#spend a whole week writing a restaurant scene that never felt quite right and then gave up

[nyoomfruits]

PLEASE ELLIE

du bist mein schultenbrau

Tell me!! 🤍😂

ITS SO DUMB ITS JUST THE WORKING TITLE for everyone super confused by the context, the title is from this banger of a dutch après ski hit the title has mostly nothing to do with the fic except lando and oscar go on a ski trip in the winter break because oscar was supposed to go with his gf but she broke up with him and lando's like 'i'll go with you' and they spend a whole week on a super romantic couples ski trip As Bros (who fall in love. obviously) anyway thats a terrible explanation here's the first two opening scenes that actually set up the plot perfectly lmao:

Max texts Lando on one of this last days in the MTC, right before winter break is supposed to start. Lando doesn’t even notice at first, spending most of his time in and out of meetings, filming a few last minute promo vids. When he does notice, he sighs, annoyed, a little disappointed.

“Hm?” Oscar says, from across the table, where he’s slouched down in one of the office chairs, scrolling through his own phone.

“Max cancelled our trip,” Lando says, dropping his phone down on his thigh and staring up at the ceiling as he contemplates his options. He could go visit his parents, maybe. Maybe other Max and Martijn wanted to hang out for a bit.

“Verstappen?” Oscar asks, without glancing up from his phone. He’s been quiet all day, more quiet than usual. There’s a downward pitch to his mouth, bags under his eyes. Lando gets it, maybe. It’s been a long season, and even though they ended on a high note, he can understand the exhaustion. He’s feeling it himself, the aftereffects of months of giving it his all. It’s why he’d been looking forward to this trip so much.

“Fewtrell. We were going to the Maldives. But now his girlfriend wants to go visit her family, so.” He tries not to sound bitter about it. He gets it. She hardly gets to see him as it is, and it’s not like Max owes him anything.

He’d just really been looking forward to it.

“Can you cancel?” Oscar asks. He’s put his phone down, and he’s looking at Lando now, the way he always does. Like there’s nothing else in the world more worth looking at than Lando. It had unnerved Lando a little, in the beginning, until he’d realized that’s just how Oscar looks at people. Or, well, he assumes that’s just how Oscar looks at people. He’s never really been able to test this theory, but it makes sense, so. It’s probably true.

“Yeah,” Lando says. “Full deposit back and everything. Still. Rather be on a beach.”

Oscar snorts. “Luckier than me, then.”

“Why?” Lando asks, frowning, wondering if he’s forgetting something.

“I was supposed to go to this ski resort with Lily. But now. Well.” He looks pained, and when Lando sends him a confused look, he adds. “We, uh. We broke up. So.”

“Ah,” Lando says. So maybe it hadn’t all been exhaustion, then. “I’m sorry.”

Oscar shrugs, but his mouth is still pitched down and he’s not looking at Lando, instead focusing on his hands, where he’s fiddling with his phone. “It’s okay. It just wasn’t working out anymore. For either of us. But uh. Yeah. Still sucks. Plus I can’t get my deposit back, so now I either go on this stupid ski trip alone, which is just sad, or I just lose the money.”

Technically, Oscar could probably afford to lose the money. He’s rich enough. But it’s the principal of the thing. Also, Oscar still has that sad puppy look on his face and it’s pulling at Lando’s heart a little bit. It’s the only excuse he has for blurting out. “I’ll go with you.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, looking up, surprised.

“Yeah,” Lando says, thinking about it a little more seriously. “Yeah, why not? Teammate bonding outside of the season. It’ll be good for us. Plus, it solves both of our problems. You don’t lose the money and you don’t look like a sad sack of shit in front of all those fancy ski people, and I get to go on a vacation after all. Win win.”

“I mean,” Oscar says, and he seems to actually consider it now. “It’s no beach.”

Lando shrugs. “Bet the gin and tonics still taste roughly the same,” he says, and Oscar laughs, one of those full body things where he folds in half with the force of it. The joke’s not that funny, but it’s the happiest he’s seen Oscar all day, so he’ll take it.

“Sure,” Oscar says. “Why not. Let’s go.”

--

It isn’t until Lando’s standing in the door opening of their little cabin for the weekend, backpack hanging off one shoulder and suitcase at his feet, that he realizes how intimate this is. He should’ve guessed, maybe. Oscar had said it was a trip he’d booked for him and his girlfriend, so. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, perse. But this is. It’s small. It’s cozy. There’s a fireplace.

