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#plus i think his skin and his clothing is more cool toned and i generally use more warm toned colors
oflights · 9 months
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Drarry fashion sense head canons?
ohhh this is such a good one, let me think!!
okay disclaimer is that i think i struggle with describing clothes/often have to go back and add descriptions of them in when i write, but i do like to think about what they'd like to wear!!
i feel like the books vs movies vs shitty word-building makes this both complicated but also like less constrictive. canon is so spotty about magical vs muggle dressing conventions (why are weasley jumpers such a thing if wizards/witches wear robes all the time?? i've assumed it's a generational thing but like, molly knits the jumpers so ?? whatever) so i've tried to sort this out in my head a bit: adult magical folks in adult society generally wear robes out and about; harry's generation is less stringent about it/generally more knowledgable about muggle clothes, but it's still the most popular fashion.
so i pretty much always headcanon draco in robes unless he has a specific reason to be in the muggle world, and then he'll change. he'll wear simple clothes not really meant to be shown off under the robes, unless it's cold and he layers. my brain likes to dress draco in blue a lot, and i tend to picture/describe him as a cool winter, which gives a broad blue spectrum to pick from, plus a lot of jewel tones and bright, cool colors.
his clothes usually have a lot of distinctive, fussy details: fine buttons, embroidery, quality tailoring, belts, a set of winter outerwear that matches, etc. they're the kinds of details that normally go right over harry's head except when it's draco 😌
because harry is definitely more basic when it comes to fashion. he does really like buying his own clothes, relishing getting to choose what to wear about years of castoffs, but never being allowed to choose things means he never really developed taste, so sometimes he gets overwhelmed by choices. he also doesn't like to follow fashion conventions; robes still sometimes feel like a costume to him and he definitely tends towards mugglewear by default, but will wear robes in deference to draco. sometimes he'll wear robes open over muggle clothes as a compromise.
his color palette (clear winter, as i tend to describe him, with warm skin tone, bright eyes, black hair and high contrast between features) is actually similar to draco's, which i imagine draco having a lot of fun with. jewel tones are good on him, too, plus icy colors. draco loves dressing harry way more than harry loves dressing himself, and harry feels so loved and cared for whenever he wears something draco picked out for him.
send me drarry tropes and i’ll respond with five related headcanons!!
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devilyn · 3 years
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i want to tell you i love you | tsukishima kei
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— alexa, play: i won’t let you feel alone again by demxntia
Every single time that I lay my eyes on your face I'm falling for your body and your mind too Forget the past we can leave it all behind you I won't let you feel alone again I won't let you feel alone again, no
— synopsis: sometimes, tsukki wished he could be more honest with himself. because if he had honestly told you how he felt about you, he wouldn’t be standing outside your front door wondering how he should beg you for forgiveness right now. — genre: angst, happy ending, implications of nsfw, tsukki’s pride again. — word count: 1.8k
He wondered if he should even be here, standing outside your door without calling you beforehand. He knew you had to leave in 10 minutes if you wanted to make it to lecture in time, and he knew if you saw him your day would most likely be ruined.
Yet he didn't move from his spot by your front door.
Did you even want to see him? Chances were low. If anything, him being here was more likely to hurt you. But without thinking, his feet had brought him to your doorstep. Softly, he cursed and ran his hand through his hair.
He never knew what to do when it came to you and your undefined relationship.
"What are we?" you finally asked the other night with a softness in your eyes he never wanted to let go. 
"Nothing," is what he instinctively said to keep the walls around his heart up, but he felt it throb in his chest when he saw the way your expression fell. 
He hated labels. He hated defining things. It's why the two of you lasted so long. But it was only natural that you'd want some sort of definition of what was happening between the two of you.
If his high school teammates saw him now, most of them would probably be disappointed in the type of man he became. In fact, they'd yell at him to treat you better. So what was stopping him?
Pride. It was always his pride, and he hated it.
He nearly jumped in surprise when he heard your front door click and then swing open. You let out a similar noise of shock before finally looking up and meeting his golden eyes. Your haggard expression managed to become even more tired than before just at the sight of his face, and suddenly, he regretted coming.
"Why…?" you trailed off, knowing he knew what you meant.
"...needed to see you," he answered honestly, though he almost regretted that too when your brows furrowed and your expression darkened.
"I have class," you responded coldly, stepping outside the warm comforts of your apartment to brave the winter air. Tsukishima could see your breath, and the way you shuddered at the cool wind that blew by.
"M'not here for sex," he murmured and you scoffed, checking the time on your phone.
"Yeah, I figured that. You never come anytime before 9pm for sex," you tilted your head. "In fact, you never come before 9pm at all."
He felt like he was going to collapse, but his feet stayed rooted to the ground as he gazed down at you with an unreadable expression. Despite that, your hard expression softened into one he couldn't understand. He watched you glance at your phone again and curse under your breath. You would be late if you didn't leave now.
"Look, Kei," you stated quickly. "I need to go or I'll be late to class."
"You can miss one lecture."
You rolled your eyes and took a step forward in an attempt to slip past him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to pull his feet from their spot by your front door to plant himself in front of you instead, blocking you from taking any more than three steps away from your doormat. Your expression morphed into one of displeasure once again.
"Kei," you spoke in a warning tone. "I'm going to be late."
"I want to talk--"
"You had your chance to talk last week," you interrupted, voice calm. "So move out of my way, or I'll block your number and you definitely won't be able to talk to me then."
"Either way, we know you're going to end up blocking my number after today anyway," he retorted with narrowed eyes, as you desperately looked for a way around his unnecessarily tall frame. "so let's talk now."
You scoffed and threw your hands into the air in defeat. Quickly, you whirled back around and forcefully unlocked your front door before yanking it open. Before stepping inside, you turn your head to glare at him.
"This is your last chance, Tsukishima Kei." 
He flashed you a bitter smile before following you inside your familiar apartment.
"Excuse the mess," you mumble, dropping your bag by the couch as you head into the kitchen to grab him a beverage.
He closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sealing his fate. How would he go about this? It's not like he came here with a plan. He had acted on emotion alone, and somehow ended up here. Yet, as you said, this was his last chance to be honest with himself, and with you.
"I hope water's fine. I don't have anything else," your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He watched you toss used tissues and napkins from the coffee table into the trash, briefly wiping it down with a wet towel before setting his beverage on top.
He took in your apartment for the first time during the daylight. It was uncharacteristically messy, with an emptied bag of chips tossed aside and a blanket and pillow laying haphazardly on your only couch. Your shoes were kicked to the side, and some clothes that he deemed as your pajamas were on the ground by the couch. As if you knew he was observing the sight, you hurriedly cleaned up the area.
"You don't need to clean," he said softly, though you made a soft noise that sounded like a snort. Clearly, you weren't going to listen to him.
"Sit," you told him as you made your way back to your bedroom to toss everything onto your bed to clean later. "And think thoroughly about what your excuse will be."
He did as you told him, taking a seat comfortably on your couch. He's spent an excessive amount of time here with you, usually with you perched in his lap with your lips against his. You always had this soft giggle he adored, and would try to draw out of you by kissing areas on your neck he knew were ticklish. He would rest his head on your lap after a long day of classes, volleyball practice, and generally dealing with others. You would run your hand through his hair absentmindedly while watching a show on your laptop, and he would gaze up at your focused expression with stars in his eyes. Then, his hand would reach up and pull you down for a kiss, which would eventually lead to more. 
There were many nights where he'd let you force him into washing the sheets because of the mess the two of you made, and you insisted it had to be a team effort because it was mostly his fault for initiating in the first place. Still, the sight of you writhing beneath him with red cheeks pleading for more always made the laundry day worth it. Plus, the bright smile you wore watching him reluctantly pull the sheets off your bed made him feel things he couldn't put into words.
"I love you," Tsukishima whispered softly to himself, as he heard the quiet pattering of your feet become louder with each step as you approached the common area. That was the lame excuse he had come up with.
You took the spot on the other side of the couch, turning so you could face him.
"So?" you tilted your head, fingers messing around with your phone as a distraction. "What's the excuse you came up with that was good enough to force me to skip class?"
He was silent, eyes taking in every inch of your face and the small changes that occurred over the span of the two days he hadn't seen you.
The bags under your eyes were new, along with your chapped lips and the sadness in your irises. His hand reached forward and he inched closer to you, leaning in to cup your cheek gently. Though you allowed the action, you stiffened and never tore your gaze from his. His golden-brown eyes flickered to your lips, thumb brushing over them slowly.
"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, eyes closing as he leaned in again to rest his forehead against yours.
"For what?" you inquired quietly. You were testing him, and he knew it. He deserved it, really.
"For saying you meant nothing to me when that obviously isn't true," Tsukishima still had his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your supple skin as he sighed quietly. The two of you were silent for a bit before you spoke up again, your voice shaky.
"...what am I supposed to believe, Kei? That you really want to be around me for more than just sex, or are you cruel enough to lie to my face to keep me around as someone you can run to whenever you wanna fuck?"
"You're worth more than that," his voice was weak, and he suppressed his pride that scolded him for speaking his true feelings. "And I'm sorry that I made you feel like you weren't. I'm sorry that I disproved my actions with my words because I was scared of giving my heart to someone."
He finally opened his eyes, and his heart trembled at the sight of your teary expression.
"I can't forgive you so easily, you know," your fingers reached up to trace the outline of his jaw, and a pleased hum left his lips.
"I'll make it up to you, until you believe me," he placed his hand over yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing light kisses to your fingertips. Your gaze was soft, admiring the adoration in his eyes.
"I like you a lot," you whimpered weakly, and he couldn't help but smile. He leaned down to finally kiss you like he had been wanting to since he first saw you, his fingers intertwining with yours.
"I know," he mumbled against your lips, and you weakly smacked his shoulder to which he snickered.
"Do you like me…?" you asked quietly, voice even smaller than before, as if you were afraid of his answer.
"...yeah. A lot," he answered honestly, and his heart swelled up with joy at the sight of your teary smile. With a soft giggle that sounded like home to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of you to press your lips to his again.
One day, he'd be able to vocalize just how much he loved that laugh of yours. One day, he'd be able to tell you honestly just how much he loves you.
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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years
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Hi love! Can I get Smut prompt 126 with Bucky Barnes? I love James 🥵
Well hello doll, wow I’m very honored to have you send in this prompt and a little nervous lol. I agree with ya there James is so yummy and fun to write for to. I hope you like it hun.
Smut prompt #126 “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily.” (In bold)
NSFW +18 no minor’s please
Warnings = smut, unprotected sex (wrap if your gonna tap)
James, “Bucky” Barnes x Plus size reader
Okay so this got a way from me and is longer than I intended it to be lol (sorry, not sorry)
Smut Prompt list here
Three months that’s how long you’ve been dating, you haven’t pushed to much. Knowing this whole relationship thing hasn’t come back to him yet. Uncertain how to brooch the subject without it becoming weird. You didn’t want to scare him off that should’ve already happened given the fact that your not a size two. But Bucky chose you over everyone else he could’ve dated. Treating you like a china doll, gentle, fragile four words that make you growl low. Spitting curses under your breath while heading back to your apartment. Having seen the smirk on Nat’s face knowing better than to have spoken to her about the problem. Only getting a smile ‘Talk to him Y/N’ making you roll your eyes and stock out.
Nearing your door, placing a hand on the cool wood body thumping with need from watching Bucky and Steve work out. The play of muscles on that man’s back, his delicious arm flexing and the veins in his human arm Gods don’t even get you started. Seeing the way his black t-shirt clung to his form, ass hugging sweat pants that had you rolling. You wanted to jump his bones right then but turned and left missing the confused look in the cerulean eyes. Having caught the sight of you entering, he misses the next punch that lands him on his ass with a deep chuckle from Steve.
“Should’ve been paying attention Buck instead of watching Y/N’s ass,” extending his hand to help Bucky up getting a groan vibrating from the other man’s chest.
“Fuck you Punk,” getting to his feet and moving to grab up the towel, wiping the sweat from his brow. His focus being shit for the last few days, his thoughts straying to you.
Shaking his sandy blonde head, “Go, we ain’t gonna get anything else done today with your brain focused on her.”
“Little brain don’t you mean Steve,” gruff laughter echoing through the gym as Sam comes over, mirth dancing in those deep ochre eyes. “What’s the matter Buck you can’t satisfy my girl anymore?”
Fire dancing as his eyes landing on the Falcon who keeps the smirk spread across his lips. Knowing he’s hit or so he thinks, a little to close to home. “She ain’t your girl Wilson leave off,” heading for the door determined to find out just why you’ve been ducking him for the last several days.
Which brings us back to you leaning against your door eyes closed tightly memories cycling through your mind of all the times you and Bucky made love. Soft whimpers leaving your lips chased by a heavy dose of frustration and need. Hand slamming palm flat against the door, you didn’t want to worry Bucky but you needed more, wanted more. You also knew the way you’ve handled the situation isn’t the best especially when you hear a throat clear behind you.
Tensing up, forehead still resting against the door that you turn to see Bucky, tight black t-shirt clinging to that scalped chest. Sweat beading along his forehead to slide down his cheek lower to tip toe the lovely expanse of his neck you want to place your lips against. Swallowing you straighten and turn to face him, “Hey Buck what brings you by?”
“We need to talk,” voice flat, keeping his emotions closed off so he doesn’t show you how worried he truly is.
Nodding, reaching for the door handle as Bucky nears unconsciously pressing his chest against your back. The contact makes you stiffen and try to stifle a moan with having him so close. Hand shaking so that you barely can get it pulled down and pushed open. Knowing you needed a clear head for this talk yet how can you when Bucky is looking like a fucking status come to life. You’re all but drooling when you turn to face him and that lethal stance he’s taken up. Arms crossed over his chest making his muscles look ever bigger, one leg stepped to the side while the other remains straight. He’s such a fucking tease to you but totally unaware of the effects he causes you.  
“Fuck no one should look that sexy,” thinking you’ve said the words to yourself but the rambling groan from the man opposite you tells a different story. Swallowing you eyes raise to catch his, this time you can see the heat and desire coloring those lovely eyes pitch.
Stepping towards you, hands fisting at his side the soft whirl of his vibranium plate’s the only sound besides the deep breathing of you both. “If that’s what you think doll then way have you been ducking me?”
Chewing your bottom lip, arms crossing just under your heavy breasts pushing them up. Gaining his attention and the slow slide of his tongue over his lips. Mesmerized by the sight no words form in your mind till that smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. Snapping you from the stupor you found yourself in for a moment.
“I haven’t been ducking you Buck,” to prove his point you turn to head towards the little kitchenette for a bottle of water. Finding yourself thirsty but for more than water. Parched to the point you maybe ready to beg the man who you turned your back on to just take you right here.
Something you knew better than to do with his light footsteps he’s behind you again, pressing his chest against your back. Hands on either side on the fridge, sandwiching you in with his super solider body. Regretting choosing the thin workout shorts and tank top, feeling the heat radiate from him making you pant with need.
“Don’t believe you baby girl, you did it just now,” voice smooth as silk against your ear. Minty breath fanning over the shell with his cheek pressed lightly against your head. Taking in the soft scent of your hair and skin the scent shooting straight to his harden cock making him throb with need.
Knowing all you have to do is turn and his lips would be on yours in a hot second. You hold out trying to form some kind of coherent thought which is almost fucking impossible with Bucky pressing into you. “I didn’t,” bitting your bottom lip to keep the whine from leaving you lips. Feeling the cool metal of his fingers slide down your bare shoulder to wrap lightly around your wrist. That’s when you snap turning quickly in his embrace, fire snapping in your eyes that makes him pause and take a step back.
“Y/N?” confusion making the pupil retract just as his body does. “Did I do something…”
Growling in frustration to slap at his chest, “Yes you did that’s the problem Barnes, you’ve done it to fucking well in fact.” Watching him recoil a step, makes your eyes close to reign yourself in. “Why do you have to be so damn gentlemanly? Treating me like a fucking piece of glass.”
“Y/N I’m not following you,” even more confused than before yet its mixed with desire. That coats his veins, making his cock twitch at your aggressiveness. Trying to bring. himself under control, not wanting to hurt or scare you.
“Ugh,” tossing your hands up, slapping his chest again. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily James.” Praying he get’s what your meaning seeing his brow dip makes you angry and you step forward roughly pulling him against you. Crashing your lips into his, nipping at the plush bottom lip demanding entry. When he remains unmovable your heart sinks and you pull back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” words whispered from tingling lips, body stiff against the island, hands balled tight to keep from roughly pulling you back to him.
Rolling your eyes to look up at him, soft gasp parting your lips at the return of those lust blown black eyes. “You won’t James I know you won’t but sometimes…” sighing shaking your head then look away taking a step.  
“Sometimes what?” vibranuim hand shooting out to grab your bicep to keep you from bolting. “What do you need Y/N tell me.” Gods his voice is deep and gravelly, it takes all your power to keep from flinging yourself back into his arms and demand he fuck you now. Thick thighs rubbing together with one simple possessive hold on your body.
Stealing yourself to look up at him, “I need you to fuck me Sergeant, I need no want to feel you tomorrow when I’m working remembering the way you made me feel the way you took me.” Swallowing harshly hoping you’ve gotten through to him.
“Strip,” single word leaves his lips, eyes flashing dangerously as he pulls you back against him. Hands one cool, the other warm grip your shoulders. “If you want those clothes you’ll take them off doll because God knows I won’t be able to keep from ripping them off your fucking body.”
A shutter licks down your spine at his tone, heat pooling in your core, watching for a moment the tick in his jaw. Hypnotized by the slow bob of his Adams apple that you don’t heed his warning till the sound of fabric ripping meets your ears and your chest is partly bare to his gaze.
“James,” soft gasp leaving your lips, eyes darting between him and your own body. Watching as his vibranium fingers trace between your the soft swells of your breasts setting your skin on fire with the simple touch, coming to pause between the generous globes. Catching the edges of your black bra, ripping the fabric pulling it from your body to join your ruined tank top. As another gasp is wrenched from your lips this time with a tiny squawk of anger. “You’ll pay for those Barnes,” finally breaking from the lustful haze. Wanting to be angry but finding it hard to maintain the heat behind your words with how his touch is firing off tingles and shivers up and down your body.
Full blown smirk crosses his lips, “I warned you sweetheart,” glancing down to catch how your body moves, knowing from the subtle rub your needing release. “About those shorts and panties which I’m betting are soaked right now. Am I right doll? You know I can smell you right, know when your aroused,” brow lifting when no words meet his ears. He takes a step forward you take one back body bumping against the cold refrigerator door. Some how his voice drops another octave as he leans forward caging you in, mouth dangerously close to your ear. “You forgot to say please by the way doll, remember your manners.”
Watching him pull back to capture your gaze, teeth making an indentation in your bottom lip. He groans capturing your mouth with no gentleness. Demandingly thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth, licking into the warm cavern, to tango with your tongue in a dance that leaves you both gasping. His forehead resting against yours when he breaks.  Breathlessly, “Please James fuck me, make me feel it tomorrow, please.”
Deep groan leaves his lip and before you can do anything he’s tossed you over his shoulder, slapping your ass hard enough you know a bruise will be there tomorrow. Only serving to make you squirm in his hold, feeling your clit throb, a moan at being manhandled leaves your lips. Long strides eat up the steps to your shared bed that his tosses you on. Watching you bounce, nipples peaked in the air condition cooled room. Licking his lips, he places one knee on the bed looking the part of a wild man stalking his prey as you move u p the bed to the top. Knowing he has you in his sights, making your body hum with need and reach down to tug your shorts and panties off. Tossing them to the floor, watching his shirt join and shortly after by his tented sweatpants and boxer briefs. Staring for a moment as his thick cock juts from his groin, little pearl drops begging to be licked up sit perfectly on the slit. Til his hand wraps around coating his palm and sliding down the shaft. Desire flaring in his eyes while he watches you watch him. Deep growl rambling from his chest as you tease him.
Spreading your thick thighs for him, fingers tracing your body all sense of modesty nonexistent with the heated look he’s giving you. Plucking your nipples, giving them both a hard pinch that makes your back arch a needy gasp leaving you. Air sucked in through your nose, exiting from your mouth his name riding along on a breathless whimper. “James,” and he’s there slotting between your thighs, one hand wrapped around his shaft stroking twice before running the tip through your folds before slotting at your entrance and start to slide inside you.
Smirking when a huff leaves your lip only to turn into a gasp when he fills you quickly, seating himself deep between your quivering walls. Mouth coming to ghost over your ear, “Hang on doll it’s gonna be a rough hard ride.”
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circus4apsycho8 · 3 years
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HI KLOAT MOM, THIS IS TEM FROM THE HC,,. I WOULD LIKE TO POLITELY REQUEST GRILLBY OR MTT RESORT DATE WITH SANS X TEMMIE (as in, me temmie. not actual ut temmie) IF YOU CAN, THANK YOU ILY PLATONICALLY U COOL <33333
Hey chobleb! SO GLAD TO HEAR FROM YOU! Of course you can <333 Ilyt!! You're cool as well :DDDD
I decided to write this in second person so it can be applicable to everyone. Plus I feel like I’m bad at other POVs haha. This is your pretty generic uwu-sans-asks-you-out-on-date-in-the-underground oneshot but I still hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Sans x Reader
Warnings: mild cussing maybe i dont really remember
It’s not even time to leave and today is already a disaster.
Clothes are strewn about your room, Undyne is trying to calm you down, Alphys is going through your wardrobe and you’re in the midst of a breakdown.
“I can’t do this,” you say, clutching your chest. “I-I-“
“You can, nerd!” she says. “Just take a deep breath. It’s just Sans, and you’re only going out for lunch. That’s all.”
You exhale shakily, butterflies swirling in your tummy. “I’m so nervous, though…”
“That’s just b-because you’re overthinking th-things,” Alphys chimes in as she pulls something out from your closet.
“Exactly. Once you get there, you’ll realize how chill it’ll be,” Undyne says, patting you on the back a few times. “Looks like Alph found an outfit for you. Go try it on.”
You sigh, standing from the side of your bed. Alphys smiles softly as she hands you a dress. It’s an older one – one that Mettaton had designed for you a while back. It was too fancy for most occasions, but not for a date at the MTT Resort. You take it and enter your bathroom before changing into it.
Huh. It…actually looks kind of decent. Well, you expect it would – after all, it was tailored to fit your specific figure. The colors compliment your skin and bring out the color of your eyes. It’s flattering, but not too showy.
You step out of the bathroom, and are met by quiet gasps from your friends.
Undyne says your name softly. “That. That is the one.”
“It’s p-p-perfect! You look so pretty!”
“Thanks,” you mutter, too embarrassed to say anything else.
“Now, wear these shoes…and bam! You look great!” Undyne declares. Alphys nods in approval before she comes up behind you and pushes you out the door of your room.
“N-Now go wait downstairs! Sans will be here any s-second now!”
You roll your eyes as Undyne ushers you down near the front door. You’re too nervous to sit, so you walk around while fidgeting. Mind racing, you notice just how fast your heart is beating.
It’s then you hear a knock emanating from your front door. You suck in a deep breath before gathering you shattered nerves and opening the door.
There stands Sans, one hand hidden behind his back. He’s dressed in a light blue button-up and dark dress pants.
“hey,” he greets, a faint blue staining his zygomatic arches. He smiles, using his free hand to rub the back of his cervical vertebrae. “wow…you look so pretty…”
Your eyes widen as the blush returns at full force. “Oh…thank you. You look handsome,” you compliment, offering him a small smile.
He chuckles in response. “thanks. oh…these are for you.” He pulls his hidden arm out from his back, revealing a bouquet of flowers that must have come from Asgore’s garden.
You gasp in delight. “Sans! You didn’t have to…” You take the bouquet, staring at it in fascination. Such lovely flowers! “Thank you! I’ll go put them in a vase quickly.”
You quickly go to set the bouquet somewhere safe before you hurry back to the doorway. Sans offers a hand to you as you shut the door.
“may i?”
A giggle escapes you as you take his hand. “You may.”
“good, ‘cause i know a shortcut.”
“Yes, your teleportation. We know this.”
He winks. “let’s go. don't wanna be late to our reservation.”
With that, you feel the world fading beneath your feet as he whisks you through the void. Your head begins to spin as you feel the world rematerializing once more.
“Whew,” you say, your head spinning. Sans slips an arm around your waist to keep you upright.
“you okay?” he asks.
You take a moment to gather your bearings, not yet noticing his arm. “Yeah, I’m good now.”
“good,” he says softly, releasing his grip on you. You smile, noticing that the butterflies in your stomach have settled. Undyne was right – it’s just Sans, and you’re comfy with him.
Sans gently loops his phalanges through your fingers, and you don’t pull away.
��
Dinner was – well, it was fantastic. It was a teeny bit awkward at first, but soon enough the two of you were laughing and just overall having a nice time. The food was good, and Sans insisted on paying much to your dismay.
“hey, there’s one more spot i wanna take you to,” Sans says, tugging you out of the restaurant. You giggle, following him.
“Where are we going?”
“it’s a surprise. close your eyes?”
You obey, closing your eyes as he teleports the two of you through the void once more.
“keep your eyes closed. i'll guide you to the spot.”
“Okay. I trust you!”
With that, Sans loops his arm around your waist and guides you through the area. You try to figure out where you are by using your other senses. Judging by the sound of rushing water, and lack of a freezing cold temperature, you can assume you’re in Waterfall. But where is Sans taking you?
“k, you can open them now.”
You open your eyes, and gasp. Sans has taken you to a dark cavern filled with echo flowers, a small stream, and gems embedded in the walls and ceiling. The only illumination here is provided by the echo flowers.
“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” you note, smiling. You turn to Sans, studying how his bones are cast in the soft blue light of the flowers.
“it’s a secret hideout my bro and i have. i don’t think anyone else comes here.”
“That’s crazy,” you note, lifting the skirt of your dress a bit so you can kneel in front of an echo flower. You smile as Sans settles next to you.
