had forgot the actual intercourse part. Old habits die hard You thought to yourself.

You feel Jin rub the tip of his cock against your slick folds and you gasp, nerves and a quiver of arousal hitting you suddenly. You look down to watch, your curiosity and slight fear kicking in once again,

“It’s okay baby.” He speaks, using his left elbow as leverage to kiss your forehead. “Remember it is gong to hurt a little, then it will get better.”

You nodded pushing your head back into the pillow “Super glad I took the pill, makes this feel more organic.”

Jin chuckles, looking up at you right as he pushes a small part of himself into you. You clench a small pain pushing through you.

“Oh jesus baby dont...dont clench okay..please dont clench I will not survive this.” He speaks, you mutter a small apology and let him continue.

“How are you baby?” He asks pushing in, little by little.

“I’m...I’m okay it hurts but, I guess I was so wet its going in a bit smoother.”

“Glad to be of service.” He winks,pushing more of himself into you. With a little time and patience he finally bottomed out. The wait together was not awkward. He simply played with your hair, kissed parts of your face. It was when you laughed at his kisses could you feel him slide against you, making you both moan out.

“Ohh okay, okay I’m ready, i;m ready.” You moan out, to which he nods.

He starts off slow, his pace cautious and careful. His strokes are smooth but steady to ensure your safety, making your body shiver, but it was not enough, you needed more.

“Faster.” You breath. “Go....go faster.”

He complies, his strokes now faster in pace, and now a lot more calculated than before. You felt stretched, more open, more free. Your were somehow wetter then you were before, and now that you could truly feel him, you let yourself go, you need him to do the same.

“That....That feels so good baby. So so good, please...” you moan, your cries desperate.

You can feel his body stiffen once more, but this...this was different, he stroked hard, purposefully, hitting a spot inside of you that had you crying out to him, begging him to hit that spot again and again and again.

He complied, your bodies moved in sync, with each other. You met his thrusts, your tongues dance happily. Never did you have that thought that you would feel this close to someone, to be so full, so happy.

The fire was back, circling around in your stomach, ready to explode, its wants to be free so bad, you long to let it flow out of you. You know what this means, you have to tell him, you have to tell him how close you are. His pace is fast and dominating, calculated, and hard.

“Jin..” You breath out, your moans loud and needy and he thrusts into you mercilessly . “Oh fuck ...fuck Jin please-”

“I know baby I am too.” He calls out still, as if he knew your thoughts. His thrusts were now sloppy, much like your motions against him. He brings his right hand to your clit, fingers stroking back and forth against your bundle of nerves at an accelerated pace.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” You moan out, not able to hold back the fire now beginning to spill out of your very body. You call his name, your breathing harsh and unsteady. “Please, Baby I love you.”

“I love you So much Y/N, you did so well for me. That’s right baby let go, come for me, Cum just for me.” He gets out before letting go himself, his seed shooting inside of you in small spurts. He gasps loudly, your name slipping through his tongue multiple times.

It was pure euphoria, you could feel your body cool down, your body sinking into the mattress below you, shoulders slumped, body tired.

Jin holds himself above you long enough to soften,Then slowly takes himself out of you, to which you both groan.

He plops back first onto the bed, turning to you with a sheepish look.

“No.” You start, your breathing now at least partially back in order. “Don’t do that, it was perfect Jin.” You state, turning your body to face his. You lift your hand and place it on his cheek. “It was more than perfect and I love you. It was always meant to be you, that will never change.”

To See My Masterlist Just Click Here

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nala-raines · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 Baby

Author’s note: Clarification Information will be posted in a minute. You definitely want to read that. It will have disclaimers and give credit where credit is due. It’s a lot of information and the Prologue was just the beginning

‘Regina is not MY mother. Why does she think that she can take her place?’ The young shifter decided to go out for a run early Christmas morning, hardly feeling the cold air around him, just running through the woods. ‘At least Leo and Maxwell agree with me. Wait, what's that smell?’ The boy looks around, trying to find the source. He slowly walks forward until he finds the source.

