#i feel exactly the way i did shortly before quitting my jobs in the past lmao 😶

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i hate that i already told everyone how happy i was allegedly and that i was getting my shit together allegedly but now i realise that it was all hinging on this job and well. the illusion has crumbled! i remember how much i hate office jobs but also dont know what else to do and i remember why i have such issues holding down a job because i get burned out so easily! fuck! and i told too many people i intend on trying sobriety which. also not actually. sobriety would be great to get into fitness and cooking fresh again but! for that i need a fix routine and its not possible with my work schedule! i dont know what to do i wish i did not have to pay rent and shit so i can try out some stuff to find something that i can actually do. im right back where i was six years ago and four years ago and one year ago…

i had a week off two weeks ago and i was not really able to do much because of a minor surgery and i finally had the mind to read and i took so many walks and it was so nice and ever since i have not been able to shake the feeling things are not working out the way i thought they were. fuck i thought i was finally able to settle and work on myself and be secure but im just back where i was and i feel like now everyone is expecting me to get better and everyone thinks im in a much better place mentally and i feel like a huge disappointment because it was all an illusion.

and i feel so ungrateful and guilty because of all the women stuck in prostitution and i had the privilege to exit and get a posh job im in such a privileged position why cant i just be content and do my silly little job why do i feel so fucking depressed and like i want to scream and so demotivated. well i guess the world around has not changed either and we live in fucking depressing times. but why is it affecting me in a way i cant do my job and provide for myself. aggh

[andwordsarefutiledevicess]

press relations

stanford!artdonaldson x sportsjournalist!reader

summary: assigned to write a profile of stanford's rising tennis star, you get to know art better. much better.

warnings: smut, dry humping, b0ner alert, implied consent

a/n: this does have a *hint* of art x patrick x reader undertones at the end! any (constructive) feedback is appreciated :)

you get the message as you exit the lecture hall and head to the cafeteria for lunch. “other writers are busy. can you take the art donaldson profile?” reads the text from your editor. having written for the stanford daily as a sports reporter for the past year, you’re no stranger to turning a dull interview with a rather dim-witted football player into an oh-so-riveting piece. however, this is out of your comfort zone.

tennis is…boring. sure, you’d happily tagged along to a couple of tashi duncan’s matches, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to see an olympic-bound athlete in her prime, but it isn’t your ideal way to spend a saturday afternoon. 

and yet, that is exactly what you are doing. the donaldson interview is lined up for directly after his match with a ucla player. “he’s got a tight schedule, so we need to accommodate him,” said your editor when you questioned why you had to sit through a match and then manage to cram in an interview in the men’s fucking lockerroom. 

art donaldson is a year above you, living in the same dorm. you recognize most athletes at this point—in part because they’re constantly (obnoxiously) sporting team merch, and because of your job—but art is known by most for his friendship with tashi duncan. neither are particularly social, keeping their circle tight amongst fellow tennis players, both at stanford and professionals. 

it’s difficult not to stick out in the bleachers. while other players, including a brown-haired boy cheering quite loudly, observe the game, it’s by no means packed. as donaldson pauses for water after the first set, he catches your gaze, giving an awkward wave in acknowledgement as he wipes the sweat from his face. you silently pray that he knows you’re the reporter he’s supposed to speak to, and doesn’t just think you’re some crazed tashi duncan fangirl. 

his playing is statuesque, long limbs sweeping across the court (but not entirely stripped of the boyish energy that defined his success as a high school student). after beating his opponent 2-0, donaldson steps off the court, dramatically embraced by the brown-haired spectator, who you have since realized is his former doubles partner, patrick zweig, and you take this as a signal to get this interview started before he becomes swept up in celebrations. 

climbing down the bleachers, you see art duck down into the hallway, making his way into the locker rooms. in all your time as a sports reporter, you hadn’t had such an…unconventional… interview location, and you feel a bit sick as the sound of the shower draws closer. 

“art donaldson?” you say, standing just outside the open door of the locker room. 

“yeah” he calls back, as though he was expecting you, but not entirely welcoming the intrusion. the shower turns off, and the soft sound of his steps on the tiles echo. “well, come in,” he calls again. 

you step into the steam-filled space with your eyes directed down. “i understand you have physical therapy shortly, so i’ll try to keep this quick—,” you say, taken aback as you finally draw your eyes upward. he’s managed to pull on a pair of checkered boxers, fabric sticking to his still-damp body. 

you can’t imagine you look particularly composed, hair sticking to your face from the steam with a burning blush spread across your cheeks. you watch as art bites his cheek and awkwardly motions for you to sit on the bench across from him as he methodically changes the overgrip on his racket. 

“so,” you say, clearing your throat, “how did you first become interested in tennis?” he glances up from his task. “my parents needed someone to watch me, and my grandma was busy, so they stuck me in a local tennis camp. i doubt they realized that they were signing up for over a decade of tennis running my—and their—lives.”

you hum in agreement. “and what specific areas of your game are you hoping to improve on this season?” you follow up. his gaze becomes more intent—more focused. setting the racket to his side, art stands, before quickly realizing he’s still only boxer-clad. you stare at the opposite wall, hoping to save him the embarrassment, and you see him fumble to slip on shorts out of the corner of your eye. he clears his throat. “ – um – yeah, i’m trying to get faster on my feet. sorry, i—” he says, before you cut him off in protest. “no, no, i should have given you a moment to clean up after your match, it’s my fault,” you say, rising off of the bench awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. 

but with the lingering steam, and your downward gaze, your fumble to exit the locker room instead lands you into direct contact with his chest. “shit! sorry,” you exclaim, drawing your chin up. a wash of heat cascades from your head, nipples taut, despite the warmth of the room, as your body reacts to the sudden proximity. art is equally flushed, pink lips slightly parted and chest rocking as he concentrates on breathing deeply, trying to lower his racing heart. you can smell him, fresh with a hint of that post-game sweat, a droplet of water falling from a blonde curl. 

he brings a calloused hand to your hair, brushing it behind your shoulder, as if to ask permission. the slight nod and glaze of your tongue over your lips is enough for him to understand, his breath heavy against your face as your noses are close enough to touch. that final centimeter is finally closed, and it’s as though air rushes back into you while inhibition is tossed out. without thinking, your hair tangles into his mess of damp hair, and you feel his soft moan against your lips. you gasp as his hand grabs your ass, drawing you into contact with his erection (for how much of that interview was he hard?). 

“you—ah—you have physical th-therapy,” you say, breathless as he works his mouth down your jaw and neck. “just…five more minutes,” he says in between kisses, like a teenager wishing to sleep in, causing you to chuckle. bringing your left knee up, your hips are suddenly flush against his, and the new contact sends you both reeling, his cock twitching in his shorts. you tentatively rock, again, against his groin, and you both seem to realize that that hit the spot. pushing your back against a locker, art draws his groin against yours again, and again, his soft pants becoming near whimpers as your lips meet for a desperate, sloppy kiss. 

you’re lost in the rhythm the two of you have found, ignoring the rattle of the lockers with each thrust. fuck you’re embarrassingly close (that’s what a two month dry spell will do for you) but before you have to worry about coming too early, you hear his strangled voice in your ear. “ – f-fuck, s-sorry i’m close, was so pent up.” before you’re able to reply, your body has taken this as permission to let the orgasm wash over you at last. still reeling from your own orgasm, you feel the warm spread of art’s cum seep through the thin fabric of his shorts, as he continues to rut against you. 

bringing your arms up to hurriedly fix your now-tangled hair, you draw away from art. a fresh blush comes to your cheeks at the realization of how silly you feel, grinding like a pubescent teen. art seems tired, yes, but not embarrassed, slipping off his pants and boxers and replacing them with clean ones. before he’s got his wits back, you’re out the door, praying no one managed to overhear the encounter. to your dismay, patrick zweig, smug as ever, sits outside the locker room.

[princehrry-writings]

Legal Guardian

ugh this took way too long lol, but here it is!!! i forget exactly that sparked this but i thought it was a cute idea.

warnings: injuries (nothing major), hospitals, cursing, harry being a protective dad 🥺, talks about adoption and legal guardians, crying

wordcount: 2481

harry styles x reader, stepdad!harry x reader, stepdadharry x oc!stella

masterlist

Stella gets hurt and Harry is the only one there- but he has no legal jurisdiction…

.

.

.

It all happened really fast. Harry can’t even recall how it started, but he knew very well how it ended. A sobbing Stella strapped into her car seat as he raced to the emergency room, frantically calling Y/n who was in a different state on a work trip.

The 5 year old didn’t understand what was going on, she just knew she was hurting… really bad. And that she wanted her mommy and daddy.

The traffic seemed to be working against him, getting in his way at the most inconvenient times, all the while he was trying to console his weeping daughter, crying out “Daddy it hurts so bad!” effectively shattering his heart into a million little pieces.

Stella had been playing happily in the backyard at home, showing off her wonderful dance moves to Harry who watched with an adoring smile on his face, taking little videos to send to his fiance, when suddenly she was laying on the ground, clutching her ankle, and crying for him to come get her. He rushed into action, not having seen her take the fateful step into what must have been a hole in the ground or something.

Screeching into the hospital car park, he stops somewhere he obviously wasn’t supposed to but he couldn't care less. His mind was racing. What if she broke her ankle? Or tore a ligament? What if she has to get surgery? All of this is what he worries about as he flings the back door of his car open, trying his best to appear calm for his daughter (but it’s not really working), and scoops her carefully into his hold, bringing her inside and shouting for someone to please help him.

A few nurses rush to his side, asking him different questions and asking for someone to “Page Dr. Robbins, tell her we need a peds consult.”

Stella is whisked away from him and before he can start to follow after her, a hand is placed on his chest, stopping him in his place.

“Sir, we can’t have you in the room with her. You’re not on her file as a legal guardian!” A doctor tells him. In that moment, he sees nothing but red, steam pouring out of his ears.

“The hell I can’t, I’m her father! I’m not going to let her sit in there all alone while strangers poke and prod at her!” He all but yells at the man. Harry is not violent. He really isn't. But he’s not afraid to lay somebody on their ass when it comes to his girls. With kindness or course. And maybe a black eye.

From the room she was taken into he can hear her crying for him.

“Wan’ my daddy! Daddy!” Harry didn’t think his heart could break any further than it already had but he was proven wrong by the ache in his chest that only grew stronger the longer he was kept away from his lovebug.

“Doctor, respectfully- if you don’t move the hell out of my way, I will move you myself. That is my daughter, and my fiance is in a different state right now on a business trip so I am the only parent she has right now. If you try to keep me from my child I will take legal action against the hospital and sue for everything you’re worth. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Harry is seething, trying to move past the man in the white lab coat and light blue scrubs. Again, he is stopped.

“I will call security, sir!”

“DADDY!” Stella is now screeching, her little voice hoarse from all the yelling and crying.

“Don’t you fucking hear that? She needs me, and you’re telling me I can’t go be with her! What the hell kind of doctor are you?” Harry is in the man's face, pointing at him vehemently. He doesn’t care that people are starting to watch the scene. Doesn’t care that some people have recognized him and are recording the ordeal. Let the people see him fighting for his family. He doesn’t give a rat's ass if his “image” takes a hit. His daughter is on the line and he won’t back down.

“She’ll be fine-”

“No she won’t! Go ahead and call security. My daughter needs me and you’re not going to stop me from being in that room with her.” With that he pushes past the doctor (who must be an intern or something with how he’s handling this situation) and rushes into the room where his baby is screaming for him. He’s at her side in a matter of seconds, wiping the tears from her face, peppering kisses onto her head, petting her wild hair back from her face, just consoling her in any way that he can.

How fucking dare they try to keep him from her, especially when she’s in a state like this.

“It’s ok baby girl, daddy’s here now. I’ve got you. You’re ok, you’re ok!” He mumbles into her hair, doing his best to stay out of the way of the people examining her but still close enough so she knows he’s right there with her.

Little tears still streamed down her face but she was much calmer now, her breathing more even and body less tense.

“Mr. Styles we’re bringing in the portable x-ray to take a look at her ankle, so you’re going to need to wear this.” He nods and takes the vest given to him, putting it over his shoulders like he sees the others do. A similar article is placed over Stella, who is clinging to Harry’s hand, fearing that she’s going to have to be without him again. But he promises he isn’t going anywhere.

As they’re taking the x-ray his phone starts ringing in his pocket and he checks to see that it’s Y/n calling him back.

“H, what’s wrong, is she ok?” Her panicked voice rushes out as soon as the call connects.

“We’re in the ER right now and she’s getting an x-ray to see what’s going on with her ankle-”

“You’re in the room with her right? She’s not alone?”

The little shards of his heart keep breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as her voice breaks.

“Yeah, I’m right next to her. Don’t worry m’love, she’s not alone!” He glared at the doctor that tried to keep him out as he said that, letting him know he hadn’t forgotten.

“I’m gonna facetime you so I can see her.” She said and he nodded, waiting for it to come through. When it did he quickly accepted it, seeing the love of his life’s face on the screen, with her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears so she didn’t freak out her baby.

“Stell, mumma’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you.”

“Hi baby girl!” Y/n said as soon as Harry held the phone so Stella could see her mom. The little girl's tear stained cheeks looked exactly like her moms, and her heart broke for her baby.

“Hi mumma,” Stella pouted into the camera, clutching onto her daddy as tight as her little hand could. Harry was a little uncomfortable but he would take this over not being in here at all.

“How do you feel, baby? You ok?” She asked.

“My foot hurts and they wouldn’t let daddy in here and I was scared, but he’s here now so I’m ok.” The little girl rambled off. Y/n almost missed how she said they wouldn’t let Harry in the room but when it finally registered, she was fuming. Absolutely, royally pissed.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t daddy in there?” Stella shrugged and looked up at Harry for an answer. He brought the phone back so he could see her after looking around at the doctors in the room, all doing their job and pretending they weren’t listening to this conversation, but a few of them winced when Y/n asked her question.

“Some bloke tried to keep me out of the room while Stella was being examined but she was on the verge of a whole breakdown. It was like Disneyland in Paris all over again.” He said, referencing the time Harry took his girls to Disneyland while they were in Paris and Stella got separated from her mom and dad. She had never not been able to see at least 1 of her parents before. Needless to say… she didn’t handle it very well. Screaming, crying, and hyperventilating (which freaked her out even more- causing her to scream louder and cry harder) ensued very shortly, disturbing every person around her. But it made it easy for them to find her and she spent a very very long time clutching her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck, not letting him set her down for anything. That was an interesting trip to the bathroom …

“Why would they try to keep you out of the room? You’re her father!” Y/n was on the verge of popping a blood vessel. Of course the one time her baby really needs her, she’s hours away.

“Uh, Mr. Styles, I’m so sorry to interrupt! But the x-ray is complete. There’s no break, it looks like a sprain at worst. Also, about why my intern was saying you weren’t allowed in the room, not that I was listening to your conversation, with ped’s cases we typically only allow legal parents or guardians in the room and your name isn’t anywhere on her file or on her records so he was just trying to follow safety protocols. He didn’t go about the situation as well as he should have because we always want to make sure our patient has what they need and that was obviously you- but that is the reason why you initially weren’t let into the room. You’re not a legal parent or guardian. Based on your situation- you’re legally considered a step-parent and that title doesn’t come along with any legal jurisdiction.” Dr. Robins explained, in quite a few words Harry thinks, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just sits and realizes that while for the better part of a year and a half, he’s been calling himself Stella’s dad but the whole he’s not been anything… not legally anyway.

Y/n realizes this too and makes a mental note to call their lawyers to do something about that.

“That makes sense… Thank you, Dr. Robbins! I have her mum on the phone, but you knew that, so if there’s anything else I legally can’t do, she’ll have to take care of it like thi-”

“Mr. Styles, we won’t tell if you don’t! Anything else that needs to be signed, we’ll just go ahead and have you do it. Save the hassle for everyone.” Dr. Robbins interrupts him and he smiles, silently thanking her.

“Daddy, what's a legal guardian?” Stella asks after a quiet moment.

“A legal guardian is someone who takes care of you because the law says they can. So because I didn’t help mumma make you and I came into your life a little later, I’m not a legal guardian of you. Not yet anyway.” He mumbles the last part but Y/n catches it.

“Does everyone have a legal guardian?” She hiccuped, rubbing at her eyes with the hand that wasn’t clutching Harry’s.

“At one point yeah, but once you get older you don’t need one anymore because you can take care of yourself.”

The girl pauses, thinking about her daddy’s words before muttering “Don’t wanna take care of myself. Wanna stay with you and mumma forever.”

All the little shards of his heart slowly start to piece back together.

“I want you to stay with me and mumma forever too lovebug.” He cooes. Y/n’s eyes light up, her gaze filled with adoration for her little family.

. * .

*

“The documents are all drawn up Mrs. Styles, everything is ready for your husband to sign.”

“Thank you so much Ben!”

. * .

*

“Baby, c’mere. Wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah mommy?”

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to quell the tears she could already feel threatening to fall. Her newly wed husband sat beside her on the couch, running his hand along her back and squeezing her shoulder and letting her know he was there if she needed him.

“Do you remember when you and Daddy had that conversation about legal guardians?” The woman asked, pulling her baby into her lap, brushing her hand over the girl's hair affectionately.

“Uhhh, kinda.” She murmured, curling into her mom.

“Do you remember what a legal guardian is?” Y/n rephrased, hoping to jog the girl's memory. Stella nodded and when prompted by her mother explained that “It’s someone who takes care of you until you're old enough to take care of yourself.”

“That’s right baby, very good!”

“And do you remember when we were at the hospital and that doctor was being mean, not letting Daddy into the room with you?” Harry chimes in, scooting closer to his girls. She nodded with a roll of her eyes and a huff of breath, causing a little giggle to erupt from her parents. She really is her mothers daughter.

“Didn’t like him.” She mumbles.

“Do you remember why they didn’t let him into the room?” Y/n asks, knowing she should probably get to the point before her little one checks out and gets bored.

“Cause daddy’s not my legal guardian.” Stella huffs again, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling further into her mom.

“Do you want him to be?”

Stella’s quiet for a moment, tapping her little finger on her chin like she’s thinking hard. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? You want that baby?” Harry asks, pulling her into his lap. The girl wraps her arms around his neck and lays her head on his shoulder, nodding.

“Yeah, Daddy. Want you to be able to come to the doctors with me.” She mumbles sleepily.

The tears Y/n had been fighting off finally broke through, despite her efforts. It’s official. Harry is going to adopt Stella and they would be a family in every sense of the word. No one would be able to take Harry's little girl away from him. All he had to do was sign the paper. Harry felt tears spring to his eyes as well, smoothing his hand along his baby’s back.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that…” He says, squeezing her a little tighter. Y/n snaps a quick picture before she snuggles into them.