“These flowers are so cool,” you note, gently touching one of the flower’s petals. It softly echoes back what you just said. “I wonder how they work? I mean, I understand it’s, well, magic, but still. It’s so incredible…”
You trail off, studying the flower for a moment later before you glance at Sans once more. He’s gazing at you with soft eyelights.
“you’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, tone soft as raises his right hand to cup your cheek.
Your blush returns tenfold as you melt into his touch. You press his hand against your skin and smile.
“Thank you,” you reply, holding his gaze and scooting closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You know, you look so cute all dressed up.”
He chuckles lightly, brushing your cheek with his other hand. “thanks.”
Now, you’re so close that your nose is lightly pressed against his nasal bone. You still haven’t dropped your stare, and soon enough, Sans leans forward, pressing his teeth against your lips.
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smokahuntis · 3 years
Text
Don’t want to run around
Pairing; Poe dameron X reader
Song: Joji ~ Xnxx
Warnings: SMUT, fluff actually really fluffy for me. Dirty talk, cream pie
Summery: Poe and (y/n) everyone knew they were sleeping together, it was no secret, but it also wasn’t a secret the commander was a playboy. It was usually just a distraction at night or in the morning. But after the war Poe realized it was more.
Authors note: i do not know who owns these gifs, I’ve had them for awhile from Pinterest and there was no credit, I’m sorry, feel free to tag them if you know! Also reblog!
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I don’t really want to run around
It had been awhile since they’d seen each other, after everything was settled and they could relax for a bit they went back to their families. It was much needed for both of them, time away from the base and spent with their parents and siblings. But that time away made Poe realize a lot, he needed her.
“So, how’s (y/n)” his mother asked happily, she’d met the girl multiple times and always urged Poe to make a move but he never did, so she decided she’d bug him to death.
“She’s doing great, she took a bad hit awhile back and her arms in a swing but she’s healing quickly” Poe said looking up from his food with his charming smile.
“She was always a strong girl, head strong, physically, mentally” his mother said with a smile, Poe thought it was a normal conversation so he didn’t mind.
“She’s be great to have kids with” she smirked, he nearly chocked. All he could do was smile and nod in shock of his mother’s words.
“It’s about time we had grandkids” his father added causing Poe to shake his head.
Time is going slow and I don’t mind.
“She’s not really a relationship person” he finally said, looking between them. “Plus, I have all the time in the world” he said and they nodded. It was his last night there before he went back to base. So after dinner, when he was laying up in his bed he couldn’t help but let his mind roam. What would it be like if he actually settled down with her, he could do it now after all. Only thing to worry about would be, well, rejection. But she can’t really deny him, can she?
Come on, who would deny Poe dameron, leader of the resistance, best pilot in the galaxy.... she would, it’s (y/n)
Tell me if you know I’m really found
She never cared for titles or reputations, she cared about the soul, who you were inside. She actually hated Poe when they first met, thought he was a cocky asshole, of course she was right. But she humbled him since then, he’s been better. She made him sweet and honorable. He wouldn’t admit it tho, he was still stubborn as a bantha.
However they hadn’t really talked much, both of them busy taking care of others and helping other planets, sometimes she thought Poe was mad at her, always sending her away when she had free time. Of course people needed help still, they needed to recover but it seemed anytime she could be with him he pushed her away now.
Fuck around a bit and get it right
She felt almost abandoned by him, so she started avoiding him too, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think about him. They thought about each other constantly.
Soon, they would see each other again, be able to work again, and now that (y/n)’s arm is all healed she could work again. But first, she had to see Poe.
Now his ship was landing and she couldn’t wait, she was tired of staying away and having a cold bed, the only thing waking her being the sun. She was tired of opening her eyes to white sheets. He was tired of reaching over and finding nothing.
I don’t really wanna run around
Neither of them really knew why they were so distant, not on the surface anyways. Deep down they both knew why, they were scared, scared of admitting to themselves and each other that it’s not just sex anymore. Not now, not ever again, it’s not just sex. Never had been.
Poe was ready to confront her, say something, he planned the whole thing in his mind, what he’d say, how he’d say it, he knew. He had it together, calm, cool, collected. Then he saw her, he froze, but she didn’t. She smiled that beautiful smile that made his insides feel warm as she walked to him.
She was beautiful, even in just a simple pair of brown pants and a white shirt wait, is that his jacket? That’s his jacket, he’s been missing that. That’s not the point, the point is.
“I missed you” she smiled and hugged him tightly. Taking in his scent of leather, space and cedar, a faint apple smell from where his mom washed his clothes. His arms wrapped around her quickly, around her waist tightly, picking her up and spinning her softly.
Round’ round’ round’ round’
“I missed you too, sock monkey” he teased her and set her down, smiling at her.
“Hows your family” she asked dusting off his shoulders with a smiled. She was so excited to see him she couldn’t keep her excitement.
“They are great! Oh-um mom sent this for you” he said grabbing a medium sized box from his ship. Handing it to her, she smiled at the red ribbons before untying them. He eyes lit up seeing the lovely grey blanket she knew his mother handmade. She’d been asking for one of her chunky knit blankets forever now.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you- tell her I said thank you” she smiled up at Poe as she hugged the blanket.
“I’m sure she knows” he smiled at her and messed up her hair “it’s a queen size just for you” he chuckled, she wrapped herself in it, she moved it so much already. It faded from light to dark grey and smelled of apples and Poe’s ship. It made it more special.
“She didn’t have to do this” she said doing a spin with it like it’s a cape.
Round’ round’ round’ round’
Poe smiled at her and sighed contently before picking up the red ribbon she dropped, as she stopped he gently tied it up into her hair. She was a strong girl, like his mother said, mentally and physically, but around him she was so soft, like a flower. He loved it, she was comfortable with him. So after he tired they bow in her hair she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to the captains quarters, or rather, Poe’s room.
She made quick work of getting him their, no running this time, specially since she had the door locked as she looked at him, laying the blanket over his desk. “I missed you...” she whispered walking towards him
“I know you missed me” he smiled at her “I missed you too” he whispered as she got closer.
Her hands ran up his chest slowly, her little fingers starting to undo his shirt as she looked into his chocolate eyes. “How much did you miss me?” She asked quietly before his hand lay on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, leaning down and placing hot long kissed on her neck.
Saying all the rhymes that make your world go round’
“I missed you so much” he whispered against her skin, coating her neck in his thick saliva as he gripped her her back, his other hand running down her thigh in search of skin to touch. He felt starved now, even with her in his hands he felt so hungry. “I could tear you apart right now” he whispered and tore the front of her pants trying to get them open.
“Fuck- Poe” she whispered finally pushing his shirt off his shoulders as they stood in the middle of his quarters. “I liked those”
“I’ll buy new ones” he moaned and pushed his hand in, past her panties. He started on her clit quickly, rubbing it
Round’ round’ round’ round’
It made her let out a gasping moan as she started tearing his belt off, backing him up to the bed hungrily placing kissing on his skin. She pushed the rest of her jeans off along with her black panties, letting his hands go back to her needy clit as he moved to lay her on his bed.
“Let me show you” he moaned kissing down to the collar of her shirt
“Show me what?” She asked a little confused before he smirk and sucked on her clavicle.
“How much I missed you” he tore the shirt open, taking her bra with it. His lips attached to her right nipple quickly, his other hand massaging her perky breasts, his leg rubbing against her wet cunt with his rough jeans. She couldn’t keep her moans quiet, not now, not after how long she waited for him again.
Cupid pass another my way
Poe looked up at her with his big doe eyes as he sucked her nipples till they puffed up, switching back and forth till she was begging to be touch. “Poe! Poe please” she whined and tugged his graying hair, her hips aimlessly grinding on his thigh as he pressed it to her core.
“Please what?” He smirked and started his dissent down her body. “Go on tell me sock monkey” he chuckled and slowly pushed her thighs apart more as he kissed just over her slit, teasing bastard.
“Please eat my pussy- please- touch it- fuck it - anything just let me feel you” she whined looking down at him, he didn’t need to be told twice.
Another night, a lot more days
Quickly he sucked her clit into his mouth, sucking on it like an octopus on a rock. He smirked internally knowing her loud moans belonged to him. He took so much pride in knowing he’s the reason she made a symphony.
He held her thighs up the best he could but quickly they watched around his head like she was trying to suffocate him, he was okay with that. If he died here Poe Dameron would be a happy man.
“Poe!” She moaned and tugged his hair, pulling him closer before he pushed two fingers into her core, pumping them quickly in and out, massaging her G-Spot each time he pulled out. He knew her body like the back of his eyelids, he dreamt of her body. It was hard to think about her without needing to ‘be’ with her.
Hard to think about you anymore
(Y/n) soon arched her back and gasped for air as she tugged on his thick curls “I’m going to fucking cum” she whined and he pulled away from her clit, moving his fingers faster.
“Yea, baby? You gonna cum on my fingers or my tongue? Tell me baby, tell your general what you want” he purred in his cocky tone, she was putty, she melted in his hands like butter.
“Your tongue! Please!” She whined pathetically before he removed his fingers and gripped her hips tightly, shoving his tongue as deep as it could go, spelling his last night inside her, hopefully her future last name.
He knew by the way her hips shook she was blissed out before she screaming out in pleasure for him and lifted her hips to get away as she came. He wasn’t even done with her and she was painting his face. God she was gorgeous.
But I keep you in my mind always
It’s hard to look at her right now and not want to keep her like this always, shaking on his tongue as she came down. He worked her down from it as he kissed her up body, she needed this, but now they both need something a little different.
“Think you can take my cock baby?” He asked pushing her messy hair back.
“Y-yes- please give it to me” she looked up at him with her watery eyes. He chuckled and tapped his two wet fingers to her lips, this was a form of consent they shared for her second round. If she denied it she was done, if she opened her mouth and tasted it they continued.
She smiled at him and slowly opened her mouth, taking his thick fingers into her mouth and sucking the juices off them. She moaned at the taste as he smiled.
“Good girl” he praised undoing his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. “Always so good” he whispered to himself as he watched her, lifting her left leg to his shoulder as he got ready.
Called you on the phone last night
“Ready sock monkey?” He asked with a smiled, one hand holding her hip, the other on his cock.
“Yes general” she whispered and bit her lip, soon his thick cock was pushing past her entrance and into her needy cunt. They moth moaned and she grabbed her breasts quickly. Tweeting her nipples as he licked his lips, leaning down and kissing her lips deeply, slipping his tongue in for a heated kiss.
Quickly he pushed the rest of his fat veiny cock into her, right where it belongs. He let her get comfy as his hand moved from her him to her stomach, feeling over the little place it poked out. He loved seeing it bulge, he loved knowing that was his cock, and soon it would be his baby. What? Why is he thinking that right now.
“You feel so fucking good princess” he whispered and started moving slowly, she couldn’t even form words, she just laid their and tried not to cum again just from the pressures.
Couldn’t hear your voice, I fight
“Speak to me baby, let me hear you” he groaned and grabbed on of her hands, holding it above her head as he moaned. Going faster slowly.
“You-you fuck me so good” she whined in a pathetic whisper, he chuckled at her.
“Poor girl can’t even speak” he groaned in her ear and sped up. His balls slapping her ass as he fucked her tight little pussy into his mattress.
I won’t be around you anymore
He fucked her like it was his last time, he knew it wasn’t, he knew he’d always have her but something about this moment made him worried. Not about now or before, but after, when he tells her how he feels. He’s scared.
So right now all he cared about was fucking her like he was loosing her. So that’s what he did. He starting going to quick and leaving hickeys all over her she couldn’t even process, and the only thing she had to hold onto was his hand and his back.
“P-Poe! Poe I’m going to cum!” She screamed and clawed his back
“Cum- cum for me, let the whole base know” he whispered in her ear and kissed her again before she was busting all over him. Her moan was muffled for a moment before he pulled away and she screamed in such pleasure it probably woke The dead Jedi from their thousand year slumber.
I’m a dream where you feel alright
He was following close behind, drilling into her in a few rough thrusts before he came inside her, painting her inside like a diy Christmas ornament as he moaned her name.
Heavy breathing followed, until he laid beside her and held her hand. It was silent for a moment after they caught their breathes before they looked at each other and laughed. They can’t believe how loud they were, and that they couldn’t wait 5 minutes before tearing each other apart.
He smiled and leaned over kissing her after their little laugh, she smiled and gladly kissed back before looking at him. “I missed you” she whispered
“I’m glad” he chuckled and sat up in his elbow, looking down at her, pushing her hair back and kissing her head, nose, then lips.
I don’t really wanna run around
“There’s something a need to tell you” he whispered looking at her, her finger tips danced gently on his cheek as she smiled at him.
“What is it...?” She asked.
“I love you...” he admitted, she stopped moving her fingers and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Really?” She asked, looking over him for any signs he’s lying.
“Yea- I... have for awhile and I just never admitted to myself and - I thought... if I hide it I’ll never tell you and you’ll move on and find someone better and forget about me and run away- and have a family- and a husband- and two kids - and a spatcha farm and-“ she shut him up, leaning up and kissing him deeply.
Time is going slow and I don’t mind
She pulled away slowly and smiled at him, looking him in the eyes “I love you too, Poe” she admitted with a smile “Ive lover you for what seems like forever I just- I knew you were a relationship guy so I... I pushed it back”
“Oh- I thought you didn’t like relationships” he said
“Oh I don’t, but I liked you that much”
“Liked?” He asked offended
“Yea, liked, I love you now silly” she poked his nose and giggled, he smiled and kissed her lips happily.
Tell me if I’m really found
“ can I ask you something else then?” He asked getting you and grabbing the blanket and his pants, digging in his pockets for something.
“Yea, anything” she smiled at him, sitting up on her elbows as he got back in bed with her. And pulled something from his pants pocket she thought she’d never see, not now at least. A small ring, in the center was a large pink tinted diamond, paired with two smaller diamonds on the side, all set on a silver band.
“Poe...” she whispered
“I know it’s- odd timing but in reality we’ve been together for years without a label and I’d like to label that’s now as engaged and soon we will label it as The Dameron’s ... if you’ll let me, I’d like to marry you... and share the rest of my life with you and whatever the galaxy has to offer...” he smiled at her and grabbed her hand. She smiled at him happily and nodded
“Yes! Yes I’ll marry you! Of course I’ll marry you!” She hugged him tightly and kissed him. She didn’t feel any happier then in this moment with him. Finally she could officially be with the man she loved and she didn’t have to hide any of it in fear of rejection, it was them against the galaxy now, and they were proud of it. They got it right.
Fuck around a bit and get it right
Tag list: @a-dorin @everythinggeeky @onabouteverything @blxwjobsforclones @jediminddicks1000 @poeticandors @thisis-theway @petalsrdead @cedric-and-zukos-wife @patersonshoney @obiwkenobi
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dionnaea · 3 years
Text
Promises
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pairing: kenny ackerman x reader (platonic), slight levi x reader
warnings: angst, character death, mild swearing
wc: 4.4k
a/n: so, so sorry this took so long!! i decided to combine these two requests and change them up a little, so i hope that’s okay! i’m really proud of this piece, so i hope you all enjoy it, too. xx
side note: technically this is a sequel to my other fic Pot Meet Kettle but it’s not entirely necessary to read that first.
requests:
Your writing’s so good I’m cryin’... Also, I’d LOVE to see what you have in mind for Kenny and Reader’s background! 👀 Were they both underground? was Reader already in the Corps when they met?? did she learn how to punch creeps from Kenny?? Plus I’m very curious about what he meant by her fixing broken hearts!
could you do a part 2 to the pot meet kettle levi fic? i really loved it and i think it would be cool if you could write a part 2 based off the kenny vs levi scene in season 3? like maybe kenny sees the reader and he's like good to see you again and levi is like mf what idk im not creative :(( sorry if this isn't enough
attack on titan masterlist | general masterlist
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After Rod Reiss had been taken down, the scouts were sent to search the ruined fields for survivors. It was unlikely that any were left, but Erwin was adamant that no soldier would be left behind. You respected him for that, and went on your way to do your job. 
As you wandered, you ran into a returning scout, someone you didn’t know the name of but were sure had been paired with the Captain for this mission. His head was down as he walked, like there was something he had seen that he shouldn’t have, and your mind began to fill with worries for Levi. Had something happened? 
Making your steps slightly heavier in the grass so that he would notice you, the man finally looked up, quickly saluting to his superior. You brushed him off, instead getting down to business. 
“Where’s Captain Levi, cadet?” 
The man’s eyes darted away from your own before he answered. “Taking care of something, I think.”
You raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the soldier’s weary tone. “Oh? And what is he taking care of, might I ask?” Everything about this seemed peculiar, and you weren’t having it. 
“I don’t know. Something… personal.” When he finally met your gaze, he relented, sacrificing the Captain’s privacy for his own sake, too scared to see what your reaction would be if he kept playing coy. “He’s that way, by the big oak tree,” he stated, pointing in the direction he came. 
You squinted, making out the shadow of the tree in the setting sun. You dismissed the cadet, and quickly made your way towards Levi, his body becoming clearer as you approached. Once you were a reasonable distance away, you called out, but were met with silence. As your worry grew, you moved faster, only stopping when you realized what was going on. 
Levi was kneeling, his body covering the person in front of him. It didn’t matter, you’d recognize those spurs anywhere. 
“Kenny?” The name was uttered in disbelief, and as you stepped around Levi, your eyes grew wide with fear. “Kenny!” 
Immediately, you jumped into action, your scout training taking hold of your body as you knelt by your friend. Your hands hovered over his burnt and bloodied body, not knowing where to start but ignoring the possibility that it was too late. “How… How do I help you? I-I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes were tearing up, and your breathing was getting ragged as you struggled to find some solution. “Please, Kenny, tell me how to help!” 
“Kitten…” His voice was rough as he spoke, his usual tones of confidence and charisma gone. You met his half-closed eyes with your wet ones, begging for him to give you some answer, some, any sort of reassurance that things would be alright. 
“Please,” you pleaded. You had never sounded this pitiful in your life, but you didn’t care, and as his shaking hand grabbed your own, a sob wracked your body. “Kenny, please. Please stay.” You couldn’t help, you knew that, but you hoped for once in his life he would listen to you. 
His eyes began to shut, and his voice fell to a whisper as he said, “Stay safe, kitten.” With a barely there squeeze of your hand, his body went limp, his hand dropping from your grasp.  
You stared in silence, shock overtaking you for a moment. But then, all you felt was anger. “No. No! You promised!” You were yelling at this point, fist reaching out to bang on Kenny’s chest in retaliation. A strong grip on your wrist stopped you, but you weren’t done. As if he could read your mind, Levi wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you back from the now dead man. You were screeching obscenities at both Kenny and Levi as you struggled to break free. Soon, your screams turned into sobs, and as you fell limp into Levi’s arms, you let out one last whimper, a last cry for help. “You promised.”
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Later that night, as you pulled a camisole over your head, a knock sounded on your quarters’ door. Truthfully, you had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone. You had had a long day, you had just changed into your pajamas, and you weren’t in the mood to join your fellow soldiers in celebration. Still, you pulled the door open a few inches, hoping it would be someone you could easily send away. To your surprise, Levi stood outside dressed in plain clothes and hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. Even more surprising was the newly formed bruise on his cheekbone. The reddish-purple mark stood out against his normally flawless skin, and you found yourself staring, only Levi’s sharp voice bringing you back to reality. 
“You did that, you know,” he commented with a blank face. 
“What?” You opened the door a bit more, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?” 
His left eyebrow cocked up just barely. “When you went berserk earlier. Before I managed to snag both of your wrists,” he explained. He reached up a hand to brush against his cheek. “Damn, you hit hard.” 
You weren’t sure, but the tone in the man’s voice made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to cheer you up. Against your will, the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest bit. “Did you expect anything less?” You quipped, wondering what his answer might be. 
“No.” He shrugged. “Just surprised it took you this long to punch me in the face.” 
At that, you let out a laugh. It was true, the man had managed to push every single one of your buttons during his time with the Scouting Regiment. The two of you were in constant conflict, arguments over the smallest things popping up out of nowhere. At some point, Erwin had decided that Mike would be the babysitter of you two, keeping you both in line during training and even more so during squad leader meetings. You started to smile at the memory, but when you remembered that Mike, like so many of the others you loved, was dead, your expression fell. 
Moving your eyes to stare down at the uneven floorboards, you spoke quietly, but sincerely, “I’m sorry.” 
Levi knew you weren’t just apologizing for hitting him but for everything, and as he studied your face, he made a decision. “Do you want some tea? I keep a special brand in my room.” It was the only thing he had to offer, and both you and him knew it. 
You froze as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Follow the Captain to his room or mope around alone until you cry yourself to sleep? In the end, it was an easy choice. Still, your heart stuttered in your chest while you gained your composure. You took a breath before responding, “Um, sure.” 
There was a beat of silence, as if the two of you were readying yourself to take on some new, mysterious foe. And in a way, you supposed, you were. About a month after Levi had joined the scouts, there had been an… incident of sorts. It wasn’t disastrous or anything like that, but Erwin had quickly ruled that the two of you weren’t allowed to be in the same room together without someone else present. A wise decision on his part, if you were being completely honest, and something that Levi nor you argued with in the slightest. But now, years later, it seemed both of you were ready to break that rule, Levi making the first move as he turned on his heel and waited to see if you would follow. 
Out of all of the scouts, you were known to be the most stealthy. Mike was usually the only one who could sense you were coming, claiming you had a distinctly pleasant smell that his nose had no problem picking up on. One time, he had even claimed that you were the best smelling person in the Survey Corps, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. Hange had whispered to you later that evening that that was his way of flirting, but you never took her seriously. You weren’t interested in dating anyways. No one had ever really caught your eye minus one man, but you always said it was more of a fascination than a crush. 
Even your ODM gear seemed to be quieter than the rest, and you once managed to spook even the Commander when you landed on the same tree branch as him without him knowing. You naturally existed silently and sneakily so when Levi picked up on the sound of your sock-clad feet shuffling behind him, the pit of concern in his stomach grew. 
Reaching his quarters, he unlocked the door wordlessly, holding it open so that you could enter first. Your eyes widened as you took in the space. First of all, it was much bigger than your room. While you only had a bedroom and bathroom to yourself like the other squad leaders, Levi had a small living area with a couch, small coffee table, and even a desk. There were papers neatly stacked on top of it, and the rest of the area was just as orderly, his tea kettle sitting in the exact center of the coffee table. Only when you sat down on the couch did you see the small fireplace he had. It was just big enough to fit a tea kettle over it, and that’s what Levi proceeded to do. 
You let out a low whistle, capturing the man’s attention. “Wow. When did you get so important?” You asked, motioning lazily about the room with your hand. 
Levi scoffed and placed a hand casually on his hip. “Erwin gave it to me when he moved into the Commander’s quarters. Reward for the highest kill count or something like that.” His voice was so nonchalant that for a moment, you didn’t realize that he was insulting you. No, you thought, it was more of a tease than an insult. 
Now it was your turn to scoff, well aware that your fellow Captain was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Levi watched as you rolled your eyes playfully, firelight glinting off of your irises. Had they always been such a pretty color? 
The whistle of the kettle broke him out of his reverie, and he swiftly turned back to take it off of the heat. When he brought it back to the table, he was pleasantly surprised that you had already prepared the teacups, him only having to pour the water in and wait for it to steep. Hesitantly, he moved around the table to take a seat next to you, wondering when the two of you were ever this close. The events of the day popped into his head, and he did his best to ignore the fact that the thing he remembered the most about it was you being in his arms. Still, a question had been lingering in his mind, and he figured now was the best time to ask it. 
“Y/N,” he started, and you looked over with wide eyes at the use of your first name. You honestly weren’t aware that he even knew you had a first name. “Can I ask you a question?” You knew what was coming, but you forced yourself to nod anyways, giving him silent permission to know your secrets. “How do you know Kenny Ackerman?” 
It was a loaded question, and you let out a breath as you tried to figure out the best way to tell the story without getting either you or Kenny into trouble. Even the secrets of a dead man needed to be protected sometimes. Despite it all occurring years ago, the government’s threat towards you regarding the release of information hung heavily in your mind. Both you and Levi would be in danger if you revealed too much. He could swear himself to secrecy, and you would trust him, but the risk would never be worth the reward. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, worrying your lip as you thought of how to start to explain. 
“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, gathering your nerves before continuing, “About a year and a half before you joined the scouts, I got myself into a bit of trouble.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise as you were widely thought to be the most well behaved and well intentioned scout there was. He thought he was the only person who could get you riled up, your scoldings from the other squad leaders and the Commander always leading back to him. You sent him a small grin. “I wasn’t always the goody two shoes I am now, Levi.” 
“Anyways, it became kind of a big deal in the Capital, and a lot of higher-ups were calling for my head.” You let out a light chuckle. “Imagine just turning 19 and having almost every MP looking for you. Scary stuff.”
“Wait.” Levi held up a hand to stop you before you could continue. The story had just started, but he was already having trouble believing that this was the truth. If not for the darkness that rested just behind your eyes, he would’ve called bullshit as soon as you said your first sentence. “What exactly did you do?” 
You looked away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment, an internal debate raging on inside your head. With a sigh, you relented. “I… I can’t tell you everything, but let’s just say it had to do with a certain Premier and confidential papers being stolen from his office.” Levi’s eyes grew wide, and you took that as a sign to continue. “No one knows except Commander Erwin, but I spent most of my teenage years in the Underground. I was born within Wall Sina, so I had papers to be up top, but I much preferred being below gro—”
“Why?” Levi was quick to cut you off, his expression hard and tone almost offended.
“My parents owned land in Wall Sina, and when they died, they left none of it to me, so folk got the idea in their head that I was a problem child. I wasn’t wanted there, so I left.” You shrugged, and Levi’s face softened. “I admit, the Underground wasn’t easy, but I was quick on my feet and smart for my age. I survived and I survived by myself. Help wasn’t something I wanted, but when you’re suddenly being chased by the royal government, it becomes something you need. That’s how I found Kenny, and it’s why I owe him my life.” 