‘A BABY?! Who in their right mind would leave BABY out in the freezing cold?!’ He very carefully nudged the baby, afraid of hurting it. That’s when he realized

‘IT’S ALIVE! I gotta go get help! But if I leave the baby might die. You’re a little one, aren’t you? UGH what do i do? What do I do?’ He looks at the baby, while looking at the baby, something takes over him. He walks over and curls himself around the baby, trying not to hurt the baby,

‘Okay, everyone should wake up soon. They know that I will go for a run in the morning while everyone is still asleep, the guards saw me leave and I’m usually back no later than an hour. Leo and Maxwell know the path I take. When I don’t get back soon, they’ll bring help.’ He looks at the baby, realizing that he can see her heart in her chest, but couldn’t see any bleeding cuts. Although there is blood in the snow around the baby.

‘What happened to you huh? Who did this to you? Please be okay.’ He noticed that the baby started to move, but just barely.

‘I’m not leaving you okay. I will never abandon you.’

A few hours later…

The boy hears people coming, he knows that a fight could hurt the baby. But then he hears his father’s voice,

“LIAM!” His father yelled, after finding his youngest son.

Liam lifted his head to see his father running to him and Liam was relieved. ‘It’s gonna be okay. Help is here little one.’

“Liam, what in the world were you thinking?! Did you get hurt?” His brother was there too, along with Maxwell. Liam looked at his father and shook his head. He saw that Leo was pulling out a blanket and tried to wrap it around him.

“Liam shift back into a human, I’ll carry you home.” His brother said relieved, but still worried about his brother. Liam took a moment to shift back, but still stayed curled up for a moment to make sure the baby was okay.

“Liam come on.” Liam’s father said, trying to pick him up.

“NO!’ Liam screamed quickly, “I stayed because I can survive in the cold longer than a baby. Something is wrong with it, father.”

“Baby? What baby?” His father and brother said in unison. Maxwell just steps in front of his friend, trying to be a windbreaker, and Leo follows suit. His father stayed by Liam’s side. He shifts the blanket staying curled around the baby knowing that the wrong move will hurt her. He pushes himself up, and moves the blanket back, revealing the small pinkish babe. He saw the looks on their faces, they were in pure shock.

“This baby.” Liam said. His father (Constantine), was afraid for his son. That Liam may have risked his life for nothing. He gently moved his hand to touch the baby, and paused when he felt a small heartbeat. Constantine went to pick up the baby, until Liam started to panic.

“Father, wait you might hurt her!”

“Okay. Liam!” Liam quieted down but still he was still worried about the baby. “I need you to listen to me Very carefully. I’m going to tear the blanket to wrap around her. After that you need to get up and I’m going to show you how to hold a baby, then Leo is going to help get the two of you on my back okay?”

Liam and Leo nodded, as their father tore the blanket and gingerly picked up the baby shielding her from the cold as best he could. When he was done, began to place the baby in Liam’s arms, when he was sure that Liam had a good grip on her, Constantine turn to his oldest, Leo,

“Leo, after Liam gets on me, you have to sit behind him, so Liam can focus on keeping her close. And pay attention to how she’s doing.” He said, channeling his experience with being calm in emergencies.

Leo just nodded his head. Liam looked at his father, filled with even more worry.

“She? This baby is a girl?”

Constantine looked at his youngest son’s face, his calm, collected facade cracking.

“Yes. This little one is a girl. Now when I shift, Maxwell, Leo, help him on my back. Leo sit behind Liam, Maxwell go and find the other parties and tell them to get to the hospital.”

Everyone nodded and Maxwell shifted into his bear, and was off. Constantine shifted into his lion, and Leo helped Liam get on, then got behind him. Constantine went as fast as he could, but was mindful of his sons and the little girl they were trying to save.

Thankfully, they were able to get to the palace quickly. Leo hopped off and helped Liam down as guards rushed out to help. When Constantine shifted back yelled at the guards right as Regina ran out,

“Get the motorcade ready! NOW!” He knelt down to check on the girl in Liam’s arms. She was a bit colder (not by much, thankfully) but still breathing steadily.

“Constantine, what’s going on? And Liam where have you been? I was worried sick?!” Regina, Constantine’s girlfriend yelled.

“Liam found a baby girl in the woods.” Leo said as a guard handed the three of them clothes. Shifters don’t always take nakedness as inappropriate, depending on the context that is. Leo got changed first and tried to take the baby from Liam, but Liam just held her closer to his chest.

“Liam you need to get changed. Leo has to take her.”