“Love you Mommy, love you Daddy.” She murmurs before falling asleep in Harry's arms. Something that isn’t new, but feels different now for some reason. Things felt a little more official and he hadn’t even signed the papers yet.

[navalcriminalimagines]

Hi!! It's me AGAIN! 😝 May I request "OH, you're jealous!" with Gibbs? I love jealous Gibbs so much!! 🤭👀❤️

I love writing jealous!Gibbs!! Thank you for your request! This took an unexpected turn, I hope you'll like it! 👀❤️

Warnings: smut, dom!Gibbs, blowjob

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Oh, you're jealous

You met Leroy Jethro Gibbs a couple of years ago. You had just started as an FBI Agent, and you were Tobias Fornell's partner. The case with NCIS was your first interagencies encounter, and not on your life would you have thought about meeting the most amazing man.

But you did and you spent the next year hoping something would happen with him. Every time you heard about NCIS through a case, you made sure to be involved. It's only after Diane's wedding with Victor that things finally took the turn you were waiting for.

Tobias had a hard time seeing his ex-wife and mother of his daughter getting married again, especially after he learnt that she had cheated on him with that Victor. After the wedding, you invited him for drinks but he told you he already planned on getting at Gibbs's house and he told you to join.

You did, and by the end of the night, Gibbs and you were making out in his basement while Tobias had passed out upstairs on the couch.

That was a year ago and since then, your relationship with Gibbs has been amazing. Unfortunately, you don't see each other as much as you'd liked to. You're both committed to your jobs and you knew about your boyfriend's past. You don't want to pressure him into anything, it may scare him away.

There are actually good sides of not seeing each other much; when you and Gibbs manage to get together, you just enjoy one another's company and there are no fights. What would you two argue about anyway?

You can't say you and him are clearly dating, since you never used that word and actually, you never talked about what the relationship is and where it's going. Eventually, you'll have the talk, but not for now. You don't want to ruin it by asking it to be serious or planning a future.

Finally, a new joined case came in. Gibbs called Tobias and quickly, you two were driving to the NCIS headquarters.

Of course, Gibbs's team doesn't know anything about whatever is going on between you two. To be fair, Tobias was suspicious, but you - or Gibbs - never told him anything.

When you arrive in the bullpen, you can see Tony DiNozzo's face lighten up. He greets you with a huge smile, clearly avoiding Tobias. "Y/N, it's nice to see you again! This case just became very interesting," he winks at you and you chuckle. Tony has been very flirty with you for the beginning, and if you hadn't had a crush on Gibbs at the very first second, you probably would've hooked up with the Very Special Agent.

"Nice to see you too, Tony. I like working with you, guys," you smile and your eyes finally settle on your 'boyfriend', sitting at his desk, already talking with Tobias. He doesn't greet you at all, instead he just asks his team to do a sit-rep.

As you're staring at the screen and listening to McGee, you can feel Tony's body on your left and Gibbs's on your right. Gibbs's fingers are gently brushing yours and you can feel shivers running down your spin.

"You cold, Y/N?" Tony whispers in your ear. "Want my sweater?" he offers and before he knows it, a hand slaps the back of his head. "I'm just being nice, boss," he complains. Boss doesn't answer.

Tim finishes the sit-rep, and orders are given. Of course, Gibbs asks you to be with him and the two of you are on your way down to Autopsy. As soon as the elevator's doors close, Gibbs's mouth is all over you.

"Hey," he finally greets you.

"Took you long enough," you say between two kisses. He smiles against your mouth, ready to kiss you one more time but the ride is over and the doors open.

After that stop in Autopsy, Ziva tells Gibbs that the BOLO they sent gave results and they need to get going. He tells her to go with Fornell. As you need to check a few things in the FBI database, you settle at an empty desk with your laptop and get into work.

Quickly, you notice someone putting a coffee next to you, "Latte, two sugars, am I right?" Tony asks.

"Wow, no one brings me my coffee at the FBI. I'm gonna need Fornell to steal you," you smile at the Agent.

"I'd rather have you joining us. I'm sure Gibbs would be okay," he says. "Although, if I break rule 12 again, I'm a dead man,"

"Wait!" you think for a moment, "Rule 12 is--never date a coworker, right?" Tony nods. "Very presumptuous of you, Tony DiNozzo," you grin at him.

Not that you enjoy flirting with DiNozzo - even if it feels nice that a handsome man like him is hitting on you - but you can see Gibbs's pissed off face in the corner of your eye and you do enjoy that. "Well," as he's practically sitting on 'your' desk, Tony leans over you and whispers, so no one can hear, "You're pretty, I'm pretty. We can make pretty good things together, don't you think?"

You only have time to softly laugh, since Gibbs got up and headslaps DiNozzo again. "Quit flirting at work, got it, boss,"

You watch Gibbs walking to the elevator while Tony puts his hair back in place, "We'll continue this tonight, if you want to join us? We're celebrating Ziva's citizenship at a bar,"

"I'd love that,"

Gibbs comes back half an hour later with a fresh coffee. You can see on his face he’s clearly pissed but you decide not to do anything about it for now.

* * * * *

The rest of the day went smoothly. There was no big breakthrough in the case, for a moment you thought that the celebration might be canceled. But to everyone’s surprise, Gibbs and Fornell decide to call it a night. “We won’t be able to get anything done before tomorrow morning anyway,” Fornell says.

The NCIS team didn’t need much to start packing their things. As you’re putting your laptop in your bag, Abby, Jimmy and Ducky appear in the bullpen, “Celebration night!” Abby exclaims, “Gibbs, Fornell, you’re joining?”

“What are we celebrating?” Your boss asks.

“Ziva David, being officially a citizen of the United States of America!” Jimmy explains, wrapping his arm around Ziva’s shoulders.

Fornell looks over his shoulder, down to Gibbs. “You going?”

“Pass,”

Then, Fornell puts his eyes on you, “You?”

“Yup, Tony offered me to join. If anyone minds,”

“Of course not!” Abby happily grabs your arm and walks you to the elevator. You don’t have time to give one last look at Gibbs, as you’re all taking off to the bar.

Only Fornell and Gibbs remain in the bullpen. “You sure you don’t want to keep an eye on DiNozzo?” Fornell teases his best friend.

“Fornell, if you want to go, just--leave,”

“Fine, I’ll protect her myself,” he says, “Unless I get too drunk and don’t see them sneaking out to the bathroom,”

Gibbs growls before standing up, “I hate you,”

* * * * *

At the bar, you and the team got into a booth in the back. Of course, Tony made sure to be right next to you and Abby was on your other side. You all ordered your drinks and when the waiter brought them, you toasted, “To Ziva!” everyone says.

You have barely swallowed the first sip of the Champagne when you see Gibbs and Fornell entering the bar. Abby sees them too and calls their names. “I don’t know what you told him, Fornell, but I’m so glad to convince him to come,” Ziva confesses. It really means a lot to her that all of her team - her other family - is here to celebrate.

Even if he joined, Gibbs is being himself and doesn’t talk much with anyone, except some quick exchanges with Ducky. He’s sitting across the table from you, and you can see his eyes darkening as Tony whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle. He drinks his second bourbon in one swallow and goes to the counter to order another one. You excuse yourself to Tony, and join Gibbs.

“You okay?” you ask him, innocently.

“Perfect,” he mutters.

“Wanna spend the night at my place, tonight?” you whisper in his ears, gently nipping his lobe.

“Why don’t you ask DiNozzo?” he answers.

"Oh, you're jealous!" you exclaim with a chuckle, as the bartender puts the glass in front of Gibbs. His hand grips on the glass hard, his knuckles are turning white.

“Why would I be jealous? We’re not dating,”

This sends you off, you bit your bottom lip to avoid shouting in the middle of a bar. You take one deep breath to remain calm and answer, “Of course. I wonder what you’ve been doing for the past year, if not dating,”

Even with the dim light, Gibbs can see your cheeks turning red from anger. He shouldn’t have said this, because obviously, he has strong and deep feelings for you, but he hates to admit that he’s indeed...jealous. “Maybe I’ll indeed ask DiNozzo. Or maybe I’ll ask a stranger. Or--Or maybe, I’ll ask DiNozzo and a stranger,”

You’re about to leave him here when he grabs your wrist, ever so gently. You can see that his face had softened a bit. Then his hand moves from your wrist to your hand and his fingers intertwine with yours. Gibbs starts to walk away, taking you with him. He doesn’t say a word until he reaches his car. He opens the door for you, “Are we really sneaking out?” you ask.

“Just get in,” he orders, along with smack on your ass.

This gesture sends something right down to your core. You smile and get in his truck, shortly followed by him.

The parking lot is dark, the car is only facing trees and bushes. But you don’t have time to overthink what’s going on, as Gibbs’s lips crash on yours. He immediately asks for access with his tongue, which you happily grant him. One of his hands gets under your top, feeling your skin under his fingers. It keeps getting higher, until he cups one of your breasts and squeezes. You moan in his mouth, and your nails scratch on his scalp. He growls at the feeling, and quickly grabs your hips to make you sit on his lap. “You seriously want to do this in the car?” you ask, but it seems obvious as you can feel him getting hard.

“I want you to make yourself forgiven,”

His blue eyes are dark with lust. You know exactly what that means. You haven’t experienced the dominant side of Gibbs yet and god, is it turning you on. You can feel yourself getting soaking wet in your panties. You approach your lips to his to kiss him again but he only lets them brush. “Your mouth should be busy somewhere else,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” you agree and work on his belt.

You don’t know if he’s ever done something like this before, but his painful erection lets you know how turned on he is. You give him a few strokes, feeling some precum on your hand. He groans under your touch and then, you bend your head over to lick the head of his cock, tasting him. “Fuck!” he mutters. You play with the head for a moment before taking him inside your mouth.

As you blow him, Gibbs has one arm stretching over the seat and his other hand is settled in the back of your neck, guiding you. You can feel him grabbing your hair into his fist from time to time. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” he praises you and you hum in response, with his cock still inside your mouth. It sends shivers down his spine, and he bucks his hips, making his length go as deep as possible inside your throat. When he hits the back of your throat, Gibbs lets out such a huge moan, people in the bar may have heard him.

“Who does this mouth belong to?”

You relish him briefly, “You.” you answer.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Now, make me cum in that pretty mouth of yours,”

You go back to your oral ministrations and quickly, Gibbs is coming inside your mouth, shooting his load inside your throat, as your name leaves his lips in the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard. You couldn’t be any more turned on at this very moment. As he’s catching his breath, you make a big show of swallowing every drop of him.

Finally, he grabs the back of your neck a bit roughly to make you kiss him. He can taste himself on you and from the sound you’re making, he understands that you love that side of him. “I’m not done with you,” he says, brushing his lips against yours. “We’re going back inside, like nothing happened, but if you keep flirting with DiNozzo, or anyone else, I’ll deny you for such a long moment, you’ll beg me to shot you,”

You may be crazy, but this makes you want to piss him off a little more.

[katierosedreams2]

Money for nothing

How could this happen to me? I can’t believe I lost my job! I mean, it wasn’t my dream job and I never did make much money. I worked at a small woman’s fashion store. I know I know, but times were tough, and they were willing to hire me. No, I’m not gay or anything, and I didn’t know a thing about women’s fashion. But the ladies there were super nice and I became really close friends with them. 

I’m a really skinny guy, and my body is quite feminine. I’ve always been a little self-conscious about it. I think it’s gotten in my way with the few girlfriends I’ve had in the past. I always realize just how much I look like them, then I start getting depressed and not feel like enough of a man, then I get distant, then we break up. 

To be fair, I’ve only dated two girls before. The first one we didn’t even go all the way, and the second one we only actually had sex a few times. So I haven’t had much luck with the ladies. But when I started working at this little fashion store, being friends with the girls there is the closest I’ve gotten to women, to anyone really. I’m quite an introvert and I haven’t really had many friends in my life. And these wonderful women took me in as one of their own.

Most of the girls there were around my age, early 20’s, except the owner, Camille. She is a beautiful, fit, and very fashionable woman in her mid 40’s. Her body was stunning and she aged like wine. She only seemed to get even prettier every day in the 3 years I worked there. 

I got the job shortly after high school when my mom told me that her relationship with the guy she was seeing was getting serious, and that in a little while she was going to be moving out of the country with him. I needed to get a job so I could live on my own. That’s why I took a job at the first place I could, so I could start saving money. It was in a great location and the starting pay was above minimum wage, so I didn’t care that it was just a bunch of trendy girly clothes, purses, shoes, and things. 

I worked there for a few months, saving every penny I could before my mom left. I was getting worried because the rent for an apartment is so expensive, I didn’t think I could afford it! Fortunately, most of the other girls were in a similar situation and Becky, who had become my best friend, was willing to share an apartment with me! Living with her was great! We got along so well! Not too long after we started to live together, we became truly best friends! We both agreed our friendship was the strongest, deepest, and most meaningful we had ever had with someone else! She and I made a perfect pair! I was an only child, so it was kind of what I thought having a sister might be like.

She was so kind and caring, but also funny and teased me a bunch. We got along great. She is an absolutely stunning woman, and I would have loved to have dated her. But I think she saw me as gay or something, she clearly just wanted to be friends and I didn’t want to ruin that. 

She would tease me about my girly figure and feminine features. Often jokingly call me sis, girl, princess, and sissy . And then one day, getting out of our shared shower, I didn’t have a towel. I thought I could run to my room naked without her seeing. But that didn’t exactly go how I thought. She saw me naked! She couldn’t stop giggling at the small size of my penis. She said I looked like a flat-chested girl with a baby’s dick! I always knew I wasn’t big, but it was quite humiliating to have the beautiful woman laugh at me about how small I was. Oddly enough though, I wasn’t upset with her at all about it. I kind of understood. 

From that day on, she no longer called me by my name, Sam, it was only Samantha. And then, the next day at work, that’s what all the girls called me. Apparently Becky told them, they all thought it was really funny. They even changed my name tag. I didn’t like it, but I was just too shy and embarrassed to say a thing. So I became Samantha.

Besides, it seemed loving and playful. I became so close to those girls and I really started to trust, appreciate, and admire them. I didn’t really have any other friends, so I hung out with them exclusively outside of work too. They would talk to me about all sorts of gossip and would take me shopping with them. They taught me about women’s fashion. I really learned so much about it. They taught me how to care for my skin and what face routine to use every night. Also, what body lotion to use, and that I looked SO much better with no body hair, not that I had much. So I was always completely shaved. I also learned how to keep my nails looking nice and would go with them to the salons. That’s where I learned how to style and care for my long hair too.

 They even helped me completely re-do my wardrobe. Most of the stuff they picked out seemed kind of feminine to me. I felt I looked like a girly girl who was trying to dress kind of like a boy. And some of the stuff was from places like Pretty Little Thing, which don’t even make men’s clothes! It was stuff like crop tops, white booties with a high chunky heel, or flared leather pants with no pockets! My little dicks so so tiny that with the new underwear they got me, I don’t even have a bump in the front! Like I have nothing there! And the pants also showed off the fact that I have a very perky, very girly butt. Since most of my pants had no pockets, I had to carry a “man bag” but I feel like they just look like women’s purses. They even got me to replace all of my underwater with what I could swear were panties and thongs! 

I voiced my concerns about the "girly" clothes, but they said it was the “it” thing in fashion, girls love it, and that it all looked great on me. I didn’t have time to learn about men’s fashion with how much I was learning about women’s. They said that kind of crossover is normal and I shouldn’t worry. That these ARE the clothes I should be wearing! I guess they were right, I get lots of compliments on my “cute” outfits all the time from the ladies who come into the store. Or the girls I would pass by when I was out with the girls from work. Even guys hit on me, so I must look good!

Once I turned 21, I would also go to clubs with them. I always kind of felt a little out of place being surrounded by all of these sexy girls in slutty outfits dancing around me, with me being the only guy. I also did not try to hit on any of them because they were my friends. They would tease me about going and asking people to dance. Most of the time, it would be some hot guy one of them would suggest, and it always got a laugh from all the other girls. I was just one of the girls. They would always tease me that I should just put on a dress and heels, do my make-up, and join them! That I would fit right in and that I would get so much cock! Always followed by a lot of laughter.

Last Halloween I finally caved and agreed to let them dress me up for a party we went to. I was shocked that I looked exactly like a girl, a really sexy girl too! I was in tall clear stripper "fuck me" pumps as the girls called them. Black stockings, a super tight black leather micro skirt that hardly covered the bottom of my very pearky girly ass! A small leather bando that showed off my mid drift and the fact I have an hourglass figure. I loved like a slutty, small-chested bombshell! My makeup was super dramatic with extra long fake lashes and dark eye shadow and mascara, a very sexy smokey eye! I realized I had such big, sexy, girly lips with the light pink lipstick I had on. Dick sucking lips is what Becky called them, and it was impossible to have them suggest anything else from the extra glossy lip gloss they had me constantly reapplying. My hair was styled with big sexy curls and on top were placed cute leather bunny ears. That way, everyone knows it's just a bunny costume. I looked like a man's dream girl! Somehow, for the first time in my life, I even felt sexy! 

I was surprised just how many real girls complemented me on how I looked. Most of them were shocked when Becky told them I was actually a boy. She would then say “Well, kind of a boy, just a very very tiny one!” As she would place her hand over my skirt where my tucked up little dick was. Of course, this caused them all to laugh and get some kind of response like “I’m not surprised!” “That’s OK, she doesn’t look like a boy anyways!” “She has a great girly ass too!” “Well, If you look like that you could never please a woman, you might as well be one and please a real man!” “Girl, with lips that plump and sexy no guy would even care about that!” “That explains everything!” “That’s perfect, it won’t get in the way for the real men!” 

It was totally humiliating to hear what these super sexy, slutty dressed girls thought of me. But not as humiliating as what all the men thought of me. I’ve never been hit on so much in my whole life! It was like every guy wanted to stick their dick in me! My ass was red from how many times it was slapped and grabbed! It was scary but also kind of exciting to be objectified so much! I felt so small, weak, vulnerable, and submissive next to all of these big real men when I looked exactly like a slutty girl! I didn’t really do much to stop them. I was too scared to!

The girls at work loved to talk about that night for weeks. They teased me so much, they said I was made to be a girl! Working there I learned a lot about women’s fashion, and how to care for clothes, kind of how to be a girl. I became quite a great employee. And Camille would always say how impressed she was, that I must have been born the wrong gender. I got so good at it that it was often my job to pick the outfits to style the mannequins in. 