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It had been a week since you had completed your assignment, already turning in the materials to the man who had hired you and returning back to your comfortable life underground. All had seemed to go swimmingly, and your confidence had grown tenfold. The feeling of being unstoppable was addictive, and you craved the sensation of that feeling again. You let your thoughts drift to what you could accomplish next, but sudden screams quickly snapped you out of your daydream. Straightening in your chair, you peeked out of the window of the tavern you currently resided in. Fear grew in your chest at what you saw.
Standing right outside were five MP’s, fully equipped with ODM gear and holding up a wanted poster with a poorly drawn sketch of your face on it. It was clear that they were asking for your whereabouts, and you were thankful to see that every person was shaking their heads to say no, they had no idea. Even with the solidarity of your fellow Underground citizens, you knew you had to get out of there and away from the sharp swords that hung off of the men’s waists. Before you could move, though, two of the men entered the bar, their eyes sweeping over the patrons. 
Right before their eyes could meet your frightened ones, your world was encased in darkness, the only light you could see coming from below you. You blinked, trying to understand what exactly just happened, but soon realized that a large hat had been placed over your head. Carefully, you lifted the brim so that you could see, and were met with the piercing silver stare of a man a good amount of years older than you. Apparently your confusion showed on your face because he quickly pushed the hat back down so that it shaded your features. 
He spoke in a quiet voice, only letting you be privy to whatever information he was about to share. “I’d keep that on if I were you, kitten. Don’t want the MP’s seeing your face, now do we?” You didn’t dare speak, but quickly shook your head, showing him you were listening and following instructions. “Good,” he dragged out the vowel, and the table shook as he placed his leg onto the table. Were those cowboy boots and spurs? You were pretty sure people only wore those in stories. “Now,” he stated, “We’re just gonna have a nice, pleasant conversation. Lots of giggles, ya hear me?” You nodded, the hat moving up and down your forehead. 
As the man started spewing nonsense, you did your best to play along, laughing like he said to and keeping your face covered as best you could. You could hear the MP’s getting closer to your table over the man’s rowdy voice, and the hand gripping your drink began to shake in fear. Smoothly, the man took your hand in his, making some weird comment about how soft it was. You frowned. Your hands weren’t soft at all. What was with this guy? 
The realization of what his plan was smacked you in the face, and you let out light giggles in response, putting on your most fake voice as you thanked him for the compliment. The things you were saying to each other became sickly sweet, so much so that you almost laughed at one point. As the soldiers approached your table, the mysterious man leaned in close, his alcoholic breath fanning over your face. Calmly, he swept the hat off of your head and placed it so that it covered both of your faces from the men who were now only a couple of feet away. 
A swift kick from under the table spurred you into action, and you let out a girlish moan followed by an exaggerated giggle. He followed suit, making a comment about how nice your lips were. If it were any other situation, you would punch this man in the face, but for right now, you’d listen to every command he gave you. From behind the hat you heard one of the MP’s mumble about ‘couples these days’ with a gagging noise coming from the other. With one last lovesick comment from the man in front of you, the MP’s retreated, leaving the tavern with muttered curses leaving their lips. 
Your savior leaned back into his chair, a smirk adoring his features as he placed his hat back on his head. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, you in shock and him in some state of glee. You decided to speak first. 
“Who are you?” 
“The name’s Kenny.” He kicked his other leg up on the table with a thwack! as the spur hit the cracked wood. The silence grew again, but this time you were at a loss for words. Sure, his name was Kenny, but was that all he was going to say? Apparently not, but when he spoke up again, it was entirely unhelpful. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
You frowned, unamused. “Maybe for you. I should punch you for some of the things you said. Strange men shouldn’t talk to unassuming ladies like that.” Your tone was laced with a bit of sarcasm, and he guffawed.
“I don’t think fugitives from the crown can be considered ladies,” he shot back, and you huffed. His face grew serious. “I’ve been watching you for a while, kitten.”
You raised your eyebrows at the nickname. “It’s Y/N, and, uh, what?” Once again, this man completely took you by surprise. 
He shrugged. “You may not know it yourself, kitten, but you’re well known down here in the Underground. A mysterious girl who arrives without a sound, stealing from the above-grounders and sharing the wealth with the rest of us? You’re practically a legend; some people don’t even believe you’re real, but those that do would protect you with their life.”
This was all news to you. Yes, those were things that you did, but people recognized you for it? You furrowed your eyebrows and blinked quickly as you tried to puzzle the situation out. “I…” You struggled for words.
Kenny held up a hand. “It’s true whether you believe it or not… But, it seems that you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew this time, my friend. Stealing from the Premier? Tsk, tsk.” His tone was more playful than condescending, and you gave him a weary grin. 
You sighed and finally relaxed back into your own chair, studying the man’s face. It showed his experience rather than his age, and you wondered just exactly who he was. Taking a chance, you pried for more information. You hated being in the dark. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” 
His smile grew at your curiosity, crooked teeth appearing under chapped lips. “Someone who can help you. If you want it, that is. It seems clear you like to work on your own.” There was a challenge laced into his words, and you wondered what the right decision was. On one hand, getting involved with someone else, someone else you knew nothing about at that, was a dangerous game. On the other, you were in trouble and you needed all the help you could get. 
Taking a chance, you slowly nodded. “Okay. What do you have in mind?” 
He explained his plan. The MP’s didn’t know your name, so it would be easy to get above ground using your old Wall Sina papers. After you expressed your concern and with a chuckle, he dismissed their drawing of you, stating that once you got above ground and cleaned up, you would be unrecognizable from your old self. Then, with his next words, you lost your confidence in his plan. 
“You want me… to join the Survey Corps?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Uh, no way. That’s right under the government’s noses!” 
He brushed you off. “Eh, not really. The government already dislikes the Corps. They’re not gonna care who’s in it; they figure you’ll all die soon enough.” At that, you gave him a very blank stare, and he just laughed, stealing a swig from your mug. “You’ll be fine. You don’t seem like the dying type.”
It was true, you had escaped the jaws of death on multiple occasions, but you weren’t in the business of actively riding towards your demise. That seemed plain idiotic to you, and you made that known. “This isn’t a joke. It’s my life on the line,” you countered.
With a swift movement, his legs were off of the table and his body was leaning in towards yours, the weight on his elbows making the table creak. His eyes turned dark, levelling your gaze. “It’s your life either way. Would you rather die by the hands of the Military Police after they’ve done God-knows-what to you? Or would you rather die on your own terms, possibly fighting for Humanity’s freedom?” 
It was a good question, a fair question, and one you immediately knew the answer to. You sucked in a breath as you resigned yourself to your new fate. “So, how do we do this?” 
With another grin, Kenny explained the rest of his plan. It really wasn’t a bad idea, and you were grateful for the help. But still uncertainty settled in your stomach.
The day you were to join the Corps, Kenny had told you he would meet you before you left. You hadn’t seen him in about a week, and in that time, you had completely changed yourself, moving up top, getting a haircut, and finally wearing clean, untorn clothes. It was weird and different, but a part of you enjoyed it. This was a new start, you had chosen to believe.
“Kitten!” You turned towards the easily recognizable voice with a roll of your eyes, but the playful smile that toyed with your lips gave away your true feelings. “Give me a spin!” He requested, and when you did, he let out a loud whistle. “Damn, you really look like you belong up here.”
You raised your eyebrows with a grin. “That’s the point, right?” 
“Precisely, my friend, precisely.” Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he began to walk with you towards where the ferry would pick you up. His pace was slow, obviously not in a rush to say goodbye, and you felt the same. Somehow, the two of you had grown close over the past month. Even with all of the secrets you both kept from each other, there was an air of freedom when you were in the other’s presence. No lies, no false personalities, just friendship. 
It was refreshing, to say the least.
For once, you both were quiet as you walked. The weight of the future hung over both of you, pressing your mouths shut. He managed to speak first, his voice cracking for the first time since you met him and giving away his true emotions. 
“Stay safe, kitten.” The words were serious, and something in him couldn’t stand to let that be the last thing he said. “You’ll kick those Titans’ asses.” 
Normally, you’d laugh, or at least smile, at his cheesy jokes. Instead, you stopped walking and turned until you both faced each other, looking up to meet his eyes. With a swallow, you asked something of him that you knew was unfair, was selfish, was wrong. Yet, you still asked, knowing Kenny wouldn’t hold it against you. 
“Promise me you won’t die before me.” 
His eyes softened in understanding, crinkles forming around their edges as he gave you the most gentle of smiles. He knew what you needed to hear, knew it would be a lie, knew you’d hate him for it. But, he said it anyway.
“I promise.”
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HASO, “Dye and Diversity.”
Hope you guys enjoy the story today 
Yeb stared.
She tilted her head this way and then that, and then continued to stare on the other side.
A soft sigh, “My eyes are up here.”
Yeb looked up to where the human was staring at her ascance his head slightly tilted.
“What?”
“Sorry dumb joke.”
He pulled to a stop, and the strange wheeled chair below him pulled to a halt.
She stared some more, “That is so strange! It looks so fun!”
Her interjection seemed to surprise him, and he glanced down  at the chair, “Um, I suppose I’ve never thought about it. It’s kinda fun sometimes. I don’t use it much.”
Yeb waddled behind the chair and clambered up on two little pegs she saw jutting  out from behind, “Why not?”
“Well usually I can walk, and it is generally frowned upon to use a wheelchair if you don’t need one.” 
Yeb felt a rush of wind as he pushed the chair forward, and they began to roll slowly down the ramp, “Well why not?”
He laughed and shook his head, his earlier sour demeanor lost behind grim amusement. A few of the others came to join them as they rolled downward and off the platform. Yeb lifted her eyes  wide-eyed in shock as she stared at her strange and unusual surroundings, and the massive interior docking bay of the space station…. To think! An entire city built in space! Looking around she could see ships of many sizes and designs, and other unfathomable and strange creatures hurrying this way and that.
A thought came to her, “Why aren’t you using the arm sticks?”
“Arm sticks…. Oh the crutches?”
“Yeah.”
“My arms are sore from using them, and plus the wheelchair seems safer on the station. I'll Be less likely to trip and get hurt.”
“Oh ok!.”
It still surprised her to no end that the human had even managed to survive without a leg. At first she thought he might have been born with that deformity. On her planet, while it was possible to survive with an issue like that it was not very common at all. She could think of only one Tricar she had seen live to adulthood in such a condition. There were always complications, plus, while Tricar were semi-social they tended to live only in mating groups and abandon their pups at a very young age. 
If you couldn’t survive to adulthood in the cold metal mazes  of her planet than that was a personal problem.
She climbed up higher onto the back of the human’s wheeled chair to get a better look. She wobbled dangerously in her excitement, her hands and feet not exactly built for climbing with her stubby fingers and large flat feet.
With wide eyed excitement she looked all around them marveling at the diversity of lifeforms. There were so many of them!
She pointed to one, eyes wide, “What alien is that!”
The human turned his head to look then frowned “What do you mean?”
“That one right there!”
He frowned and looked again then laughed, “Oh well Yeb, that is a very tall human.”
“Oh, she frowned.” It sure didn’t look like any of the other humans she had seen, sure it was the same general shape, but it just looked so different that she couldn’t have been sure. But she supposed now she could see the resemblance. Like a stretched human.
“How about that one!”
The human continued to smile, “That is a human with a lot of fat, Yeb.”
“Oh….  what is that?”
“Er, like blubber but not really.”
That translated better and her ears flipped back over her head in mild understanding, “Oh, I get it, so those humans must be from cold climates, and that’s why they have insulation?”
“Not exactly.”
Her head turned and she pointed to another group, “Are all of those humans too!”
“Yes all of those are humans.”
“So pretty!” She exclaimed, they came in such interesting and new color combinations, ice white to stone ebony. Granted they all looked human, but the diversity in them was so astonishing that it was hard to believe they could all be the same species. As a biologist herself she might have assumed that maybe they were under the same classification, like fish, and how fish all sort of looked the same but that didn’t mean they were in the same biological category.
“Are they all the same subspecies?” she wondered.
“Yes.”
“Really? But they all look so different!” on her planet while they did tend to be diverse in height, their fur was generally always the same color, a grey white.
“There used to be other subspecies of humans a long time ago, but then they slowly started to die out. At the end it was only the Homo Sapiens and the Homo Neanderthalensis. Both of them coexisted for a while and even interbred but then the Neanderthal died out leaving only the Homo Sapiens with some Neanderthal DNA in certain cases,so we are all that's left, and our diverse lifestyles have given us different adaptational traits despite being the same species.”
She stared at him enthralled by this strange revelation about humans.
“For instance, in the middling areas towards the equator, things are a lot warmer and the light of the star hits the Earth directly, so humans kept their original dark skin color as protection against UV rays which can cause DNA mutations leading to cancer. A lot of times humans towards the equator tend to be taller and leaner which helps them to not overheat.”
“Your planet has a climate that diverse?”
“Yes, we can be as cold as your planet, or more than twice as hot.”
She stared wide eyed and shuddered at the thought.
“In fact, where I grew up we had seasonal changes in temperature. In the summer it was about thirty degrees hotter than the comfortable level I keep on the ship, and in the winter it could plunge to temperatures well around your home world.”
“How does anything survive in a climate so varied?”
“With air conditioning and heaters.” he said smiling, “Anyway, humans slowly began to move north, and as they did the rays of the sun couldn’t cut so easily through the atmosphere, as they were angled. That meant less UV light actually making it to earth. Problem is, humans need the sun to create certain vitamins used in the body. Darker skin helped to block the sun's rays when they become too much, but when there is less sun it isn’t so easy, and so humans developed lighter skin tones that were more vulnerable to sun damage but more easily allowed for the creation of those vitamins. In addition humans in higher climates tend to be shorter and stockier to conserve heat.”
“So…. you can tell where a human comes from?”
“You can tell where their ancestors come from.”
“So your family is from a cold climate?”
He smiled, bright white teeth showing the light above, “Yep, my ancestry stretches back to Russia, Norway, and other assorted parts of north eastern europe, but my family has lived far away from those places or the past few thousand years.” He smiled, “And yes, I can trace my lineage that far back. We’ve had pretty good record keeping for the past few thousand years considering we have internet databases stretching back about that far, and massive archives.”
“Wow/” She muttered quietly, “And I don’t even know who my mother was.”
The human raised an eyebrow at her, but by that time she had already transitioned to looking and pointing at something or someone else. She loved looking at the humans, they were so diverse and strange, and there was always something new to see. Sometimes it was their clothes sometimes it was their skin, sometimes it was their hair,
Sunny, the big blue Drev, placed a hand on the human’s shoulder in a quick gesture, “I am going to go look for the parts, I’ll get back to you in a minute ok?”
“Cool, bring me a working leg when you do.”
“She snorted but nodded and walked off,while he and the others continued onward.”
Yeb lifted her head in wide eyed wonder watching as they passed down a dark hallway from the docking bay, and then out, into an absolutely massive room. It was so large they might as well have been outside, a huge curving room in the shape of a doughnut that went around for miles and miles in either direction. Much of the ceiling above the mwas covered in some sort of see through glass structure giving her a view of space outside,and the rest of the expansive station highlighted by thousands of stars and hundreds more blinking lights.
Voices echoed and warbled all around them as hundreds and thousands of people filtered through the station like slow moving ice water. The room was so large that they had even built structures on the inside, which rose up many stories into the air glittering with colorful neon lights. She saw hundreds of aliens slipping in and out of these buildings and passing overhead on catwalks high in the air, talking, chatting and walking together.
It was all so alien and she was so excited.
She almost fell off the back of the chair as her unfit feet and hands slipped off a climbing surface. A hand steadied her from behind, “Don’t get too excited.”
She was pleased to find after that that the humans were very interested in bringing her around and showing her all of the new things. WIth her ability to eat a wide variety of food, she even got to try and taste some of their more strange concoctions, both excited and repulsed by some of them.
They walked past another shop whose brightly glowing lights attracted her like a moth to a flame and she backpedaled. Sounds pulsed and throbbed around inside her head and brightly colored pictures decorated the walls. On the inside, she watched in wide eyed fascination as one human sat patiently arm exposed, as another inked a pattern onto their skin with a whirring machine. The colors they used fluoresed under the strange blue light above.
A hand on her shoulder, “that is probably a human tradition you don’t want to experience.”
“What?”
“Tattoos, injecting ink directly into your dermal layer through use of tiny needles.”
She cringed a bit, “Why?”
“Because you can get cool pictures.”
There was a hum from beside her as one of the other humans walked up, “Maybe not the tattoo, but…” She trailed off and pointed to the other side of the room where humans were sitting in chairs leaning back as other humans painted strange chemicals on their fur. One of them stood up, and when she did, her hair was long and blue.
Yeb stared, “You change your fur color!”
“Yeah all the time.”
Adam rolled up behind them, “I don’t know if that's a good idea, we don’t know what kind of chemicals….”
“Well there is only one way to find out.”
They turned to look at her, “Want to dye some of your fur a cool color?”
She was so excited all she could manage was a squeak. The thought was so strange and exciting. There was only one fur color on her planet, to think that she could just go and change it!
Why hadn’t her people thought of this!
“YES!”
Her enthusiasm seemed to surprise them, but with smiles they were very encouraging and walked in with her as one of the humans came to greet them, “What can we do for you.”
Maverick patted Yeb on the shoulder, “Our alien friend here would like to go a different color.”
The human looked down and started with a frown, “Er…. what…. What are you. You don’t look like any Tesraki I’ve ever seen.”
“That's because she’s not. A new species, just coming into the galactic community. Anyway what do you say?”
The human paused then shrugged, “Long as you sign a waiver saying that we aren't responsible for any allergic reactions or damage to the hair of an unknown species, then sure.”
They glanced at Yeb, and she waved it off, “Let's do it!”
It was probably a horrible idea to have a team of humans not exactly known for their good life choices cheering on a naive Tricar as she chose bright neon green which was supposed to be at its brightest on the top of her hair and fade down slowly to the furn on her back.
The humans were excited all around, and she drew a small crowd as they began the process.
She probably should have been more concerned not sure what the chemicals would do to her, but nothing ventured nothing gained: that was a human expression she had learned just a few minutes ago, and she really liked it.
Warm water ran through her fur, and then a strange sticky paste was applied to it. Shehad to sit around and wait for a little bit as the color set, and then sit around some more as they washed the residual color out. When they were finally finished, she was turned to face the mirror, and her eyes went wide again.
Her grey white fur, against the bright neon green!. She turned back and forth watching the light glitter over the bright color.
“Wow.”
“Wow.”
“Wat have we done.”
“I love it!” She exclaimed, leaping out of her seat to look at herself more readily in the mirror.
She watched as Adam leaned over in his seat and passed his arm over some sort of device.
Se assumed he was paying for it and was quite pleased walking out of the shop with her new fur enjoying the eyes on her as she passed.
It wasn’t long before some of their other companions returned. Sunny turning to look at Adam with a frown, “What did you do.”
He raised his hands, “Oh come on, its harmless, na look at how happy she is. Come on.”
Sunny rolled her eyes..
“Spirits give me strength.”
Yeb capered around the group, rubbing her paws through her newly colored fur. It didn’t feel any different, but she sure FELT different.
She was sure she was going to really enjoy all these strange human things.
Then again.
She had really only experienced the good things.
It would remain to be seen if she was going to be able to handle the darker side of humanity. 
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here's my design for goty 2022 (in an au where copyright isn't an issue)
FACTS
name: nia mahdi
age: 11
ethnicity: persian
religion: muslim
family: nia is an only child. she was born in charlottesville, va, after parents immigrated there from iran.
notes: nia is autistic and trans <3
DOLL
face mold: nia would get a new face mold that is designed based on ethnically persian features
skin tone: 25 ("tan skin with warm neutral undertones")
eye color: dark brown
freckles: yes
hair cut: wavy, very long (kanani length)
hair color: dark brown
meet outfit: a trans pride flag colored scrunchy for her hair, a light blue zip-up sweatshirt that says "i am proud to be autistic" on the back, this t-shirt (a light blue t-shirt with fan art of dreamer with a trans pride flag cape) beneath that sweatshirt, these shorts (pastel plaid knee-length shorts), lindsey's striped leggings beneath those shorts, and sperry shoes
meet accessories: bright purple ear defenders, an AAC tablet, a doll-sized version of the 2021 dc pride comic book, this pink kryptonite chewelry
BOOK 1
(these books would have three authors - me, an author who is muslim and a second generation immigrant, and an author who is a trans woman of color. the reason for three authors is so that we can tell nia's story authentically - i'm autistic and have autism gender like nia, the second author is muslim and an immigrant like nia, and the third author is specifically a trans woman of color like nia.)
in chapter 1 we'll briefly go over this background information:
nia came out to her parents as trans on the car ride home from the last day of first grade. she chose the name "nia" because she wanted to name herself after nia nal, a character on her favorite show (supergirl) because nia nal is trans like she is, nia nal is an alien (and nia mahdi oftentimes feels like an alien around other humans), and nia nal is a really cool superhero! (unspoken: nia nal is nia mahdi's special interest.)
it took nia mahdi's parents a little bit of time to wrap their heads around her truth, but soon, they fully accepted nia for who she is.
that summer, her parents informed nia's school of her correct name, pronouns, and gender. and nia started growing out her hair, and she's never cut it since! nia loves her long hair.
when nia started second grade, nia's classmates sometimes accidentally called her by the wrong name and pronouns, but they always apologized and corrected themselves when nia pointed out their mistake. a few kids were confused, but once nia explained that she knows she's a girl just as well as you know you're a boy/girl, they all understood and accepted her :)
now onto the real content of the first book, which takes place from september to december:
nia's just started sixth grade at a new middle school. it's really loud, big, and hard. but she has a friend, ender. ender doesn't speak english well (he moved to america from turkey just last year), but that's okay because nia has trouble speaking sometimes too.
one day, nia's parents take her to a doctor, and she has to answer a lot of questions and take a lot of tests.
a few weeks later, nia's parents sit her down and tell her that she has been diagnosed with autism.
nia researches autism and feels very relieved and validated. (unspoken: autism becomes one of nia's special interests.)
at school, nia gets some cool accomodations: she's allowed to wear ear defenders at lunch and in the hallways, she can keep a tablet in her backpack to use for AAC when necessary, and she can use the school's sensory break room when necessary.
one time, nia gets very upset after receiving a "bad grade" on a reading test. a few of the questions asked her to identify characters' emotions, motivations, etc., and nia wants to explain to her teacher that her autism makes "emotional reading between the lines" hard for her. but she's so upset that her mouth isn't working properly, so she uses her AAC to talk to the teacher.
after that, one of nia's classmates makes a rude comment about her AAC. speaking through her AAC, nia explains to him why she uses her AAC. she stands up for herself.
in her free time, nia keeps researching autism and disability justice advocacy. she begins to think that her friend ender might be autistic too - he has a lot of autistic traits, and she's never felt alien around him in the way she does around most people.
she tells ender about her theory. ender says he's not sure whether or not he thinks he's autistic. but he does know that the hallways are far too loud, and he would like to be able to wear ear defenders like nia. so nia lends ender her spare pair of ear defenders.
the next day at lunch, ender gives nia back her ear defenders and reveals that he got in trouble for wearing in the hallway. the teacher thought he was wearing headphones and listening to music (which isn't allowed), and ender couldn't remember the english words to explain to her that they were just to shield him from the noise.
nia wants to help ender be able to wear defenders. she schedules a meeting with the guidance counselor. together, she and ender explain to the guidance counselor that ender just wants to wear ear defenders in the loud hallways. the counselor says that ender can't do that since he doesn't have an official accommodations letter.
nia leaves the office very upset. she knows from her research that autism diagnoses are very expensive and hard to get. she wants to find a way to get ender this accommodation without an official letter.
so nia makes a plan: she and ender write a long essay explaining why ender should be allowed to wear ear defenders.
they present the essay to the counselor, and she's convinced by their arguement. ender is now allowed to wear ear defenders in the hallway :)
to celebrate their victory, nia buys ender bright purple ear defenders (the same type she has) so that they can match :)
and that's the end of book 1
BOOK 2
book 2 takes place from january to march
nia goes on puberty blockers. nia's glad that she won't have to go through male puberty, but she also feels weird about it. nia is very excited to start wearing a hijab, and her mom says that she can start wearing a hijab when she goes through puberty and transitions from being a girl to being a woman. so, if nia isn't going through puberty now, when will she get to start wearing a hijab?
nia talks to ender about her problem. ender suggests that she should talk to her mom about it.
nia talks to her mom about her concerns. nia's mom explains that the shift from girl to woman involves more than just her body changing: it involves growth, strength of spirit, and learning about oneself. nia's mom will be able to tell when she's ready to start wearing the hijab, even if nia isn't going through puberty. nia feels a lot better now.
the next day at lunch, nia tells ender the good news. he is very happy for her. he then tells nia that he's scared of puberty too. he asks nia how she knew she was a girl, and nia explains how it was this strong internal feeling. ender reveals that he feels like he's not a boy or a girl. he's afraid that that means he's weird or broken. nia explains that he's not weird or broken - some people are non-binary, which means that they're not fully a boy or fully a girl. ender really likes that word. nia also tells ender that some non-binary like to use the gender-neutral pronouns "they/them" and asks ender if he would like her to start using those pronouns for him. ender says that he's not sure. he likes he/him pronouns, he thinks, at least for now. nia smiles and tells him that she's proud of him.
the spring dance is in march. nia and her mom go shopping for an oufit. at first, nia drifts towards the pretty dresses. she loves how they look and feels great in them, but she wants to try on suits too. she feels a little bit insecure when she realizes that she loves how she looks in the suit too. (plus, this navy suit will go better with her purple ear defenders than the colorful dresses will.) she's scared that her classmates will think she's not a "real girl" if she comes to the dance in a suit, but then she remembers her conversation with ender - when ender asked her how she knew she's a girl, her answer was that it was just something she knew. her gender isn't defined by her clothing preferences - she's just as much of a real girl in this suit as in those dresses. so nia buys the suit, and she feels very happy and confident.
at the dance, she finds that ender is wearing a skirt (and a tuxedo shirt and blazer). she runs up to him, and they both happy stim. they have a lot of fun dancing and snacking on cheez its together.