Leo could see the worry on his brother’s face. He wasn’t offended but just worried that his brother was already too attached to this little girl. He doubted that she would live a good life, or even if she would make it through the day.

“I’ll give her right back, Liam. I promise.”

Leo could see that this helped Liam calm down, so Leo carefully took her in his arms, vaguely remembering from when he had held Liam when he was born. Liam dressed as quickly as he could as the motorcade pulled around. Leo handed the little girl back to Liam and he begins to talk to her,

“See I told you it was going to be okay. Just hang in there a little longer.”

Liam saw that she was trying to grab something with her hand, so he moved his hand and used his pointer-finger and gently touched her little palm, and she grasped his finger tight.

“Liam, we need to get going. I’ll hold her while we heading to the hospital.”

“I don’t think you can father. She’s holding onto my finger tight.” Liam said with a laugh.

Constantine looks closer and sees that she has indeed grabbed onto Liam's finger. Constantine wanted to take her, because he knew that no baby should be that small. She couldn’t wrap her hand around Liam’s finger fully, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the girl out of his son’s arms. Despite the dire situation, Liam seemed to be at peace for the first time in over a year.

“Alright. But you must sit right next to me.”

“I will father.” Liam said, not taking his eyes off the baby in his arms.

Constantine signs before noticing Maxwell return with the rest of the search party. He helps Liam get in one of the cars before turning to everyone else.

“You all get some rest. I’ll have other guards ready to stay at the hospital. Give Maxwell a change of clothes, he’s coming with us.”

He stops and looks at Regina. He wants to give the boys one more year before they get married. She’s not Emilia, his true mate that gave him his youngest son, but she helped him grieve and stepped up to help with the boys. They’re okay with Regina, but don’t see her as a part of the family yet.

“Regina, we’ll be at the hospital for at least a few hours. You may come if you want too.”

“Of course I’ll come, my king. But the doctors will have Liam checkout and cleared within an hour. So, it won’t be that long.”

“I know that, it’s the baby he found that will take the longest to look over. I don’t think Liam will want to leave without hearing a doctor say that she’s alright. Which I highly doubt will be the case, she is far too small to be full term.”

Regina nods, understanding that as a 5-year-old boy that lost his mother, he would want to try everything he could to save her. Regina was mainly annoyed, she had wanted the boys to trust her more, and being in a hospital to help a random baby was not what she had in mind.

They got in the car, Maxwell and Leo are already sitting next to each other looking at the small girl wrapped in Liam’s arms.

“How can something so small be so cute?” Maxwell asks. Everyone in the car was hoping that she would be alright, but the three young boys had decided to marvel in her cuteness instead of worrying.

“I don’t know. Father, how is someone so small so strong? She just refuses to let go of my finger.”

“No one knows. I thought the same thing when you and your brother were born.”

Constantine just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to break the boys hearts. He decided to let them believe that she would be fine. That there are no risks or complications that could happen, instead of the hundreds possible problems. He came to a conclusion, while looking at the little baby girl that both of his boys couldn’t stop staring at or gushing over how cute and precious she is.

‘If she somehow pulls through, I’ll find a good home for her. And make sure that the boys can visit from time to time. I just hope that her death won’t break the boys all over again.’

tags: @txemrn

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lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

[yourheaventonight]

Have you ever wanted to grab someone by the throat and squeeze until their head explodes? Uh, no....

Anyhow, what's your favorite movie? I have many favorites. How do people choose just one for stuff like movies, books, music, and TV shows?

Any movies you're just dying to see? More Marvel movies this year and in October the new Halloween movie comes out. I’m sure there’s other movies coming out I’ll want to see as well.

How's the love life? Non-existent.

What's the title of the last book you read? I’m currently reading, “Cold Highway” by Mary Stone.

Do you have a messy signature? Yeah. My handwriting in general is crap.

What color are your nails at the moment? They’re not painted.

When's the last time you got a text? Yesterday evening.

Have you ever felt your phone vibrate and had it scare the shit out of you? Probably.

What song is currently resonating through your ear drums? I’m listening to an ASMR video, actually.

What's your greatest fear? Losing my loved ones, death, never getting better/getting worse, never doing anything with my life...

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Like 3 hours? :/

Would you consider yourself morbid? Sometimes.

Do you keep your nails long or short? They’re barely even there.