About a month ago Becky told me that the rich guy she was seeing,Brian, wanted her to move in with her. I was really happy for her! But I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay the rent. I did the math and after talking to Camille, if I worked a few more extra hours overtime, I could make just enough money to cover it. That also helps cover a little for Becky leaving, so she agreed. I was feeling pretty good about it, confident that I wasn’t going to need to get a new job.

Then today, the day after Becky moved out, when I showed up to work Camille told me she had gotten a job offer at Gucci as a designer. It was too good for her to pass up, so she’s going to close the business. I was going to be without a job within a month! And with Becky being gone, I don’t know how I’m going to pay rent!

I was texting Becky as well as talking with the other girls at the shop, trying to figure out what to do for a job. Two of the girls were offered jobs at some other fashion shops, but the rest told me to meet up with them and Becky after work for a coffee.

It was a long day of worry, but I just dove into my work and just focused on skirts and heels, and how to make a perfect outfit. After work, I walked with the girls to the local coffee shop and met Becky there. She felt so bad for us, but mostly for me. She’s very supportive, a truly great friend, they all are! 

As I expressed my worry about what to do to make money, the girls told me about a way I could make lots of easy money. They told me that all of them have been cam girls for a while now, and that they are actually making tons of money. They just had their part-time jobs at the shop so their families wouldn’t judge them. They said that it’s super easy! They just dress up sexy, and play with themselves or their dildos, something they were already going to do! They just let guys on the internet watch, and they pay a lot just to get to do that! If they have a request, they pay a lot more on top of that. It’s like money for nothing! 

I was shocked to hear all of this! I guess it makes sense, they are all so sexy. I guess most guys would pay to watch them do that! But I wasn’t sure how that applied to me. They told me that on the website they work out of, there are subsections for specific kinks. That sissy cam girls is one of them, and is pretty popular. The more like a girl you look, and the smaller your dick, the better you’ll do! So I should do really well! One of the girls was saying how she knows a sissy girl who makes thousands off of just one streaming. All I have to do is dress up like a girl, dance sexually, touch myself, and men will give me money!

It seemed too good to be true, plus that it’s totally gay! I also could never pass as a sissy girl anyway. The girls thought my objections were silly. They reminded me of Halloween, and the fact that I have a naturally girly body as well as a super tiny cock. I just need to use my knowledge of girls' fashion, use some makeup, and just act like a slutty girl. They said I’m so pretty and feminine that most people already mistake me for a girl. 

I wasn’t sure about all of this. It was really overwhelming. They sent me a link to the website and told me to think about it. Becky said that she had forgotten as few things at the apartment. She said I was small enough that everything should fit. Just give it a try!

I do need the money. But when I expressed it seems kind of gay to dress like a girl and try to turn on men so much they cum. They just asked what's wrong with being so sexy that someone wants to fuck you? That someone wants to use you for their pleaser? So much so that they can’t stand it and the cum to the thought of you! What’s wrong with taking advantage of guys like that? Who cares if it’s gay! It’ll make you money.

I really had to think about it. I was convinced I wasn’t going to do it. However, that night when I got home, I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. It’s not really gay if I don’t do anything with a guy, right? And I do need the money. I walked into Becky's old room and saw the stuff she had left behind. It was a short white skirt, a green crop top, some lingerie, and a sexy pair of heels. She has also left some makeup behind. 

I thought to myself, well I’ll just try the stuff on, I doubt it will even fit. Well, it did, perfectly. I was amazed. I felt pretty. Halloween was the only other time I have worn a skirt before. I hated to admit how much I liked it. I felt so pretty! And the heels I slipped on felt great, so sexy! It seems easy for me to walk in really tall heels. I noticed this on Halloween too. It’s kind of like some of the shoes the girls have bought me, just taller. They also made my ass stick out and sway my hips as I walked around the apartment. After a few minutes of just walking around, feeling feminine and girly in my outfit, I strangely felt at home. 

I decided to try some makeup. I didn’t really know what I was doing but I had watched Becky enough times to have a rough idea.  It wasn’t great and I hate to admit it, but I did look like a girl. I actually felt sexy for the second time in my life. The first was when I let the girls dress me up for Halloween. Why do I feel sexy when I look like a girl?!

I decided to just see how it all felt and walked around my apartment for a while. I even made a small dinner completely dressed. After watching a little TV, I decided just to look at the website. No harm in that. It was super helpful and easy to use, and before I really thought about what I was doing, I had created a content creator account. 

I decided I’d try it once. No one needs to know. And if I make no money, I would delete it and move on looking for a real job. I double checked how I looked in the mirror, and scheduled my first ever cam session. I had no idea how it worked, or even who would show up. As I waited I felt both nervous and excited. I looked around my room, and realized it was a bit of a mess. I hurried to clean it up. When I was down on my knees, I saw my reflection in my mirror. I looked like a pretty girl. Something overtook me and I felt compelled to send a pic to Becky. I felt I should let her know I was going to try it. 

The second I sent it I regretted it. She’s totally going to think I’m gay now! I didn’t have time to worry about that. I finished cleaning my room and sat down in front of my computer. I looked at the girl on the monitor. I was shocked it was me.  I got a reply from Becky “Yay! You go girl! Make those big cocks cum princess! I can’t wait to hear all about it! Whoo! Make that money Samantha!”

That made me freak out and want to stop it, but just then the first guy showed up in chat. And along with him, $2, his cost to watch. I couldn’t believe it! Then another, then two more, before I knew it, like 15 guys were watching me and $30 was in my account! Well, that’s more than I would make in an hour, I thought! I started to dance as sexy as I could. I tried to move just like I’ve seen girls do, but I was really unsure what to do.

“This chick is hot, but let’s see some action!” Was the first comment. “Sup babe” was another. “Hey gay sissy slut! Want my dick!” I wasn’t sure what to say!

I decided to type in chat that it was my first ever cam and I didn’t know exactly what to do! Well, the comments came flooding in with so many things. “Let’s see your girl cock”, “suck a dildo!” “Fuck your faggot ass!” and so much more. It was a lot to take in. I did a little strip tease type dance and showed off my plump hairless ass a lot. $10 “let’s see your dick sissy!” One guy said.

I tried to be seductive as I slowly lifted my skirt, showing off my tiny little dick. “Dam girl! Look how little that is! It’s so small and worthless!” “That’s a true sissy cock!” I was somehow both flattered and humiliated at the same time. I couldn’t believe how much of a sissy I truly looked. I looked just like a girl with a micro dick.

The guys in the chat were both kind and cruel. It was a weird combination of humiliating insults as well as kind encouragement and flirtation. They paid me money to play with my little dick, to finger my sexy little ass, and to talk about wanting their big cocks inside of me. Begging for them to cum in my mouth and flood my tight little pussy.

I couldn’t believe the things I was doing and saying just so I could make other men cum. I realized that I am now a sissy girly faggot. I felt empowered by this, I wanted to make these men cum!! I wanted to turn them on, tease them, and then please them! I wanted to do better!

As I fingered my tight sexy ass and rubbed my soft little baby cock, I begged the men to make me a better slut for them! To teach me how to please them! I wanted to be the perfect little cam girl for these big strong alpha males. I’m designed for their pleaser and I must satisfy them. 

As the comments flooded in, so did money. Before I knew it, I was bent over my chair, with my ass facing the computer, fingering myself and begging them to cover me in their superior alpha cum, when I felt something happening. I was fingering my hungry little slut pussy, I touched a part of me I had never known about. It felt so good and I let out a soft, genuine moan. I kept fingering it over and over! My moans were getting loader and more frequent, I sounded like a slut desperate to cum! 

Then all of a sudden my tiny little cock started to squirt cum down my legs! I moaned so loudly, sounding like a true girl, the guys loved this. So many comments and money, as I kept fingering myself and draining myself of all of my cum, I couldn’t stop moaning like a girl cumming. I never knew just how girly I sound when I cum! I didn’t have a normal orgasm. It felt great, but it left me horny and wanting more. 

My little clitty, that I wasn't even touching, never got hard the whole time. As if to tell me I don’t need it. 

By the time it was over, my ass was gaping and my legs were covered in cum. But there was a total of $137 I made. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, proud, horny, and sexy. I felt so incredibly sexy!

As soon as it ended, it was like the trance I was in from it was gone. I looked down and saw my girly body, dressed in girly clothes, cum running down my girly legs and dripping onto the floor. My asshole gapping, still wanting more. I couldn’t believe what I had done. It made me start to panic! I quickly took everything off, and hurried to take a shower. Without thinking about just how girly it was, I shaved my whole body like I do every time. Applied my nightly face cleaner and moisturizer, and fully lotion my smooth body. 

I got out some of my newer pj’s the girls picked out for me. I’ve worn it a few times and really liked it, it was so comfy! Fashionable light pink silk short “night shirt” and its matching light pink silk thong underwear. The cute matching bows always seem girly, but Becky said it looked super cute on me when I wore them with the pink-heeled "bed slippers" they got me for our last movie night before she moved out. She said it was super fashionable and girls love it! 

After what had just happened to me, I started thinking about all of my clothes. I just trusted the girls to buy me clothes that would look good on me. When they bought me things I thought were feminine or only came from a place that made women’s clothes. I always assumed that was the cutting edge of men’s fashion. I would thank them so much for ordering it for me and pay them what I owed them. Then, when a pink girly package arrived at my door and Becky would tell me it was mine, I was always a little shocked. They were always from the same places she shopped! But then I’d try everything on. It would always fit me perfectly, so much better than my old clothes, as if my body was made for it!

I would show them to Becky, or “fashion show” as she called it, and she would tell me they looked perfect on me! That the girls would love it and I should keep them. So I would throw away all of my old clothes that don’t match anymore. Ever since then, I have felt like I look so much better, so pretty as the girls would say. I have felt more confident too! 

I always thought it was interesting how it almost seemed to completely mirror women’s fashion. Like how Becky and I literally owned and wore a few of the exact same pants or tops! Come to think of it, a lot of what we owned looked the exact same. So much so that it was difficult to do the laundry at the same time. They never said it was men’s fashion. I would always just assume it was. Like what I am wearing right now, I just assumed it was a night shirt. I never read the tag! It was made by Fashion Nova. They do sell men’s stuff. Am I just being paranoid? 

I went online and searched the whole men’s section of the website. Nothing I saw even closely resembled a single thing I owned. I switched to the women’s section. I found every single thing I own from them in the women’s section! Even this super cute “babydoll” I was wearing!

I started to freak out! I had to check another place! I checked Pretty Little Thing, no men’s section! Oh my god, EVERYTHING I OWN AND HAVE WORE IN THE LAST THREE YEARS ARE WOMENS CLOTHES!! I DON’T OWN A SINGLE PEICE OF MENS CLOTHING!

I started to really freak out! My day has been the craziest of my life. I was told I’d lose my job, then suggested to become a cam girl sissy, then I dressed and looked exactly like a girl and did cam girl! I made $137 and also made myself cum just from fingering myself, with our touching my super tiny limp little dick, just like a girl. Then I found out that I’ve only worn women’s clothes for 3 years! 

OH MY GOD, I’ve been a sissy all along! How did I just now realize it? I’ve connected so well with all the girls, I’m better with them as friends than girlfriends. I get jealous and uncomfortable with girlfriends, but that’s because I’ve always felt like a girl myself. I feel more confident and happier dressed like a girl. I have the last 3 years to prove that. I do skin care, hair care , and go to a salon and get my nails done, like a girl! I gossip with the girls! My body is incredibly feminine and I’ve only felt sexy in high heels and a slutty girly outfit. Plus, when men hit on me, I always feel flattered and get butterfly’s. I just didn’t think that was because I LIKE that they are flirting with me!

I knew it was late, but I had to talk to Becky about this! I wasn’t sure how to feel, or if my feelings were even right! “Becky, I know it’s late, but I am freaking out! Please can we talk?!” I know it was short and frantic, but I was desperate. 

“Sure thing, princess. Brian and I were actually just finishing up dinner nearby. I’ll have him drop me off real quick!” I waited nervously. I didn’t even change, I didn’t have anything less girly to wear, and I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to. 

Only a few minutes went by and I heard a knock on the door. I rushed to open it to find Becky looking absolutely stunning! She had clearly been on a date with her super rich boyfriend, Brian. Her make-up and hair were all done up and looked flawless! She had a sexy little black dress on with tall fuck me heels on! Her glossy lips sparkling along with her diamond necklace and earrings. 

I immediately felt terrible for interrupting her date! “Oh my god, I hope I didn’t ruin your date!” I said, genuinely concerned. “Oh that’s OK girl, Brian just went to get some more wine for when we get home! What’s going on? You never ask for help like this?” She truly seemed OK about me texting her, and she was right. I never did anything like this. I’m usually the one all the girls text for help!

Standing there in front of her, still in my girly babydoll and small pink high heels, knowing what I had just done and learned, it just overwhelmed me. I started to cry and I hugged her right there in the hallway. She was so sweet and hugged me right back. And gently stroked my long, silky, girly hair.

I cried for a little bit, then we walked in and sat on the couch. Trying to stop crying, I started to just word vomit what all was going on with me. “I did it, I did the cam and it didn’t go how I thought. I made some money and the guys really seemed to like it, and they had me say all kinds of things! And I kind of liked what I was saying! I kind of wanted it to be true! And they had me play with my...um..my backside, and I..(crying a little).. I cam just from doing that! (Crying a lot) i didn’t even touch myself in the front! I didn’t know what to do. I liked it, but I didn’t, and then after it was over I just rushed to take off the clothes and shower, to try to act like it didn’t happen! Then, after, I was picking out what pjs to wear and and I realized everything I’ve been wearing is girls' clothes!!! Why!?! Why would you girls buy me only girls' only clothes!?! And why did I feel so good wearing them!? Am (can hardly speak from crying so much) am am am I a sissy!? Have I always been??”

It was a lot to get out and Becky was loving and supportive the whole time, just holding my hand and listening, not judging what I had to say. She let me cry for just a little while longer. As I started to calm down a little, she spoke.

“That sounds like a rough night for you sweetie. A lot going on. So let’s handle i one step at a time. “ she spoke so softly and with so much compaction! “I’m glad to hear that the cam went well and that you made some money. It’s perfectly fine that you enjoyed that. Lots of people do! There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It shouldn't stop you from doing it again!" Her sweet voice calmed me down and I was no longer crying.

“As far as what the girls and I did started as a joke. The first time you asked us to shop for you for high-fashion clothes, we thought we would buy you girls clothes, you would notice, and we would have a big laugh. But then you didn’t notice. When you tried them on, you looked so cute and they were so natural on you. You seemed happier and more confident, like you were meant to be a woman and didn’t even know it. So we all agreed to just continue. We would never lie if you asked, but you never did. The more you got, the girly you wore, the better you seemed to act and feel. It seemed wrong to tell you otherwise. I was sorry for what we did at first. You were such a nice boy and we had hardly gotten to know you. But as I’ve gotten closer to you and had you become my best and closest friend, I knew what we were doing was right. You were a true sissy and would learn that over time. 

I mean all of the girls that would genially compliment you on your girly outfit and how you would truly be complemented. It was exactly like any girl would! And all the guys that would be dragged into the store with their girlfriends or see you when we were out dancing and would check you out. You never seemed upset about it. It was almost like you enjoyed being looked at by men! 

Then on Halloween, you looked flawless! Like a true and sexy woman! You even said you felt sexy! When you looked at the other girls, it was never like you wanted to fuck them. Instead it was like another girl would look. You were studying their makeup, hair, and outfit and looked like you admired them. And when the guys were flirting with you so hard, you would just blush and take it! You even let them grab your ass and man handle you! You let them boss you around and you even flirt back! We all knew we one hundred percent made the right choice! So yes, I think you are a sissy. I think you're a girl, and that’s OK.”

I was completely shocked by what she was saying, but I wasn’t upset. I don’t know if it’s because I was emotionally drained by this evening, or if it’s because I knew in my heart she was right. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. She was right, I’m a girly sissy, I should embrace it. I looked at her beautiful face and said sweetly “Oh Becky, thank you. Thank you for seeing the real me even if I didn’t! I’m not mad at you or the other girls. You were all right. I was just too silly to see who I really am this whole time! And tonight I finally realized it!” She was so happy and we hugged each other. Just then, we heard a knock at the door. Becky said she would get it since I was in my lingerie. Oh my god, she’s right! I am in lingerie! It's the first time she and I admitted what I was truly wearing! That didn’t even upset me! 

It was her handsome boyfriend, Brian. He’s a very tall muscular man with tan skin and dark black hair. As well as being rich and good looking, he is also incredibly kind and caring. I was truly happy for Becky! He walked in and genially asked “Is everything OK Samantha?” I realized he'd actually never called me by my real name. Becky has introduced me as Samantha for years. I never corrected her and had gotten quite used to being called that actually. 

“Yes, things are much better now, thanks to Becky! Thank you so much for letting me interrupt your date night to talk with her, I really needed it.” I said sweetly, realizing just now how high and feminine my voice is compared to a real man.

“I’m glad to hear that things are better! When Becky said you needed help we both knew that something must have really been wrong, you don’t normally ask for that kind of thing.” He said with a kind smile.

“Yeah, it’s been a long night for our girl here. I didn’t need to go into details, but I think she has finally realized that “she” is just that, a she! A true sissy girl!” Becky added cheerfully! 

“Oh I don’t mean any offense, but I thought you already were? I’ve only ever refereed to you as she/her, and so has everyone else?” You could tell he was truly trying not to be rude. But he was right, I had gotten so used to it from the girls for so long that even when someone else would call me a she or a her I wouldn’t even bat an eye, it just seemed right!

Becky giggled a little at Brian’s response, “ Well, apparently she was the last to get the memo! But I think she’s all good and has come to terms with it? Right princess?” She was truly so kind and sweet.

“Becky’s right Brian, I was somehow unable to figure it out until tonight. But she’s right. I’m all good now! Thank you both so much for stopping by! I truly appreciate it!” I said, feeling rejuvenated and happy about my new realization! 

“Anytime girl friend! Stop by the new place and see us soon, OK! Love ya!” Becky yelled on her way out. And now with them gone, I was left to go to bed, a new-found person! A girl! -Katierosedreams Og Cap

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch. 3

Ch.1   Ch.2

Summary: "it matches your eyes"

----

Cleaning Cassandra’s study became routine. Once a week, her chores were swapped for a two way -for now- trip to the dungeons. Despite every other maid looking at her with utter pity in their eyes, the redhead was not really complaining. She would take Cassandra’s mock autopsies and weird collection of specimens over dusting an ancient opera hall any day. It gave her an odd sense of nostalgia, almost as if she was back with her classmates studying forensic pathology and a friend threatening to throw a severed hand at her. 