“Lando, I don’t want to rush you, mate, but it’s like minus ten out here and I’m not wearing my ski jacket yet,” Oscar says, from somewhere behind him, a noticeable shiver in his voice.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” Lando says, moving further into the cabin, dragging his luggage with him. Lando had flown in from Monaco, fresh off celebrating New Year’s with his friends. Oscar had flown in from London, and Lando’s pretty sure he spend both Christmas and New Year’s alone. It shouldn’t tug at his heart strings as much as it does, probably.

Oscar makes his way inside, dumping his suitcase by the couch and looking around. “Quaint,” he settles on.

“All right, big fancy words man,” Lando says, rolling his eyes. “Please tell me you know how to make a fire, it’s fucking freezing in here.”

“I do, actually,” Oscar says, beelining for the fireplace while Lando wanders further into the cabin, darkly muttering ‘of course you do’.

The living room is massive, with a giant L shaped couch in front of the fireplace, and big open windows looking out over the beautiful snowy landscape outside. To the left, there’s an open archway to a kitchen and dining room, and to the right are two doors. One, upon opening it, turns out to lead to a pretty decently sized bathroom. The other-

“Oscar,” Lando says, frowning a little. “Are you aware there’s only one bed?”

“What?” Oscar says, looking up from where he’s fidgeting with something in the fireplace. Lando doesn’t say anything, just holds open the bedroom door and gestures at the frankly giant bed. “Oh, yeah,” he says, looking a little forlorn. “I mean. Yeah. When I booked it- Well. They didn’t have any cabins with single beds, so.” He shrugs a little bashfully. “I’ll uh, take the couch. It’s big enough.”

And he looks so small, and so sad, crouched in front of the fire, shoulders slightly hunched over, that tired, sad expression back on his face, and goddamnit. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lando says, closing the door resolutely and going to grab his luggage. “We’ll share.”

“But-“ Oscar shares, and behind him, there seems to have appeared an actual fire in the fireplace. Lando raises an impressed eyebrow.

“No. We’ll share. It’s fine, the bed is giant. I think we’d be sleeping closer together if they had given us separate beds, that’s how big it is,” Lando says, grabbing his bags and making his way back to the bedroom.

“Okay,” Oscar says, but he doesn’t look so sad anymore, smiling a little at Lando’s dumb little joke, and that’s. Lando will take that, if anything.

“So,” Lando says, flopping down on the giant couch after he’s managed to ditch all of their luggage. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

[mysticalrambling]

Coming Home (C.E)

Chris Evans Fanfiction (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Summary: dad!Chris Evans. Chris comes home to his twins fighting and he scolds them. But he also takes care of their wounds with you and then you all go out to eat ice cream and have a family day.

Warnings: None. Minimum angst but fluff all the way.

._._._._.

"Where are the kids?" Your husband came and sat right next to you on the couch. It was a shock to him when he didn't see his two little munchkins clinging to his legs the moment he entered the house. It has been kind of their routine from the moment they could walk on their little two legs.

“They are busy playing in their play room. Why are you not happy about it?” You knew that after a full day of shooting, coming home to two energetic kids was tiring and stressful. So you were shocked when he wasn’t glad to have a moment of peace by himself.

“Well, they are a part of my routine now. It feels weird not having them jumping around me.” The three year olds have always been more attached to Chris than you. Initially, you were a little jealous that the twins focused all their attention on your husband but now you were glad. Having a piece of quiet while he handled the children was pretty awesome.

You both had pretty successful careers and when the twins came into your lives, you both decided that you would handle it all together. In the start, each one of your married girlfriend told you that you had to quit your job as the marketing head because being a mom was a full time job. You were scared and when you shared your concerns with Chris, he consoled you and told you that you would both do it all. Having successful careers while being good parents.

“Just spend sometime with me while Emma and Jason are distracted.” Pouring him a glass of wine, you leaned in to him with your head on his shoulder.

“That is a good way to spend my evening. How was your day, sweetheart?”

“It was hell. My boss gave me a project to complete with a bizarre timeline and when I couldn’t complete it on time. He just took it all out on me in front of my colleague.” Today was humiliating for you and you couldn’t wait to get home, drink a nice glass of wine and relax. “Hated it, babe. How about you?

“Well, my co star couldn’t get her part right so we had to do the same scene five times. We are behind on shooting now and I have to get up early tomorrow morning so that we can catch up to the schedule.” Sighing, he took a long sip of the red liquid and felt his muscles relaxing.