How do you feel about 2012 and what the Mayans predicted? Welp, we’re in 2021 now.

What was the last thing you said out loud? “Goodnight.”

What was the last thing you stopped yourself from saying? I don’t remember.

Who was the last person to call you baby? *shrug*

Does your name begin with the letter J? C? R? K? S? S.

Do you need a shower at the moment? No.

Can you thrive on false hope? Sometimes people think I’m being negative or pessimistic and sometimes I am, but there’s definitely times where I’m just being real.

Do you use Bing.com? Never.

What's the last thing you looked up on any search engine? Something related to a survey question.

Have you ever considered a career as a porn star? No.

What was the last lie you told? Hmm.

Do you remember the last thing you typed in a Word document? No, it’s been years.

How many pictures do you have saved on your computer? Maybe a handful? I don’t save a lot to my laptop, actually. I have a shit ton saved on my phone, though.

Would you consider yourself artistic? Not at all.

Has anyone told you that you were a good writer? Yes.

^Do you believe them? It was nice to hear, but I never thought I was anything great.

What all do you have pierced? Just my earlobes.

Are there any piercings your currently waiting to get? No.

What color is your phone? Gold.

When was the last time you sneezed? I don’t remember.

What do you consider 'classic' rock? You love your rock music, don’t ya.

When was the last time you shaved? A few days ago.

What's the longest you've ever had your hair? Down to my butt, its current length.

What's the last unpleasant thing you smelled? Onions.

Are you sleepy at the moment? Yes. I should still be sleeping.

What can you see through the window closest to you? I have blackout curtains so I don’t see anything.

Have you ever just wanted a re-do on life? Most definitely.

How many pages was the last book you read? I don’t feel like checking.

Who is/are the main character(s) in it? Detective Ellie Kline, her friend, Jillian, her work partner, Clay, her ex, Nick, a few other cop guys, and the bad guys.

Who/what did you last take a picture of? My doggo.

Do you take pictures of yourself just for Myspace or Facebook? I haven’t in awhile. The last picture I took was the photo I also have on here because I’m wearing my ramen shirt I got for Christmas and it felt fitting.

What were you like 5 years ago? 10? 15? End of 2015 and going into 2016 is when my downward spiral began. In 2011 I was finishing up my last year at community college and getting ready to transfer. I was dealing with a health issue I had to have surgery for the following year, but still I wasn’t like I am now. I also had friends back then and a social life. Go figure. Oh, and Joseph and I had our thing going. 2006 I was a sophomore in high school. Had my first boyfriend. Went through my emo phase. I was active and healthy for the most part.

Have you ever wanted a mohawk? A real, 2-foot tall, multicolored mohawk? No. What was the last pill you took? My pain med.

Should you be in bed right now? I am. I should be sleeping, though. Sigh.

What's the best cover song, in your opinion? One of them I like is Adele’s cover of “Fast Love” by George Michael that she performed at an award short after his death. I always describe it as “hauntingly beautiful.” I’m sad she never released a studio version.

Do you ever get on Myspace anymore? I haven’t been on there in over a decade.

Favorite lyrics right now? Hmm.

Have you ever gotten Visine in your mouth? Ew, no.

Last person to get on your nerves? Ugh, myself.

Is sarcasm a part of your daily vocabulary? I wouldn’t say that.

Do you like sappy love songs? I can be a sucker for ‘em.

Pick up the nearest notebook, go to page 2 & write down the 3rd sentence. No.

Do you Tweet? Yep.

What's the background on your phone? I have an Alice in Wonderland theme going on currently.

Do you enjoy cleaning? No.

Is your hair curly, straight, or in-between? It’s wavy.

Is there someone in (or out) of your life that is hard to think about without feeling like there's a giant hole in your chest? No.

Speaking of holes, did you know the band Hole is back? Please stop saying that.

Oh, did you know there's a black hole at the center of our universe? klasjfklsjfkldf.

Would you paint your nails orange? Sure.

What's the hardest part about saying goodbye? It can be hard sometimes if it’s someone you might not see again for awhile or know when or if you will and you’re really close to that person.

Do you like Fresca? (If you know what it is.) No.

What does your favorite pair of pajama pants look like? I just wear leggings.

Do you like waffles? Pancakes? French toast? Yes - all of the above.