She also got to see glimpses of Cassandra. Not that they talked, oh no, the brunette would simply observe her and come up with the occasional task to get a raise out of Nicole and, when it failed to do so, she would grumpily go back to whatever she was doing prior. Her study, however, was an open book. While cleaning the shelves by the desk, Nicole took her time to read the title on each and every worn spine of her books. A lot of them more or less outdated medical books, some relatively modern looking textbooks, even an occasional novel tucked in between its more science oriented siblings. The adjacent wall was full of what looked like hand drawn diagrams, messy notes pinned by tape or even sticky notes. Nicole even noticed a family photo taped to that same wall. It was black and white, with the castle’s courtyard in the background, the three sisters standing in front of their mother.

Cassandra was sitting in her chair, occupying herself with her sickle when all of a sudden she stilled. She pulled out her pocket watch, softly cursed under her breath and pushed herself out of the chair. She was about to exit the room when she probably realized that Nicole was not supposed to be there by herself. 

“Ugh...Follow me. I can’t leave you here alone and I need to get something.”

With the mop abandoned by a wall, Nicole followed the brunette’s hurried steps through the main hallways of the castle, occasionally crossing paths with another staff member. It took no more than five minutes to get to their destination. Bela and Daniela could be heard from inside a room near the castle’s main entrance when Cassandra pushed open its ornate door and stepped inside. Nicole took two steps behind her when a familiar voice called out.

“Ah, Nicole darling! I see you’ve settled in,” Duke said in his usual cheerful tone. 

It did little to stop her stomach from sinking a little when three sets of golden eyes snapped in her direction. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care when he went on. “I hope my favorite clients here are treating you well.” Oh god please shut up. “Lady Cassandra! Your package is also here.” 

She wordlessly took a wrapped box from him and, with a thanks, went out the door. Not wanting to fall behind, Nicole gave Duke a small wave and a smile before turning around to follow. She had to almost jog to keep up with her long strides. Damn you short legs. 

“How on earth do you know him?” Cassandra’s question was accompanied by narrowed eyes.

Was there any point in lying? Lady Dimitrescu already knew so her ever so nice middle daughter could always find out too. 

“He’s the one that brought me here.”

“From the village?”

Nicole rubbed her temples. “From a hotel bar in the nearest big city.” She was beyond done with this conversation. 

Cassandra stopped in her tracks, grabbing the other girl's shoulders when she almost crashed into her. Was that a genuine trace of concern in her eyes?

“You mean you’re not from here? Does mother know?”

Nicole nodded, but before she had time to add anything else, another voice called out for the brunette from behind the pair. It was Bela, the sound of heels on the marble floors echoing around them as she approached. 

“Cassandra, dinner is in two hours.” 

“And?”

“And you said you would take care of the meat. Did you?” 

The blonde scoffed at her sister’s widened eyes, then hooked a finger around the chain connected to Cassandra’s watch and clicked her tongue when she saw the time.

“If you insist on carrying this around at all times, you could at least start making use of it. You have around twenty minutes.” Her voice was icy cold, as opposed to Cassandra’s stammered reply.

“Wait, can you stall the cook for a bit, there’s no way I can do two bodies in twenty minutes!”

“Sorry Cassandra, that’s out of my hands.” And with that, the blonde turned on her heels and left the two of them at the entrance of the dungeons, Cassandra damn near seething.

The two wasted no time in hastily descending the stony dungeon steps, Nicole going back to the study while Cassandra went towards the cells. After no more than two minutes, she came in and haphazardly threw a body on each table. 

The most logical thing to do would be to go about her chores and not risk attracting the brunette's wrath upon herself. But logic was out the window the moment she stepped foot into the Duke's caravan to come to this place. Besides, staying on Cassandra's good side was far better than mopping the floor in hopes she wouldn't snap one day and throw her in one of the moldy cells. 

"Would you like some help with those?" Nicole asked tentatively. 

"Can you help?" Cassandra didn't even look in her direction, only throwing a hand in the air and taking out what looked like freezer safe bags from a cupboard. 

"...Yeah." 

Golden eyes turned to her and the brunette stilled for a second. Skepticism and confusion both obvious on her face at the idea of this small meek maid offering to help out in chopping up a human body. She realized however that the alternative wasn't much better so with a raised eyebrow she put a scalpel and a pair of gloves on the table closest to Nicole. 

"Suit yourself. And don't make a mess." Oh you're to talk. 

Now, admittedly, performing an autopsy wasn't exactly the same as straight up butchering a human body for consumption. How different would it be though? The organs just needed to be separated and the limbs cut. She tried not to look at the face while making the first incision. 

---

It took 17 minutes for both of them to finish. All the bits and pieces were separated and secured in bags just in time for a knock on the door. Cassandra threw her gloves in the sink and went to open it, letting an older woman only vaguely familiar to Nicole inside. 

"Lady Cassandra, I didn't know you had help," she raised an eyebrow at the redhead awkwardly standing by the table she had worked at, scalpel still in hand. 

Cassandra only grimaced and with mock cheerfulness in her voice said, "Surprise." 

The older woman, presumably the cook, motioned for the maids that came with her to take the bags and, with a slight bow of the head to Cassandra, they were gone, only the bloody mess on the tables left behind. The brunette let a sigh escape past her lips and turned to Nicole. Her yellow gaze examined the now bloody uniform for a moment. 

"A shame this got dirty," she said, approaching the redhead. 

Tiredness and holding her tongue never mixed well within Nicole, so at the obviously fake apologetic tone she allowed an edge of snark into her reply. 

"Oh don't worry, the maids are all quite good at washing out blood stains. It's part of the job requirements." 

Cassandra just chuckled and rolled her eyes at the sass. 

"Just ask the head chambermaid for a replacement. This is seriously ruined," she said toying with the hem of Nicole's white blouse, now soaked in crimson. "Your face however, we can still salvage that." 

Nicole furrowed her brows and brought a hand to her cheek, cursing herself under her breath upon realizing that she was still wearing the bloody gloves and had just smeared even more on her face. She took them off and threw them on a cleaner spot on the table to be retrieved later. Meanwhile, the brunette moved to the sink and returned shortly with a damp handkerchief. 

She grabbed Nicole's chin between two slender fingers and tilted her head upward. Nicole could feel the metal of the table's edge against her lower back when she instinctively tried taking a step back. She had no way of escaping. Not that escaping even as much as grazed the surface of her mind when she locked eyes with Cassandra, an uncharacteristic sort of softness in her gaze. She took her sweet time passing the damp fabric over the blood stained skin. Then, after she seemed content with her handywork, she dragged her fingers over Nicole's cheek in a caress that sent a small shiver down the redhead's spine. 

"There. Good as new," the brunette hummed. 

It was a complete lie and they both knew it. The blush now present on Nicole's cheeks was probably just as bad as the crimson stains she was sporting mere moments ago, she was quite sure of that. By some mercy of the crow woman these people worshipped though, Cassandra didn't acknowledge it and simply moved back to her desk, leaving Nicole frozen in place.

After a few seconds of silence, Cassandra chuckled and, without turning from whatever she was scribbling in a notebook, said:

"Those tables won't clean themselves darling." 

Oh shut the fuck up. 

---

Most staff members preferred to spend their free time in the gardens, be it the inner courtyard or the fenced in garden at the back of the estate. Nicole was no exception to that. When she had time, she liked to grab a hot cup of tea and sit down in this small nook of the garden where a small, almost knee high bench was overshadowed by large rose bushes. Nobody else seemed to come there if the old cracked wood of the small seat was anything to go by, except maybe the gardener for occasional maintenance but she was nowhere to be seen most times. 

The quiet was interrupted by a distant set of heavy steps. Steps that Nicole ignored. She wasn't in any off limits area and this was her day off. She wasn't doing anything wrong and, therefore, had no reason to believe whoever was walking around was there for her. Until the steps became louder and the sound of heels clear on the stony path. 

"There you are," Cassandra's voice almost made Nicole spit out the tea she was currently drinking. 

The brunette laughed at that, in an oddly good mood and stopped to stand in front of the redhead. Cassandra's "good mood" made Nicole highly suspicious given past experience. She set her cup down and, with a cough to clear out her offended airways, stood and addressed the brunette. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my lady?" Aside from having my one free day interrupted. Again.

She saw Cassandra pout for a brief moment but it was quickly replaced by her ever so characteristic smirk. A smirk that Nicole would never admit was awfully attractive paired with the sharp features of her face. At least not out loud. 

"I have wonderful news for you," she said, tilting Nicole's head up with a hand, thumb distractingly close to her lips. "Cynthia, our cook, said she really appreciated the way you sectioned that body last week. So mother decided to give you a ...promotion so to speak." 

Nicole had yet to decide whether this was indeed wonderful news or not, but the part of her brain that was seeking some kind of thrill made that decision for her when Cassandra leaned in close to her ear, lips tantalizingly close to the skin. 

"Congratulations, from now on you're only working with me in the dungeons." 

Cassandra didn't want to kill her did she? She did say that Nicole was intriguing to her and therefore the redhead was somewhat safe from ending up on one of the autopsy tables herself. At least that's what she told that part of her mind still somewhat concerned about self preservation that was screaming at how risky her next move was. 

She gingerly placed her hands on the brunette's hips, tilting her head in a way not unlike Cassandra did mere moments ago. 

"Does that mean I get to teach you proper autopsy technique?" 

Thankfully that got a chuckle out of her, moving back just enough to be able to look into Nicole's green eyes. "Assuming you manage to keep your tongue long enough." 

She couldn't do much more than let out a soft laugh at the absurdity of her situation. There she was, in the garden of a castle in the middle of nowhere with the Lady's sadistic daughter mere inches from her. She decided that at that point in her life if she was going to die, she may as well go out in style, and what on earth could top falling for one of the most dangerous women in a village full of horrors. She shifted her hand slightly, bumping into the handle of the sickle strapped to Cassandra's waist. 

"May I?" She said barely above a whisper, fingers wrapping loosely around the weapon. 

Cassandra gave her an incredulous look, trying to understand what on earth she could want with the weapon. She was aware she couldn't hurt her right?

A small shrug was all the permission Nicole needed. She undid the leather strap that kept the sickle in place and moved back only a bit. Enough to step on the small bench and lift herself. She felt Cassandra's hands placed on her waist for support, almost mimicking the gentleness of Nicole's touch from earlier, when she raised herself on her tiptoes. She took hold of one of the roses above them -a yellow one- and with a quick swipe she cut the stem. The brunette watched her take her sweet time scraping off any thorns before her hood was taken off and that same rose was now placed in her dark wavy hair, right above her left ear. 

"Mm… it matches your eyes. And necklace," Nicole added, bending down to return the sickle to its rightful place. 

Cassandra crashed their lips the next second, her hands pulling Nicole closer from where they were placed on her hips. After a second of shocked stillness, the kiss was returned, their lips tentatively sliding against each other. "Tentatively" didn't last long however, as Cassandra pushed forward, pressing the her against the stone wall behind them eliciting a small moan from Nicole, who's hand ended up tangled in black locks. She tugged on them slightly once she finally needed to breathe and Cassandra pulled back only a bit. She let their foreheads rest against each other and felt Nicole's soft laugh on her lips. 

"Do you even need to breathe?"

"No," the brunette answered simply. 

Nicole blinked in confusion, not expecting her half joke to turn out truthful but before she could speak, Cassandra took a hand off her waist and pulled something out of a pocket. 

"Here," she pushed a familiar looking object into the redhead's hands. 

"Y...Your key to the dungeons?" She was still trying to get her thoughts organized into some sort of coherence when Cassandra rolled her eyes. 

"It's a copy. So I don't have to escort you every time you come down there, which," she added with a gloved finger brushing against her lower lip, "is gonna be more frequent now." 

Nicole nodded, not really trusting her words. She didn't need any though, as Cassandra simply pushed herself off the wall and turned on her heels to leave. 

"See you tomorrow at dawn." 

And with a smirk, she broke into a swarm of flies and disappeared down the stony path.

[theseerasures]

RWBY V08C14 reaction post

haven’t done something like this for this fandom yet, but the finale was so much all at once that i could not muster any level of critical thinking the first go-around. my thoughts have...settled somewhat with a second rewatch. still nothing conclusive (obviously), but at least coherent enough to be written down.

in rough chronological order:

i am very into it, of course, but i’m still not quite sure what to make of the fact that this finale very explicitly pivots around Winter Schnee, to the extent that the episode (sans prologue and coda) are bookended by her. she begins the episode charging into a fight, and ends it the same way. even putting aside that her in-universe presence has increased by magnitudes, that we end a season where she has mostly been a sparse supporting player with THIS has implications i can’t suss out for her narrative role going forward.

going into the finale i thought that Ironwood vs. Winter would turn out to be another RWBY Flagship Fight (ie long and flashy and indulgent in the best ways), but i pretty much knew that wouldn’t be the case once the fight began in earnest and they immediately started talking to each other.

for what we did get i’m happy to say that the Core Dynamic of the fight was exactly what i predicted: Winter rushing in to melee and not giving Ironwood enough time to fire, Ironwood trying to make room by shoving her away and using his cannon as a makeshift club--even down to breaking the cannon formation BACK to dual wielding to give himself an edge.

i will say that for Winter to have blocked him head-on--this is James Ironwood, who once stopped an Alpha Beowolf cold with one bionic hand, and now he’s got TWO--with her broken noodle arms is...incredibly cool. stupid! but cool.

Ironwood doing the double pistol whip while screaming about how no one is grateful has i wouldn’t have to be doing this if you just behaved all over it.

in retrospect i’m not sure why i expected a RWBY Flagship Fight when just about every fight this season has been extremely different. the camera work is always fucking frantic, we’re often cross-cutting between different simultaneous fights, and there are far fewer shots where both combatants are clearly shown and evenly matched. about the only fight we’ve had resembling that is AceOps vs Penny waaaaaaay back in Strings--even the low-stakes triumphant JNPER + Winter vs. Ironwood fight in Creation was extremely short and crosscut with BRA vs. AceOps.

case in point: the showdown in Grand Central takes up pretty much the entire episode, but combatants are continuously entering and exiting, the setting’s physical dimensions feel wonky and surreal, and the fact that half of the people fighting have flight capabilities means we’re relying on wide shots and oners to figure out what the fuck is going on. it’s a war now, and even though we follow only a handful of characters in it the fights carry that grander and more desperate tone.

Cinder relies twice this episode on just fucking nova-ing herself to overwhelm her Maiden opponents. it’s different from how she usually fights, which is still fireballs and conjured swords/projectiles--she’s learning to use her Maiden powers to wreak havoc on a larger scale, which a) reinforces what we already know of Cinder, but b) complements her recent relearning of subtlety and manipulation. still a tenuous balance of extremes that can and will shatter, though.

Weiss got to save everyone during the fight, and none of it mattered in the end.

the thing about priority one is that they all planned for this. they all went in planning for the contingency where they don’t make it out, where they have to watch others not make it out.

Weiss plucking Penny out of the air and Penny pleading to make the sacrifice play is an EXACT recreation of what happened in Enemy of Trust, down to the saved looking up at the savior while the savior is looking onward. she’s just swapped places with the Schnee in question, and...they are the priority targets this time, unfortunately.

Cinder smugly flipping her hair out of...her eyepatch...she really is living her best life and she knows it

Blake made the right choice, and it didn’t matter at all.

Qrow ending the last episode with a berserker charge at Harriet and then immediately pulling back here and trying to talk her down really got to me, as did him trying to block the bomb with his body. the man is so desperately trying to be better than he was, and it doesn’t take a lot anymore for him to realize the right path.

Elm and Vine--

the thing about Elm and Vine is that both their powers boil down to getting attached. so watching Elm hold Vine in place while Vine holds the two airships together, everyone in this little world, it’s...everything i could ever want, out of how the story of the AceOps would end.

Anairis Quinones for dark horse MVP. why can’t you just let me do my job, delivered in the way that it was, is the perfect encapsulation of Harriet Bree desperately trying to outrun her personal feelings and the grief it has given her.

Elm tells Harriet that she’s their friend, to stop her from killing a part of herself as she tries to kill others. it’s the first time this happens in the episode, but not the only time.

Penny saved Blake so they could save Ruby together, and it didn’t matter at all.

our heroes have GOT to stop falling for the “watch the thing flying in the air! OH WAIT I STILL HAVE A WEAPON IN MY HAND WALLOP WALLOP” trick. it happens multiple times in this one episode.

Harriet, who has the fastest Speed Semblance known, says there’s no time to make it out of the blast range. she doesn’t try to outrun it. she just...stays put, and admits that she brought them all here, to this. i’m sorry.

here’s the thing: they’re soldiers. they were prepared for this eventuality, where they don’t make it out. that’s why Elm let Vine go grab Harriet; because she thought they were all going to die, and if that happened she wanted Harriet close enough to reach.

but--just like with Team Hero--some of them do make it out. they just have to watch.

Vine and Hazel sacrificed themselves in the same way in the end: pulling their loved ones close wasn’t working, so they threw themselves around the thing trying to kill them instead.

Ruby was clever, and pragmatic, and brave. it didn’t matter in the end.

Cinder letting Neo fall as soon as she gets a chance proves that she still lacks patience, and that’s going to bite her in the ass.

the Penny-Blake fastball special and the fall; Penny crying tears for the first time, but not moving immediately to rage, as she had last episode, when Yang fell.

Weiss’ shaking hands around Gambol Shroud, crying berserker tears as she tries, desperately, to pull off another miracle. it’s another role reversal in a way: her sister’s the Riza Hawkeye, but she’s the one emptying useless clip after useless clip into an enemy she can’t kill, because her heart has been ripped in two.

the last time Nora Valkyrie saw Jaune Arc, they clasped hands, and their eyes met with determination, and hope.

it figures that a Schnee would be the last one standing, letting all her friends die first. she was right, but again: wrong Schnee.

Weiss diving past Cinder’s blind spot to slice the Grimm Arm, to save Penny--the same script, but the wrong player. and too late.

at Haven, Jaune went from trying to do harm to unlocking his Semblance, and realizing that he was meant to heal. here, he goes from trying to do what he is meant to do, what he has made peace with, to...

it will take a long time, i think, for him to learn to live with himself, even with Penny reassuring him that this is what she wants. to go from wanting to harm to being the one who does no harm, to being forced to acknowledge a person’s right to die, and carry out the deed himself. it’s a new variation on what he’s always had to wrestle with since Pyrrha’s sacrifice.