BOOK 3
book 3 takes place from april to june
the main plot of book 3 is going to be nia's grandmother visiting from iran for three months. nia learns a lot of new information about her family culture.
in june, to celebrate the end of the school year, nia's school has a multi-cultural night.
ender signs up to bring in some traditional turkish food and share some of the poetry his dad has written in turkish. he encourages nia to sign up for multi-cultural night too!
so nia signs up.
together, nia and her grandmother cook a ton of traditional iranian food to share at the celebration. she and her grandmother also work together to sew a special kaftan for nia.
the night of the celebration, nia dresses up in her kaftan and grabs the containers of food. as she's getting ready to leave, her father asks her to stop so he can take a picture of her. her mother says, "wait! i have one other thing for the picture!" (but spoken in faarsi). she emerges with a hijab for nia. she helps nia put on the hijab and tells nia that she's seen how nia's grown into a woman this past school year (aka, over the course of these 3 books). nia is so happy that she cries.
at the multi-cultural night, everyone loves the food and nia's kaftan and hijab. when ender sees nia's hijab, he starts happy stimming, and nia starts happy stimming too.
that's all my plans for goty 2022!
15 notes · View notes
ruzek-halstead · 3 years
Text
misery loves company
pairing: luke patterson x julie molina
everyone knows luke and julie are in love with each other, except them. when luke gets sick with the flu, it becomes the little push they need.
slightly au (boys are alive)
"you're not about to tell me something like that and walk out, julie. that's not how this works."
masterlist || ao3
requested by: @5sosmukefan​ 
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They were an hour into their band practice, and one thing was becoming increasingly obvious.
Luke was losing his voice.
At first, they thought he was trying something new; he always liked to experiment with what he could do and he was always practicing the levels of raspiness he could use, like he did in Bright. But by the end of the last hour, it was clear that wasn't the case.
"Luke, I love you bro," Alex started hesitantly, twirling his drumstick in his fingers. "But what the hell is happening with your voice?"
Luke frowned. "I hear it too."
"You seem to be sweating a lot," Julie noted and Luke raised an eyebrow. "Much more than usual. Are you feeling alright?"
"Of course I am. I don't get sick," he scoffed. He took off his guitar and placed it back in its stand, grabbing his hydro flask to rehydrate. In truth, Luke was looking a little pale, but denial was a powerful concept.
Reggie snickered, blanking his face when Luke turned to him with a stormy glare. "Either way, I think we should call it. You're sounding rough, my man."
Luke rolled his eyes in defiance, but Julie truly didn't like his colour. She walked over to him, setting her palms against his cheeks. He went slightly cross-eyed trying to look at her and question what she was doing. She placed the back of her hand against his forehead.
"Not sick my ass," Julie mumbled, "Luke, sit down, you're definitely catching something."
Luke's eyebrows furrowed together; the coolness of Julie's palms did wonders for his skin. "But I don't get sick!" He repeated in a whiny voice. Julie solely rolled her eyes and pushed at his shoulder so he'd fall back on the couch.
"You two should probably go," Julie redirected her words to Alex and Reggie, who looked confused and slightly offended (Alex). "Don't give me that look. You three were the ones who refused to get the flu shot like I did, and now you're going to pay for it."
Reggie's eyes widened. "Luke has the flu?" They'd never seen him put his bass down so quickly. "Peace out buddy! I'm steering clear of you like the plague!"
"So, you're going to stay with him?" Alex asked Julie with a raised eyebrow; she nodded. "You hear that, Reg? Julie is going to stay and take care of Luke! Isn't that just the cutest thing you've ever heard?"
Julie's gaze flickered between Alex and Reggie, who were both wearing devious grins. "I don't know what your tone is implying, but your presence is annoying me. Make yourselves useful and go get some medicine or something."
"She's touchy today," Alex whispered in Reggie's direction. He narrowly missed getting hit by the pillow Julie lodged in his direction. "Fine, I'm going! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
Reggie snorted, "that's not much then." Alex smacked him upside the head. "We'll be back! Feel better Luke!"
Julie wasn't an idiot. She clearly knew something had changed between her and Luke recently. Since the very beginning, it was hardly platonic. There was always that chemistry between them; they just didn't know where it would lead. And to be honest, she still has no idea. Things between them hadn't progressed in the way she wanted in the slightest. The only difference was that everyone seemed to suspect something was going on between them (re: Alex, Reggie, Flynn, Carlos and her dad), which explained Alex's smartass comments. But the most that had happened were small touches here and there as they wrote new songs. And their songs hadn't changed much either; she had been writing more romantically charged songs on her own, but every time she came together with Luke, he steered them in the complete opposite direction.
She honestly didn't know where she stood with him.
Luke was currently laying face down in a pillow, shivering. Julie rolled her eyes, almost certain it was because he refused to wear shirts with sleeves. She grabbed a blanket from the back closet and draped it across his shivering form. He turned his head to the side and peeked open an eye, mumbling a soft, "thank you." She took this opportunity to feel his forehead again, and he was still burning up; he groaned at the coolness of her touch.
"I'll be right back," she told him. He mumbled something unintelligible in response. Julie pulled up Netflix on the television and chose the first show that appeared (Modern Family because Alex was obsessed with Mitchell and Cameron, naturally). She escaped back into the kitchen where she grabbed a bowl filled with ice water and some small hand towels.
When she entered the garage again, Luke was sitting up on the couch, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair was matted against his forehead from the sweat and the angry pout on his lips nearly made her drop the bowl of ice water. "Julie," he groaned, beckoning her to come closer. "Is this what dying feels like?"
"You are such a baby," Julie snapped, sitting down across from him on the coffee table. Luke shot her an affronted look. "If I can go on with my day while Satan's ripping apart my uterus, you can handle the flu."
Luke looked as if he was going to retort, but a small smile appeared on his lips instead. "Yeah, you're right," he replied, "you're a badass, Jules."
"Don't I know it," she sighed, taking one of the hand towels and placing it against his forehead. He instantly leaned forward with a satisfied groan, resting his palms against her knees. They didn't have much room between the coffee table and the couch, and their knees knocked together. "How does that feel?"
"Like heaven," his eyes literally rolled into the back of his head. "Thanks for staying and taking care of me, Jules."
Julie dipped the cloth in the bowl to avoid meeting his gaze. "Yeah, of course," she muttered in response. "I'd do anything for you, you know that." She wasn't sure what prompted that confession, but now it was out there.
Luke’s gaze narrowed on Julie’s face, even though she was looking everywhere but into his eyes. “Yeah. I mean, me too. I just — you’re my best friend. Couldn’t do this whole life thing without you.”
She wasn’t expecting to feel anything when she heard the word friend. It should have been fine, because they are, in fact, best friends. But her chest constricted and she squeezed the cloth absentmindedly, dripping water onto Luke’s lap.
“Shit, sorry,” Julie apologized, avoiding eye contact as she bit her lip. She wasn’t generally a crier, but she was unable to stop her emotions from displaying all over her face and she didn’t need him seeing that. She placed everything back onto the coffee table and hastily stood up. She knocked her knees against Luke’s and his hands fell from her knees as if his touch burned her.
Luke was confused. Julie flipped off like a switch, and he’s only seen that happen a few times before.
“Uh — what just happened? Did I say something?”
“No,” Julie forced out a laugh, “no. Everything’s fine.”
Luke frowned. He wouldn’t fall into the trap of basic girl talk. Again. “This seems like one of those situations where girls say everything’s fine, but it’s really not fine, and next thing you know, they’re cutting up all your clothes."
"You already do that," she shot back, pointedly looking at his absent sleeves.
"I know you're not complaining because you get to look at my amazing biceps every day. And don't think I didn't notice you're changing the subject."
Julie rolled her eyes, busying herself with grabbing the bowl and dumping it out in the bathroom sink. Luke followed her, groaning in pain. He looked like absolute hell; pale, sweaty and determined to get an answer out of her.
"Julie, talk to me, please."
She avoided his gaze, skirting past him. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Bullshit," he snapped. His eyebrows furrowed together and his signature pout adorned his lips; he was starting to get annoyed. "Are you forgetting I know you nearly as well as you know yourself?"
That small statement lit a fire inside of Julie.
"Clearly you don't," she fired in response and Luke took a step back in surprise. "Because if you did, then you would know what's wrong. You would know that being your friend absolutely sucks because that isn't what I want! I want more and shit, I thought you did too!"
Everything came spilling out of her at once.
In any other situation, she would rather choke on pure air than confess her feelings for Luke, much less like that. But it happened. And now he was staring at her with wide, bewildered eyes, and Julie didn't know how she should go about it now.
So, bolting seemed like the correct option.
She was halfway to the door, when Luke grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. He was still pale and looking ghostly, but his eyes were shining bright as they focused solely on Julie.
"You're not about to tell me something like that and walk out, Julie. That's not how this works," he told her in a serious tone. All traces of his usual goofy nature were gone and Julie cursed herself for ever saying anything in the first place. Everything was too serious and too real, and she just didn't want to deal with it. "Don't you want to hear what I have to say?"
Julie pursed her lips, staring at his collarbone, rather than up at his face. "Not really. Can we just forget I ever said anything?"
"What if I don't want to?"
At this, Julie looked up. She was surprised to see his eyes focused solely on her; they softened when they met her gaze. "Julie, you mean the world to me. I just didn't want to do anything that would make things weird in the band. Plus, it's hard to know what you're thinking."
He still wasn't being exceptionally clear, and Julie wasn't entirely sure what to make of his statement.
"Well, I wasn't intending to say anything now either," she admitted quietly.
"I'm glad you did," he replied quickly. His grip on her wrist travelled down to hold onto her hand. "One of us should have the guts to admit how we feel about each other."
She hesitantly bit her lip. "You know, I haven't heard much of anything coming from you."
Luke's smirk widened. "You're right," he conceded. "I should probably let you know that I think you're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and I've been into you since I first saw you in school. And I'd really like to kiss you right now, but I'm not entirely sure your flu shot will protect you from whatever the hell I have."
Heat instantly rushed into Julie's cheeks and she resisted the urge to shy away, because this was real and this was happening. "So, what does this mean?"
"Well, I guess I should start with asking you on a date."
For someone who avoided talking about their feelings for so long, he sure was doing a fantastic job.
"Julie, would you like to go out on a date with me?"
"Yeah, I'd love that."
Luke broke out into an excited smile, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her into his chest. He couldn't kiss her right now, but he sure as hell could show his affection in other ways. He pressed his lips against her temple, enjoying the quiet. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he could hear Julie's breathing start to slow. It's been a long time coming, and he still wasn't where he wanted to be, but they were getting there.
Their quiet moment was interrupted when the garage door slid open forcefully.
"Reggie! It's happening! It's freaking happening!"
Luke groaned at the sound of Alex's voice.
"Reggie! Get your ass in here now!"
Julie turned to the door, staying tucked into Luke's chest.
Alex was shooting them an excited grin, slapping Reggie's bicep repeatedly when he finally joined them.
"Oh, finally! Carlos, get in here!"
Julie let out a squeak of indignation at the sight of her little brother staring down Luke.
"Well, it's about time," he said coolly, surprising both Luke and Julie. "Boys, I want my money by sundown, or else."
Reggie stared after him as he walked away, scratching the back of his neck when Julie sent him a withering glare.
"So, we may or may not have placed a bet on you two," Alex explained. He didn't seem sheepish in the slightest.
Luke chuckled. "Who's 'we'?"
"Literally everyone," Reggie replied.
"Carlos, Flynn, your dad — literally everyone," Alex smirked. "Honestly, you two are pretty clueless."
Julie hung on tighter to Luke, enjoying his warm embrace. She thought it might feel weird in front of their bandmates, but surprisingly, it didn't. The proud and giddy expressions on both Alex and Reggie's face was enough to relax her and help her realize that this was what she was missing all along.
"Yeah, we are," she mumbled with an upwards glance to Luke and his bright smile.
"Oh my god! I need to call Willie! We're going on a double date!"
x
i hope i did this request justice!! i had a bit of trouble with the ending so sorry if it sucks tehe, but i’m a sucker for luke and julie confessing their feelings for each other!!! hope you all enjoyed!!!
stay safe everyone x
116 notes · View notes
bcbdrums · 3 years
Text
A Day in the Life of Bonnie Rockwaller
What, not a Drakgo fic!?  No...no it is not.  This one is all about Bonnie.
A girl only really seen through one lens on the show, perhaps misunderstood... A cheerleader, twelve-years a ballerina, a good student, the youngest in her family, and dating a football star. The "mean girl."
What is her life really like?
Happy (belated) birthday to the amazing @sharperthewriter!
FFn     AO3
----------------------------------
A Day in the Life of Bonnie Rockwaller
The alarm clock went off too soon for Bonnie Rockwaller on that Thursday morning. With a groan she reached over and slapped the device until the beeping stopped, and then blinked at the bright sunlight creating a glow at the edge of her teal curtains.
She didn't want to get up. But winners didn't sleep in.
She rolled out of bed, untwisting her dark red leopard print pajama bottoms and spaghetti strap top from where they had shifted in her restless sleep. She hadn't slept well, again.
She slipped her feet into her fuzzy slippers that matched the pajama set and grabbed her phone off her nightstand, unplugging it as she hastily flipped it open to check her messages.
There weren't any.
She pushed down the pang that tried to creep into her chest, and instead turned to her wall calendar next to her desk. She paused for a moment to look in the bright mirror above the desk, tousling her hair with one hand and giving a half-grin at the way it fell over her shoulders. She looked incredible even straight out of bed.
The pang tried to enter her heart again, and she frowned and turned to the calendar, confirming the day's events with what she already had in her phone planner. After cheer practice she planned to go to the boutique for the final fitting of her homecoming dress, and that night she had ballet.
After nodding to herself that all was correct, she flipped over to her text messages out of habit. Her thumb hovered over the message at the top that hadn't been replied to from the night before as she considered sending another. But then with a scowl and another pang she closed the phone and tossed it onto her unmade bed.
She stepped over to the barre that her parents had had installed in her room and began her routine of ballet stretches. She forced the distracting thoughts about the lack of message reply away and started going over the new Mad Dogs cheer routine in her head. Ever since she and Kim had become co-captains of the squad, she couldn't help but admit...the routines had gotten better. And harder.
Bonnie sighed.
After finishing the stretches she changed into her black leggings, blue sports bra, socks, and running shoes. With the workout she knew she was going to get after school, she needed to get plenty warmed up ahead of time. Plus, she was worried she might have gained a few pounds in the last month and might not fit into her gown.
After tying her shoes, she grabbed her mp3 player and set it on her workout playlist, which included her favorite upbeat songs by Britina, MC Honey, the Oh Boyz, SmashMouth, and more. She also had some strange rap song that she'd seen once on American Starmaker that had topped the charts, but she could never remember the name of the artist.
She popped her earbuds in and hurried past the bedrooms of her siblings, hurrying out the door of the split-level home into the crisp, cool morning air. She set her stopwatch for seven and a half minutes and began jogging down the sidewalk, the golden light of the sunrise beginning to warm her skin within minutes.
Against her will, her mind fell back to the unanswered text from the night before. It wasn't that Brick hadn't been slow to reply in the past... In fact, his replies were coming slower and slower lately.
Bonnie couldn't ignore the pang in her chest that time, and she took a deep breath and ran faster. There were plenty of logical reasons her boyfriend might not be answering her texts. He was in college, after all. He had homework...which...he had never really done much of in high school, but the fact that he'd made it through one semester of college so far meant he must be doing at least some now.
She told herself again she was worrying over nothing. He had always been confused about things that were important to her, and to girls in general. He would read her text that day and confirm about the dance, and then she would send him a picture of her gown so he could buy the matching corsages.
The alarm on her stopwatch went off, and she turned around and started jogging back in the direction of home at a faster pace than she'd begun. As she felt the adrenaline pump through her from the run, she got an idea. She didn't need to wait for Brick to reply... She could just send the picture of the dress after she tried it on. That would give him the hint. He had probably just forgotten to reply anyway...
Bonnie finished her run with confidence, and when she returned home she hurried past her siblings in the kitchen, grateful for the loud hip-hop music currently playing in her ears so she wouldn't have to hear anything they might say to her. Though it was unlikely they would.
Her older brother by one year, Jonny, was sitting on the kitchen counter with his dirty sock-clad feet on the refrigerator door, playing some hand-held video game. Her even older sisters, Connie and Lonnie, were seated at the kitchen table leaning over a fashion magazine and a laptop computer, shopping online she assumed. They would curb the behavior when their parents came out for the 'family breakfast' they insisted on each day, before each family member would vanish to their various obligations.
Bonnie wasn't upset about family breakfasts really; ever since her dad bought her a car, she barely saw her family, since each member in turn had previously driven her everywhere she needed to go—her siblings with complaints, of course. Now she was wholly independent, so the breakfasts held more meaning to her.
After returning to her room, she glanced at her phone still on the bed. She thought about her plan to text Brick later after she picked up her dress...which would be in about nine hours.
The pang of worry hit her chest again.
She grabbed the phone along with her bathrobe as she went back down the hall to take a shower. She opened the phone and looked at the text she had sent the prior evening before dinner that remained unanswered.
*You're still free next Saturday for the homecoming dance, right?*
Still breathless from the run and with sweat irritating the center of her back, she started the shower and then scrolled through the prior texts between she and Brick over the past couple of weeks, noting the slow times between his responses compared to her quick ones, and his lack of many words. After a moment of tense indecision, she fired off another quick text.
*I'll send you a photo of my gown after school!*
She set the phone down and grimaced as she started to undress. A lack of words wasn't anything new, and she was stunned as she realized she was telling herself not to worry. Why should she worry? She shouldn't even have let that thought in her head.
She frowned and leaned over the counter, staring at her face in the mirror as it started to become fogged with steam.
"I have nothing to worry about," she reassured herself out loud, and after giving herself a crisp nod, she adjusted the water temperature and made haste to shower.
She thought about Brick's class and football schedules, which...she'd had to badger him for back in the fall. They weren't consistent day to day, and he even had night classes a couple of days a week. These offered plenty of reasons why he might not have replied to her text messages. A college boy was busy.
After another swath of reassuring thoughts she felt her confidence returning. And then just as she switched the shower off, she heard the telltale beep of her phone indicating a message received.
She nearly slipped on the tile as she hurried to the phone, only half-drying her hands before flipping it open. The text was from Brick.
*Call me later.*
Bonnie read the words five times as her heart began to race, and then she mentally shook herself and quickly dried the phone off before drying off herself and putting on her bathrobe.
The text was a positive. He wanted to talk to her. Right...? Usually it was she who called him, and he only answered half of the time anyway... Come to think of it, he never said much over the phone. He just hummed responses to what she said to him.
Bonnie frowned into the fogged-up mirror as she began to blow-dry her hair. She didn't need to read any more into the text than was there. He probably wanted to talk about logistics for the dance.
She let the sound of the blow dryer drown out her thoughts, and as soon as her hair was no longer damp at the roots she unplugged the blow dryer and set the appliance on the counter before snatching up her phone again and storming down the hall back to her bedroom.
When she stepped through the door, she hit her ankle hard on something and tripped, plummeting forward with a gasp. Her phone flew out of her hand and was forgotten as she tucked into a somersault and came out of the fall safely and on her feet. She took hardly a second to catch her breath before whirling around and pushing her hair out of her eyes as she scowled. Her full laundry basket on the floor was the culprit, but her eyes narrowed as she realized it was the load she had put in the night before...and it wasn't clean nor dry.
"Lonnie!" she shouted before even leaving her room, turning the short distance down the hall to her older sister's room. "Why aren't my clothes clean? And why did you put dirty clothes back in my room!?"
She had just reached the door when it opened a sliver, and she could just see her sister's blonde hair and smirk.
"Oh sorry B, forgot to tell you I took your clothes out last night to do mine," Lonnie said, her tone rife with sarcasm. "Needed my intimates done before my date later."
"You could have waited your turn! Why didn't you tell me last night?" Bonnie said through gritted teeth, her hands in fists at her sides as she seethed.
"Mmh, guess it slipped my mind. Sorry, B..." she answered as she pushed the door closed, drawing out the 'sorry' in an all too familiar way.
"Rrrgh!" Bonnie snarled, hitting the closed door with a flat palm before turning on her heel to head back to her room.
"Sheesh, Bonnie, take a chill pill."
Bonnie blinked and saw Jonny leaning against the wall, not looking up from his video game.
"Quiet, nerdlinger!"
"Hmph," was Jonny's only reply, said through a smirk with a shrug.
"I have nothing to wear now!"
"Wow, nothing," he replied flatly, clearly disbelieving and disinterested.
Bonnie took a sharp breath in through her nose and was about to retort when Connie poked her head out of her own doorway.
"Nothing that'll help, anyway," she said with a slight giggle and smirk, giving Bonnie a once-over.
"Connie!"
Her eldest sister disappeared into her bedroom, and the sound of another door closing was her alert that her brother had departed too. Bonnie stood alone in the hallway for a moment, seething and feeling irrationally like she might cry before she shoved the emotion away and stalked back to her room.
Winners didn't cry.
She glanced into the laundry basket, noting all of her favorites wrinkled and wet from half a wash cycle, including her planned outfit for that day. She sighed and stepped to the closet, looking at the variety of things she didn't often choose because they were old, out of style, or weren't appropriate for school for one reason or another.
After several minutes pushing through every item and muttering about things being out of season, she grabbed an old favorite crop top she'd forgotten about and probably hadn't worn since freshman year. After scanning the array of bottoms in her closet and not finding a suitable match, she reached into the far corner and grabbed the old, baggy Club Banana overalls she'd used to wear with that top all the time.
When she got dressed she realized two things quickly: first, that sleeveless purple and teal tie dye racer-back crop top was quite snug, rode up higher than it used to, and showed her bra under her arms; second, that the overalls were also just a touch too small. They hugged her hips and her rear in a way she actually found attractive as she spun in front of the mirror, but the straps weren't fitting entirely over her shoulders and even hurt a little.
She frowned slightly as she unbuckled one strap and let it fall over her back, and the bib ever so slightly forward. It relieved enough pressure from the garment that she felt comfortable in the choice, and after looking at the very obvious sides of her bra showing under her arms, she unhooked the undergarment at the back, pulled off the straps, and then took the garment off through one of the arm holes in the style of Raquel Spring from "Pals." She dropped it in the laundry basket with a frown, determining then and there she would have to get back at Lonnie for potentially ruining her wardrobe.
After another quick spin in the mirror and deciding she looked good enough, Bonnie put on her socks and shoes and hurried back to the bathroom to quickly do her hair and makeup. Her parents would be upset, but she wasn't sure if she'd have time for breakfast anymore. The clothing problem had slowed her down, plus she suddenly remembered some math homework she'd left unfinished the night before in favor of working on memorizing the latest ballet routine.
Her focus fell to the unfinished math word problems—why were word problems so hard?—as she fixed her hair with the blow dryer and a round brush into its usual style, and then hurriedly put on her makeup.
After giving a satisfied nod to her appearance, she hurried back to her bedroom again. She closed her homework into her math book and shoved it in her backpack, knowing she'd have a better chance of getting it done and being on time if she did it after she arrived at school, maybe during her first class. It was with that somewhat shaky resolution that she threw her backpack over her shoulder and then grabbed up the laundry basket and headed down the hall.
She ignored the smirks of her siblings as she strode past them and quickly got the load of laundry started. Her mom didn't have to work for a couple of hours yet...
When she returned to the kitchen, she noted her three older siblings expressions had sobered as they sat dutifully around the table eating their usual breakfast meals, and her parents with them. Bonnie took a deep breath.
"Mom, when my laundry finishes can you put it in the dryer? And hang up the other things?"
Her mother looked up from her dish in confusion.
"I thought you did laundry last night?"
"I started to, but somebody decided theirs was more important," Bonnie said, hands on her hips as she glared at her older sister.
Veronica Rockwaller gave a disapproving frown toward the blonde-haired young woman, who merely shrugged.
"She didn't come back to dry it anyway," Lonnie said.
"I fell asleep doing homework!"
Bonnie's father, who until that point had been invisible behind his newspaper, cleared his throat.
"Bonnie..."
Bonnie groaned and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know I'm supposed to sleep at least seven hours each night. I got them," she assured him. She didn't think it important to add they'd been spent tossing and turning, worrying about Brick. And that the same worry was what kept her from finishing the homework.
She turned to the cupboard and took out a protein bar before spinning around and heading for the front door.
"Bonnie!" her mother sang in a disappointed tone as she walked past. Her father looked up from his paper and coffee again with a raised brow.
"Sorry Mom, sorry Dad, I have just enough time to finish my homework if I leave now," she said by way of excuse.
"But Bon-Bon!"
Bonnie looked from her mother's disappointed face to her father's. Donald 'Donny' Rockwaller lifted his hand in a vague gesture that she could leave, and she grinned and flipped her hair with one hand as she turned to hide her relief.
"Now Ronnie, schoolwork comes first. At least she won't miss dinner," her father said pointedly. "Especially since it'll be the last family dinner before our trip this weekend."
Bonnie froze at the tone in her father's voice and glanced back over her shoulder. He was staring at her over his newspaper.
"Of course not!" she said with a broad, innocent smile. She thought a moment. "...But I do need to pick up my homecoming dress after cheer practice today."
"Oh, I can come with you!" her mother said brightly.
Bonnie's smile faded to a panicked frown and she started waving her hand in a stopping motion. But her attention shifted suddenly as her sisters spoke.
"You mean they found a dress to actually fit that shape?" Connie said.
"Clearly nothing else does," Lonnie said, giving a disgusted look at Bonnie's current attire.
"Ladies," their father admonished, and Bonnie turned to leave in a hurry amid her mother's scolding of her older sisters and her brother's snickering. She wasn't about to let her mother come along to the dress fitting, or anywhere else where they could be seen together by people she knew—not since the ski trip incident.
In the driveway, she dropped her backpack on the passenger seat of her white convertible and sighed as she sank into the tan leather driver's seat. After tuning the radio to her favorite hip-hop station and cranking the volume, she began the drive to school, letting the sound of the wind and the music carry her thoughts away.