Do you like bananas and peanut butter? Yes. Have you ever tried a fried pickle? Yeah, they’re good.

Can you tell I have food on the brain? I’m hungry as well.

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be the opposite sex? Yeah.

Don't you love Samoas? No, cause I don’t like coconut.

Do you pick your nose when no one's looking? I use a tissue if I need to do something and yes I’m private about it.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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unsettledink · 4 years

Text

Back in the days of LJ, I used to try and do a post at the end of each year, looking back primarily at fandom and fic. I fell out of the habit when everything moved to tumblr, and then it seemed like I didn’t have anything to say since I wasn’t writing or really participating any.

But I always liked the idea of it, because I love to be overly reflective on stuff. And talk about my fic. Any excuse! I shuffled around some of the topics I used back then and added a few I’ve seen around that I liked. It got… long, because I TALK, so I split into two sections.

Your main fandom of the year?

Marvel (MCU) for sure. Primarily with characters from Spider-Man and Iron Man movies.

Your favorite film watched this year?

The Old Guard - I saw a couple trailers and everything about it looked like catnip. ‘It’s probably going to be so dumb, but I don’t even care,’ I thought. And then it was so good. It was so much fun and so much smarter than I expected and I loved each and every character and it just made me happy in so many ways.

Your favorite book read this year?

Red, White, and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston - I read it twice this year actually. It’s so… cute isn’t the right world. Sweet and hopeful and soft and comforting and intense. I liked every single character which is pretty rare. I cried during the sad parts and then again at the happy ending, like straight up sobbed - both times. I already want to read it again.

Your favorite tv show watched this year?

Schitt’s Creek - I started it on a whim and because a lot of people had said it was good. The episodes were short so it wasn’t a huge time investment. The first season was a little rough, but there were enough funny moments that I hung on, and then… I kept getting fonder and fonder of these idiots as they grew. And THEN… it kept not disappointing me?

You grow to expect certain scripts, twists, jokes, especially in queer story lines. To wait for the bad thing to happen, because it always does. Instead, Schitt’s Creek kept going, ‘hey, here’s the set up for that! Guess what? We’re not doing it. Here’s the happy version instead.’ The relief of having that happen again and again - the last season I’ve watched (I’m sort of saving 6) I cried a bunch but it was always because I was happy.

Your favorite album or song to listen to this year?

1896 - I’ve been waiting for the new Steam Powered Giraffe album so eagerly for aaaaaages. Finally getting recordings of Zero’s songs! Lying Awake remains my favorite off the album, with Eat Your Heart and Bad Days on the Horizon high up there as well. I’m loving what Zero brings to the band.

Your best new fandom discovery of the year?

I don’t know if I really did discover that much? I stuck pretty closely to old fandoms and the ones I picked up in 2019. Maybe Zodiac? It was definitely inspiring, and I want to write and read more in it.

Maybe the couple discords I joined? I still really dislike discord and am not on there much, and mostly lurk when I am, but having somewhere vaguely like the comms I remember makes me feel a little less isolated. It’s the potential, that maybe if I said something I might make a friend, or someone might actually want to hear what I say.

Your biggest fandom disappointment of the year?

The Watch - I mean, I knew it was going to be a disaster with every word said during pre production. I wasn’t ever going to be happy with it. And then it came out and was even worse and uglier and … disrespectful not just of the source material but of actual people connected to Terry. I’m beyond disappointed that this is what we got, and it’s probably going to be a long time before we get anything else.

Devil All the Time was terrible, but I didn’t have especially high hopes. It still didn’t manage to meet them. Yikes.

The most missed of your old fandoms?

Maybe MASH? Someone I follow started talking about it and I was reminded all over again of the wonderful fics in that fandom. I went looking and a lot are gone (still on my computer, lol, but not online), but rereading was such a trip. A slightly depressing trip, but still.

The fandom you haven't tried yet, but want to?

Hmm. I’ve kind of not had the energy to invest in other fandoms at the moment? When The Witcher was having it’s big moment back in January, I had a feeling I might enjoy it enough to fall headfirst into the fandom, so I avoided watching it. Ikr? I don’t have the time or the energy to actively seek anything out.

Your biggest fan anticipations for the New Year?