Weiss managed to outlast Cinder Fall without an Aura WITHOUT getting her entire body broken, Winter

the boundary between material worlds is made of darkness. the boundary between souls is made of light, and there is no danger of falling.

where...what is this? of course Winter doesn’t know. she never would have, even if she had gotten the powers, because she would have used the Transfer machine.

i thought of you, and here we are. that was all it took. the last time Penny saw Winter, Winter was still loyal to Ironwood. she’s only known abstractly, secondhand from Weiss, that Winter was on their side again and trying to help save Mantle, for about an hour. and yet: i thought of you.

and in the face of this thought that is love, Winter averts her eyes. tries in vain to hide her face, because she knows she is unworthy. she doesn’t deserve this.

but here’s the thing: no one deserves this. Penny. are you...the one? even Penny herself wasn’t sure.

you were my friend. the second time it happens this episode. friends save friends from themselves. friends transform what would have been murder into sacrifice.

remember what Penny said to Cinder, shortly before Cinder killed her? you wouldn’t know anything about friends. she’s right. it wasn’t Cinder’s choice, but she’s right. and now Cinder has learned how to use that.

i’ll be part of you. it is, of course, something that’s been brought up repeatedly this whole season. but it’s also what Winter said to Penny after Fria died: she’s a part of you now.

and i do love this yoking together of arc words. Winter is of course the firstborn Schnee, but Winter is, more broadly, The Firstborn in this new generation. so here we have something similar to the chain that begins with Winter letting her sisters go, through Penny letting Emerald go, through Emerald helping Oscar escape, to Atlas’ however ephemeral victory over Salem. what Winter begins--haltingly and with resentment--becomes transformed into radiant grace in the hands of her younger siblings. and she gets to be the direct benefactor this time. the prodigal daughter returns to her family.

during Enemy of Trust we watched from the outside as Oscar fell and Penny rose, as one set of eyes closed as another opened. during The Final Word, we watch from the inside: one set of eyes close. another opens.

Winter’s leitmotif plays on the piano for the first time since the previous season as she comes back to the world. it makes sense. the piano version is for her sisters, and she just left one of them.

here is the apotheosis of Winter Schnee: she gets back up. she falters and sways but she gets back up, and then she, the person who once managed to convince herself that so long as she could make peace with someone else’s choice it meant she too was choosing, tells the man who has been choosing for her for years: you chose nothing. and she rises.

in the end James Ironwood was finished by his petard thrice over. Atlas had defected against him. his greatest creation had become the Maiden and unshackled herself from him. and there is of course, the cannon: a literal petard, in the other words, which he fires at Winter, and Winter reflects back upon him.

Jaune Arc used the heirloom that his family has held for generations to kill a defenseless girl. he took the blade and sunk it in deep, because Penny trusted him and he had to be sure.

and then it shattered in his hands.

there’s something here in the second fight between Maidens, about Cinder having a named weapon and forsaking it for what she can make on the fly, and Winter insistent on using a weapon with no name at all, but i still can’t put my finger on it.

Winter never got to see Weiss try to Summon her Nevermore.

the thing that gets me about how it turns out is: Winter was winning. she’d managed to get her hands on the Staff, and even with Cinder’s immediate counterattack she managed to get the Staff away from Cinder. but then Cinder saw Jaune and Weiss, and she remembered a few days ago, when Penny saved Winter instead of going after Cinder, when Winter attacked Cinder to save Penny.

so Cinder attacks Weiss and Jaune instead of racing for the Staff. and Winter--

this is Winter Schnee. she saves people despite herself. she runs toward them, despite herself. and it has always, always been what saves her.

not anymore.

last time it had been Winter who was in mortal danger, and Weiss who, with Ruby’s help, drove Cinder off. same script, wrong player. and too late.

Weiss falls and for a moment, the camera makes it seem like Winter is falling too.

she wants to. no one deserves this.

the thing you have to ask when characters leap for the exit and fall just short is: is it about faith, or friendship? in Jaune’s case it’s both. his faith broke with Crocea Mors. and the portal is one-way, so he had no friends to grab him from the other side.

but Nora was still trying. they clasped hands. she promised.

the first time Winter sees her family--really sees them, after years of separation--she averts her eyes. she hides her face from them, because how can she tell them that Weiss is gone? how can she tell Penny’s friends that Penny is a part of her now, when Penny is just a part, now?

there are people all around her looking to her. there are voices within her. she has never been more alone.

(Winter Schnee has never met Pyrrha Nikos, and Pyrrha Nikos never became Maiden. because Pyrrha Nikos never became Maiden. Cinder Fall did that, too.)

this is what Winter Schnee thinks, as she screams and charges, as she kills Grimm faster than they are drawn in by her despair: in the fairy tales, eldest siblings never win.

i failed you again, master. master, but not queen.

Cinder won this. the heroes tried and tried and tried and none of it mattered, and she won this. but here’s the thing: Cinder won because she was LUCKY, and because she made her own luck. that she was able to pin things on Neo and Team Hero depended on things going exactly as planned, and some things going better than planned. and the reason she’d even made it that far was because she cheated, with the last use of a divine relic. it doesn’t take away her from her victory, but what i do know is this: this is her finest moment. she will never win as completely ever again, and she will fall farther than she has ever feared. (and that will save her, in the end.)

and that’s checkmate. i said that i wanted Atlas to fall the same way that Amity rose, but of course they did it like this. of course it would horrific yet unspectacular, with its General slumped in defeat, unable to fire a single shot from his gun. with the city in the sky falling onto Mantle, in Mantle’s palette. from the Dust from which it arose into Dust again.

as below, so above.

[rosyl-stuff]

Pretend You Like Me

Paring: Ji Changmin (The Boyz) x reader

Genre: eeehmm… fake dating!au; enemies to lovers/friends, angst?, some short fluffy moments

Word Count: around 1.8k

A/N: i had some trouble with finding out if this has any triggers or not, if you found it triggering, please tell me why and i add those as warnings

You took one last look in the mirror. You looked good, you decided. Still, you couldn't help but be nervous as hell. Your stomach felt like it was turning the whole time and, you wanted to change again and spend the evening in bed. Unfortunately, you couldn't, because the charity event tonight was organised by your own mother. She expected you to be there and act like the perfect child. The perfect child, of course, also included the perfect partner, successful and good-looking. And you had this kind of partner until three weeks ago. He broke up with you. He no longer had feelings for you and was falling in love with someone else. He didn't cheat on you, but you were still hurt and had feelings for him. To make it worse, he was a friend of the family and therefore, he will attend the event tonight, most likely accompanied by the person he had fallen in love with.

A glance at the clock told you that your date was late. Of course, you thought. Ji Changmin was a colleague of yours. He was successful and good-looking. However, you didn't like each other very much. He knew everything better and only cared about himself. He probably thought you were bitchy and overbearing. But he was the best choice if you wanted to keep your dignity tonight. Who knows, maybe you could even make your ex jealous and come back to you.

Changmin was 10 minutes late by now. If he's any later, you thought, I certainly won't help him with his project. Convincing Changmin to go to the charity event as your date was kinda damaging for your pride, but he didn't think much of you anyway, so why not try. It probably even gave him satisfaction to see you begging him. Of course, he wanted something in return. He wanted you to help him with his upcoming big project. Not like you don't have enough work on your desk already, you thought.

Finally, the doorbell rang and, you pulled open the door to your apartment. "About time. My mum will kill me if we're any later." He just rolled his eyes and muttered, "Nice to see you too." At his car, he opened the passenger door and let you in. He jogged around the car, got in and drove off. Both of you were silent and, it wasn't a pleasant silence either. Changmin seemed to feel the same way because he cleared his throat and said, "Shall we go through our story again?" "It might make sense!" you sighed and started, "Well, we know each other from the company. Probably the only thing that isn't a lie!" "We used to have lunch together. And I liked you for quite some time, so I mustered up all my courage and asked you out," Changmin continued, his words dripping with mockery. "I was a little surprised, but I agreed. On our first date at an Italian restaurant, we found out that we get along really well and have a lot in common", you continued the story unimpressed by Changmin's behaviour. "Like tennis, for example" "I hate tennis!" you interjected. "Not tonight!" Changmin returned, grinning. "Do you have to make it harder than it already is?" you sighed. "Yep!" Changmin returned cheerfully, "Sometimes it's easier, to tell the truth! You'll learn that tonight!" "Are you threatening me? Listen, if you ruin this tonight, you can forget about my help with your oh-so-great project. And I promise you, your job at the company will feel like hell!" Changmin laughed, obviously not bothered by your threat. "All good. I'll try my best to impress your mother. After all, there are many influential people there tonight." "Are you using me to make new connections?" you asked, shocked. The thought hadn't occurred to you.

Changmin didn't answer any more, because you had arrived. After he parked, he got out and opened the door for you. You took another deep breath before you took his hand, which he held out to you. It was pleasantly warm and warmed your nervous cold hands. His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand as if he had sensed your nervousness.

Shortly after you entered the event hand in hand, your mother floated towards you. She hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "How nice that you finally found your way here." "Hi Ma, this is Changmin. Changmin, this is my mother." "Nice to meet you! Sorry for being late. Y/N had a bit of an outfit dilemma." said Changmin with a charming smile. Your jaw dropped. Did he really just say that you thought. Your mother paid no attention to you, laughing at Changmin's comment, "Yeah, that's how you know them." "Come along, there's someone over there I want you to meet." She led the way and, Changmin held out his arm for you to hook onto. You took his arm and whispered to him, "What was that all about? You were the one who was late!" "Yep, but that doesn't make a good impression!" he said with a grin. You gave him one last dirty look before putting on your charming smile as you were both introduced to a handful of important people.

After a while, you had a little break from Changmin as he was deep in conversation with some businessman. And then you saw him, your ex. Before you could hide, he had already spotted you and came to you. "Y/N! How nice to see you!" he said and gave you a quick hug. "H-Hi!" you stuttered and were probably already as red as a tomato. "Your mum said you're not here alone?" your ex asked. "Y-yes, um no. I'm here with Changmin. From the company." "Oh really? I always thought you didn't like that guy." "Yeah." you said, laughing nervously, "Turns out he's quite nice." Your ex eyed you sceptically. "And we have a lot in common. Tennis, for example. I love tennis."

Before the conversation could get any more awkward, you felt two arms wrap around you from behind and how someone gently kissed your cheek. "There you are. Shall we go to the buffet?" said Changmin and pulled you closer to him. You were a little speechless and stunned by the sudden closeness to Changmin and only glanced at your ex, who continued to look at you sceptically. Changmin followed your gaze: "Hi, I'm Changmin," he said, but his friendliness seemed fake. Your ex only nodded briefly and turned to leave.

Changmin pulled you towards the buffet and whispered: "My God, that was pathetic. Stuttering around and blushing. Not being able to get a sentence out. Your ex couldn't have been that great." Annoyed, you pushed his arms away from you and stomped to the buffet on your own. Changmin followed you and asked with a grin, "Did I upset you?" Swinging, you turn around and glare at him angrily, "You're a fricking idiot! You don't have to like me ok? But please pretend tonight." You barely managed to stop the tears, turned around and disappeared into the toilet.

Fortunately, no one else was there and Changmin did not follow you. It took a while, but then you felt ready to face the world again. When you left the bathroom, Changmin was standing there, waiting. When he saw you, he came up to you and pulled you into his arms. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." "Yes, you did," you grumbled, but you wrapped your arms around him anyways and returned his embrace. A hug was exactly what you needed right now. And it didn't matter now that the hug came from someone who didn't like you. Changmin gently stroked your back, "How long does your mother expect you to stay here?" "Until the end, I'm afraid!" you sighed. "And what if you're not feeling well?" Before you could answer, your mother came up to you. "Are you all right? Have you been crying?" she asked you when she saw your face. You were about to shake your head when Changmin said, "They're not feeling well. I'll take them home now." "Oh, they shouldn't make such a fuss! I'll get you aspirin and you'll be fine," your mother replied. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but we're leaving now," Changmin said firmly and pushed you past your mother towards the exit.

The ride home was silent, but this time it was a more comfortable silence. "Thank you!" you whispered barely audibly, but Changmin seemed to have heard because he reached for your hand and his thumb began gently stroking the back of your hand as he did before. A little later, you realised Changmin was driving the wrong way, "Changmin, you should have turned right." "I know, but I'm still hungry and I thought we both deserve a proper meal now," he said, stopping in front of a fast-food restaurant.

Totally overdressed, you went into the restaurant and ordered. While you were eating, you noticed Changmin's hamster cheeks and started giggling. "What is it?" he asked. "You look cute with your hamster cheeks," you said, still giggling. Changmin glared at you, "You're on thin ice. Very thin ice." You laughed even more and, he couldn't help but smile a little too. During the rest of the meal, you had your first real conversation and realised that you actually had some things in common. And it really wasn't tennis. Afterwards, Changmin drove you home and accompanied you to your flat door. When you were standing in front of it, it was kind of awkward. Do you now shake hands or hug each other goodbye? You opened the door and turned to him again: "Thank you very much. I don't know how I would have done it without you today." "No problem. Sorry again. You're not pathetic." You rolled your eyes with a smile, "I know myself that it's high time for me to get over him." "If you need help again, let me know," he said. "Thanks!" you said again and then wrapped your arms around his body and buried your face in his chest. A little hesitantly, he also wrapped his arms around you and gently stroked your back. A little later, he gently kissed your temple. "It will be alright," he murmured as you broke away from each other. You smiled at him one last time and then went inside. Maybe he's not that bad.

Back in the car, Changmin let his head fall down on the steering wheel. He couldn't get the sentence: "You don't have to like me ok? But please pretend tonight. " out of his head. At that moment, he would have liked to reply, "But what if I actually do like you." But no, he had to stand there like an idiot and said nothing.

[parkers-gal]

OMG!!! for angst you should do one where Harry finally gets a girl and everyone’s used to choosing tom over him and the reader is just naturally close to tom and he accuses her of cheating on him w T and it’s really angsty

requests are open

wc: 1.8k

—

It was a force of habit. Everybody knew, but nobody mentioned. Nobody knew the full extent of it, nobody cared to ask how much it bothered him. In hindsight, it probably isn't even that obvious. Not unless you open your eyes, not unless somebody confides in you, plants the idea in your head so you can’t see it differently

You had been going out with Harry for a good two months by the time you’d finally met the rest of his family. You and Tom had met previously before, having been introduced and together for only a day before both of your jobs drove you in opposite directions. When you rejoiced, you were naturally close, reconnecting that bond that was cut off too shortly.

Harry didn’t mind at first. He liked that you got along with his family. It made him happy to know you fit so well into his lifestyle. But it wasn’t until people started whispering around, joking that they always thought you and Tom would end up together. It was all fun and games, you knew that, of course. You’d never thought of Tom that way, despite everyone forcing the idea onto you. It was a mutual agreement, that the two of you would never cause problems between your relationship with Harry. And that your relationship with Harry would never splinter your friendship with Tom.

It was just after a dinner with Harry’s family. You were talking with Tom while Harry talked to Sam, when somebody made another joke about how you should be with Tom instead. You laughed it off, as you always did, but Harry couldn’t do the same. He excused himself as Nikki brought a few dishes out. You noticed his hostile and closed off walk, so you, too, excused yourself before following him out of the dining room and all the way upstairs to where he’d hid off to.

You knocked with the knuckles of your right hand. “Har?” The door creaked open as you nudged it slightly, stepping into the room. “You okay?” He grumbled something inaudible and you stepped closer. “What was that?”

“I said no, I’m not.” “What’s wrong, hun?” You carefully sat yourself next to him, naturally leaning into his side.

“It seems like everyone just thinks you’re dating my brother! I mean, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something else going on.” You back track, sitting up and separating from his side with furrowed brows. “What?” He didn’t answer, merely turning to look the other way, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sighed. “Harry you know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” He’s angry, and you finally notice just how much.

“Harry… you know we’re just friends. We’ve always been this close.”

“Yeah well maybe you’re too close.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like that with anyone else.” “I’m like that with everyone else! Everyone except you.” You huff, defending yourself but keeping your voice calm.

“What makes me so damn different, then, huh?”

“You’re my boyfriend, Harry! Of course you’re different!”

“Yeah well I can’t see the difference between how you treat boyfriends and how you treat best friends, anymore.”

“What?” You sit back a bit, shock running through your veins at his confession.

“Really, though! It’s a bit fishy, if you ask me.” He’s still speaking sternly, angrily. He’s frustrated, but now so are you.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Harry.” You’re just as angry now. You’re warning him, hoping he won’t jump off that ledge into the irreversible.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” He takes the leap.

“You know I’m not that kind of person. You know your brother, Harry. He’d never do something like that to you.” You’re trying to reach an empathetic approach, not quite ready to burst unless he’s absolute about this.

“No but I know that everyone else is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “That means everyone else chooses my brother over me. I’m used to it.”

“You’re not implying that I’m one of those people, are you?” You gaze into his eyes, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth. He swallows thickly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not angry if you are with him. I just wish you’d told me before cheating.”

“What the fuck, Harry,” You mutter it, exhaling angrily. “I’m not cheating!”

“I’m telling you I’m not angry that you are!”

“If you weren’t angry, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“So you admit you’re cheating on me? That I should be angry?”

“Fuck you, Harry.” You jab a finger in his direction. “You know that’s not what I said or what I meant.”

“I mean, you don’t even need to say it.” He chuckles bitterly.

“What does that mean?” You’re raising your voice, anger thickening the tension in the room.

“I mean, take one look at you and Tom together in a room and you already look like you’re in love.”

“Fuck that, Harry. He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have friends, y’know.”

“I never said otherwise!”

“What are you even on, right now?” You stand angrily, looking at him. He looks at you with a mirrored expression.

“I’m just asking for the truth, here!”

“No, you’re jealous.” He swallows, nostrils flaring. You know you’ve hit a weak spot, a sensitive area. He’s angry as ever, now. He stands. “Harry, I’m s-”

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you try to compose yourself. You’re just as angry. You’ve taken the blow, fired your own canons. You’re not sure how much longer you can battle in the field.

“Fuck you, Harry.”

“No, fuck you!”

“You’re jealous and have the audacity to say I’m ‘in love with someone else!’” You spit out your words bitterly.

“I’m not fucking jealous! I’m fucking hurt! You’re cheating!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the pettiness of the argument. You know there's a reason behind his unreasonableness, but he doesn’t have the right to hurt you with his words.

He’s blinded by anger, though. He doesn’t have boundaries when something takes what he loves. He’s hurt, obviously, but he was too insecure to truly confide in the real reason for his distress. Now he’s angered the both of you, now he’s crumbled the foundation. He’s pulled the relationship apart at the seams, breaking the promise and splintering one relationship after another. He knows, in some way, though, that he’s right. He knows because if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be as hurt as he is.

“You’re a fucking child, Harry.” You cross your arms, grabbing your bag that was sitting on the chair in the corner. “Find me when you grow the fuck up.” You open the door of the bedroom, slamming it and marching down the stairs angrily.