----------------------
When Bonnie walked through the halls of the school and saw Kim Possible standing in front of her open locker, she actually perked up. She needed to talk to Kim about the complexity of the final sequence in the new cheer routine before practice. She began quickening her pace, but stopped short when Kim's locker was pushed closed by a confidently grinning Ron Stoppable, dressed uncharacteristically in his football jersey.
Bonnie stopped and took a step nearer the other wall of lockers as if it could hide her while the...the loser of a held-back senior Kim now called 'boyfriend' leaned over the red-head at her locker and set his hand on her waist, kissing her in a very suave move. Bonnie blinked at the scene in shock, feeling a sinking in her stomach and an actual camaraderie with Stoppable's hairless pet which was scrubbing at its eyes from the football star's pocket.
'Football star...'
"Whoa, put out the fire you two!" was the declaration of Kim's other best friend, Monique, who Bonnie could find no fault with except for choosing the other two as companions. The girl was confident, trendy, smart, and someone she could have called 'friend' herself. But apparently Kim had gotten to her first.
Bonnie passed the trio without a word as they began chatting and hurried to what was their joint homeroom. She needed to finish that math homework and would need a seat in the back if she was to avoid Mr. Barkin's watchful gaze. And the last thing she wanted right then was to hear about how great life was the world-famous world-saving cheerleader.
She remembered Brick's text and reached in her pocket for her phone, and then froze.
It wasn't there.
She remembered with a fury that she had dropped it earlier that morning when she tripped on the laundry basket, and she mentally swore further revenge against all of her siblings for the crime. They deserved it for the years of tormenting her anyway.
She dropped her math book heavily on the too-small desk and leaned over the homework paper, one hand on her forehead to hide her face as she stared down at the problems in the book.
She stared at the words and numbers while her classmates gradually filed in and took their seats around her. She barely acknowledged Tara's cheery 'good morning' as she read over the first word problem again and again, unable to focus long enough to finish it, and she tuned out the tardy bell and Mr. Barkin's gruff greeting to the class.
All she could think about was Brick's text. She couldn't remember another time he had asked her to call. In fact, their phone conversations usually ended with him interrupting whatever she was talking about and asking if he could call her back another time...which...he never did.
A telltale buzzing made her reach instinctively for her phone, and she frowned when it wasn't there. She glanced over at Tara in the next desk, who was grinning down at her phone in her lap.
Tara saw her friend's attention and after a moment and a glance at Mr. Barkin who was writing on the chalkboard, she passed the cell phone to Bonnie.
Bonnie smirked as she saw it was an update to Stoppable's blog, and she glanced to where the blond-haired boy sat next to Kim in the front row. He had his phone in his lap, and he seemed to be typing blindly with one thumb while his hairless pink pet typed at the same time. She frowned and shook her head in confusion as she looked back to Tara's phone for the latest gossip.
*A reliable source has reported that Dr. Drakken and Shego have been looking at real estate in Tahiti. Is it a new lair, or a romantic vacation home?*
Bonnie rolled her eyes and passed the phone back to Tara. While that pair of villains were among the most interesting, she was tired of the 'are they or aren't they?' that Stoppable kept spinning to keep interest in the blog.
"Well?" whispered Tara, and Bonnie looked at her while keeping one eye on Mr. Barkin. "What do you think?"
"I don't think it matters where they do it?" Bonnie whispered back.
"They're totally a couple!" Tara said with a small giggle, scrolling through the other posts on the blog.
Bonnie shook her head and looked down at her math book again, feeling like she might be able to focus at last. As she finally began writing figures on the paper to solve the first word problem, she realized she'd wasted most of homeroom and hadn't heard even a word of Mr. Barkin's lecture. She tried to tune into it as she wrote, ignoring the giggles off to her right and the grin of her cheer co-captain a few rows ahead.
It was bad enough she had to watch Kim and Ron making out in the hallway. The last thing she needed was to think about happy villain couples too, when she couldn't hardly remember the last time she'd had Brick's arm around her.
----------------------
"And five, six, seven, eight and aerial...three...down...V...and left, right, left, right and to-the-base!" Kim called out the beats of the cheer routine, watching with arms crossed in front of the bleachers.
Bonnie, up in front and with the mirrored role to Kim's, had the most difficult steps and was trying to complete her moves while also listening to Kim's commands to the rest of the squad for her timing. It was going well, exactly like she'd practiced in her bedroom the night before. They had collaborated on this routine and were sure it could win the next competition, but of course, they all had to start somewhere in learning it.
As she felt sweat beginning to form on her brow she remembered the competition last year, when Brick had sat in the front row cheering her on. She'd gotten a major thrill bragging about him to the girls from other squads, who had all been envious of her gorgeous, all-American boyfriend.
"And liberty...to scorpion... Bonnie!"
Bonnie felt the weight shift from Tara below who was her base, and realized she'd failed to shift into the scorpion pose. Which meant when Hope next to her, standing in for Kim, had nowhere to place her foot for the next move when their feet were supposed to touch. She watched in a mixture of annoyance, fear, and embarrassment as Hope went down despite Crystal's efforts, and she quickly lost balance too, landing in a forward lunge when her feet finally hit the gym floor.
When she righted herself she found every member of the squad staring at her. It wasn't often she found herself in this position, as it was usually her leading the glares toward Kim who was often distracted by her 'missions' and more recently, her steady boyfriend.
The heat came to Bonnie's cheeks and she crossed her arms and turned away with a frown.
"I didn't have the balance for scorpion, it would have been worse if I'd tried," she said by way of excuse.
"Maybe if you'd lose a few pounds," Tanzy said not entirely under her breath, earning a few gasps from the long-time members of the squad.
"Why, you—!"
"O-kay," Kim said with authority. "Bonnie, let's swap. You call the routine and I'll hop in."
Bonnie was torn in that moment between arguing that she wouldn't mess up again and taking the pass and actually watching the routine as she called it. She wanted to watch it again anyway, but she was uncertain in the moment which was the less embarrassing of the two options.
As Kim raised a questioning and slightly impatient brow in her direction, she rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Fine, get up there."
Bonnie watched as Hope and Jessica swapped places, Jessica being Bonnie's stand-in as Hope was Kim's. Then when everyone was back in place in the starting positions, she began calling the counts and moves.
She was glad she'd made that choice, because she had no choice but to focus and for at least the rest of practice, Brick didn't enter her mind at all. Not even when they had played the music and she and Kim had both operated in their regular positions. She hated to admit it, but they were a good team as co-captains.
It wasn't until later after showering in the locker room and waiting for Tara to finish fixing her hair that Bonnie began to dwell on the situation with Brick again. She was also worried that he might have sent her another message while her phone was at home, somewhere on her bedroom floor. What if he had tried to call, and her lack of response made him think she was ignoring him? What if he'd wanted her to call right after school, or after cheer practice?
"What's wrong, Bonnie?"
Bonnie startled from her thoughts and realized her brow had been twisted in so much worry, that it hurt. She uncrossed her arms and pushed off of the wall in the girl's locker room where she'd been leaning.
"Nothing, you ready to go?" she asked Tara, who was fluffing her golden, wavy hair.
"You bet! I can't wait to see your gown! And guess what, the boutique left me a voicemail during practice. Mine came in today too!"
"Yeah that's great. I need to run home first, that all right?"
"Oh...sure, what for?" Tara asked, hurrying behind Bonnie who had slung her backpack on her back and started out of the locker room.
"For my phone," Bonnie answered somewhat impatiently.
"Ohhh right... Do you think Brick might have messaged you?"
Bonnie felt that pang in her chest again and increased her pace. She had confided to Tara about her missing phone, but hadn't fully admitted her fears that Brick was losing interest in her.
"Maybe. He usually waits for me to reply, unless he's asking for homework help."
Tara continued talking, but Bonnie barely listened until they reached her convertible in the parking lot. They tossed their backpacks in the trunk and then Bonnie sat heavily in the driver's seat with a sigh. The fall earlier during practice, though she had landed fine, had definitely been a shock to her system.
"Bonnie?"
"Hmm?"
"I said, do you think the hot pink will be too much?"
"I've been telling you for years to let go of the green."
"Well it's a kind of a—"
"Never-mind, I'll see it when we get there," Bonnie said as she started the car.
She stared straight ahead, ignoring the concerned and confused look she knew Tara was giving her. She grabbed her sunglasses off the car's sun visor and hid her eyes behind them.
She couldn't focus on the conversation about gowns with the possibility of a missed call from Brick swirling around in her head. Not to mention the sudden increased concern that her gown wouldn't fit after Tanzy's comment at practice.
Back in the locker room she had direly wanted to ask Kim if she had gained weight, knowing the red-head would be honest, but she hadn't. Now she wanted to ask Tara, but she wasn't sure if her friend wouldn't sugar-coat the answer just to please her.
Bonnie flipped the radio station to pop, Tara's favorite, and gave her a half-smile that seemed to assuage any concerns her friend may have had. She turned the music up higher to avoid any possibility of conversation and drove the familiar route back home, unable to deny the anxiety now coursing through her as the promise of getting to her phone was near.
----------------------
Bonnie parked her car near the house after driving perhaps too quickly up her family's long driveway, if Tara's slightly startled expression was any indication. She kept her sunglasses on to hide her slightly guilty expression as she grabbed her backpack from the trunk and hurried up the steps.
"If my sibs aren't around you can help yourself to anything in the fridge," Bonnie called over her shoulder as Tara hurried behind her.
She didn't feel like stopping at Bueno Nacho or anywhere else on the way to the boutique, but it had definitely been too long since lunch.
The house, gratefully, seemed empty when they went inside, and Bonnie nodded toward the fridge before heading down the hall to her room. It was just a quick stop for her phone and a snack before they would head back to try on their gowns.
In her room, Bonnie took her planner and the books for that night's homework out of her backpack and placed them on her desk, knowing she might forget otherwise after ballet later that night. She glanced at her watch as she dropped her backpack and began calculating how much time she would have, and then frowned. There was really only time to try on the dresses, make the final payment if they fit, and then drive Tara home. Then she would barely make it home through rush hour traffic in time for the family dinner, and then she would have to hurry off to ballet.
She wouldn't be able to start her homework until after eight thirty that night. Or call Brick.
A quick search of the room revealed her phone on the floor near the barre, and she flipped it open to find six missed text messages. Two were from Tara that morning, the second of which asking why she wasn't answering texts. Bonnie rolled her eyes.
She cringed at the text from Kim asking why she was late for practice, and it was with dismay she saw that the other three were from Liz, Crystal, and Hope. Brick hadn't sent any other messages, and there were no missed calls.
Bonnie put the phone in the hip pocket of her overalls, frowning at the discomfort it gave her since the older garment was slightly too snug.
'Or maybe you've just put on a few pounds...'
She shook that thought from her head as she fished in her backpack for her wallet. She glanced at the math book at the top of the pile of homework on her desk and frowned at the memory of turning in an incomplete paper earlier that day, and then she looked up at the mirror. Her hair was more limp for the rigor of cheer practice, but there wasn't time to do anything with it.
Bonnie chose a teal purse from the several she had hanging behind her door and shouldered it after putting her phone and wallet inside. She hurried back to the kitchen where she found Tara eating a pudding cup.
"Those are Jonny's," Bonnie commented, knowing her brother would be upset. Not that she cared... She just knew she would probably take the heat for it.
"Oh, sorry," Tara said with a small giggle as she licked the butterscotch from her lips.
Bonnie opened the fridge and after a sad perusal, she grabbed one of her brother's pudding cups too. She plopped down on the bar stool next to Tara and opened the cup, staring blankly at the cabinets opposite as she dug her spoon in.
"...Did Brick call?" Tara asked after a moment of silence.
"No," Bonnie said, then spooning a larger bite into her mouth. While she could no longer ignore the growing concern that Brick was losing interest in her, she still didn't want to talk about it. Because if Brick was in fact losing interest...she didn't want to think forward to what would come after that conversation.
"Ryan left me a message during practice," Tara commented.
Bonnie nodded approvingly as she licked her spoon.
"Status."
"But he was always trying to cop a feel," Tara continued with a frown.
Bonnie smirked. "And you care?"
Tara's frown deepened.
"Right, I get it. You're waiting for 'love'," Bonnie said, drawing out the last word sarcastically.
"So are you," Tara retorted, "unless something's changed?"
"Nothing's changed," Bonnie said, glancing back at the cabinets and letting her vision blur as she took another bite.
"Look, I like making out but Ryan just doesn't understand where the line is," Tara said thoughtfully.
Bonnie silently ate her pudding as she thought about her physical relationship with Brick. He was a good kisser, and she always felt a sense of pride curled up under his arm, whether they were at the movies or at a party after a game. He'd never given her any indications he wanted more, so they'd never talked about it. But what if...that was part of why he was losing interest now? Had he met someone else who gave him more?
Bonnie considered their on-again, off-again relationship over the past three and a half years. It was always she who had broken up with him when they were 'off,' due to his lack of attention or some rude comment he had made. She'd always just assumed he would be there when she had cooled down, and he was. Even the time he'd seemed interested in Kim during sophomore year, she hadn't worried, because she knew he wasn't Kim's type.
'Her loss!'
As she thought about it further, she realized that the last few times they'd broken up...she couldn't remember Brick protesting. Or even seeming that upset. Or...happy when she'd declared they were back together.
The pang in her chest turned to a swirling unease in her stomach, and she glanced to the side to see that Tara had just finished her pudding. She grabbed the small plastic cup and spoon out her hands, earning a surprised squeak, and carried them and her own unfinished pudding around to the sink where she dropped the spoons in and then tossed the pudding cups in the trash.
"Come on," Bonnie said abruptly, shifting her purse to her other shoulder. It had been on the one with the overall strap, and she realized the garment was a bit uncomfortable over her shoulder after all.
"What'd I say?" Tara questioned. "Look, I'm over that Ryan is a celebrity... Jason's never tried to push the boundaries, and that matters more to me."
"Fine, whatever," Bonnie said as she headed back out the door. "Long as he's got the cash."
"We go out," Tara defended her own on-and-off boyfriend.
"To places other than Bueno Nacho?" Bonnie accused as they got back into the car.
"Yes," Tara said emphatically, sounding almost hurt. "And he even told me he'll take me to Chez Couteaux before homecoming."
"How do you know he's not gonna turn out like Ryan did?" Bonnie retorted as she started the car.
"Bonnie!"
"Just saying," Bonnie responded with a shrug and a frown.
She turned the music back on as she backed the car out of the driveway. The conversation had only increased her worries about Brick to the point she didn't even bother denying them anymore. What if that was the reason he was distant from her? What if he had in fact found someone else who was more the kind of girl he wanted?
What...what was the kind of girl Brick wanted? Bonnie felt the uneasy feeling in her stomach intensify as she suddenly worried that she wasn't it...
----------------------
"I've been telling you for years Tara, jewel tones," Bonnie said, watching Tara look uncertainly at the gown she wore that in Bonnie's opinion was a dream come true.
Tara's choice that year was a dark hot pink strapless mermaid gown, satin until the mermaid flare at the bottom where the material was tulle. The bust was covered in tiny rhinestones that faded away down the bodice, which Bonnie thought were a great compliment to her figure.
"Are you sure?"
"Sometimes your favorite colors just aren't ones you can wear," Bonnie said, leaning back on the bench and crossing her legs again. "With your hair, eyes, and complexion... Jewel tones, Tara."
Tara's expression brightened at Bonnie's reassurance, though her brow still showed uncertainty.
"Look, it's perfect. Just take it off and I'll put mine on," Bonnie said, rising from the bench and moving into the adjacent fitting room. She quickly divested herself of her shoes, overalls, and tank top and then carefully removed her gown from its hanger.
As she stepped into the dress and slipped the straps up over her shoulders, she felt a comfortable, familiar confidence settle over her that she'd lacked that day—the confidence of looking good.
She zipped up the black dress and adjusted the raspberry colored chiffon sash at the waist which folded and had a panel that draped down the front nearly to the floor. The dress had two high slits up each side and a deep V-neck, with straps that thinned over the shoulders. She smiled as she mentally pictured the way it would look with her hair and makeup done to perfection, and black heels to match. Ruby earrings would complete the look...
She straightened up in front of the fitting room mirror as a vision entered her mind of Brick standing at her side wearing a black tuxedo, with a cummerbund and bow-tie to match her sash. They would have to be dyed of course, along with roses for the corsages, but there was still plenty of time.
The excitement that had bubbled up in her chest at how great she and Brick would look walking into the homecoming dance together burst suddenly as all of her insecurities about their relationship suddenly came back. She felt in her purse for her phone and after pulling it out flipped it open. There had been no messages or missed calls in the time she and Tara and been out so far.
She turned to face the mirror again, posed and grinned, and then moved her phone around in one hand trying to get the best angle and also capture the entire dress. It took three tries, but she finally got an image she was okay with and sent it in a message to Brick.
*Match everything to the sash.*
As she looked at the image once more before pushing send she felt her confidence returning. She was the hottest girl at Middleton High, and Brick had never looked at anyone else in the almost three years they had been together. She had nothing to worry about.
She sent the text, put her phone back in her purse, and then exited the fitting room. Tara was dressed in her school clothes again and seated on the bench Bonnie had previously occupied, her folded hands atop the knee of her crossed leg which she was swinging as she smiled and waited patiently. When she focused her attention on Bonnie, her mouth fell open in a gasp.
"Oh, Bonnie that's gorgeous!"
"I know. Doesn't it just scream 'me'?" she said with a grin, slowly spinning and then striking a pose.
"It's perfect!"
"Like I said. Me."
Just then, a wolf-whistle startled them and drew both of their attentions to where about ten feet away a vaguely familiar red-headed teen boy stood. Bonnie realized in a moment it was one of their classmates, but she wasn't entirely sure of his name. She couldn't recall ever actually speaking to him.
"Smokin'!" he said, giving her a thumbs up and a grin that revealed less than perfect teeth.
Bonnie recoiled in mild disgust, though she couldn't argue with the compliment.
"Yeah, way too hot for you," Bonnie said in retort. She meant it derisively, but the look Tara gave her made her wonder if it had accidentally come off as flirty.
The guy continued looking her over without any pretense, and Bonnie racked her brain for his name. All she could really recall about him was that his tired, baggy eyes were always staring at a computer screen and that he had never once been in gym class.
"So, got a date for the homecoming dance?" he asked, his look becoming practically lascivious.
The boy's name finally registered in Bonnie's mind.
"Uh, yeah. And if you come with twenty feet of me at the dance Reiger, I'll tell my boyfriend Brick that you asked me out."
Ronald Reiger seemed to snap out of his hormone-motivated stupor, but it didn't last long as a devious smirk returned to his face.
"I didn't think Flagg liked his babes with so much junk in the trunk. But I sure do," Reiger said, wagging his eyebrows knowingly.
Bonnie sputtered incoherently for a moment before a shrill scream left her throat. Every face in the boutique suddenly turned to look at her, and Bonnie's face reddened in both anger and embarrassment as Reiger left the store laughing.
Bonnie's hands were clenched in fists at her sides as she seethed, the conversation already replaying in her mind. So focused was she on the horrible things Reiger had said, that she didn't notice Tara had been speaking to her until she felt her friend's hand on her shoulder.
"He never even goes to the dances. Just ignore him."
Bonnie took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but she still felt the sting of embarrassment as multiple eyes continued to watch her.
"Tara," she began, not liking how pathetic her voice sounded, "have I gained weight?"
"No! If anything you're slimmer," Tara said, her usual happy-go-lucky smile back on her face.
"Really?" Bonnie asked, starting to straighten up from the hunch she'd not realized she'd fallen into.
"Oh yeah. You look great! Especially in the varsity cheer uniform. You rock it!"
Bonnie looked straight into Tara's eyes and saw the sincerity; she wasn't just trying to butter her up.
She pushed her hair back and fought the twisting of emotions in her chest, glancing away when she finally said a quiet, "Thanks."
"Besides, Reiger's been crushing on you since middle school," Tara continued thoughtfully, "but I've never seen him with anyone. He's probably got his own issues."
Bonnie looked up in surprise. "Since middle school!?"
Tara looked confused. "Yeah. I thought you knew."
"Ew! No, that's the first time I've ever acknowledged that loser's existence!"
Tara looked confused again. "Don't you remember he asked you to dance in seventh grade, at the welcome back dance?"
Bonnie blinked at her. "I thought you said he never goes to dances."
"Not since that one. He asked you to dance and you said no."
Bonnie searched her memory, but all she could recall of that first dance in seventh grade was how hot she had looked in her black and white leopard print skirt and hot pink blouse with the matching collar.
"Ugh, let's just pay for the gowns and get out of here before some other loser shows up."
"Hey," Tara said, and Bonnie felt a hand on her shoulder again, "this was fun. We barely hang out anymore. I'm glad we could fit this in."
"Yeah," Bonnie said with a quick smile before hurrying back into her fitting room.
As she changed back into her crop top and overalls she thought about Tara's words. It was true, they hadn't been hanging out as much since Tara had finally given up on that loser Stoppable part-way through junior year. Once she had stopped pining over him she found she enjoyed dating around, which meant less time for friends. And of course, varsity cheer took up more of both of their free time. They hardly saw each other outside of school activities anymore.
Bonnie considered the things in her own life that were keeping her busy. Ballet was four nights a week now that she was in the highest level, and for the past month she had spent all of her free time...worrying about Brick's diminishing communication. They had only been out on a date once in the last three weeks, but she realized she had been purposely keeping her evenings free just in case he wanted to see her. He was only going to the University of Lowerton after all, so it wasn't that far a drive.
But he hadn't mentioned going out once since their last date. He only responded to her messages, and barely at that...
Bonnie scowled as her mood soured again, but she didn't let it impact her carefully hanging the gown back on its hanger. The boost she had gotten from trying it on had already faded, and she was eager to get home so she could hopefully have a chance to call Brick in between dinner and ballet. A glance at her phone showed he hadn't replied to her message with the photo of the dress.
The overall strap on her shoulder was suddenly bothering her, and after a very brief moment she unhooked it and let the bib fall fully down and the strap down her back, a moment later looping both straps through the belt loops on the garment so they wouldn't flop too much. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror she reconsidered the decision for a moment, noting just how much of her midriff was showing due to the high crop top and how low the overalls fell. But she shook her head and shouldered her purse and turned away from her reflection. Because despite herself, she couldn't even distract herself thinking about Tara's compliment because she was no longer able to hide the worry in her eyes.
----------------------
Bonnie shut off the car and then sank low into the leather seat, exhausted as she stared at the reflection of the golden sunset off her dash. She ran her mind back over the day's events, each recollection interrupted by the harsh, stabbing worry about Brick's text.
She felt a small measure of calm as she remembered how Tara had leaned down into the car to hug her when she had dropped her off at her home. Her friend had thanked her for a fun afternoon and promised to see her the next day with her usual bright smile and wave as she left.
Why couldn't Brick be more like Tara? Bonnie never had to worry that Tara wouldn't answer a text, or be less than honest about their friendship. If Tara was upset about something, Bonnie knew it in a moment from the look on her friend's face.
She also realized with sudden guilt, which she quickly shoved down, that she wasn't always quick to make amends when she and Tara got into disagreements. And yet, Tara...was still there.
She forced away the strange swirl of emotions in her chest and turned her thoughts to Brick again. Had she done something to upset him, and that's why he was distant? He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and he had always been extremely easy-going in high school. It was one of the things she liked about him actually... He did whatever she wanted, and she got to show off her man candy wherever she went.
She startled suddenly, her eyes seeking something to focus on as too many realizations hit her all at once. Could Brick be avoiding her because she only treated him like a tool? And...since when did she no longer want that with him, and want to be treated like an actual girlfriend?
Her mind was racing for answers, and when she looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror she saw the truth in her own eyes. She had wanted more for a long time, but hadn't been giving Brick anything to let him know that.
Another strange mix of emotions hit her as she fought against the revelation she had just had. She didn't need a relationship. She didn't need to give and take, or to care about someone else's needs. Winners didn't need other people, after all.
Even as her head spoke the defiant thoughts, an image of Tara's smile and the memory of her hug before they parted that evening flew across her mind's eye. She sighed and slumped back in the seat again.
Who was she kidding?
She grimaced as she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Brick had said to call her... It was time to put herself out of her misery and stop living in a high school fantasy. If she really did...want more...she would have to give more.
She pressed the speed dial with an ironic grimace and held the phone to her ear. It connected after four rings.
"Hello?" He sounded confused, which made her stomach twist in unease.
"Hey Brick, baby," she greeted with a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"Oh, hey," was the response in his usual smooth tone, but it was lacking the smile behind it.
"Did you get the photo of my gown?" she asked, avoiding any more difficult topic for the moment.
"Yeah, it's smokin'!" he said, and Bonnie felt some of the unease leave as she heard the smile in his voice. She also recalled that Ron Reiger had used that exact term to describe the dress, and her face fell.
"Do you need me to send you the address of the boutique to get your cummerbund and bow-tie dyed?" she continued in a hurry.
"Yeah about that..."
Bonnie felt her throat constrict and immediately tried to calm her breathing. Before she could speak, Brick continued.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore."
Bonnie's chest heaved as her breaths came more quickly.
"What... You...you...are breaking up with me?" Bonnie sputtered. They weren't the words she wanted to say, but they were the ones that came out.
"Yeah... So no hard feelings," Brick said. It sounded final, and Bonnie gripped her phone hard as she leaned forward in a panic.
"Wait! Can...can we talk about this?" she stammered.
"Talk...?" Brick sounded confused by the suggestion.
"Yeah, like...like...why?"
"Oh, well... I feel like since I went to college we've...grown apart?" Brick answered, still sounding confused. "And like...we didn't really know each other that well anyway."
"What do you mean?" Bonnie gasped, her instincts taking over again. "We talked almost every day for three years, we went out all the time, I even hung out at your house with your lame-o family!" Bonnie cringed at the instinctive insult she'd given and hurriedly backpedaled. "I mean..."