There was a moment of silence that enveloped the room and you just basked in it. “A crappy day for us both.”

“Indeed. Let’s do something exciting then.” He kissed you and just when things were about to get heated, a piercing scream interrupted the moment.

“What-What is happening?” He was still in a haze and couldn’t properly interpret anything.

“It looks like your kids are fighting again.”

“Are you going to handle them?”

“Oh no!” Laughing at his incredulous request, you picked up your glass again. “You wanted to spend time with them so go on.”

Chris got up from the couch and went upstairs. Emma and Jason love each other to death but they have been fighting from the womb. Emma is the stubborn one and while, Jason backs out most of the time. Sometimes, he retaliates and it turns real bad, real fast. They were pretty hot headed, just like you.

“What is happening here?” The dad mode was fully in place when he saw his little girl sitting on the floor with hands pressed to a bloody forehead and his little boy trying to console her.

“She pushed me and then I pushed her. Not my fault. But she hurt, daddy.” The panic in Jason’s eyes was evident.

“(Y/N)! Come here, right now!” You scrambled to your feet as soon as Chris’s voice boomed across the living room. “You never hurt your sister, Jason. This is not alright.” The stern voice was new for Chris but the situation required it.

“But, daddy-”

“No excuses, Mister. Now, apologise to your sister and no toys for you for the whole week.” He got in to action with the first aid kit that he took out of their walk in closet. Emma was still crying her lungs out even when Chris tried to console her. She was not letting him touch the wound and was squirming uncontrollably in his lap.

“Daddy, why you always bla- blame me? Hate you.” Hiccuping, he stuttered on the big words and then stomped out of the room. You tried to stop your son but he just ran past you.

“What is- Oh my god!” The blood was now soaking up your little girl’s shirt and she still wouldn’t let Chris touch the wound.

The one thing that your kids inherited from your husband was the fear of blood and stitches. The small three year old knew that a boo boo that hurts really bad will lead to stitches. You knew how to handle all three of your babies in situation like these. Taking Emma from your husband, you hugged her lightly.

“Bubba, I need to look at your boo boo and then you can have the Elsa bandage.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” When she removed her chubby, little hand, you were relieved that the cut was not big or deep. A bandage would just do the trick. You softly hummed a tune in her ears while you applied an antiseptic to the wound and then the band aid. She had tears streaming down her face and she was sniffling quietly. Chris took her from you when you were done and gently rocked her in his arms. He always loved it when both your children seeked comfort in you. It reminded him of how lucky he was to have you. “Where did Jason go?”

“I scolded his regarding this and he threw a tantrum.” When Emma heard Jason’s name, she further curled herself into his chest.

“Give her to me.” Raising her face by holding her chin, you sternly asked her. “Tell me what happened, young lady?”

With a guilty tone, she told you both that she was the one who pushed Jason first. They were both playing with the doll house that Chris bought Emma as her third birthday present. Jason wanted to add his toy cars to the doll house but she won’t allow it. She pushed him first and he hit his wrist on the small coffee table but then he pushed her back. When she fell back, she hit her head on the side of the wooden house.

“You are going to apologise to him, Emma. I told you that this much anger is not alright, bubba.” Chris took her to the twin’s room that had two different themes running through it. Emma was never a fan of the color pink so she went with purple and Jason really loved yellow, so he got that. The room looked like a clown’s den but Chris was never the one to deny his children’s requests. They had his whole heart well, except you.

“Jace, Emma would like to say something to you.” Setting her on her feet, she went towards his elder brother by barely three minutes.

“I am sorry, Jacey. Never should have pushed you. Kiss your boo boo to make up?” He nodded gently when his sister climbed in to the body. Extending the bruised wrist, Emma held it in her hands and lightly pecked on it. Meanwhile, you got a numbing cream for Jason and you stopped in the doorway with Chris and watched their interaction. They were your and Chris’s two little bundle of joys and you both couldn’t get enough.

“I am sorry that I yelled at you, baby. You two will not have your toys for a week. But who wants ice cream right now?” They both jumped at the mention of their favorite treat.

Chris had a way with the children. He completed all their wishes from eating ice cream as dinner or buying the most expensive toys for them. Making them happy was his primary job and he fulfilled it with great joy. However, he knew when to step up. He knew when to tell them no because he didn’t want his children to be some spoiled brats. He knew how to mediate and that was one of the many thing that you loved about him.