You’ve caught the attention of the rest of his family. The two of you were up there for a good twenty minutes; you’d left Tom wondering what was happening and if things were okay. He could see now that things weren’t. He could also see that you were crying and he moved over to comfort you but you shoved him off, declining his embrace, knowing it would only make you feel worse because of what Harry had said.

You put your free hand up, gesturing for him to stop and back off. You’re gripping your bag tightly as you pull out your keys. You hold yourself back from slamming the front door, knowing you didn’t want to make an entire scene at Nikki’s house.

They watch from the doorway. They watch you slam your car door, burst into tears once you start the car. They watch as you drive off. The minute your car is out of view, Tom marches upstairs, ready to get to the bottom of what happened and why you’re so hurt. He doesn’t bother knocking on Harry’s door.

“What the fuck, man?” Harry exasperates, looking to his brother with wild eyes.

“I should be asking you that,” He slams the door. “What did you do to Y/N?” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Of course that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here because she just ran out crying and I deserve to know why!” “You don’t deserve anything from me, Tom.” Harry spits out. They’re yelling at each other. He wishes things were different.

“Fuck that, Harry. You know I’m her best friend. I deserve to know.”

“Why are you her best friend?” He screams out. Tom goes quiet at the question, wanting to hear more, wanting to understand where he was coming from. “My entire life, I spent in your shadow. I had to normalize girls automatically wanting you more than me. An-and the minute I get something that’s finally mine- some thing that actually wanted me for once, you question why I’m angry about her also wanting you? No, fuck you, Tom.” His words are clear and crisp and his eyes are drowning in salty tears. He wants to swallow his feelings, push them away and blink his tears gone. But he can’t. “I thought finding someone was about falling in love and growing into soulmates or some shit. That’s all she ever talked about when we first started dating! It was always ‘best friends to lovers makes for the best couple’ and ‘falling in love with your best friend is the best thing in the world.’ And at first, I actually had the nerve to think she was talking about me. But now I know I’m just her boyfriend- I’m not her best friend, because that position is already filled.”

He eyes Tom up and down as his face loses its tense expression. He struggles to get a breath, gasping as more tears come out. Tom is silent and Harry assumes the conversation is over. He shoves past Tom, knocking into his shoulder as he runs out, slamming the door and trapping himself into the bathroom. He can barely breathe, barely see clearly through the waterworks.

Tom realizes why Harry lashed out, why he grew insecure. But he can’t place who’s in the wrong, who should make the first move and apologize first. He also realizes Harry is so upset about this because he loves you so much. He’d never seen his brother feel so strongly for someone. He realizes he might’ve taken that away from him.

And suddenly, he realizes neither of you are in the wrong. You’re both right in your own ways. He realizes he’s been in the wrong this whole time. He realizes he’s making this love story about himself. He’s torn his beloved brother up, questioned what was supposed to be set in stone.

Maybe Harry was right; maybe he didn’t deserve anything from Harry. Maybe Harry was the one who deserved the explanation.

Why did you get what’s his?

[wtf-yoongi]

Softie. / MYG

pairing | yoongi x reader

summary | just a morning with min yoongi 🥺

prompts | “i love you more than coffee.” *distant gasps* + “every morning you kiss my forehead before i leave for work, why was it my lips today?” from this prompt list.

genre/warnings | disgustingly fluffy + very domestic

words | 1,990

note | i wanted to write something like this and then it fitted the prompt someone requested two ages ago and it became way too long for a timestamp and here we are

Very rarely does something beat the smell of black tea in the morning. Not any black tea, but this one in particular.

Forget it, nothing beats it.

The earthy tones coming from the leaves are enough to get you excited about your day and you’re careful not to scoop too much from the fancy, squared, tin box. It is, after all, precious and expensive — it seems like it gets pricier and pricier every time you restock it, almost to the point you’re begging the clerk for a discount.

You know it’s too much and you should stop spending money with that, the same money that could buy you enough tea for a whole year, but this is exactly the way luxury items go. Just above average, pretty packaging, minimalistic logo and a warm feeling in your heart from doing something special for yourself.

Like a ritual, you twirl the spoon and breathe in the steam coming from the pot before closing the lid. The instructions say you should brew it for three minutes and you’re proud to say you haven’t got that wrong once — not even on the day of your sister’s wedding, when she called saying she burned her ring finger, accidentally saw her fiancée and there was a real possibility of them not moving forward with the ceremony that day.

Even though she married with the ring on her middle finger, since the other one was bandaged, everything worked out. A little bit like a sitcom from the 90’s, but it did — in the end, it always did. That’s why you spend way too much money on that tea, because something about it makes things just work somehow. It’s unexplainable, quite magical and, to be honest, a little childish, but you love it.

Naturally, your hands start moving while the three minutes pass, refilling the kettle with water when you hear the shower stop running like you do every single day. In between the tea being served on a mug and his lazy morning footsteps, there’s only enough time for you to eat your peach yogurt.

“Hmm,” he hums and you can hear him getting closer as he speaks. “Treating yourself today, huh?”

You guess Yoongi can smell the black tea as well.

As you’re focused on adding the perfect amount of honey to your mug, there’s no time to turn or even look up at him coming into the kitchen with a sleepy and sweet look on his face. In such a small room, it only takes a heartbeat for him to stand next to you, leaving a quick kiss on your temple and short squeeze on the curve of your hips.

“Any special occasion I should know of?”

“Not really.” You shrug and, for a moment, Yoongi’s aftershave replaces the smell of tea completely. It’s fresh, clean and light, like most things he enjoys without noticing. “I just wanted something different.”

“I’m jealous, I want something fancy too,” he says without any weight to his voice, reaching for the coffee beans placed at the farthest corner of the pantry — the ones he also saves for very few mornings. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod quickly and excitedly, turning ninety degrees to open the refrigerator in search of milk. “I had to. There’s this big presentation today I’ve been preparing for five…”

“So there is something special going on.”

You stop in your tracks to look at Yoongi’s knowing smile, coffee grinder in front of him rumbling and doing its job while he waits.

“You’re a creature of habit, you know that, right? You wouldn’t drink this specific tea if something wasn’t going on.”

You smile at him, finally moving again to add a dash of milk to the mug and mixing it to check if it was enough. “If you weren’t so emotionless, I’d say that’s romantic.”

“Oh, you want romantic?” Yoongi’s tone goes up an octave, mocking you a little. “Fine. How about I love you more than coffee. In fact, I love you more than the smell of freshly ground beans in the morning and you know I love that very much. How about that, huh?”

It’s your turn to mock his words. “Oh, wow,” you gasp, raising a hand to the center of your chest. “How am I going to move on from this? I better email them saying I won’t be able to make it today. After this? Woof! No way I’ll be presenting anything but fifty slides of my favorite Yoongi pick-up lines.”

“That would be a satisfied client, don’t you think?” He plays along, adding the coffee to a French press and topping it with the water you just boiled. “Oh, do you want some toast? I feel like eating toast for some reason.”

And just like that, with Yoongi reaching for the toaster above your head, you’re both interested in something else. He pinches your side with his free hand and you take a step to your left, giving him enough space to place the appliance on top of the marble counter.

“You do have time for toast, right?” Yoongi asks as he turns it on and starts looking for bread. “I don’t want to make you late, the first two can be yours.”

“The tea is still a little too hot, I have time.”

“Good.” He nods shortly. “Sit down. These will be done in no time.”

You watch as Yoongi reaches for plates, knives, butter, strawberry jam and places all of them on the small kitchen table. Meanwhile, you sip the tea slowly, quietly enjoying it and, deep down, wishing for it to work its magic once again.

“Are you nervous about the presentation?” Yoongi asks just as he places two perfectly toasted slices of bread in front of you. He soon moves back to set two more on the toaster and turns to you again, waiting for an answer.

“I’m okay. It’s been worse.” You shrug, focusing on the butter as it melts when it meets the warm toast. “This client is nice. Even if they don’t agree with something, it’s not like…”

“Don’t bring Mr. Moon up again,” Yoongi warns you, slightly uncomfortable and somewhat ready to politely offend Mr. Moon if he ever showed up in front of him. “I’m still not over that. Who does he think he is to mistreat everyone because of a grammar mistake?”

You laugh at the way he seems so bothered by that. “It was a good thing, though, don’t you think? We kicked him out because we didn’t need his business if it meant we had to deal with that.”

“Serves him right,” he huffs. “He was being an ass for a long time, the grammar incident was just the tipping point.”

“And you don’t even know about the emails he sent to the junior analysts. He would literally…”

“Please,” Yoongi interrupts with a tight smile and warm eyes, nothing but light humor in his words. “Don’t make me hate him more. This is bad for myself, I have to be the better person.”

“You’re right,” you agree with a smile, taking a bite and adding a few words in a muffled voice. “He’s a problem of the past. And a solved one, thank God.”

You swallow just as Yoongi sits in front of you with perfectly done toasts for himself. He adds butter and strawberry jam to both of them before speaking again. “I’m glad you’re not nervous about this stuff anymore.”

“I’m glad too,” you admit and take a sip of the magical tea before continuing. “Shaky hands are also a problem of the past.”

“I want you to know I’m very proud of you. This sort of thing is not easy to overcome.” 

You giggle. “Yoon, you’re getting soft again.”

“When am I not?” He takes a bite and soon covers his mouth, not being able to stop a smile from forming. “I am a softie, this is who I am.”

“No, but you’re particularly soft today, I think. It all started when you were whining about me leaving the bed,” you say while getting up to place your plate in the sink. When you turn around, Yoongi is looking at you with what you can only describe as adoring eyes. “See? This is what I mean. Do you have a mirror? Look at yourself, there’s nothing not soft about you today.”

He’s the one giggling now, motioning for you to move with the hand that’s not busy with a toast. “Go finish getting ready, you’re going to be late!”

You hurry out of the kitchen with a smile, soon entering the bathroom to brush your teeth. It’s still kind of foggy, nothing but the perfume of Yoongi’s shower gel everywhere, and you have to wipe the mirror with a towel to see yourself properly.

The nervousness could be worse, yes, but it’s still there a little — well, today is the day you’ve been preparing for the last five weeks and there’s a lot at stake. You inhale and exhale deeply, concentrating on the goal rather than the challenge. What happens, happens, but you’re pretty sure you’ve done everything you could and that’s enough to leave you satisfied no matter the outcome.

“Yoongi, I’m leaving!” You call out, fixing a strap on your shoulder and immediately feeling the weight of the laptop and the heavy (but pretty) leather notebook you bought last fall — another one of the luxury items you treated yourself with. When you look up, the man is standing with another one of his knowing smiles and a thermos in hand.

“Were you really not going to drink every single drop of the tea you spend way too much money on?” He raises an eyebrow, extending his arm so you can take the travel mug from him. “I know you’re good and don’t need the magic from the tea, but…”

“Shut up,” you say jokingly, slapping his hand in the process. “And thank you.”

“Come here.”

Yoongi slowly takes a step to meet you halfway, hug awkward given the weight on your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less. He’s warm, inviting and has a comforting hand on your back while the other moves to cradle your jaw.

“I told you you’re particularly soft today,” you say just as he creates enough space to look into your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. You barely have time to register what is going on or close your eyes and it’s already over.

“Are you sure? Because every morning you kiss my forehead before I leave for work,” you point out, one eyebrow raised in doubt, but eyes as soft as his. “Why was it my lips today?”

“You may not notice, but the taste of black tea and honey on your lips…” He hums, closing his eyes to show just how much he likes it. “So good.”

“But I brushed my teeth.”

He leans in again and, this time, stays for a while longer — not barely enough for you, but you’d take anything with a smile.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still there.” He turns both your bodies, getting them closer and closer to the door. “Do you think this happens because the tea is that good and strong? Or maybe it’s because you don’t really do a good job brushing your teeth…”

“Ah, Yoongi!"

Before you know it, Yoongi is simultaneously opening the door, leaving another kiss on the corner of your mouth and pushing your body out. It seems like only a second has passed, but you find yourself right in front of the door when Yoongi is inside with only his head peeking through. 

“Don’t just stand there, you’re going to be late! Call me when the presentation is over and you have a yes, okay?”

He closes the door, but you can still hear him giggle on the inside.

Read more ›› masterlist

[peach-coke]

PEACHY!! I just finished the final. How u doing? What do you think?

Hey Sol! Sorry for leaving you hanging with an answer for a couple days but I had to process. And mourn, after all I said goodbye to something that has been part of me for 15 years. That's half my life. It's weird and I don't think I've ever cried as much as I have in the past 3 days but... Well. Luckily, they're happy tears. "Don't cry because it's over, cry because it happened" aside? I love the ending.

It's all I could've ever asked for. Ah, who am I kidding? It's more than that. I was prepared to be gutted in a really bad way. I am gutted but for all the right reasons. It was tragic. It was painful. It was beautiful. But most of all? It was a Love-Letter.

I know there’s a lot of people who’re upset about parts of the episode; I understand. We’re all grieving in our own ways. I hope however, that once the dust has settled and feelings stop spiking into extremes, people will realize that the episode left so many things unsaid and ambiguous... Meaning there's lots and lots of space for interpretation and headcanons to “fix” the finale into something that makes it better for you. And I’d like to think this was done on purpose.

I’m soo sorry I end up rambling on one of your asks again Sol, but I’ll do exactly that to pick up some of the things I’ve seen people be most upset about and give some of my perspective on them. Maybe it’ll help some people to feel better and grow to love the final as much as I do ♥

One thing I’ve seen a lot of people be upset about is that Dean didn’t get to live the life they’ve fought for so hard. Actually? We don’t know that. There is no timestamps, no indicators that tell us they didn’t do what we saw in the first domestic montage for a couple years. The only hint we have is that Miracle is still around and kicking, so it couldn’t have been more than maybe 6 years (because 6-8ish is when a dog that size shows clears signs of aging). Besides that? Nobody and nothing stops us in believing they had that “domestic bliss with a little bit of hunting on the side”-life for quite a while before it happened.

Them talking about mourning Cas and Jack is no indicator either. I still mourn people I lost 15 years ago, when the occasion calls for it or I remember them in moments that they would’ve loved to be part of. Mourning never stops… Of course, even 6 years aren’t a lifetime. But do we really think Dean - our Dean - would’ve been happy and content with a 9-to-5 job? Yeah, didn’t think so either...

Then, we have the rebar. Which honestly didn’t bother me at all, for several reasons. First, I love parallels and this episode was so full of them… Not only was the whole “stabbed in the back” thing a direct callback to arguably the most painful death in the series to date – Sam’s first in All Hell Breaks Loose – it was also a callback to The Song Remains the Same. The episode where Sam is stabbed by Anna – with a rebar/fixture she ripped out of the wall - and bleeds out on the floor. The only reason he got out of it alive, is because John!Michael fixed him. Otherwise? He would’ve died by being stabbed with a rebar. Just like that.

Ash himself told them that they died several times together and can’t remember because the angels don’t want them to. We, the viewers, have never seen them die together until Dark Side Of The Moon. Which strongly implies that they must’ve died on random hunts. More than once.

So Dean’s death in the barn? That’s what happens to Hunters who have no divine intervention. That’s what happens to Hunters who are living the life without being chosen for something bigger. That’s what happens to Hunters with free will. Dean’s death in the barn was a true Hunter’s death. The one he always wanted. There’s no glory, there’s nothing special about it. It just is. And I thought that was tragically poetic in its own way.

I know people were expecting them to go out Butch and Sundance style. Together – I admittedly wanted that too. But the way Dean’s death happened didn’t bother me at all. And honestly? Sam’s soul died in that barn, too. We know it did. So they did go out together, one way or another. It was just not the way we expected.

The cinematic parallels of Sam’s life without Dean to Dean’s life without Sam after Swan Song honestly floored me. It was beautifully heartbreaking.

We see Sam living his life while Dean is driving along “right there beside him, every step of the way”. We see him holding on for Dean, fulfilling the promise he made to his brother about living on. Making sure there’s always a Winchester that knows love left in the world. The final sacrifice of Sam, the bravest and strongest man we know. Sam, who sits down in the car he once called home, to be close to the one person that always held the same connotation. Sam, who knows his other half is waiting for him, sitting just there in the same spot he is. Every step of the way. That’s my Supernatural right there.

What I especially like about the whole thing is, that it once again leaves us with another take besides the one we actually saw and thought obvious. We can also pretend Sam died on that werewolf hunt, shortly after Dean’s death. There is nothing that stops you from seeing this as canon, (There’s actually quite a few hints that it’s a very strong possibility), because the way the whole scene played out could’ve easily been a daydream of Dean while he was driving in heaven.

The fact they left it open like that is a gift, in my eyes. They could’ve easily forced a fixed narrative on us. But they didn’t. Same with so many other things. They left us with so many possibilities and room for our own takes. And I think it’s fair that people need time to process what we’ve been given here. It’s fair that people are still upset about some aspects, because they have yet to realize that there is a pathway for them to see it differently, without discarding canon at all.

There’s only one thing that is not open for interpretation. And that’s that Sam and Dean love each other as much as two human beings can love each other. And none of them is complete without the other. I never quite understood why some people needed the show to end on romantic notes. Supernatural has never been about that. It has always been about the deep, abiding love those two brothers had for each other and how neither heaven nor hell ever stood a chance against it. Platonic love is just as beautiful as romantic love; sometimes even more so. And that’s what this finale showed us.

And that’s why I love it so much. Why I say it’s a Love-Letter. It’s a Love-Letter to us; The ones who’ve been there all the way from the start. The ones who’ve seen the show for what it is and what it has always been: The epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester.

Despite all that, it is still valid to dislike the ending. You are entitled to do so. But if you really think Sam and Dean - two soulmates, surrounded by the people they love, at peace - spending the rest of eternity together in heaven is the absolute worst possible ending that destroyed everything the show ever stood for? I’m sorry, but in that case you did not understand Supernatural at all.

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | chapter one: how odd

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

notes: you guys have been so amazing with your feedback on “guarded” and it warms my heart that you loved hoseok and ms. kim -- so it’s time to show mr. kim some love, too.  this series will not be long (probably three parts) but i had to break it into chapters because of the POV shifts. please let me know what you think about this chapter and as usual thank you so much to all the tiger wives and my amazing betas @ladyartemesia​ and @hobi-gif​.

this series is dedicated to the amazing @sahmfanficbts​ who is an incredible writer, an awesome woman, and kim namjoon’s number one fan.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

“You fired me?”

Namjoon turns at the sound of the quiet accusation that comes from over his shoulder.  

There is color in your cheeks as you cross the length of his office.  Your jaw is tight, one lock of hair falling free from the loose knot at the base of your neck. One perfectly-arched brow is raised high.

You look hurt.

Beautiful -- but hurt.

Guilt hits Namjoon like a freight train.