"Yeah, and like...that's just it," Brick continued in the voice she knew so well, sounding much more himself. "We did all those things and I don't...really know you."
Bonnie blinked several times, fighting the onset of tears. Her mind was a jumble of searching for excuses and counter-arguments, as well as the distracting interruptions of how she basically been treating Tara exactly the same way she had treated Brick.
"Well...then let's get to know each other," she finally said. She looked in the rear-view mirror at her stricken expression, and then her eyes fell to the reflection of the short crop top she was wearing. "And like...if you come over Saturday, my parents won't be home all weekend."
She had lowered her tone on the last, hoping to sound seductive. Her heart raced for fear with the implication she had just given him. That wasn't what she really wanted, but she was desperate.
"No thanks... It's just not gonna work between us. I'm sorry, but...it's over."
Bonnie clutched the phone tighter, breathing into the receiver as no words came while tears filled her eyes. A moment later the line disconnected, and she let a sob escape her lips as she listened to the dead air at the other end of the line.
She closed the phone and dropped it back in her purse, then wiping the tears from her eyes.
'Winners don't cry, winners don't cry...'
She tried desperately to force the tears away, but as she replayed the conversation with Brick in her mind they kept coming. She turned her gaze upward as she grabbed a tissue from the box in her center console, but she didn't dry her eyes yet.
The resounding finality of Brick's statement, 'it's over,' kept looping in her mind and causing a torment of indecision. There was a part of her that wanted to call him back and fight to keep him. She even wondered if driving to Lowerton for a salacious meeting would change his mind after all.
That idea made her heart pound in anxiety, and she recalled her earlier conversation with Tara. It wasn't what she wanted... But...she still wanted Brick.
She dried her eyes, and on that thought she shouldered her purse, and then carefully took her plastic-wrapped homecoming gown out of the trunk of the car. The sudden realization that she had no date for the dance started the tears anew, but she didn't stop and headed for the house.
'Winners don't quit...'
When she walked inside, the telltale sounds of quiet conversation told her that her family had already started dinner. She wiped her eyes once more with her free hand and held the gown up so that when she passed through the kitchen it would detract attention from her.
"Bonnie..." was the disappointed greeting from her mother when she turned the corner. Bonnie held the gown up higher.
"Sorry, I had to take Tara home. Her gown came in too."
"Ugh, why do you hang out with such fashion rejects..." Lonnie said.
Bonnie didn't even make eye contact. "For your information she got a hot pink dress this time. And even if she does need a little help with fashion, at least she's a real friend."
"Since when do you have real friends?" Connie said with a giggle.
"Girls," their father admonished.
"Bon-Bon, what are you wearing?" her mother asked, noticing her attire despite the gown she was holding up to block their view.
Jonny leaned forward on his elbows with a smirk and raised his eyebrows, and the three sisters glared at him.
"Gross!" they all said in unison.
"Just looking to see if she actually grew a pair or if it's still just socks," Jonny said.
"Like you've ever seen real ones," Lonnie countered.
"Right back at ya, Sis'," Jonny snickered.
"Ugh!"
"Like you've ever seen more than two brain cells," Connie continued the argument.
"Bonnie, surely you had something you could have worn a bra with..." her mother continued over the adult children's argument.
"I had the overall bib up all day," Bonnie said with a slight scoff, and then added in a mutter, "well, half of it."
Her slight embarrassment and annoyance with her family was overriding the hurt of losing Brick, for at least the present moment, and she hurried down the hall to her room to hang up her gown. After she had done so she leaned on her desk with a heavy sigh, staring down at the mountain of homework.
She looked up at herself in the mirror. Her face wasn't as puffy as she feared, and she hurried down the hall to the bathroom to wash off the tear stains. She made the mistake of replaying the conversation with Brick in her head again as she did so, and her tears flowed again. She permitted herself a few whimpering sobs this time, in hopes that doing so would help purge some of the emotional turmoil and let her get on with the evening.
A harsh knock at the door startled her, and she hurriedly splashed more water onto her face and added some soap to clean off her ruined makeup. She'd gone to ballet without it before, though she hadn't in awhile.
"Just a minute!" she called more loudly than was necessary.
"Take a chill pill, Bonnie," came her brother's mocking voice.
Bonnie felt a renewed embarrassment and annoyance about his earlier comments and scowled as she turned off the faucet and dried her face.
"There are other toilets in this house where you can sit and play video games, you know," she retorted.
"Yeah but I'll be bothered in those," he said matter-of-factly.
Bonnie checked her face again and after hanging the towel she opened the door with a sharp jerk.
"Whoa, fan the flame, Bon-Bon!"
"Don't call me that," she bit back as she stalked past him and back down the hall.
She listened to his snickering and the closing of the door as he escaped the family dinner for at least awhile, and she began changing for ballet. As she did so she told herself she wasn't going to think about Brick anymore. She could easily get a hot date for homecoming, and she could start work on that the very next day. All she needed to worry about for the rest of that night was dinner, ballet, and homework, in that order.
She forced her mind to think about the difficult routine she was going to need to rehearse that evening as she put on her pink tights, black leotard, and ballet slippers. After that she stood in front of the mirror, already feeling more composed for how elegant she looked in the attire that spoke of over a decade of hard work. The word 'regal' even crossed her mind as she pulled her hair up into a French twist.
She considered going back to dinner in just her ballet outfit, but considering Jonny's comments she threw on a baggy teal Club Banana logo t-shirt over her leotard. And then after checking that her pointe shoes were in her ballet bag, she dropped her purse inside and zipped the bag up and headed back out to face her family.
"Bonnie, you missed almost all of dinner," was her mother's sad greeting when she re-entered the kitchen.
Bonnie dropped her bag behind her chair and then grabbed a plate to serve herself some food.
"It was a busy day," she said, again more harshly than was warranted. She swallowed guiltily when her father looked at her over the rims of his glasses.
"Connie was just telling us about the seismology research project she's working on in college," her father said as he cleared his throat.
"Yeah," Lonnie interrupted, "and if we keep listening to it we're not going to have time to talk about my date tonight."
Bonnie noticed her bottle-blonde sister's attire for the first time—a too-tight strapless periwinkle mini-dress, with a sparkling crystal necklace and earrings to match. Her makeup was also overdone, which wasn't atypical.
"So who's this one?" Bonnie asked boredly, moving her spoon through the pasta salad as she sat at the table with her family.
As Lonnie described her 'hot date' who worked for a modeling agency, Bonnie's thoughts instantly drifted to her lack of a date for the homecoming dance, and then beyond. She considered her sister who dated anyone who might be able to give her a jump-start into a film or modeling career. Lonnie didn't seem interested in a serious relationship...
Bonnie realized all of a sudden that she herself was. She couldn't do what her sister did. And while she didn't yet know what she wanted to do after high school (another worrying thought that she would bury until she had no choice) she knew she didn't want to date guy after guy... She had never really enjoyed that. Which meant that apparently...she wanted something steady.
"Bonnie?"
She re-focused as she realized she was being spoken to—it was her turn to share about her day.
"Well I got my gown, not that anyone noticed," she began.
"It's lovely, dear," her mother said.
Bonnie tried not to frown at the aged-sounding appellation.
"Thank you, Mom," she said, tossing a glare at her sisters. "We also made a lot of progress on the cheer routine for regionals. It's too fussy, like all of Kim's routines, but I've got to admit...it'll be pretty cool when we've got it down."
"Have you given us that date for our calendars, Bonnie?" her father asked without looking up from his meal.
"Yes. And the ballet. And the homecoming game, and the dance so you don't schedule anything over it."
"Will Brick be taking you to the dance?"
Bonnie felt her entire frame tense, but she forced her face to calm and took a swallow of her food to both give herself a moment to compose herself and to force down the lump rising in her throat.
"No, he's busy," she lied easily. "Besides, I'll be voted homecoming queen so I should go with whoever is voted king."
"You? Queen?" Connie said, and she and Lonnie began to snicker. The sound of Jonny's deeper voice joining theirs was the family's cue that he had returned from his 'bathroom break' and Bonnie glared at all of her siblings in turn as her brother retook his seat.
"Well of course it will be me. Who else could it be?" Bonnie asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms indignantly.
"Probably that red-haired babe you can't get along with, what's her name?" Jonny asked.
"Ugh, that fashion don't dating the biggest loser in the school? As if!"
"Check the facts, Bonnie, she's a world-famous hero and she was on the cover of every fashion magazine that mattered two years ago," Connie said.
"Yeah. Don't you remember when we all wore Kim-style?" Lonnie added.
Bonnie scowled and let her frustration out in a growl. "That was before she had a loser boyfriend, though."
"Are people treating her any differently?" her father cut in.
Bonnie blinked as she considered. People had always liked Kim Possible, ever since middle school when they had met. And that had never changed. Kim wasn't part of the 'in-crowd' or any crowd really, but everyone still liked her and she was—Bonnie mentally groaned—friendly to everyone. And nothing at all had changed since she'd started dating her long-time dweeb of a best friend.
"No," Bonnie admitted.
"Probably gonna be her then," Jonny said, between two large bites. "She's a babe."
Bonnie's face felt hot in a mixture of embarrassment and rage as she saw her sisters nodding in agreement, but she said nothing. To argue would only reveal a weakness on her part.
"Whatever. I'm going to ballet," Bonnie said, dropping her spoon and reaching behind her for her bag.
"But Bon-Bon, you just got home," her mother protested.
"Yeah, and the performance is in two weeks! I want the extra warm up time. I'll see you later," she said over her shoulder as she departed.
She tuned out the continued protests and snippy comments from her siblings as she left the house and hurried down the dimly lit sidewalk to her car. The sun had set and the air had begun to cool, but it had a different feel than that of the morning chill. The morning had felt fresh, almost hopeful, and like she could take on the world. This chill was a descending weight, and felt like it would sap every last ounce of her strength.
Bonnie put up the roof of her convertible as suddenly every conversation she'd had that day began playing through her mind. And try as she might, she wasn't able to stop them.
The blaring of the radio on her drive to the theater couldn't stop them, nor could attempting to distract herself thinking about the challenging steps she would need to complete in the rehearsal that night. Instead, she heard a chaotic chorus of voices that seemed bent on the goal of severing every last thread of what made her...Bonnie.
----------------------
The voices continued throughout her warm-up stretches, and through the initial routine that Mlle. Catriona had the dancers perform in the warm-up room. Bonnie uncharacteristically stood in the back, t-shirt on as she moved mechanically through the familiar steps.
"You mean they actually found a dress to fit that shape?"
"Maybe if you'd lose a few pounds."
"I didn't think Flagg liked his babes with so much junk in the trunk."
Bonnie barely heard the accompaniment of the bright piano rhythms, so loud were the day's memories. Was she actually gaining weight? Was that why Brick had really lost interest in her?
"If anything, you're slimmer."
The recollection of Tara's words didn't do much to calm her fear that she might in fact be heavier. She looked at her distant reflection in the mirror from the back row of dancers, and then started to look around at her peers. She was definitely more shapely than the rest, but...she wasn't overweight; she was just the atypical curvy ballerina, in comparison. Still...she was suddenly glad she'd kept her t-shirt on.
Bonnie focused on Tara's encouragement and let that carry her through the rest of the warm-up until the class moved to the main stage to begin rehearsal of scenes for the upcoming performance of Swan Lake. An unusual self-consciousness hit her as she pulled off her t-shirt after tying on her pointe shoes, but she shook it off and held her head high. She had earned the principal role in the ballet and clearly, her weight wasn't an issue to her teacher or the director.
Across the stage, Matteo, who played the principal male role opposite to hers, grinned and waved at her. She smirked and waved back. Matteo was a winner like she was, and they worked well together. She had been very pleased when learning he had been cast in the role of the prince.
"I don't think we should see each other anymore."
Brick's words over the phone suddenly came back to her like the stab of a knife, and her smirk dissolved. She saw the confusion on Matteo's face, but she glanced away and half-listened as Mlle. Catriona gave some last minute direction before they would begin rehearsal of the pas de deux that ended Act III. Thankfully, she had no feeling that she might cry at this recollection. But the crushing weight and pain of loss were still strong, such that she realized suddenly she had placed a lot more value on the relationship with Brick than she had previously thought.
The rehearsal piano began again, and Bonnie began moving through the practiced steps.
"We did all those things and I don't really know you."
The memory of Brick's explanation for the break-up sent another stab of pain through her chest. How could he say he didn't know her? He knew her class schedule, and all of her extracurriculars...
Her thoughts stopped suddenly as she realized that Brick was right. They didn't...really know each other. They knew their schedules, what kinds of movies they liked, and the local school gossip, and that they both understood athletic discipline. But otherwise...
Bonnie swallowed nervously as she considered the boy—young man—who had taken seven years to graduate high school that she had dated on and off for three years. Brick Flagg...was hot. That was it. She didn't really know much about who he was. That suddenly concerned her as she looked around at the other dancers on the stage. Some of them she knew more about than even the girls on the cheer squad. Yes, with the cheerleaders she could gossip. But the ballerinas talked more about real life—their jobs, their plans for after high school, their families... Some were even already in college.
Bonnie moved to the wings of the stage, catching her breath as the coda of the dance approached. Matteo's leaps were majestic, and Bonnie smiled as she watched the fellow athlete who was very attractive—just not in the bulky way that most appealed to her—and who she realized she also knew better than she knew Brick. She didn't even know what Brick was studying... But Matteo was preparing to audition for the New York Ballet. And as a hobby, he did woodworking.
She had no idea what Brick's hobbies were, or if he even had any.
"It's over."
There was a greater finality as she replayed Brick's words in her mind again, and it was with great annoyance she realized the tears were beginning to flow. She almost missed her cue as the piano changed, but she set her jaw and held her head high as she retook the stage.
She found her mark and set up for the fouettes. She had managed twenty-seven the last time and was hoping to make it an even twenty eight this time. She heard the anacrusis of the music and began to spin, executing the practiced technique with skill. But as she spun, blurred images of faces watching her suddenly brought the fears back to her mind.
Was she too heavy? Did the turns look awkward as a result? Did the other ballerinas gossip about her when she wasn't there, the way she gossiped about each cheerleader in turn when they weren't around?
"Since when do you have real friends?"
The memory pushed her out of the intense focus that her spin required, and with a small cry, Bonnie fell out of her eleventh fouette. She quickly moved back to the mark and resumed, not wanting to stop because it would only bring more negative attention. She caught just a glimpse of surprised faces and heard gasps over the piano before she resumed the turns, counting them even though there was no point in her desperate search for distraction.
She may have overheard the other dancers talking about their lives over the years...but she didn't really tell them about her own. They weren't her friends anymore than anyone at school was.
As she finished the last fouette—twenty-one—she posed and smiled confidently despite the tear rolling down her cheek. She didn't look at Matteo as she passed him while he began his solo.
"You? Queen?"
Her siblings were right. Who would vote for her anyway? She talked badly about those she called 'friends' to everyone, and she didn't even acknowledge people like Reiger who had been in her class since middle school. She had started faltering in cheer practice, which never happened. And now she was even failing as the star of the ballet.
It was with this swirl of dark thoughts that she began the final sequence with Matteo, who broke character to give her a concerned look as her tears continued to flow. When finally the piano held the last chord Bonnie smirked as her character required, and posed while breathing through her teeth, trying to calm down.
"Are you okay?" Matteo asked quietly through the small wave of applause their fellow students gave.
Bonnie held her smile and allowed the eye contact, which only had the tears flowing more.
The moment the music stopped and the director began giving commentary, Bonnie interrupted with a hurried, "Excuse me," as she began rushing from the stage. The murmurs that followed made her feel sick, and none more than one of the other girls commenting: "Maybe she's going to call Brick."
----------------------
The rest of the rehearsal had gone better. Bonnie had dried her tears and shoved the emotions away with her mantra of 'winners don't cry' and had channeled all of her focus and energy into making up for the earlier mistake and emotional slip. People acting differently toward her the rest of the night had only driven her further, and while she might not have given the most artistic performance, technically, she was flawless.
She had left the theater with that small measure of control giving her a touch of strength, and she maintained that feeling for the entire drive home. But once she had parked in the darkened driveway and saw fewer lights on in her family's home, she felt the roiling of emotions start to return.
She shouldered her ballet bag and silently moved up the walk to the house, hoping that everyone had retired to their respective hobbies for the evening. And Lonnie of course was on a date and wouldn't be home for hours. All Bonnie wanted to do was take a shower and forget the horrible day.
Thankfully, she moved quietly enough that her brother—playing video games on the big screen now, since her parents had gone to bed early due to their flight the next day—was unaware of her presence. And as she passed by Connie's room, she heard her older sister gossiping on the phone.
When Bonnie closed her own bedroom door she felt a huge relief come over her at the same time a weight fell. She barely had the strength to pull her purse out of her ballet bag, and her phone of that before dropping the former on the floor and flopping on the bed with the latter.
She let herself rest for just a moment, her muscles tired from their exertion throughout the day and night, and then she sat up intending to get ready for a shower. But her gaze fell upon the stack of books and homework on her desk.
"Unghh..." she groaned aloud, flopping down on her bed again and dropping her forearm over her eyes and plunging her vision into darkness. She began mentally calculating how long it would take to shower and then tallying how many assignments she had due the next day.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from her phone which was still on silent from rehearsal. She flipped it open, her chest constricting at the thought it might be Brick.
It wasn't.
It was just a silly update from Stoppable's blog. Bonnie sneered in annoyance and almost dropped the phone, when she saw a comment alert pop up on the new post. It was Tara.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened up the post to actually read it.
*Drakken and Shego seen dining casually at Croutons. Is it a business meeting or a romantic interlude?*
Bonnie felt a pang as she looked at the photo that Stoppable or someone had snapped of the villain duo... Was Stoppable actually following them for this silly obsession?
She scrolled down to read Tara's comment which was full of emoticons and hearts, enthusiastic about the growing evidence that the pair might be romantically involved. The pang Bonnie felt before grew stronger. Even the villains that Possible fought were going to find their happy ending. While her relationship-which-wasn't had just ended.
With a heavy sigh and a few yawns, Bonnie changed into her pajamas and decided to forego the shower for the evening. It would only make her more tired, and she had a couple of hours of homework at least. And it was already past nine o' clock.
She moved to her desk and sat down, arranging her books in the order in which she wanted to tackle the assignments. Another buzz from her phone caught her attention, and she glanced at it to see that a debate had sprung up on Stoppable's blog about the blue and green-skinned villains. It seemed even Kim was weighing in, in favor of the two being together, which thrilled Tara.
Bonnie considered her friend again, who she'd given so little time to throughout senior year. And who despite that and her general careless and casual treatment of her...was perhaps the only real friend she had.
An emotional tug of war began within Bonnie then, which she finally ceded to as she flipped to her messages and typed a quick text to Tara.
*Thanks for coming with me today. I'm going to be up late finishing homework if you want to join me in snore-ville.*
She sent the text and felt the emotions in her chest start to calm. She looked in the mirror and sighed as she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.
'Winners never quit.'
Her phone began buzzing with the notification of a call. On the screen was Tara's name, and Bonnie smiled.
----------------------
Days Later...
Bonnie stood on the football field and adjusted her black skirt, knowing she looked perfect, but unable to get Kim's and Monique's words out of her head. So strong was the swirl of nerves building in her stomach that she completely missed Tara's wave of encouragement from the sidelines.
"In case you didn't notice, now Kim is the one dating the star of the football team."
"Ron has broken more school records than Brick ever did."
Bonnie's siblings had been right... In the days that had followed her picking up her gown from the store with Tara, all the buzz around school was that Kim was the one slated to win the title. Bonnie tried to tell herself she didn't care, but the buzz had been equally clear: Ron Stoppable was expected to win king.
Bonnie tried to ignore what that would mean for her. Still dateless, humiliated, and no longer the center of attention...anywhere. The senior table in the cafeteria was meaningless, since they were all seniors. And the only people who cared anyway were brainless jocks, as it turned out. She was an equal with Kim on the cheer squad, but since they had taken roles as co-captains it was becoming very clear who was in fact more skilled between them at the sport, and it wasn't Bonnie. She was even slipping in ballet, and still wondered if her curves and weight might be an issue. And of course, ever since Kim had...saved the world...from those Bueno Nacho toys, everyone treated the red-head exactly like who she was: a hero.
While Bonnie herself was ignored and forgotten.
Soon Mr. Barkin would announce Kim and Ron as the Middleton High homecoming king and queen, and they would get even more attention. While for the remainder of Bonnie's senior year she would fade into obscurity. But without all of the things that cheer and ballet and Brick's status had brought to her...was she still a winner? Who...who was she?
"This year we replaced our old-fashioned paper ballots with our own state of the art electronic voting system, which snagged second place for Ron Reiger in the Tri-City science fair."
Bonnie absorbed Mr. Barkin's words and in a flash an idea struck her about how to get her identity back.
Ron Reiger was seated near the sideline with his whatever-device that everyone had used to vote for king and queen. Bonnie ran out of the row of nominees into Reiger's line of sight, who looked at her with the same leer he had back at the boutique. It turned her stomach, but Bonnie ignored it to give him a flirty smile and a 'call me' gesture. Reiger's leer grew, and after giving her a knowing smile he typed something into his device and a new paper printed out.
Bonnie sighed in nervous satisfaction as she hurried back to her place near Kim. She might not be the best cheerleader. She might not even be the best ballerina or best student anymore. She might have lost her boyfriend. She might be...all alone... But she was going to be homecoming queen. And once she was, she could start getting her identity back.
Because Bonnie Rockwaller was a winner, and she always would be.
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closedafterdark · 4 years
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Author-Nim if request are open may I request a scenario where mommy Irene takes you as a plus one to a party. Irene had to go somewhere and she left you alone. Suddenly, Jennie walks up to you and starts flirting with you and she ends up touching your crotch. Next thing you know Irene comes from behind and whispers in your ear “I bet you think your acting real cute letting Jennie put her hands over you” she takes you outside and fucks you in front of Jennie
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Tonight is the annual celebration dinner for Red Velvet Company. An entire hotel was rented out, much to the annoyance of customers who booked hotel rooms in advance. A sea of upper high class people filled the ballroom, drinking rather expensive wine and talking about golf.
You sighed, standing next to the h’dourves table as you sipped the terrible tasting wine. You felt out of place, black suit and tie dinners were never your forte. Not to mention you were only a guest here, a plus one to your girlfriend and CEO of the company, Bae Joohyun.
“Why the sad face?”
The lovingly soft voice causes you to turn around. You smiled as you saw your girlfriend standing before you. She wore a beautiful red, strapless dress that complimented her milky white skin. Her hair was neatly parted in the middle, not a single bang on her forehead out of place. You were always mesmerized by how beautiful she looked, often times feeling inferior to the beauty that called you her own. She smiled as she saw you admiring her and gives you a soft kiss on the lips.
“Mind telling me why my loving boyfriend is standing next to appetizers by himself?” Joohyun softly asks. She was never one to raise her voice when it was just the two of you.
“I’m sorry, honey. You know I’m never good with these kinds of things” you said.
“I understand. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care for them either” she said, pouting at you. “I’m sorry I had to drag you along to this”
“Babe, don’t be sorry. If anything it should be me who’s apologizing. I’m bringing down the whole mood”
Her large glassy orbs shined brightly, staring at you as her beautiful smile melted all of your troubles away. You both stared at each other, as you bring her hand and caress her cheek softly, pinching it. She laughs and licks her lips, planting her extremely soft lips against yours. The two of you don’t care that it was a public area, exchanging in a passionate and tender kiss. Joohyun moans as your hands caress her exposed back and make their way down to her extremely soft bottom. She pulls you even closer, her tiny right hand making a fist as she hits your chest for caressing her ass while you two were in public.
You both pull away from each other after several minutes, smiling as you push your forehead onto hers softly. Both of you try to catch your breath as you look lovingly into each other’s eyes.
“I love you” Joohyun said.
“I love you too, wife” you replied. You recently started calling Joohyun that, causing her to always giggle as she felt so loved by you. You gave her several more kisses before squeezing her butt softly once more.
She hit your chest as she asked for one more kiss and told you she was going to go to the restroom to freshen up.
You smiled, watching her walk away as her cute butt could be seen through her dress.
“Quite the show you put on just now”
You turned around and saw a woman slightly taller than Joohyun looking at you, her cat eyes seductively alluring. She had nice hips and equally nicer thighs, her outfit a bit more revealing than what others wore. You were happy to see someone else who was familiar to you.
“Hi, Jen. What’s up?”
“Joohyun’s pretty hot” she said, approaching you slowly. “But what’s such a handsome guy like you doing with an old hag like her”
“That’s not cool to talk about my girlfriend that way, Jen”
“I’m just saying” she said as she grabs the knot of your tie and fixes it. “You need a younger pussy to satisfy you”
“Oh yeah?” you asked.
“Yeah” she replied in a dangerously seductive tone. Jennie’s accent always came out whenever she spoke naughtily. “I have a little something planned for you tonight”
“And what might that be?” you said, both of your faces close together as you inhaled Jennie’s intoxicating scent.
Jennie smiles as she plants a kiss on your lips before grabbing the back of your head and whispers into your ear. Your eyes widen as words leave her mouth and begin to process in your brain.
Jennie smiles as she takes your lips once more, her hands roaming your back as you smack her ass hard. She yelps in surprise, causing her to bite your lower lip. You break the connection between you two as Jennie sees your expression.
“I take it you accept my proposition?”
You nod, still stunned. Jennie grins as she takes your hand in hers and brings you outside the ballroom area. She leads you past the various security members assigned to the event until you both find a private bathroom with two stalls.
The moment you lock the door, Jennie captures your lips once more. Her kisses were more aggressive than Joohyun’s, sloppy and full of lust. She takes control by sliding her tongue inside your lips. Your hands find their way back onto her waist, as they naughtily roam every part of her body. You found Jennie’s hips were much wider than Joohyun’s, as your hands return back to their previous location in the ballroom: her bottom. You unbutton her extremely short shorts and massage them, causing Jennie to moan as your cold hands contrast her warm skin.