SO EXCITED about Winter’s Orbit. I mean, the third Spider-Man movie for sure, with worry. The second Venom movie, ugh yes. I have tentative hopes for Jungle Cruise? Jumanji was stellar and I always enjoy Dwayne. I have both hope and dread for the new Suicide Squad - I did love Birds of Prey, so if it’s along those lines, yay. The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard because it should be some fun garbage, my favorite kind. I don’t know how I feel about Dune, but, uh, I’m anticipating it. It seems highly unlikely it will actually happen, but The Wheel of Time TV series.

I want to be excited about Black Widow but it’s hard. It’s not the story I’ve been wanting to see, and I’m angry about Natasha not getting a movie until she’s dead.

You know. If any of it is released for real.

The Good:

I moved to a better place. I got a better paying, better benefits, better environment job that lets me work from home. The house acquired 3-7 more cats depending on the month. I was able to get some serious problems on my car fixed. I have insurance and was able to start on some health stuff. No one I know got sick or died. I wrote a LOT.

The Bad:

Aside from the obvious? Depression hitting extra hard during the winter. Having to put two kittens to sleep. Have my car be hit three times in our parking lot. Being driven INSANE by one of the cats for months while the vets were all closed. Kidney stone. Dealing with several health problems. Stalling for months on Gotcha.

The Indifferent:

Not leaving the house often or easily. Enjoying a new fandom but not doing great at making connections (still real awkward, bud). Raising kittens and saying goodbye. Need new tires. Reading a lot of fic but not a lot of books. Having more pay but more expenses as well (wth insurance??).

2020 fic stats

Number of stories: 39

Number of fandoms: 6? Or 2, if you cluster the others under mcu

Total number of words: 152049

Average word count per story: 4kish

Longest fic: Causality (18k, P/Q)

Shortest fic: Can’t, Won’t (1k, P/Q)

Most comments received: Sieche (49, T/P)

Fandom you wrote the most of: MCU Spider-Man - I only wrote TWO fics that didn’t feature that fandom, wow. And one of those was still MCU.

Fandom you wrote the least of: Zodiac (1!)

Events you participated in: Marvel Trumps Hate, Kinktober, IornspidersGeorg Exchange, Starker Festivals Exchange, MCU Secret Santa, Spiderio Big Bang

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted?

SO MUCH MORE OMG. I mean, even just counting posted stuff! (I probably wrote a solid 300k of Gotcha this year.) I did not expect or plan on doing Kinktober, so that’s a whole 31 fics right there. I also wasn’t planning on doing any exchanges - I have a History - but then I did three? And beyond that, I did not expect for everything to get so LONG.

Topic you wrote that you would never have predicted in January:

Tony/Quentin. Goddammit @the-me09 They were like hey, they could be interesting! And while I agreed, I had no ideas for them. THEN they had to go and write Just Bodies That Collide and next thing I know, I’ve got ten fics featuring them and two-six series focused on them or Peter/Quentin/Tony. What the fuck.

Leitmotif of the year:

Vulnerability, I think. I had a bunch of things typed up and they all circle back to vulnerability in the end; sex, being seen, being wanted, sharing trauma, asking for help, trying something new. Offering a soft spot in the hopes it won’t be hurt.

Favorite character to write about:

Tony Stark, for sure. There are just a bunch of slightly different takes, and a lot of canon to work with (kind of frustrating too though). And I’m a sucker for emotionally damaged snarky traumatized characters that are viewed poorly both in universe and out.

Favorite kind of fic to write:

This year? Fluff and smut combined. Maybe that’s not the right term really. I keep looking for and writing, even in the angstiest fics, for those soft moments. Sure, maybe it’s a super smutty kink scene, but I want the affection to be obvious. Maybe everyone is consumed by guilt, but I want it to be based in caring too much. Maybe there’s no real love, just sex and even that’s messed up, but I want to find that tiny bit of fondness.

And I want happy endings. Or endings that look like they’re going to be happy, at least, even if there’s all the angst first. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone this year? Who AM I?

Biggest disappointment:

Not finishing the rough draft of Gotcha. I was making such good progress in 2019, from August to December. Even after the move, I basically finished part 6 in January. I fumbled around and fussed with 1 a lot, but that had already been given one draft, really, and I got through half of 4 before I slowed to a stop. I’ve barely gotten anything accomplished on it since June. Bits and pieces here and there, but nothing significant, not like I was doing. I can excuse October, due to 80k invested in Kinktober (yikes!), but aside from that… I’m sad. I’ll finish it eventually, but I really thought I could have the first draft done in a year. I’m sitting at about 480k out of what I’m almost certain will be 700k.