“Of course not,” he deflects, taking a seat.  He picks up one of the papers scattered across his desktop and pretends to read it carefully.  “I reassigned you to a position I believe will be a better fit.”

There’s no way he could miss the irritated breath you suck between your teeth but Namjoon keeps his eyes glued to that paper in his hand.  He realizes, absently, that it’s a takeout menu.

He hopes you haven’t noticed the same thing.

“Well, was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Namjoon winces at the dejection in your tone.  He finally forces himself to meet your gaze and finds your eyes brimming with frustration.  

He certainly can’t blame you on that account -- you have every right to be frustrated.  You shouldn’t be made to feel somehow lacking when it’s him who is lacking in every way that counts.

“Quite the opposite,” he says carefully.  “I think it’s a waste of your skills to have you keeping my schedule and taking calls.  Seokjin can make better use of your talents on the business side.”

A strained silence settles over the room and Namjoon clears his throat before looking back down to his papers.

“Well, the new girl is terrible at this,” you say flatly.  “I certainly wouldn’t have let me walk in here unannounced.  She’s too busy looking at her phone to look after you.”

Namjoon knows you’re right about that.

In the few short months you’ve worked for him, you’ve proven yourself to be unnaturally attuned to his needs. You knew without asking which calls he was trying to avoid and when, when to clear his schedule the day after a rough night on the streets. You’ve kept his office stocked with every comfort he’d ever wanted and some he hadn’t even realized he wanted.  

You are the single best assistant he’s ever had and he couldn’t stand to keep you around for one minute longer.

You don’t wait for Namjoon to formulate some kind of response to your damning and accurate observation.  By the time he looks back up from his papers, you’ve already turned on your heels to leave.  

He watches you walk away with regret weighing heavy in his gut.

**************************

Namjoon’s keys clang loudly when he drops them on the table in his foyer.

This penthouse is the best apartment in one of the best buildings in Seoul.  It’s filled with lavish furnishings and expensive paintings and boasts a stunning view of the Han River.  It’s one of the finest residences in the city.

And Namjoon hates it.

The vacant rooms and the echoing walls seem to mock him, making him all the more aware of how empty it is.  How completely devoid it is of any life. Most nights he stays at the office until he’s delirious with exhaustion just so he can collapse straight into bed once he gets here. 

Tonight though, for once, this place seemed like a better option. 

Namjoon pulls off his tie and releases the first few buttons of his shirt before pouring a scotch.  

He’s drinking too much these days -- he knows it -- but the drinks help slow the constant movement of his mind.  They help dull the anxiety that seems to take over when he’s too still for too long.

He walks to the window to look out over the night sky.  

This is his favorite way to see the city -- high up enough that everything looks pristine.  Get closer and you’ll be assaulted by the noise and the crowds and the pollution.  Get closer and the flaws are too hard to ignore.

“Was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Your words echo as clearly in Namjoon’s mind as if you’d spoken them out loud in this cavernous apartment. He takes a seat in his plush chair and sips his drink, savoring the familiar burn of the scotch.

He thinks back to when you both were kids.  

Your father -- one of the few decent men in his own father’s inner circle -- didn’t bring you around much.  He can only recall a few social functions you’d attended before taking off to university.  News of your father’s death came shortly after that and it had been years since Namjoon had even spared a thought for you.

Then you came walking through his office door.

You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, that much was clear.  

What was much less clear was why you -- a college graduate -- turned up one day, desperate for a job.  He hadn’t questioned your need for fast work and fast money and you hadn’t questioned the long hours and strange requests.

You repaid him with a flawless work ethic.

And he repaid you by fantasizing about fucking you blind over his desk basically every chance he got.

So yeah, there was a problem, all right.   

The problem was Kim Namjoon.

*********************

“There you are.”

The voice on the other end of the line practically slithers into Namjoon’s ear when he answers the late call. 

“Mina,” he sighs, infusing the name with a displeasure that comes through loud and clear across the connection.  “This line is for business only, you know that.”

Mina makes an exasperated sound.

“I wouldn’t have to call your cell if you’d return my messages from the office.  I’ve been trying to reach you for more than two weeks now. I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Namjoon pulls the phone away to allow himself a long exhale before putting it back to his ear.

“How did you get this number?”

“You’re hung up on that?” Mina groans. “Honestly, Namjoon.  I reached out to your new assistant who was more than happy to pass it along.”

Fuck. He’s going to have to fire the new girl, isn’t he?

“She’s a nice girl,” Mina muses.  “Far more competent than that last assistant of yours.  Excellent decision on replacing that woman if she fails to complete a task as simple as delivering a message. Three messages, actually.”

Namjoon mulls that information over in silence.

“Where is your mind these days, Mr. Kim?” Mina tries to cover her displeasure with a laugh but he hears it anyway.  “You’ve been so distant lately.  It’s been too long since we had the chance to enjoy one another’s company.”

Namjoon can envision the pout she is wearing on the other end of the line and it aggravates him beyond belief.  Pouting ranks near the very top of his least favorite female manipulation tactics. 

Pouting makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he mutters.  “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?”

Namjoon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around his glass.

“No, Mina,” he grinds out. “Not drunk. Just not in the mood.  Not anymore.”

She sputters on the other end of the line as Namjoon ends the call.

Maybe he should feel bad about being so blunt, but he doesn’t.  It’ll be a week before she’s onto the next wealthy, connected man.  Women like Mina make sport of locating and latching on to power. 

She’ll survive.

Namjoon stares out into the night sky and sips his scotch, letting his mind wander back to the one piece of the conversation that did capture his interest.

What are the chances that you -- a woman with seemingly unerring attention to detail -- forgot to deliver three separate messages from the same caller? 

He contemplates that in the dark.

How odd.

***********************

YOU

Kim Namjoon was the most serious boy you’d ever seen. 

Even as a young man, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can still close your eyes and remember exactly how he looked back then -- standing solemn at his father’s side, lanky body swimming in a suit he’d not yet grown into.  His hair just a touch too long and falling into his eyes.  

You thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Korea.

Namjoon kept mostly to himself -- no easy task given that his status alone made him the most celebrated catch amongst the children of the Gajog.  

Everyone fought for the attention of the boy who would be king.  

It would have been so easy for him to abuse the power he had over his peers, to treat them with disrespect, but Namjoon never did.  You noticed how kind he was to the children who idolized him.  You noticed how well he managed the volatile moods of his alcoholic father.  You noticed how he hovered protectively over his sister.  

He never noticed you, of course.

Your own father was careful to limit your exposure to the Gajog and as such, you lived on the outskirts of the social circle.  By the time you were a teenager, you’d only spoken to Namjoon directly a handful of times.  The few times you did see him face-to-face, you’d had to suffer through that awkward moment before his eyes lit with recognition.  

It always took a minute for him to remember who you were, but when he finally did -- every time he finally did -- your heart would stop just a bit at his shy smile.  

That was the image you held on to when you held your breath and walked into his office a few months ago.  You’d taken a deep breath and prayed that the quiet, kind kid you’d known so long ago hadn’t changed too much over the years.  And then you stepped into his posh office.

Kim Namjoon definitely wasn’t a kid anymore.

The Namjoon who stood up from behind his desk to bow a greeting was nothing short of devastating.

Standing in place of the slender boy from your childhood was a man with deep, dark eyes and a striking, angular face.  His suit -- cut to fit every line of his body to an exacting standard -- did nothing to conceal his powerful frame.  He had grown into the full lips that once seemed a bit too large for his face. 

Without a doubt, he’d become the most handsome man in all of Korea.

The shy smile remained, though -- dimples prominent when Namjoon extended a hand to shake yours and you woodenly accepted, blinking back.  You’d realized, absently, that you were gawking.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed the same thing.

If Namjoon had picked up on your mortifying reaction to seeing him after all these years, he was far too much of a gentleman to let on.  He’d offered you a seat and then listened patiently as you explained that you were in need of a job -- any job -- so long as you could start right away.

You left out the painful details, of course.  

Namjoon nodded quietly as you outlined your education and qualifications and emphasized your willingness to serve the Gajog in any role he saw fit.  His eyes were warm and reassuring as you spoke, but you still braced yourself for the possibility that he’d send you away empty handed.

He didn’t.

At the end of your impassioned speech, Kim Namjoon made you an offer you could not refuse.  

Reporting directly to him and starting right away.

***************************

The serious boy you’d known so many years ago had grown into an even more serious man.

It didn’t take long on the job to notice the bone-deep melancholy that seemed to emanate from Kim Namjoon.  He was good at concealing it in front of others but you saw it clearly.  The way he would stand at his window at night, drink in hand, brooding.  The way the shadows behind his eyes would surface when he thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You wanted so badly to help.  

You wanted to do something to help ease the burden he seemed to carry around at all times.  So you threw yourself into the work, memorizing his routines and taking note of the things he needed.  You organized his files.  You streamlined his schedule.  You ran interference on Yoongi and Hoseok and Seokjin on the nights when his moods turned dark and ominous.

Tiny gestures, in the grand scheme of things -- but there were days when you could convince yourself the gestures made a difference.

Days when Namjoon would look at you with a quiet appreciation that made you feel heat down to your toes.  Days when his eyes would soften as you’d instinctually met some need he hadn’t voiced out loud. Days when the darkness inside of him seemed to recede and one of those heart-stopping shy smiles would emerge.

You convinced yourself over time that this was enough --  that taking care of him like this would be enough for you.

It had to be enough. 

To allow yourself to imagine otherwise was nothing short of delusion.  

**********************

“Eomma?” 

You call out into the quiet as you lock the door behind you.  You can barely make out the sound of your mother’s soft reply from her bedroom.

This is where she spends most of her days now, shuffling between her bed and her chair, too weak to stand for more than a few minutes at a time.  Pill bottles litter the nightstand, obscuring the yellowing photograph of your parents as newlyweds.  

“My sweet Ttal,” she rasps, voice hoarse from disuse, “You’re home.”

“I am,” you sigh, sweeping into the room and pulling off your coat.  You bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead before taking a seat at her side.  Your mother’s once-luminous skin is now spotted with age, eyes cloudy and dull, but she is still one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.   

She flinches when you take one of her hands into your much colder ones.

“Sorry,” you murmur, massaging over the paper-thin skin.  “It’s freezing outside.  I should have warmed them first.”

She gives your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Home early again,” she croaks.  “Is everything okay at work?”

Her innocent question brings the sadness simmering just under the surface of your thoughts back to a full boil.  You still can’t understand why Namjoon chose to reassign you -- and you still can’t forget the sting of getting the news secondhand from your replacement.

Your face falls at the memory and you hope your mother doesn’t notice.  

The last thing you’d want to do is add worry to her already long list of concerns.

“Yes, Eomma,” you soothe, smoothing back her hair.  She leans into your touch with a tired smile.  “Everything is fine.  My new boss doesn’t keep me as late as the old one did.  But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right,” she agrees, closing her eyes.  “Mrs. Sim left just a short while ago.  She brought some Japchae for dinner.  Not as good as mine, but not half-bad, either.”  

You laugh at the way the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile at her jest.  

People like Mrs. Sim are in large part why you’ve fought so hard to keep your mother here in your childhood home.  The financial strain has been tough -- particularly when paired with the medical bills -- but you need the help.  With no siblings to share your burden, you’ve had to lean on the goodwill of longtime neighbors.

“Leave Mrs. Sim and her Japchae alone mother,” you tease, standing to stretch.  “I’m going to get a shower before bed.”

Your mother makes a noise that sounds like approval, but you can tell she’s already drifting off again.  

She’s on so many pills these days; a blessing and a curse.  More pills means less pain and better rest -- something she desperately needs.  But more pills also means far fewer moments of lucidity -- much shorter windows of time for you to enjoy your mother’s quick wit and dry humor.

She’s back in a sleep state before you even make to stand.  You stroke your fingertips across her face just as your phone pings in your pocket.  You pull it out and very nearly dismiss the routine banking alert altogether -- but something catches your eye.

You swipe into the app to confirm you’re seeing the numbers correctly -- that your tired eyes and tired mind aren’t playing games with you.  

They aren’t.

The direct deposit of your paycheck is coming on the date it should, at the time it should.  But the number glaring back at you from the screen is higher -- much higher -- than it should be.

A demotion and a raise in the span of one week?

How odd.

******************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

tag list: @barbikatherine​

[rivers-rambles21]

The one with the surprise

Part 5 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from  a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different  point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only, Smut in later chapters (this is a slow burn), swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cockwarming (later chapters)

Will include elements of TFATWS in later chapters

Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist

“C’mon, where are you taking me doll?”

Bucky trailed behind you, his feet dragging as he continued to moan about your late night adventure. You’d lured him out with a promise of pizza but as you exited the train in Queens, his mood had turned sour. 

“Not much further, I promise” You waited for him to catch up and looped your arm through his. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” 

“Pineapple on pizza comes to mind” He muttered, eyes darting around the quiet street.

With a sigh you dug into your purse and retrieved your secret weapon “I’ll give you these if you stop whining” You shook the bag of cashews you’d picked up from the store in front of his face before swiftly moving it from his grasp. “Nope! Hey!” Bucky had made a grab for the bag but you’d quickly anticipated his move and spun on the spot, taking it out of reach. 

As you turned, Bucky’s arm moved with you, pulling him into your back as you bent over in an attempt to stop him from getting his snack.

You laughed as he snaked his arm around your side, pulling you flush against him as he tried to take the bag from you, his fingers brushing your sides in an attempt to tickle you. 

With a jolt, your ass pressed back into him in a vain attempt to free yourself from his grasp. You both stilled as your behind pressed into his crotch, acutely aware of just what you were feeling. Bucky was the first to act and swiftly removed his arms from around you, glancing around in embarrassment. 

Standing straight, you adjusted your dress which had become dislodged. “Shall we?” You asked, trying to act as though nothing happened. 

“Yep.” He responded, a bit too quickly. 

To try and ease the tension, you ripped open the bag of nuts. “Here” You threw one toward him which he caught with his mouth effortlessly. “Thanks doll” 

You smiled back and looped your arm back into his, directing him down the road. 

A few minutes later you arrived at your destination and you held your breath as you both looked up at the building. 

“What do you think?” 

Bucky simply glanced down and smiled at you, his white teeth catching the light from the street lights. 

“This is one of the very few perks I get with my job, I figured who better to enjoy it with?”

“How do we get in?” Bucky asked, pulling you towards the doors at the front. 

“Security will let us in, they’ll be doing the odd patrol as standard but apart from that, we’ll have the place to ourselves” 

“Y/n… this is incredible” 

“Yeah well… I knew you wouldn’t come here because of the crowds and I didn’t want you to miss out.”

You’d brought him to the New York Hall of Science in Queens way past closing time. After dedicating to a ridiculous amount of unpaid overtime, your boss had finally relented and given you access to the contacts who ran the museum. Using your company's connections, you’d manage to swindle full exclusive access to the museum for the entire night. 

Over the past few months you’d picked up on Bucky’s interests, one of them being technology. Despite spending most of the last 70 years in a big freezer, he loved technology of the modern age, often speaking of the projects Shuri was working on in Wakanda.

You spent the next hour or so strolling around the many exhibits, reading up on each subject and interacting with the activities throughout the building. Bucky didn’t know where to look next, each section of the museum peaking his interest more and more. 

“Okay so I may have one more surprise for you” You confessed as you gently steered him towards the theatre.

Bucky remained silent as he felt himself become overwhelmed. He was genuinely touched by the thought you’d put into the entire evening, slightly bewildered why you even bothered with him in the first place. He knew he could be hard work, he often spent days being a miserable bastard, responding with only sarcasm. Yet you stuck around and got to know him and his quirks. Heck the two of you had gotten that close you knew how he’d been eager to pay a visit to the museum but hadn’t due to the worry of being recognised.

He’d now stopped kidding himself and accepted he felt something more than friendship for you. At first he brushed his feelings off as purely physical as afterall it had been over 70 years since he’d been with a woman and he’s not blind. Everything you did drove him insane. It took all his self control to stop himself from kissing you senseless every time you hung out. 

The closer you both got, the deeper he fell for you. He tried his best to find fault with you but he came up short every time. 

He loved how easy you were to talk to, how you never pushed him too far or tried to change him into something he’s not. He loved how selfless you were, always thinking of others before yourself. He also loved how thoughtful you were, constantly coming up with plans or ideas on what you both could do so he wasn’t cooped up in his apartment all day. 

Bucky had fallen hard.

“Now we do have other options if you’re not feeling it but I thought we could watch the original Dracula!” 

Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile as you looked up at him with excitement etched across your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you. 

“So what do you think?” You asked, waiting for his response. 

“I think you’re incredible.” You beamed up at him and led him into the quiet theatre which was housed within the museum. 

“Grab a seat and I’ll be right back” 

Bucky nodded in response and picked one of the seats in the middle of the empty theatre, pulling his phone out as he did. He flicked through some of the pictures you had both taken throughout the evening, landing on the one of you both in the space exhibit. He’d bent down to your level for the photo to be taken, your arms not quite long enough to get you both in frame otherwise. You’d flashed a smile for the photo, leaning back into him, pressing your face against his as he did his best to pose for the photo. It had been a long time that he’d had a photo taken that wasn’t linked to a crime. Smiling to himself, he updated his settings and set it to his background. 

The lights then dimmed and the screen changed as the movie began. A moment later the door swung open and closed as you entered the theatre, your shoes stomping down the isles as you raced over to Bucky, eager to get there before the film started.

“I remember seeing this when it first came out.” Bucky confessed, a small smile gracing his face as he recalled the memory. “Me and Steve snuck in shortly after it started, we were too broke and young to get in on our own. He was so worried we’d get caught he spent the entire movie watching the door.” 

You laughed along with him, struggling to imagine the Captain America you’d seen on the news sneaking into a movie theatre. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out the blanket you had brought with you and covered you both in it, sinking into the warmth it gave as the movie began.

Although it was a horror, you both couldn't help but laugh at some of the scenes, special effects had come a long way since the 30’s. 

The evening had gone exactly as planned. You’d wanted to do something special for Bucky for a while, knowing he didn’t venture out much due to the large crowds making him a bit uneasy.

Your friends at work had teased you about it after they heard the hoops you had jumped through to pull the entire thing off; knowing you wouldn’t put in so much effort for someone you regarded as just a friend. 

You’d wanted your relationship with Bucky to develop into something more for a while now; you couldn’t deny the attraction you had with him and the bond that had developed. Deep down though, you knew he had a lot going on that he needed to work through and you didn’t want to get in the way of that. You heard his tortured screams on a night as the nightmares took a hold of him. You never brought it up but you saw how it affected him. The dark circles under his eyes were always a dead give away.