Jennie’s hands are now around your neck, kissing you hungrily before they find the buttons of your shirt and begin to remove them. When she finally unbuttons the last one, her kisses plant a trail onto your neck as you see your body be marked by her bright red lips. You remove your shirt and tie as she continues to kiss your chest until she finds her way to your abs. She looks at you with lust, smirking as she drops to her knees and finds your bulge in front of her face.
Jennie bites on your tip through the cloth fabric, causing you to moan as she unbuttons your slacks, already having unbuckled them in the ballroom. With one swift motion, she pulls your slacks and boxers down as your throbbing erection hits her cheek. She giggles, as she grasps ahold of your base and licks your tip. You let out a soft moan as you leaned your head back. Jennie’s hands were cold, which felt wonderful on your warm cock. You felt shivers down your spine as you looked down at your former booty call, pure joy and excitement seen on her face as she lathers your cock generously with her spit.
She strokes you in a delightful rhythm, getting aroused from hearing your cock be wet with her spit as well as your moans of satisfaction. She continues as her mouth kisses your balls, making sure they were sloppy before taking each individually in her warm and wet mouth. You let out a longer moan, as she sucked your balls one at a time. Her suction of them was your favorite thing she did to you, hearing the beautiful sound of them being released from her mouth with a loud pop. She moaned as she cupped your scrotum.
“These balls feel so heavy... and all of it just for me” she said.
You wanted to scream as Jennie’s mouth returned to your balls, taking both of them inside her mouth simultaneously. You started to feel lightheaded, forgetting about Joohyun as you watched an old flame give you oral that kept you up at night sometimes. She releases your sack, both of you gasping for air.
She smiles, kissing your tip as she only takes a few seconds to rest before dragging her tongue from the underside of your scrotum to your cock tip. Jennie knew what you liked, flattening her tongue as much as possible while she drew long licks. After several times of doing so, she reaches the tip. Giving you another kiss and licking up your leaking precum, she parts her lips and takes you inside her mouth.
“Holy fuck...” you moan as your cock enters Jennie’s comforting mouth. Her tongue seamlessly glides your underside as she teases you by only taking you halfway before retreating until only your tip is inside her. She looks at you and smiles with her eyes until she pushes her head down and begins slurping on your cock. You smile as inch by inch of you enters Jennie’s slutty mouth.
As you watch her, you notice the differences in techniques between her and Joohyun. Jennie forms an air tight seal on your cock, as her lips contain your shaft. She pools as much spit as possible to warm and wetten your cock. Joohyun preferred deepthroating, wanting you to facefuck her until you came in her mouth. Jennie loved teasing you, methodical in her actions of swiping her tongue across your tip and shaft. She never left your balls unattended, massaging them whenever she sucked your cock or taking them in her mouth whenever she stroked you. Joohyun never was the first to initiate ball play unless you convinced her to do so. Jennie’s blowjobs were imprinted in your memory, you missed the feeling of her mouth on you even though you were happy with Joohyun.
You failed at suppressing the loud moan that escaped your lips.
Jennie’s soft hands leave your balls and grip your thighs harshly as she began to suck your cock at a faster pace. She took you deeper into her mouth, her previously tight seal on you opening up as you felt her spit fall onto your base and balls, staining the floor. The sounds of Jennie gargling on your cock filled the restroom as you look at Jennie’s beautiful brown eyes and see her welling with excitement. She hums through a mouth full of cock, jamming you as far into her throat as she could.
You reached down and caressed her softly, she felt both of your hands on the side of her head as you rapidly force her head up and down your cock. You both maintain eye contact, as you fuck Jennie’s mouth. You loved hearing Jennie gag for you, her eyes spilling out tears of pleasure as her spit clings to her slutty mouth and chin, dripping onto her chest. Her hands remained on your thighs, digging into your skin. You feel yourself reaching a euphoric high as Jennie’s moaned loudly through your cock.
“So this is what you wanted to do...” you heard a woman’s voice say as one of the stalls open. You saw your girlfriend, a sweaty panting mess as her fingers were still inside her.
“N-noona, I...”
You were about to withdraw your cock from Jennie’s mouth as she hits your thigh and forces you to deepthroat her. You moaned as your hands instinctively grip her head and push her deeper.
“Shh. Don’t worry, baby. I’m not mad. In fact... why don’t I join and show this little slut here how mommy takes good care of you” Joohyun said as she gets on her knees next to Jennie.
“Oh, please” Jennie shot back as she regretfully withdrew her mouth from you.
“Daddy likes when his little girl is bad”
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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years
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Laundry Day (Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader)
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Laundry Day
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader
Bucky Bingo Square: Domestic AU
Characters: Bucky Barnes,
Setting: two months from the ending of “Hey Bartender”, set in the Marvel universe but canon diverged the snap never happened.
Rating: M (Mature), +18 only please
Warnings: cursing, mature themes, angst, longing/yearning, idiots pining for one another,
Word count: 3,002
Summary: Sunday’s the dreaded laundry day when there’s not a stitch of clothing to wear except the man your currently crushing on, soft Henley shirt.
Notes: Bingo Square fill and written for the lovey @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and Write Wednesday prompt.
Tag list: @buckybingo​
You’ve heard it many time, how cool you own a bar. Can drink whenever you want. Let me drink for free. Last thought getting a snort from your lips while looking through the laundry pile. The main reason owning you a business sucked you never get a day off to do normal shit like the fucking laundry that seems to pile up before you know what’s happened. Wondering if like rabbits it multiples while mating.
Huffing out a resigned sigh, tossing the last article of dirty clothing back into the basket thankful you wouldn’t need to schlep the bags to a local laundromat. Instead could get a little light cleaning done while the built in laundry room, a big thank you too granddad for putting the room in, did at least part of the work.
“Fucking hate laundry day,” low growl leaving your lips and tugging on the only clean clothes left.
Hefting the plastic basket on to your generous hip, grabbing the towel off the bedroom doorknob to add and heading towards the small room just off the bathroom to the left. Dropping the basket down you go back out to put on some music. Grabbing up your cell phone happy to have brought large capacity storage so your whole collection could fit. Setting all of Lady Gaga’s music on shuffle ‘Monster’ flowing through the small speakers positioned around your living room in specific areas for optimal sound quality. Wide hips swaying to the beat black Henley brushing the tops of your thick thighs incased in shorts, knee high socks keeping the rest of your legs warm and helping you slide across the oak wood floors. Not caring what you look like at the moment, expecting no one to show up on an early Sunday morning.
Bright smile slides over your lips the song changing to ‘Born this way’ belting out the words thankful and not for the first time you don’t have neighbors. Owning the whole building does come with certain perks. Meaning it didn’t matter how loud you got no one would call the cops on you for excessive noise or lousy singing. With those thoughts in mind you head back to start sorting clothes getting a load going, grabbing the swiffers dust clothes, mop and bucket on your way out.
Leaving the last two by the kitchen island, spinning back body moving to the beat of the music. Picking up bits of trash making you frown for a moment, knowing you weren’t that messy but shrugging off the thought tossing the trash. Starting to dance around, straightening lamps, running the dust cloth over the expanse of hard wood furniture and nick knacks from your childhood. Getting into the rhythm, beat caressing your body, tingling your senses making you move in ways you wouldn’t show another living soul only these four walls.
Finishing up the living room, you stand back to catch a breath admiring your handing work when ‘Shallow’ starts to play. Bradly Cooper’s smooth tenor caressing your ears a soft sigh leaving your lips. Your body starts to move to the melody, slow and sensuous, arms wrapping around your tummy as you sway. Twirling as Lady Gaga’s voice takes over, stepping around the couch that faces towards the tv positioned in the middle of a brick wall. Bursting out to sing the chorus, you keep swaying picking the tempo up. Draping your body backwards over the couch careful not to knock a lamp off the side table. Grabbing up a remote to use as a makeshift microphone, singing your heart out to no one but the empty room or so you think.
Raising back up slowly to spin away still belting out the lyrics breathlessly, wide smile on your face happiness thumping through your veins. Feeling freer than you have in a long time all thanks to a song that comes to an end with loud clapping ringing through your apartment. Making you scream out and throw the remote towards the source of the nose. Squeak existing your breathless lips that hang open staring at Bucky Barnes’s imposing figure filling the doorway of your apartment.
Catching the black plastic wrapped remote in his flesh hand before it landed against his chest, smirk sliding over those oh so kissable lips. Not that you haven’t dreamt of at least a couple nights a week. “Fucking hell Barnes how long have you been standing there?” Quickly moving towards your phone to cut the music.
Turning to take in his rumpled appearance. Chestnut hair tucked back into a messy ponytail few wisps hanging out to frame his face. Sculpted by the finest artists all angles and edges begging for your lips to caress. That’s graced with shadows of a sleepless night of tossing and turning in a to soft bed and a floor too cold for comfort. Sold wall of muscle that is his shoulders and chest covered in a wrinkled green Henley top button open to bare just a hint of collarbone. You try not to lick dry lips at the peek of skin wanting to bury your nose in the hollow of his throat and nibble to see what sounds you could drag from those sinful lips. Snapping back to the present when he begins to speak before your wondering eyes could take in the bottom half of his fackable body. They lock with his for a moment longer than proper catching the dark circles and weariness he tries to hide behind that boyish smile.  
“Long enough,” clearing his throat to push down the arousal building up. In truth he tried knocking first, pounding followed with a couple of shouts of your name to accompany. Hearing the music spilling from behind the close door Bucky pulled the key you gave him last month out to let himself in.
Unprepared for the sight his eyes would land upon after pushing the old hard oak door open. Music hitting him square in the ears, not unpleasant a tune but a touch loud. However, that’s not what caught his eyes, no it’s the way you moved around the apartment to the melody. Body swaying, rolling and bending in ways that had him gritting his teeth to keep from stepping forward and pulling your soft body against his strong chest. Wanting to fill the spot of invisible partner, dipping you in his arms, wrapping them around your thick waist. Teasing the column of your throat with his lips after bending you backwards over his arm.
You’re a fucking temptation to his body and damnation to his heart and soul. One Bucky Barnes would gladly partake of if he didn’t feel so tainted, hands coated in invisible blood, mind splintered with nightmares of memories and lies. He wouldn’t saddle you with him as a burden. He’d push those feelings back bury them, accepting the friendship you offer and a shelter from a world he’s yet to fully grow accustom too.
Hands on your wide hips, scowl contorting your beautiful features, “I didn’t give you that key so you could barge in whenever you like Bucky.”
“I brought breakfast,” pointing towards the little white bags on the small wooden table by the door. Giving you the saddest puppy eyes he could which only makes you huff and roll your own.
Shaking your head, “You think you’re cute don’t ya Barnes?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger into your tone but it comes out more playful teasing than growling menace.
“Of course doll, you wouldn’t have me any other way,” wiggling his brow, scooping up the bags to follow you into the kitchen. Kicking something over he looks down teasing smirk slides over his lips before giving way to a playfully sheepish look, “Guess I finally kicked the bucket huh?”
Trying to hold back the laughter but it comes out on a snort that has a deep gruff laugh issuing from Bucky which in turn makes you giggle harder. Holding your stomach as it aches from the mirth lighting your features. Taking notice of the fact years have disappeared from the weariness he normally carries. Eyes sparkling in early morning sunlight shining in from the kitchen window. His beautiful steals your breath for a moment as you calm down, turning to start the Keurig, reaching for the pods of coffee you keep just for Bucky.
“Incorrigible Barnes, sit ya ass down while I make coffee,” couple of short giggles break free with another shake of your head.
Placing the bags down before dropping into his usual seat, “Two…”
“Spoonfuls of sugar no cream or milk I remember along with the dark roast that’s your favorite,” shooting him a smile. Grabbing your cell, changing the music to shuffle your whole library, turning the volume down so its more background noise than actually listening. “What brings you by this morning? Besides taking ten years off my life of course.”  
Snorting at your quip with trying to hide that he’s smitten by the fact you’ve memorized how he likes his coffee. “Hadn’t seen you in a week doll, thought I’d drop in with breakfast and see if you need help with anything down in the bar.”
Taking a few moments to actually looking over your plush frame. Big mistake because he notices how those shorts mold to your wide hips and thick thighs begging for attention. Knee high socks shouldn’t look so damn sexy but on you he’s shifting in his seat to take pressure off the erection building in his jeans. Eyes dancing to take in your upper half damn near choking on his own spit at seeing you wear his Henley. Stretched out with age and use from his days in hiding and a little thicker in build. The way it stretched over your lush breasts cupping the generous globes outlined for his eyes to devour. Flowing against your tummy he wouldn’t object to laying his head on while cuddling into your body. Wanting to place kisses and nibbles on the skin hidden from his widening cerulean eyes. Shocking him back to reality with you placing a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.
Palm going to his forehead, “Really doll, what exactly are you feeling for?” Glancing up to search your turned down face. Catching the soft scent of Egyptian musk, mixed with clean linen and something sweet added that he’s sure belongs solely to you.
“Seeing if you have a fever, you checked out on me there for a few moments Barnes,” gently pressing the pads of your fingers into his neck, counting a pulse and sending goosebumps to skitter across his body.
Taking the hand from his body, the urge to pull you into his lap strong with your warmth radiating into his. “I’m fine sweetheart honest just lost in thought of this beautiful dame I know.”
“Lucky woman,” slowly pulling your hand back tramping down on the hurt flashing through your body. Heading back to start your own coffee, “Make yourself at home as usual,” shaking your head watching Bucky toe off his biker boots and prop his mismatched sock feet into the closest chair. Rolling your eyes, “Way to comfortable,” exasperated quip leaving your mouth as you head back and change laundry over.
“What’s with the get up anyway?” Not wanting to shout, Bucky followed to lean against the door jam of the all to small room. Coffee mug hovering near his lips thankful for not taking a sip when you bent over to add cloths to the dry.
Plush ass on display for his eyes to map, flesh hand tightening around ceramic mug while vibranium plates whirl with a clinched fist at his side. Tempting isn’t even a word he’d use to describe the torture your presenting him with. Quickly averting his eyes to the ceiling, but not before catching the peek of silken looking skin his shirt bares while sliding up. Searching now for something to distract himself. Before he did a very stupid thing like pull you into his arms and see if you fit against him like he’s imagined one too many times. Burying his face in your neck and tease the tender skin with three days worth of beard wanting to see if you’re sensitive and ticklish.  
Brought back from those sexual thoughts when you speak, words tossed over your shoulder, “It’s all I had to wear, everything else needed washing. Price I pay for owning and running my own bar,” shrugging you bend to pick up the next load swearing you hear a groan from the man behind you. Yet when you turn he just gives you a smile that seems to make his cerulean eyes dance.
“Ah that explains why you’re wearing my shirt though not how you got it,” against better judgement, Bucky reaches out to tug the hem. Baring a briefest hint of cleavage to his desire darken eyes, with all three buttons open. He swallows harshly taking a bigger sip of his hot coffee than meaning to but the slight burning mouth pain distracts him from those thoughts that could get him into trouble. “I’m not complaining doll just curious if you’re stealing my clothes when you come over to my place.”
Snorting, “It’s not your shirt Barnes, your clothes wouldn’t fit my wide ass,” placing a hand on his shoulder to push him out the doorway. “If anything it’s from a pervious boyfriend and just stretched out.” Though you can’t help but glance down at the shirt racking your brain to remember who left it behind. Till you remember not having a boyfriend for the last couple of years and even then you didn’t let them keep stuff at your apartment. Only Bucky, who has his own key and drops by when he needs a break from the Compound and Avenging. Eyes widen in shock at the realization that in fact this shirt belongs to Bucky and must’ve got put in with your laundry one of the last times he stayed the night after a bad mission.
Deep in thought, you miss the low growl leave his throat at the mention of other men or the way he frowns when you insult yourself. “You have a gorgeous ass doll stop putting yourself down,” gently grabbing your upper arm to spin you around and face him. “And yes that is my shirt, there’s a stain,” swallowing hard but still brushes his fingers over the darken slightly yellow patch between your breasts. “Right here, it’s dripped mustard from a Coney dog about three weeks back remember. We went to Coney Island since you never went, sharing the cotton candy and almost getting sick,” soft chuckle leaving his parted lips. “You’re laughter at the corny shows, riding the Ferris wheel, I almost felt normal for once,” vibranium hand dropping back to his side, he heads to the table and plops down into his previous seat. Cursing his actions, head cradled in his hands hiding from his behavior and you. Wanting the earth to swallow him whole for his stupidity in voicing those words instead of keeping them bottled up. For touching you without asking permission, but God does he want a repeat and this time not let go.  
Frozen by his words, heart aching for how he still feels, the searing touch of those cool metal fingers, but most of all by the realization he remembered a day you hold dear to your heart. Eyes close for a moment to gather your thoughts, taking a deep breath and heading for your cooling coffee. “What’d you bring for breakfast?” distracting them both of you from the elephant in the room.  
Head popping up so quickly your sure he’s cracked his neck, half smile tugging at his lips, but not reaching his eyes, “Your favorites of course.” Reaching for the bags to pull out a small assortment of breakfast pastries.
“Trying to fatten me up Barnes?” You jest though back peddle at the scowl Bucky sends you. “Okay, okay I won’t do that again,” hands up in surrender but under your breath, “till your gone.”
Caught in mid sip, “You do know I have superior hearing right?”
“Your point Superman?” Bringing your mug with to sit down on Bucky’s left.
“I heard what you muttered,” grabbing the cream cheese kolache and taking a health bite while keeping eye contact with you.
Shrugging, “Then I’ll keep those thoughts to myself from now on,” picking out your favorite pastry to nibble on. “Oh and don’t worry I’ll get your shirt back to you once the rest of my clothes finish. I’m sorry it’s so stretched out.”
“One of these days doll,” muttering the rest to himself. Thoughts running through his mind on how much he’d like to bend you over his lap or better yet spread out for him to taste. Till you understood the beauty held in your countenance, the sway of your wide hips and plush body. Learning just what you do to his body and heat. But he knew those imagines held a deeper sway than you’d let anyone else see. Ones needing more than searing touches and intimate kisses but true actions to show you the truth.
Confident on the outside but tormented by dark thoughts and self doubts. That revelation skitters across Bucky’s mind like hot iron dunked into cool water, shocking his system to how similar though different as well, in ways he didn’t want to examine not yet. Registering the last comment Bucky looks up at you, tracing the features of your face, how your body looks in his shirt with golden sunlight bathing you in a warm halo. Speaking the words before his brain can shut them off, “Keep the shirt doll it looks so much better on you and by the way you didn’t stretch it out I did.” Flashing you his patent smirk before taking another drink of lukewarm coffee. Never so thankful for laundry day, stretched out shirts and the beauty sitting next to him.
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sugar-petals · 3 years
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Can you tell us how to please a soft sub and hard sub? Like what could a guy enjoy?
it’s 95% individual, i’d ask + negotiate before ideas for play. i can suggest scenes but still, it might not be his limits. to remember is what differenciates the two: hard subs enjoy pain + power, soft subs don’t.
you can likely please the latter if you’re a gentle femdom aficionado. still depends on what kind of GFD you like, but you can grow into the role you agree on, shift. it’s a bit easier: fewer prerequisites. ofc there’s etiquette + talent, but you can please by tuning into the role pretty well. 
the former: not as flexible. there are set qualities. understand this as a ‘needed with good reason’ profile rather than gatekeeping. sadism is the requirement. no 50-50 zone, you feeling that you are a natural is key. your sub won’t be happy if you merely try it. it’s usually clear to a domme anyways, you either lick your fingers for s/m or not.
↳ as for specific kinks. what i can give you is a list of things to AVOID for each.💡it’s a roundabout way to see what he prefers and each sub’s a different case but it’s a compass.
✏︎ soft subs — don’ts
hair-pulling -> choose fondles and pats instead wherever he likes it the most.
name-calling -> praise is usually preferred
yelling -> whispering/soft-spoken, this is an asmr zone ☁️
hard spanking -> lighter squeezes
no squishy props -> use pillows, blankets, plushies if he wants. but, in any case, you’ll need pillows. can’t have enough of those.
tears -> only as a spontaneous release [during aftercare], most soft subs aren’t into dacryphilia
chaos -> soft subs love consistency. 
too much genitalia focus -> don’t forget the smooches and forehead kisses, and massages possibly. if he likes that, tend to seemingly neglegible body parts even, like ears and toes. boop the nose.
toy overwhelm -> back to basics, never forget he loves your hands. idea: choose pastels for color if you do get toys. dramatic black/red/metal is for the hardcore femdom department and suits the mood better. you likely have that preference already if you strictly soft dom.
breath play -> stick to neck kisses. mouth gags, same thing, he probably isn’t comfortable with it.
leaving marks -> 50-50, again, ask what kind you can and cannot leave. if he likes it, do 20% marks, 80% affection.
pragmatic, planned aftercare -> make it extensive + adapt easily. seems counterintuitive since hard subs take a lot more, but let me tell you soft subs think aftercare is literal catnip. if you’re a big brain domme, you transfer some aftercare favorites to the main act. also, about pragmatism: unlike with hard subs (see list below: #21), come up with a more fine-tuned safeword/limit system. these are play scenes where you can go into many different directions so that’s why. 
straightforward -> it’s no problem if you’re the indirect or shy type as a domme, it’s about careful questions toward him here. many soft subs approach their dommes well with wishes. ironically, hard subs are the other way around, they might anticipate more unless they’re very extroverted. the biggest hard subs were the quiet kiddos at school 😉 soft subs can be bubbly and reveal their demands rather easily.
deprioritize your orgasm -> make him tend to you in a lazy, slow demeanour. spoil each other.
all over the place -> stick to bedroom bed, bathtub and couch unless otherwise requested. the point is to have a safe and comfortable spot.
breaking him -> never push, always guide. again, consistency, no highs and lows.
suppressing critique -> he wants to know where to improve, show him exactly how to do things the right way and work with mistakes. not humiliating, more like teaching. 
dungeon -> keep it above ground. 
hands-on ownership -> show him he belongs to you in other ways. spoil him, that’s the best way.
high heels -> too impractical for 80% of GFD activities. fetish gear generally doesn’t work here. just mentioning, it’s probably already clear to everyone. and, purely soft dommes don’t gravitate towards dominatrix fashion in the first place.
passive -> unlike with hard subs, you likely do a lot of the work. soft dommes are busier than people expect.
atmosphere? -> switch on the fairy lights, candles, make it dim. make it as romantic as possible.
power imbalance -> air to breathe for any hard sub, but soft subs prefer flatter hierarchies. mind you, your position is still one of guidance. 
✏︎ hard subs — don’ts
tender voice > grit and growl in their ear aye
questions > proportion-wise, give more commands instead.
no tools -> introduce some devices according to your couple taste.
lenience -> tame that provocateur 😄 you define where his place is. show him, physically. under your foot, kneeling, bowing? find that perfect position for the two of you. 
only caressing > choke and slap him, but ask/announce right beforehand.
unbridled aggression -> misguided way of dominance unless it’s primal play. i know it’s more negatively connotated but deliberate brutality is the word, you exact it while keeping rather cool. unless... he fancies you as the angry mistress, or passionate, punishing. but then again, no aggression. just brutality. the difference is huge. the more sadistic the play, the more contained your action. not all understated, just very directed and according to how you spoke about it, and according to the feedback in front of you. you get perfect awareness, not dizzy tunnel vision and fluctuating feelings. i say brutality because it indicates a person knows what they’re doing. aggression and anger means you bottle your judgement. the brain switches off there, it gets too erratic. also, aggression is less severe and a means to an end while brutality is for its own sake and goes heavy which is what hard subs enjoy: since they’re masochists. aggressive and violent dommes are just assholes, brutal hard dommes... are good dommes. 😛
free reign clothes -> tell him what type of outfit makes him domme candy. experiment plenty. don’t worry, most hard subs enjoy being told what to wear. and even if they don’t, suggesting it won’t piss them off. also, you can get strict and exacting as fuck with this. hard subs want your possessiveness in creative ways.
plain undressed -> chances are CFNM could be a hot idea sometimes, or fetish wear which is often appreciated in all things hardcore. then again, dressing up is no must, but definitely try all-black outfits, suits etc, whatever makes you radiate authority and the upper hand. remember, hierarchy. your superiority is what he enjoys during sex, he actually gets confused if you don’t show it in your particular way. if it’s not clothes, it’s the voice, anyway. the voice lives in his head rent free.
no control -> full body attention, grope him the way he likes. also, the nape of his neck is where your hand belongs. guiding his head is just...mmh ❤️
monotony -> hard subs like a rollercoaster. roleplay = perfect opportunity.
static plans -> important: hard subs learn fast. since pain-pleasure is involved their sensations are more intense so feedback is usually unequivocal. mind you, soft subs can sort their preferences well but for them it takes exposure to variety.
what’s a nipple? -> pinching and more is most likely welcome. ask and test.
spoiling -> spoiling no. rewards, yes. he works for it. what does he work towards? pleasing you completely. in your body and commands.
shy domme -> when it comes down to it, you need to be resolute and eloquent. if you struggle with it, e.g. start with being stoic. pick your favorite pokerface and have a signature smirk lmao! and definitely do in-depth talks. yes, about his desires. unlike soft subs, some guys take more time to open up here. 
dry -> lube. keep it wet, especially his tear ducts anyway. 
unsure experiments/not knowing the outcome -> seriously tackle and prepare skills. yes, whip your pillow first. you can ‘try’ things with soft subs, but you ‘do’ things with hard subs. why? less room for errors. you please him by being precise. don’t let it intimidate you, simply take it as a responsibility he respects you greatly for.
heels -> hard subs might like that. plus, you’ll often simply stand. he does lots of the work. hard dommes can be more laid-back than you’d expect. remember, you kick his ass and give orders. he’s a pretty active party. exception: he’s tied up.
hesitation -> hard dommes have to be quick. especially since we edge a lot. also, never hesitate to praise.
forgetting skin -> stimulate large areas as much as you can.
unarmed -> chances are he likes knife play, ask about it.
too much caution and pampering -> an insult to his esteem. i’m not kidding. he feels in his element when you don’t hold back anxiously. trust his strength 😊 it’s a perk of femdom in the first place, you may be working on more muscles and often more space on the body, most maledoms don’t have that luxury. the same goes for safewording, keep it simple and applicable for the heat/reflex of the moment. it’s counterproductive to be overcautious since it makes it too complex.
the usual spot -> if he’s down: play everywhere, consider every room together. a cold and hard surface does something for a hard sub. as does rug burn if he likes that. make him do all kinds of things 100% naked on a carpet while you watch, it’s so humiliating. i did it, the result was my sub discovering even higher levels of sluttiness. 
suppression -> ask him to let it out vocally when he’s shy or not experienced. you’ll both love what follows. most hard subs are screamers. i hope you don’t have neighbors.
soft illumination -> use artificial light. not just to make your patient - doctor roleplay perfect, but because a hard domme needs to see what she’s doing for safety reasons already. use your (soy wax!) candles to ruin his back instead.
serious -> hardcore femdom is at its best when it’s peppered with little giggles. bring a feather just in case.