Biggest surprise:

Kinktober! It was kind of spur of the moment, decided just a week in advance. I’ve tried month long or even like, 20-25 day long challenges and I don’t think I’ve ever completed one. I thought there was a good chance I’d do so again, so I gave myself a little help and made my own list of prompts, things I knew I liked and hadn’t done much of yet. And it worked? I actually completed it, what the hell? Despite spending five days travelling near the end! Despite falling behind in getting ahead and writing a bunch of stories the day they were to be posted! Despite apparently forgetting how to do short form!

I, uh, could have done without the spawning of eleven series or sequels or continuations jfc WHY SELF.

Something you learned this year:

Ideas breed ideas. I swear to god, the second I sit down to think through a current idea, I wake up the next morning with three more.

Words need to be restocked. I need to consume new - not rereads, not fic - content every so often to refresh my word bank. It is astonishing how quickly writing goes again after I’ve done so.

I can write so much more than I thought I could. I can do so much more than I thought I could. Yes, I can complete challenges without dropping out early. Yes, I can do exchanges and not regret it. Yes, I can write more than 100k, more than 200k, more and more - and I can write 10k+ easily too. Though I wouldn’t mind if I could once again write less than 10k without feeling like I’ve cut off in the middle.

My time is shrinking, and if I want to write as much, I’m going to have to make the time. I can’t rely on three days off a week, on seven hours of uninterrupted overnight shifts, on hyper focused writing binges that leave everything else around me on fire.

Most memorable comment:

So, so many! I can’t pick one. I’ve been really lucky to get a bunch of really detailed, enthusiastic, analyzing comments across all different fics. One of the types that always sticks with me are the ones like ‘I didn’t think/know I liked this ship/kink/twist, but fuck, apparently I do? You made me, what the hell?’.

What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

So with writing Gotcha but not posting until it’s done, my view of what I’ve written vs anyone else’s is extremely skewed. I’m sitting here thinking, hey I’m 400k in and got another 10k done today, so much writing! While anyone looking at my AO3 account (for most of the year) is like, you’re averaging three months between fics :(

All that to say I want to try and get something posted more frequently while I’m working on Gotcha.

Also, writing for kinktober was really interesting - pushing myself to write every single day, often for that day’s post, forced me to get back into shorter form fic. Which used to be all I did? But it was surprisingly hard to just stop and not write more. So I’d like to challenge myself to write more fics under 10k at least. Maybe even under 5k though that might be asking a lot lol. I might get there with the many continuations of those fics I’d like to do. Does that count?

Goals:

I want to hit 365 fics. :) I’m only 32 away!

Aside from writing -

I’ve really enjoyed the reading record sideblog I started this year. I’ve let it lapse a little the past month or so, but I’d like to keep it going strong.

I’d like to leave a lot more comments. I want to get better about allowing imperfection - I want to write The Best Comment, but in the end? Probably 90% of fic writers are going to be happier with a comment expressing enjoyment in any way over no comment at all.

And not just on fics, but on general posts as well. It’s hard not to feel… weird and stupid and invasive and rude leaving any sort of comment on someone’s post if I don’t know them at least a little. I have godawful rejection sensitive dysphoria and a lot of interactions that ended poorly; I’m really not good at people. But as dumb as it feels to say those things, I know I am thrilled and warmed and happier when there’s a reblog with tags or a note or a comment or an ask or just, any small interaction that shows someone out there notices and cares, at least a little. There’s no reason I can’t at least try to offer that to other people.

I’d like to make/run a couple challenges of my own, later in the year. I’m still figuring out what I want to do and what I could do. I’m really interested in doing something that’s not focused on creators, but the readers; some sort of comment or rec challenge maybe.

I want to find a cheerleader for Gotcha. I’m struggling to keep up my motivation to write it when it’s already in my head, where I can ‘read’ it any time. There’s a line between depending too much on external validation and trying to generate all your validation yourself, and I’m getting to a point where I think I need to ask for help (gasp! The hardest thing EVER).

(Part Two: Pick Some Fics)

#end of year #unsettled rambles

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