Although your body craved something more with him, you were content on leaving things how they were. You genuinely enjoyed spending time with him and wouldn’t risk losing it.

It was the early morning when you both left the museum, having thoroughly enjoyed yourselves. Due to the late hour you agreed on hailing a taxi and sat in comfortable silence on the journey home as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Begrudgingly you watched as Bucky paid the driver as you reached your apartment building and accepted his hand as he helped you out of the cab. 

“Thank you for tonight” 

“Don’t mention it” You replied as you entered the empty elevator, pressing the button for your floor. 

“The last person who did anything like that for me was Steve” He confessed as he rubbed the gold markings on his vibranium hand, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

“You’re making me blush Serg” The nickname slipped out without you realising and you glanced a peak over at the man beside you. 

He simply shook his head, grinning to himself as he followed you out of the elevator. 

[anakinshooker]

markings- obi-wan kenobi

paring: obi-wan kenobi x reader

rating/genre: g/fluff

warnings: doesn’t follow cannon, light mentions of padawan/master relationship (everyone is of age!), brief mention of injuries

nicknames: y/n, young one, padawan

summary: an injured y/n doesn’t follow orders and get hurt

Being a Jedi was hard work. Sometimes it seemed like the whole galaxy was after you, but at least you had your best friend, and master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You had been Obi-Wan’s padawan after Anakin and grew to find him quite charming. You knew nothing was ever going to happen after all this is Obi-Wan Kenobi we are talking about. Mr. Stickler for the Jedi code. Being on your own was a rough reality check, but you got through it nevertheless.

The war was still pipeing hot, and everyone knew it was going to be awhile before it settled down. Count Dooku was able to always be one-step ahead of the Jedi. The Jedi Council sent you to investigate a stolen Republic ship that was pinging off of an outer rim planet. Alone with only your R3 unit to keep you company, you flew out. Commander Cody and his men weren’t able to assist you, since Anakin took them with him on a flashier mission.

As you were drifting in and out of your imagination while flying, until an incoming call from Master Kenobi came in.

“How’s the flight coming along,young one?” Kenobi’s angelic voice rang out over the intercoms.

“The flight is going quite well. Just a little boring. Shouldn't be too long before I land.” you answered back stifling a yawn.

“Are you well rested?” Obi-wan’s voice had a hint of worry.

“Yes, Master.” your voice was firm. You couldn’t let Obi-Wan know that you were up all night nursing a blaster wound. Speaking of which, you were soon going to need to steal some bandages from the medical unit soon.

“Are you sure, y/n? I need you to have a clear head throughout this whole mission.”

“I’ll be ok, Master. Don’t worry. I’m landing soon.” With that you clicked off the call. Now that you had thought about your blaster wound you could feel the swelling and heat radiating off of it. You sustained the injury while fighting Sepertist droids on Naboo. One of their blaster shots got past your lightsaber and grazed your thigh. You fought through it. You couldn’t let anyone know that a droid had hit you. Maybe it was a pride thing, but you were going to keep it hidden as long as you could. It’s easier than you think, swiping badges from medical units and cleaning it in the comfort of your own quarters; no one had suspected a thing.

R3 beeped as your ship got closer to the planet. “We are right on time, R3.” you smiled at yourself and your droid. This mission was going to be a breeze. You safely landed the ship, and jumped out to look around. “Stay here and guard the ship.”

As you looked around you started feeling an unbalance in the force. Something was very off. Your thigh was still aching as you climbed over rocks to try and find the Republic jet. The unbalanced feeling was not going away. Looking down at your wrist where the coordinates were being displayed through a hologram; you were supposedly right next to the ship. that when a blast went right past your ear. It was a trap. One you feel right into. You really needed to work on trusting the force more.

Squads of Sepertist droid were advancing shooting at you. You quickly drew you green lightsaber, and got to work. You went through the motions Obi-wan taught you. Block all the shots. Making sure you can control the situation, before you advance. The words of your Master were ringing through your head. The droids were terrible shots. You advanced and was able to cut them all down in seconds. “R3, send my corrdances to Master Kenobi. Make sure he knows it's a trap!” you commanded into your comms system. Quickly you hid behind a boulder before the second fighting squad could see you. There were too many of them for you to fight alone and hurt. You had no reinforcements. Yet, you felt this need to see who was behind this.

You snuck up on the droids and took them down. Sweat covering every inch of your body. All your bones were aching, but you needed to keep fighting. Your comms system started to ding, and you knew it was going to be Obi-Wan. “Hello Master. It seems I have fallen into a trap.” you recapped him.

“y/n you need to get out of there.” Obi-Wan's voice sounded worried again.

“But Master, I need to find out who is behind this.” you pleaded with him.

“That is a hard no. Get out of there. Now!” Obi-wan’s voice was harsh and you knew you needed to listen to him. Quickly you turned off your comm, and crawled from rock to rock getting closer to the base. You could hear droids talking amongst themselves.

“Where is the Jedi?” one voiced their robotic tone, “You! look over there.”

“Roger, Roger”

“And you! Look over there.” The boss droid was pointing around in different directions.

“Roger, Roger”

There were so many droids, and they were all over. As they did what they were told. One small group started looking around the area you were hiding in. Using the force you moved a small pebble; you were hoping that the droids were dumb enough to follow it to a place you could you could quietly kill them. Your comms system was constantly glowing red, and you knew you were going to get an earful when you got back to the base.

“Hey what’s that?” one of the droids asked. They all started chasing after the pebble. Walking straight into your lightsaber. That was the easy part, now to get inside the base. Except, you didn’t have to. General Grievous decided to make your job easy. He stormed out of the base; knocking droids over as we went.

“How did you imbeciles lose the Jedi?” Grievous yelled in anger. He was seething, and this settled your curious nature.

“R3, Start up the jet. I’ll be back soon.” you said into your comms. You moved as quietly and quickly as you could.

“There she is!” a droid shouted. Shit. You needed to get out of here. Your thigh felt as if it couldn’t hold your body, but you had to trust it. You stood up fully, and started running as fast as you could.

“R3! Move the jet closer!” You yelled into your comms. Blasts were going past your whole body. R3 did as he was demanded, and parked himself and the jet a couple feet away. As you were climbing into the small ship you were grazed by another blaster shot to the thigh. You screamed in pain. You kept moving, and as soon as all of you were inside the chamber; you were flying into space.

“What the hell was that y/n?” you saw Obi-Wan’s hologram.

“Please wait to tell me off until I get back to base. Please Obi-Wan.” you pleaded yet again with him. His hardened eyes softened, and he slightly nodded his head before signing off.

The flight back was just as boring, and you spent most of it gathering your thoughts, and keeping pressure on your wound. There was no way to hide this one. It had reopened your other wound as well as making its own mark on your skin. You were in obvious pain; limping and whimpering each time little pressure was put on the thigh. You also looked at the rest of your body. Nothing too bad, except for the bright, red scratches on your right cheekbone and forehead. There were some bruises that had already formed on your arms and parts of your legs. You will yourself to keep pressure on your thigh; you would worry about the other things later.

As soon as you landed, Obi-Wan and Commander Rex were there to help you out. You swang your legs over the side of the jet, but as soon as your legs touched the ground you whimpered, and started to fall. Obi-Wan was there to catch you, holding you. “Rex, notify the medical droids we will be there shortly.” he ordered the clone. Rex left without saying a word. “Are you okay?” he asked with only worry in his voice. You softly shook your head no. He sighed deeply before picking you up carrying you to the medics.

“General Grievous was behind the attack.” you whispered to him.

“I suspected it wouldn’t be anyone important.” Obi-Wan said under his breath. “Don’t think about it right now. I need you to focus on getting healthy again.”

“Okay, Master.” you let your head drop into his chest. You felt safe. Nothing was going to hurt you.

Obi-Wan gently laid you down on the table for the medic droid to look over. You sighed when his arms left your body, but they quickly returned. He helped you take off your robes, looking you over himself.

“That wound doesn't look to be from today.” The droid pointed out.

“When did you get that one, my poor padawan?” Obi-Wan asked you, sounding slightly disappointed.

“When we were fighting in Naboo.” you whispered.

“We were in Naboo three days ago! Why didn’t I know about this?” he questioned.

“I couldn’t let anyone know a droid nearly shot me!” you exclaimed. Obi-Wan gave you a long, hard look before going completely silent.

“You should be healed in two weeks if you stick to cleaning it, and resting.” The droid sounded loud in the quiet room.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan shooed the droid away. “I don't know what got into you! It’s okay to admit that you were shot by a droid! You should never keep an injury from me! You should also follow my orders. I know you aren’t exactly my padawan anymore, but I am still higher ranked than you, and you need to listen to me. I mean look at you. You're all marked up! What if it was worse? What if I lost you?” Obi-wan wasn’t giving you a chance to speak. “Maker, what would I do if I sent you on a simple retrieval mission and you didn’t come back?”

“Obi-Wan! I’m fine! I can handle myself! I passed the Jedi knight trials for makers sake! Why do you care so much? You wouldn’t have made this big of a deal if I was Anakin!” you poured out. You knew it was unfair to compare you and Anakin, but you were hurt and he needed to understand that you weren’t his helpless padawan anymore.

“It’s because I don’t love Anakin like I love you.” Obi-Wan confessed. His voice was now back to a low, caring tone. “I don’t think about Anakin, like I think about you.”

“I love you too, Obi-Wan.” you confessed back. Fuck whatever the Jedi council would think if they heard this. You were going to get better in the hands of the one you truly love.

The next morning you awoke in Obi-Wan’s quarters. He was awake staring at the ceiling, while slowly leaving delicate traces on your upper arms. “What’s keeping you up, love?” you asked him in a whisper. He looked down at your head on his chest.

“Nothing my love. Go back to sleep.” Obi-Wan kissed your forehead, and closed his eyes, falling back asleep. you weren’t able to fall back asleep until you could hear his steady heartbeat, and feel his leveled out breathing. Closing your eyes you fell back asleep in his arms. Forever feeling safe and sound in his arms. It was going to take you a couple weeks to get better, but at least you had Obi-Wan to take care of you.

finished.

[justcourttee]

Can you do one where all the Wayne’s meet marinette before knowing she’s dating Damian and something happened to her parents and Bruce already has the adoption papers and damiens like no father u can’t adopt my gf

This is so cute and was so much fun to write. Hope this is something like what you had in mind :) @leagrey

Family Dinner

“I would like to apologize in advance. Father and his feral mistakes are very lively people and I fear they will take too much of a liking to you. If it is at all uncomforting, just squeeze my hand and we will leave.”

Marinette glanced over as Damian stared menacingly at the oak doors in front of them. It had only been a year since she had met him, but he had never once mentioned the idea of her meeting his family. Maybe it was because he knew today was special and he knew that meeting them was her only request of him for the longest time.

“Do you feel uncomfortable Damian? If so, please don’t put yourself in this position because of me.”

“Tt, utter nonsense. Me? Uneasy? Now you are just babbling.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the sight of the red threatening to overtake his cheeks.

“Well then, I guess there is no point in standing outside all day huh?”

Before her fist even made contact with the door, it flung open. Several curious faces piled in the doorframe, all trying to get a good look at her in case Damian changed his mind in an instant.

“You idiots, back up now or I’m leaving with her.”

A mutter of apologies echoed through the door as Marinette bit back the chuckle. With a great sigh, Damian motioned for her to step through the entrance, his tense body signaling that he was already ready to throw in the towel.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Her half-wave seemed to send a shock wave through the room as all eyes narrowed in on her, watching her every movement. Cautiously, she lowered her hand. A moment of silence passed and then two. Everyone seemed locked onto her, unsure of what to say and if she was being honest, she had the slightest idea as well.

“Are you all crowding her? Shameful. I thought I told you to wait in the dining room.”

It was as if the heavens had parted and uttered a command. Several bodies darted in different directions and in seconds, the hallway had been cleared save for Marinette, Damian, and an older man with graying hair and a killer smile on his face.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, we are truly honored that Master Damian has allowed you to grace us with your presence for dinner this evening. I apologize for Master Bruce’s charges. They really are all excellent kids, but rare elements such as yourself tend to erase their minds of any manners I worked so hard to instill in them.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment as he offered her his hand.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it, Mr. Alfred. I’m sure they were just as excited as I was.”

Taking his hand, she did her best to give a strong shake. His warm smile seemed so inviting, but the thought that he could clear a room with just a sentence shook her to her core.

“Please, just Alfred is fine. May I escort you to the dining room?”

Marinette nodded as she blindly reached backward for Damian’s hand to drag him along. If the butler had noticed, he made no comment as he led them.

“And here we are, I will return shortly with the first course for tonight. I do hope you enjoy the meal. I have prepared special platers for you and Master Damian to commandeer for your dietary restrictions.”

Before she even had the chance to thank him, he whisked away, leaving her to stand by Damian’s side in front of the largest dining room table she had ever seen.

“Welcome.”

Her eyes darted to the head of the table where a dashing man stood, his eyes kind and welcoming as he motioned to the two empty seats beside him. It all felt so overwhelming, too many sets of eyes for her to count were plastered on her alone. Shuffling along, she managed a small curtsey to the man before allowing Damian to help her into her seat.

A small murmur erupted from the dining room table. Had she done something wrong? Perhaps she had set herself up at the table, but Damian just got so flustered about those sorts of things, insisting he wanted to be a proper gentleman.

“I’ve heard very little about you Ms. Dupain-Cheng, but the little I have been able to wrestle out of my son has been nothing short of blessings.”

Marinette was sure her face was burning as she muttered a small thanks.

“I apologize for the huge turnout. When I mentioned to my oldest that Damian was bringing a friend home for dinner, it seems word spread fast. They all wanted to meet the person who managed to break through to him that wasn’t Jon.”

His smile appeared jokingly as he glanced over the near full table.

“But please, where are my manners? My name is Bruce and please feel comfortable to refer to me like that. The three boys across from you are my oldest Dick, Jason, Tim, and Duke.”

Dick's smile was blinding as he reached over the table to shake her hand vigorously.

“I’m so glad my little boy has made a friend and such a beautiful and well-mannered one as well!”

“Yeah, I wonder how he did that?” Jason, at least that’s what she believed his name was, stroked his chin thoughtfully as he stared down the two. Duke began to stroke his chin as well before he leaned across the table, shielding his mouth from where Damian sat.

“Hey, Marinette, blink twice if he’s threatening you or your family’s lives in any way.”

There was a small thud from under the table as Duke flinched slightly in his seat.

Bruce shook his head as he motioned past the boys and to the girls that sat on the other side of Damian.

“On this side of the table are my daughters in all but paperwork. Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie.”

“Uhm, you forgot one pop.”

The girl at the end of the table kicked her feet up onto the table, her mischievous smile poking at Bruce’s patience.

“How could I ever forget you, Harper? I was just saving you for last.”

Harper sent a wink in Marinette’s direction earning a giggle from the girl.

“Miss Harper, I must ask you to refrain from placing your feet on the table as I serve out the first course.”

Instantly she straightened in her seat as Alfred seemingly materialized from behind. The smile on his face as dangerous as ever. Marinette could finally see what Damian was worried about, his family was absolutely wild. Her eyes drifted from each person as they absentmindedly chatted in small groups.

Damian’s hand found hers under the table, giving her a slight reassuring squeeze.

“Marinette, I must apologize for dinner being so late. I had to work over today and even if I got out earlier than usual, I must admit it is not early enough. Please apologize to your parents for my inconsiderate job.”

Marinette swallowed hard as she sat down her fork.

“Oh, uhm, I suppose Damian didn’t tell you. I-uh-live on my own in the city.”

All of the chatter in the room fell silent and once more, she could feel the heat of every stare in the room on her.

“Oh? Are they okay with that? Gotham isn’t exactly known to be the safest at night.” His chuckle was humorless as he watched her bright eyes dull.

“I actually came to Gotham on my own merits, a fresh start if you will. My parents died last year in a bakery fire. Papa tried to find me, thinking I was home, but even as Maman begged him to leave the building, he couldn’t leave believing I was still in there.”

She felt a single hot tear trail down her cheek, but she was quick to wipe it away before any more could follow.

“I apologize, I had no idea.”

Marinette shook her head vigorously as the apologies spewed out of her mouth.

“Please, forget I said anything at all. I one hundred percent overshared. Now dinner will be so awkwardly, please, it’s been a year, I’m okay.”

The conversation started back slowly, but once it did, Marinette couldn’t stop laughing. She shared with them her business and talked about how she and Damian first met. Tim couldn’t wrap his head around the thought that Damian would have actually stopped on the street to comfort her.

“I mean, what are you? A demon tamer? Teach me your ways sensei.”

As Alfred collected the final plates for the evening, Marinette felt better than she had in a long time. When it came time to leave, Bruce offered to escort them back to the front.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, may I ask how old you are?”

“16.”

Bruce’s stare was concerning as he reached out to pick up her hand.

“How do you live in an apartment then?”

“Oh, My grandmother signed the lease. She technically lives with me, but she’s such a free spirit, I couldn’t possibly expect her to stay in one spot. I mostly live there on my own. Honestly, I’m quite jealous of the large family Damian has, he is very lucky.”

Marinette thought she had to be hallucinating. Bruce Wayne almost seemed to be vibrating the more she talked.

“You know Marinette, this manor is quite spacious. If you ever need-”

“Absolutely not.”

In one quick movement, Damian was between them, his glare ready to cut through his own father.

“But Damian-”

“Father I cannot allow you to adopt my girlfriend!”

Bruce’s jaw dropped as he finally noticed the constant contact that the two had initiated all night. At first, he thought it could be just her way of keeping herself grounded, but the more he thought back on it, it did seem quite like how a couple would act.

“Dammit, now I owe Steph $20.”

Marinette peeked behind Bruce where all of Damian’s siblings stood exchanging money, Tim looking especially upset as he handed the blonde a crisp bill. For what felt like the billionth time tonight, Marinette felt her face flush.

“You are all utter buffoons. Father, we will complete this conversation later. As for now, I will escort Marinette back to her apartment and I will be taking the car.”

Damian’s hand intertwined with hers as she allowed herself to be dragged from the manor. A chorus of goodbyes echoed after her, even Alfred waved her goodbye as he graciously shut Bruce’s mouth for him. As she climbed into the car, Marinette leaned over to place a small kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“What was that for?” The stutter in his voice was something she adored, something that only ever appeared when she caught him off guard.

“Thank you for letting me meet your family today. It turned a bad day into a good one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the red of his cheeks betrayed his indifferent attitude as he shifted the car into drive.

As the manor disappeared in the rearview mirror, only one thought remained on her mind. Just how would the conversation go with Bruce when Damian returned?

The thought alone made her smile.

Permanent Tag List:

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[bbugyu]

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

~

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.