PS: these can even apply if they enjoy doing both, you have to match your tone according to the mood and plan then.
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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years
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The Third: Killan
CW: Literally nothing beyond some vague visual references to past torture, plus some unpleasant/negative generalizations about a fictional species. Killan is truly living the comf dream.
TIMELINE: ... later
As always, Killan’s universe and details of fae meta/biology/magic all belong to @wildfaewhump!
Even though the young woman knew the way, it still took three hours to walk from the barn, where she always stopped first to give a final scritch behind the ears to her favorite barn cat, to her aunt's tiny wooden cabin. 
It wasn’t even an easy three hours of walking. Instead, it was three hours of hard hiking in her loose pants and shirt with a shawl thrown over for warmth, her thick black hair with its rough curls sticking to her neck with sweat even as she shivered from the chill breeze. Sometimes the walk felt like it was all straight up, placing each step with care as the rocks scattered back down below and her heavy boots dug into the earth to keep her hold. 
At least her skin had held its color from summer and she felt the warmth of the sun settle in as she walked up to see her aunt.
The old woman lived up high on a ridge, hugging the side of the great mountains where the fae stayed hidden, with a view in the winter of the village far below and in the summer of acres upon acres of bright green trees and fields.
No one lived closer to the fae than her aunt did without coming to harm - the young woman even saw them circling overhead sometimes, out on the hunt. She’d even seen a mother, or she thought it was a mother anyway, with three littler fae flying behind her. 
Might’ve been cute, if the fae didn’t teach their fledglings to hunt by siccing them on lambs and other defenseless things in the spring. The young woman had made a note of the fledglings, that year, and they’d kept an eye out. No lambs went missing, though, so maybe the fae mam had decided to teach her babes to hunt somewhere else.
Living this close to the fae was dangerous. Anyone else would’ve been terrified to live that way, but her aunt had kept the same home since she built it herself as a young woman and swore she would live nowhere else.
I have honest dealings with Sidhe, love, said the old woman - who wasn't really her aunt, not by blood, but who was connected to her instead through a complex web of distant relations and friendships that her family simply called kin. Honest as can be. There had been a twinkle in milky green eyes that the young woman never quite understood, when she said those words. You might say, if you were so inclined, that I have had the most honest sort of dealings one can have.
Her aunt’s laughter had near lifted the roof off with its volume, and the young woman had smiled uncertainly along, even though she didn’t quite get the joke. 
Her aunt’s sense of humor always puzzled her. Fae weren’t to be joked about, not with such a jovial, even affectionate, tone. They were dangerous. They hurt people, slaughtered those who tried to find the pass through the mountains. They spoiled milk and made people sick. Everyone in the village kept iron along every window and doorway to keep the fae out. 
Everyone except her aunt, whose windows were always open, like she wanted them to crawl in with their wiry limbs and claw her face off. It had never happened, but… still. It wasn’t safe to live alone, to live so close to the fae. Her aunt did it anyway.
The young woman didn’t even know her real first name. She was Aunt Llyrie, but everyone knew Llyrie was just a name she’d taken, said she’d been given by someone and thought she’d keep.
By who, Auntie?
Mmmn, someone else, from long ago, when I was prettier than I had any right to be and he took a liking to walking on the ground for a while. That’s all you’ll ever need to know, love.
The young woman and her sisters and cousins had all asked her aunt, and the answer was always the same. Someone else. What could that even mean? 
She was called Aunt Llyrie because all women above an age were Aunt So-and-So or Auntie Whoever. It was simply how you did things, and the young woman had never thought twice about it. Her mother's sister was her aunt, and so was the old woman up on the ridge who grew herbs and made potions and salves. She came down only to check on pregnant women and new babies, and otherwise people who needed help went to her.
Not that very many people did. The old woman was spoken of in hushed tones. People made a sign against evil, they called her touched. 
But they asked her to be there when their babies were born, anyway. No woman had died in childbirth in forty-three years, not since the old woman had taken up midwifery and started bringing her medicines with her. She had been there for the births of babies, and those babies’ babies. She might be there to meet the first babies’ grandbabies, too.
Who knew?
She was odd, though. Ask her about the fae and her aunt's face would settle into a hundred wrinkles like lines on an ancient browned map as she smiled.
Her voice creaked a little as age wore down its firm strength in sound but not in the iron-tough foundation of her spirit, and she would only shake her head. I do not fear the Sidhe. Will they carry an old woman away when they did not take the young one? Paugh, maybe he will one day. I would thank him for the final journey into the sky. 
The young woman didn’t understand that, either. 
Still, she had gone to see her aunt a hundred times or more, in her life. She was always welcomed with open arms by a woman who had seen her coming long before she actually arrived. 
Today, though, she wound her way up the small path only to find her aunt’s cabin closed up tight. Even the shutters to those open windows were closed, despite the mild mountain air. A thin curl of smoke wound up from the chimney, the only sign of life beyond the solid black cat who slept along the low stone wall that encircled the garden. She gave it a quick run of fingers along the top of its head and down its back as she passed, feeling it arch up gratefully into her touch. It meowed, stretching, and leapt gracefully down to the path to trot along beside her.
Swallowing, she knocked on her aunt’s door, feeling trepidation curl cold and heavy in the bottom of her stomach. “Auntie? Are you at home?”
Where else would she be? In the young woman’s twenty years on earth, she had never once seen her aunt be anywhere else but home or seeing to the birthing of a baby. And since there were no new babies in the village…
The door popped open with a creak of ancient hinges, and the young woman swallowed as her aunt’s eyes peered through, with an expression she had never seen before - suspicion. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I-” The young woman blinked, startled. She felt suddenly guilty, even though she had committed no crime. Did I do something wrong and I just don’t remember? “I came to ask for a tincture, there’s an ague has hit the blacksmith and his family. My mam sent me up-”
Her aunt cleared her throat, cracked the door just a little bit wider. “Today’s not the day for it, love,” She said, her voice slightly sharp, snappish in a way that made the young woman take a step back, unsettled and uncertain. 
“Well, I… it’s just, the ague is quite-... Aunt, are you well?” The young woman’s head tilted, trying to take a closer look, only to have the old woman close the door slightly, showing just one blue eye through the crack. Her heart began to race. She had clearly done something, said something on her last visit, angered the old woman in some way. But she had no idea what she could possibly have done. “If you’re sick, Auntie, I could nurse you?”
“I’m not sick, dear.” There was a pause, the old woman taking time to think, and then she said, “Can you keep a secret, love? From everyone but me?”
“A… a secret?” Despite her nervousness, and how ominous everything seemed when put together, the young woman had to admit she felt no small thrill at the idea of something secret. In a village like hers, there was no such thing as a secret. Even a quick kiss with the blacksmith’s son was reported to her mam within minutes, and she a grown woman whose kisses should be her own business by now. “I could, Auntie, of course I could. But what is the secret?”
Her aunt hesitated a moment more, and then the door swung open. Inside smelled like a mix of smoke and something savory, and the young woman’s eyes lit on the meat pies cooling out on the table as she stepped into the open cabin’s kitchen-side. “You must swear on your life you won’t tell a soul, love.”
“I won’t, Auntie, swear on my heart.” Her eyes scanned the walls, finding all the cooking pans hung on their hooks, bundles of herbs drying above the fireplace, a kettle hung for water to boil for tea. It was all the same, and yet there was a change in the air in here, something different indeed. Something smelled sharp and cold, like the way the night smelled in autumn when the sky was clear and the stars gave off nearly as much light as the moon. “What is the secret?”
There was a rustling from the bed-corner, and the young woman turned that way to stare, wide-eyed, at what she thought at first must be the largest bird she had ever seen. 
Her aunt’s hand, warm, dry, with softly wrinkled brown skin like thin creased paper folded a thousand times until it is nearly cloth, came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “It’s not a ‘what’,” She said, her voice gentle. “It’s a ‘who’.”
“Wh-what-”
The wings moved, parting to reveal-
“Gods almighty, a fae!” The young woman scrambled backwards, tripped over a broom, fell flat on her arse on the flat wooden slats of the floor. She let out a breathy scream, backing up until her back hit the wall, grabbing the handle of a cast-iron cookpan as tightly as she could - let the bastard fae try to hurt her, she’d whack it with iron until its face was nothing but boils, she would, she’d not go quietly into some fae’s stomach - and holding it in front of her as a weapon.
The thing on the bed flinched back when she did, curling itself up tightly, staring at her with wide, terrified bright blue eyes with razor-thin slit pupils, perfectly inhuman. Its face, though… well, its face and hair looked nothing like she’d been told fae should look. It wasn’t angular or pointy-chinned, had no pointed ear that folded back or forwards, it just looked like… like a person. Like some man her own age, really. 
It looked… well, it looked frightened, is what. Of her.
It made a high keening sound of fear, not a human sound at all.
“Calm, the both of you,” Her aunt snapped, stepping between them. The young woman didn’t move, kept the iron pan out ahead of her like a knight brandishing a sword. The fae-but-not-fae stayed pressed up against the wall in the bed, his wings shivering, trilling low in its throat. She could hear the feathers rustling with its fear. “He won’t hurt you, love. He’s just looking for a place to heal.”
“H-Heal? From what?” Her voice shook, but her hands didn’t. She was proud of that. 
Her aunt began to laugh, and the young woman simply stared blankly, wondering if the old woman had perhaps lost her mind. “The ague, dear. Same as the blacksmith. This young man has taken quite ill.”
The young woman turned narrowed eyes back to the thing on the bed. Had it bewitched her aunt, somehow? Used their wicked dark magics on her? “Fae don’t catch our sicknesses, Auntie.”
“Hm, that’s true.” Her aunt’s smile was shining, beatific. “Fae don’t. But this young man isn’t fae. He came in delirious overnight. I’ve given him a tincture has brought his fever down some, though not all. Come, love. It’s rude to threaten a young man without even learning his name.”
“But-... but he-...” She frowned, and took a step closer, and then another. The thing on the bed did look like a young man, that was true. He wore tattered old clothes, worn to holes where his knobby knees poked through. But for his wings and his eyes… “He’s not… fae? But the wings-”
“Mmmn, yes. I did ask about that. He says they came later.” Her aunt shrugged, as if to say, pay it no mind. “He’ll not give me a name but said I could call him Del. That’s fae for boy, that is.”
“How d’you know that?” She took a closer look at the old woman, then, and wondered how much about the woman’s life she had kept secret from the village, too.
“Just do. Isn’t important. So anyway, he clearly knows a fae, even if he isn’t one.”
“I-I’m not,” The young man spoke for the first time. His voice was low and hoarse, but sort of… lovely, too. The young woman took another step closer, slowly lowering the cookpan. “I’m not fae.”
“Are you… half-breed, then?” The young woman asked.
The boy looked away from her, and it was that more than anything that made her think he wasn’t fae at all. Everyone knew fae would never look away from you, never let a threat or a meal pass their sight. Everyone knew that.
“No,” He said, softly. “I’m not. Half-made, maybe. Are you-... her niece?” His eyes went, puzzled, from the young woman to the elderly one.
The young woman’s aunt threw her head back and laughed, shining laughter that filled the room all the way to the roof, and even the young woman felt an answering smile on her lips. “Oh, my, no, sweet boy. I’m just an old crone in the woods. Now, your tea’s just about ready, and here I am with a new guest to serve the extra to. Let’s make introductions, and you’ll stay for dinner, love,” She said, turning her eyes back to the young woman.
“But the blacksmith-”
“Will be right as rain by morning. First, though, you’ll stay for tea. My name is Llyrie, this is Del, and… Del, let me introduce this woman who would hit you with a pan if she could.” 
“She could,” The young man - Del - said. He smiled. It was faint, but there, and if it weren’t for his eyes she might have said it was a handsome smile indeed. “I wouldn’t, um, wouldn’t stop her.”
Despite herself, the young woman smiled at Del, and watched the tension in his wings relax, just a little. The kettle began to whistle as the water boiled within, and the old woman moved it to rest to the side, pouring in a generous palmful of dried herbs, leaves, and flowers to steep. Then she moved over to the bed, reaching out, and the young woman’s muscles tensed, her hand jerking forwards and then stopping itself, as she watched the old woman grip onto the not-fae’s taloned right hand as though he were perfectly normal, perfectly human. 
“You’re safe,” The old woman said, softly. “Nothing with wings has ever come to harm in my home, Del.”
The not-fae - the young man, wasn’t he, really? Just a young man, and yet all wrong and not a young man at all - nodded, slowly. “Please,” He whispered. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone.”
He sounded so… genuine. It didn’t seem like a trick at all.
The young woman did not lighten her grip on the pan.
“Del,” Her aunt said, patting the back of his hand while holding it, and his talons never touched her, “this young lady is one I have known her whole life. Come here, love, say hello.”
The young woman moved carefully, cautiously closer. She could see, now, the bright red blotches along Del’s cheeks that gave away his lingering fever, the shadows under the bright blue eyes that spoke of restless sleep or little sleep at all. This close, she could see that he was still trembling, just a little, even relaxed. 
“Hello,” She said, softly.
“Hello,” The young man said in return. “I’m-... I’m Del.”
“She said that.” He looked down, and a bit of wavy light brown hair fell over his eyes, hiding them from view. She leaned slightly forward, until he looked up again. It was… strange, to see inhuman eyes in a very human face, but if she really thought about it, they were… pretty, weren’t they? “Del, are you-... sure you’re not fae?”
“Pretty sure.” He had a hint of wry humor in his voice at that. He glanced over at one wing, then back at her. “Last anyone checked, anyway.”
She realized, all at once, that there were rings pierced through his wings in two places, just above his shoulders and again at the topmost join. Small brass rings ran through the piercing, and they clinked a little when his wings shifted. 
Who had done that? She’d never heard of fae piercing their own wings before. But if he wasn’t fae, maybe… maybe whatever he was did it. Maybe there was more than fae in the world with wings. 
“Will you… show me your teeth, Del?” She asked, voice low and quiet. Her auntie hissed at her about rudeness, but the boy obeyed immediately, baring his blunt, human teeth. She breathed out in relief at the same time her stomach twisted at the thoughtless, instant obedience. 
“Auntie, you said you… you found him sick?”
The old woman nodded, checking on the scent of the tea steeping in the kettle. “He was wandering the woods talking to no one. He’s lucky I found him first.”
“He sure is. My da and the others’d sooner shoot him than speak to him.” Del’s wings bristled, nervously, and she glanced back over at him, flushing slightly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t talk about you like you’re not right here, should I?”
“It’s all right,” He offered. “I’m used to it.”
“Still. Just ‘cause you’re used to rudeness doesn’t make it any less rude. And I haven’t told you what I’m called, either.” She held out her right hand, watched him hesitate and look down at his talons, and then she laughed and held out her left. He slowly reached his left hand - simply human, nothing else - out to shake hers. 
“I don’t know what you are,” She said, voice firm, “But you don’t seem like you’ll hurt me, and my auntie likes you. You’re Del?”
He nodded, slowly, eyes on her face in a way that made her feel strange, like her skin was stretched too tightly over her body, like her nerves were too close to the surface. “You can call me that, yes.”
“All right, I will. Nice to meet you, Del. I’m Laekna.”
---
Tagging Killan’s crew:  @astrobly​​ @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @slaintetowhump , @quirkykayleetam , @whumpallday , @whumppsychology, @doveotions, @broken-horn, @moose-teeth, @whumpfigure, @spiffythespook, @oceanthesarcasamfox,  @whump-only, @just-strawberry-jam(if you would like to be added to an OC’s tag list, please send your request via an ask! Those are easier for me to keep track of and I tend to lose requests in comments, reblogs, tags, or PMs!)
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Poop Sock
It’s November 14th , 2019. I had just woken up, and it was time for the usual morning pee. As I pull down my pants and go to sit down I brace myself for the cold steel metal that soon will be touching my bare skin. The initial shock of the brisk coolness fades, and my eyes gaze over to the side of the toilet, and I see a gray frayed sock that has been tied in a knot. I think to myself, “this must have been left here by someone before me. Yuck, that’s fucking gross.” I contemplate whether I should throw it away. I hope to myself that I won’t be here long enough for it to matter. Hopefully I will leave today, and this sock won’t matter. Why bother throwing it away? “No, I better just get it out my sight, plus I don’t want them to think I have something extra or that I am not picking up after myself.” I grab the sock between my pointer finger and thumb and the oh so familiar “this is fucking gross” scrunched up face is on full display. That’s weird, it’s heavy, what the hell is in here? I don’t want to know. I toss it in the trash, and hear it thud against the brown plastic bin. I sit down on the blue mat on the floor.
I haven’t cried much yet. I’m still in shock. How did I get here? Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I just play by the fucking rules? I hear the slamming of the thick steel door, and I hear the corrections officer yell, “Food! Top tier.” Ladies begin rushing down the stairs. It’s wave of orange jumpsuits that form a long line down one side of the commons area of Mod 13. Mod 13 is the women’s minimum-security housing for inmates. Definition of inmate: any of a group occupying a single place of residence especially: a person confined (as in a prison or hospital.) Inmate- Jenna West, 34, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, nurse, and now inmate. In jail, you are none of those other things, you are inmate. “Inmates line up for food, inmate meds are here, inmate line up for court, inmate you can use the phone, inmates you can shower, inmates it’s time for lights out.” You see, the corrections officers don’t know my story, they don’t really care. They are here to earn their paycheck and go home. They see me simply as another criminal, piece of shit, and deservedly here to serve out time for the deviant ways I have betrayed society. I stare at the women in line waiting for the slop that is to be served on scratched up, sometimes clean brown trays. They hold their brown cups in their hand hoping that by the time they get up to the front the juice won’t be gone. I use the term juice lightly, as it is a cup of water with a splash of flavoring. As they wait for their food they laugh, chat, braid each other’s hair, and seem oblivious to their current situation. It enrages me that they can be having a good time. Do they not realize this isn’t summer camp? We are in jail! “Bottom tier, let’s go.” I grab my cup and walk across the bright white floor to take my place in line. I am careful not to push my way in and try to remain unseen. That is until “Inmate! Are you forgetting something?” I don’t even look up; it doesn’t occur to me that she would be talking to me. “Hello?!, Inmate orange needs to be on.” I look down and I still have my brown t-shirt on. I feel like it’s the first day of school when you inevitably miss the memo on what’s what, and now you are the center of attention. “Sorry, I’ll go get it.” I quickly walk over to myself cell and grab my orange shirt and walk back to the line. I get my tray of food. It’s brown mystery meat. I’m told it is hamburger. A piece of white bread, a plastic spoon with ½ teaspoon of ketchup, a potato side, carrots, and cookie. I eat the cookie. The hamburger is completely inedible. The potatoes have no flavor. The carrots are cold. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway. I begin to think about my family. How worried my mom is. How mad my husband is. How clueless my kids are as to where Mommy is. I just want to be home. I want to be watching my two-year-old little girl playing with her toys, watching Pink Fong, and running to me for the occasional snuggle or kiss. I want to look outside and see my son, 10, walking down the hill from school. I want to greet him at the door and ask how his day is. I want to have some funny banter with my husband over texts. I want to give him a kiss when he comes home from work. I want to sit down on the couch with him and watch our shows. I want to sleep in bed next to him. Oh, a bed-I would give anything for a bed. I had dreams almost every night I was in jail about finding pillows in secret passageways. I just wanted a fucking pillow. All we are given is a 1-inch-thick blue mat with one end a little thicker for what one might call a pillow. It’s a stark contrast from my king size bed, with a 2in memory foam thick mattress toppers, Casper pillow, and down comforter. I don’t get a sweet tap on my shoulder at 2 am from my sweet Stella, asking if she can sleep with me. Instead, I lay awake most hours of the night counting the white bricks that make up my small cell, all 252 of them. I am anxious, I am sad, and I am defeated. During phone time, I call my mom just to have a small amount of comfort. She hears the pain and sorrow in my
voice. I know it’s selfish of me to call her, I know that calling her, and letting her hear me cry is painful, but I can’t help it. I need that comfort, I need to hear her voice, and I need a moment away from my reality. I call my husband, Casey, next. I ask if he has spoke to my lawyer, if he found out when I might get out, and I ask what he told Jaxson. His tone with me is firm, and his answers are concise. I don’t find much comfort in talking to him, as I know that he is angry with me. I’ve let him down. I’ve made him the sole caretake for our children for no one knows how long. I’ve placed my job in jeopardy. I’ve embarrassed him. There are few family members, and friends that know of my situation at this point, and he now has to tell them his wife, mother of his children is in jail so he might need some help with the kids. He tells me he told Jax, that Mom had to go on a work trip, and she is somewhere where there is no service. Jax asked, “Why would she just leave? Why wouldn’t she say goodbye? When will she be back.” These feelings my son had to feel because of my poor choices is just another ripple of many ripples in this giant ocean of the clusterfuck I have made of my life. The burden my husband had to bear is one of many he has had to endure because he married an addict. The pain and disappointment my mother and father felt is only worsened by images of their youngest daughter in jail away from her family, and there is nothing they can do to help.
I do find some comfort in that I don’t have a cellmate. I get the bottom bunk so I don’t have to try to hoist myself up on the top one. That comfort is quickly taken away on day two of my jail stint. Midday on November 14th a pretty brunette girl storms through the cell door into my cell. She says, “Hey, I am your roommate, can I have the bottom bunk? I just had a baby, and I can’t climb up there.” She could have given me any reason as to why she wanted the bottom bunk, and I would have conceded. She seemed like this wasn’t her first rodeo, and I wasn’t about to start any bad blood with someone I’d be in an 8X10 room with for the foreseeable future. Rachelle, had just been moved from the medical infirmary back to general population, “gen pop.” She had her baby only three days early. She gave birth under police custody, she spent 24 hours with her baby before she was shipped back to jail. I felt sad for her, and I felt angry for her. How can the system be so heartless that they rip a newborn baby from their mother just hours after birth? She clearly isn’t a murderer or armed robber; she is in minimum security. What could she have done that was so terrible? I’d later find out that she was caught shoplifting from a Thrift world Store. She was nearly 7 months pregnant at the time, and when they searched her, they found meth in her bra strap. They didn’t give her a bond because they wanted to ensure the baby had a fighting chance. She was to serve out the rest of her pregnancy in jail, and after the baby was born they would then decide her fate. This girl gave zero shits about anything. She quickly rummaged through her clothes- two orange pairs of shirts and pants, two underwear, two sports bras, and two pair of socks. The standard wardrobe for Douglas County inmates. She threw of her orange shirt, and through her brown shirt I could see two wet sports where her nipples would be. She was leaking, engorged, and in pain. She threw off her bra and exposed her bare breast, then asked me what I think she should do? You see on top of the emotional pain of not being with her newborn, she had to endure the pain of not being able to breastfeed therefore having engorged breasts that leaked constantly causing chapped nipples that chaffed against her sport bra. She tried to put socks and toilet paper between her skin and her clothing to ease the discomfort, but it was to no avail. I looked down quickly, and just said you need to just try to keep them dry. I told her that if she had some Chapstick that it might help with the chaffing. She swapped bras and grabbed a clean shirt and continued to unpack her bags and make herself at home. She raised hell about how dirty the cell was, and ranted, “this is fucking disgusting, how do people live like this?” She ran out of the cell to grab cleaning supplies. Cleaning supplies? I had no idea we could just go get cleaning supplies to make things a little more livable. I assured her had I known, I would have cleaned, and I told her I was hoping I was leaving later that day, so I didn’t see the point. But I picked up some supplies and assisted her with the cleaning of our humble abode. Once everything was in order she said, “Do you have any extra socks?” I replied, “No, only what they gave me, why?” “Because we need to make a poop sock.” What the hell is a poop sock I thought. Is it what she used to wipe her ass? Does she poop in it in and throw it away, or reuse it? My mind mulled over what in the actual fuck is a poop sock. Turns out a poop sock is what I had thrown away earlier. You see I had no idea that that poop sock was a gift. A glorious gift that one inmate bestowed on future inmates in order to lessen our suffering. She explained that a poop sock is when you take a bar of soap, and crumble it into many pieces, let it dry out, and then stuff it into a sock and tie a knot on the top to hold it all in. Then when you take a number two you beat the sock against the wall and shake it all around you. A dust of soapy freshness then fills the air. A poop sock is a jail made bathroom air
freshener, and it was genius. I walked over to the trash and fumbled through the dirty paper towels we had just used to clean and pulled out our poop sock. Relief and delight washed over Rachelle’s face. Turns out she was an avid poop sock user, as I would soon be choking on soap flake dust every time she went to the bathroom. She would bang that thing against the wall and violently shake all around her while she used the bathroom. I couldn’t help but giggle because she looked like a priest throwing holy water on someone the way she shook that gray ratty sock all over the place. Day two, and I was learning the jailhouse lingo, and already impressed with what these ladies could come up with. I later told my mom, well at least this experience builds character.
I ended up only spending 7 days in jail. Some people respond to that, “Oh my god, 7 days? How did you get through that? I would die.” While others, like people I was on drug court with, would reply, “Ah, 7 days, man, that’s nothing. I lost 7 years while I was in prison.” It’s all about perspective.
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