“I will get your jackets while daddy will help you with your shoes.” Going downstairs, you placed Dodger’s food in his bowl because you were going to be out for sometime. Chris always turns a simple outing to a full blown family day. A walk in the park, dinner at a high end restaurant and then shopping at the mall.

“Let’s go.” He buckled both the kids in their respective booster seats and made sure that they both had their preferred stuff toys. God knows, if they didn’t have them on their car ride.

The ice cream place on the fifth avenue was your favorite because it was where Chris took you on your first date. Both the children went for chocolate ice creams and Chris cleaned them up after they were done anything. It was so wholesome to watch him perform his dad duties.

“Then Oliver tried to eat dirt and the teacher gave him a time out.” You never understood why your son was friends with that boy because all he ever cared about was dirt.

“That’s why I hate boys. They are dirty.”

“That’s right, bubba. They are all dirty and disgusting. You stay away from all of them.” Gently nudging him with your shoulders, you playfully scoffed at him. He was sometimes very protective of his children.

“Ollie said girls also have icky germs.”

“Yes. You also stay away from them.” Chris was full on laughing at the situation right now because both the kids were in some serious thoughts.

“Okay dadda.” They both started skipping on the side walk and already started bickering about who was their dad’s favorite. He took you in his arms and kissed you on the forehead.

“Thank you for all this, babe. I love you.” He was truly thankful for you and for everything that you brought in his life.

“I love you too. Now let’s buckle them in before they start pushing each other again.”

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N: Dad Chris Evans is a dream so I wanted to write a little blurb related to this idea. Hope you guys enjoyed it. You guys can send in requests but I will get to them a little bit later because I am focusing on my drafts right now. Tell me if you guys want to be added to the tag list.

Taglist: @justile

Like, comment and reblog.

[skellebonez]

32. Are you aware of how much money you spent? Tang and Pigsy

go wild god of fanfic prompts, go wild

I WOULDN'T GO THAT FAR ANON JDFKLSJFAS But that's very sweet of you to say! And I couldn't pass up a great chance to write these two as the old (but not that old) married couple I know them to be in my heart. I tried something a little experimental, this isn't exactly how I would normally write them but I had a little idea and wanted to see what I could do with it.

Are you aware of how much money you spent? 

Tang loved Pigsy. And he wasn't afraid of who knew that fact.

"You sure you wanna come with me to the market after... you know,” Pigsy said with a shrug as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Tang knew. He remembered the events of quite a few months ago very well. Over half a year if he remembered correctly. It was the last time he had gone with the chef to purchase his ingredients at the market, not wanting to go anywhere close to what was likely still far too close to the lair of the Spider Queen.

Especially not after their later encounters on the new year and the following weeks.

“I’m sure.”

It wasn’t as if they didn’t spend pretty much all their time together anyway. Tang had work, of course he did, and he wasn’t always in the shop 24/7. But whenever he could take his work on the go or take a break or just have the day off he would be by the chef’s side. He always had been for as long as he could remember since their first meeting in college.

At first it was simply from a sense of loyalty to an old friend. He’d kept in touch with Pigsy since they had graduated together, went to the restaurant from day one since it opened, and went back almost every day since then.

And then... he’d lost his apartment, an accidental electrical fire no one could have prevented and he had been glad no one was hurt, and Pigsy had just offered him his spare room like it was nothing.

Tang could have possibly stayed in a hotel until he was able to find another apartment, at least for a while. But not forever. Not the way people who knew who he really was thought he could.

Once someone learned you were the descendant of a long distant cousin of the Tang Sanzang they had a tendency to assume and want things from you after all.

He wasn't in any way rich, far from it. But people thought he was the second they learned he was related to Tang Sanzang and he was just well off enough for people to assume they were right. Just enough for people to expect more from him than he could really give. And he gave all the same, scared to disappoint. Scared to be left alone. Scared to be alone.

Not Pigsy, though. He didn't tell the chef for a long while before moving in and not for quite some time after, guilt from not revealing who he was making Tang leave him far more money than would be his reasonable share of the rent despite the fact he didn't really have it to spare, and the charade would only last as long as Pigsy was willing to ignore that.

It took 1 month and 28 bowls of noodles that Tang vastly overpaid for before Pigsy dropped an overstuffed envelope with all the excess money (which was really nearly all the money he could spare) he had given the chef right into his lap while he was attempting to study a book on their now shared couch.

Pigsy barely got out his question of "why?" before Tang buckled under the pressure and revealed everything.

His heritage.

His past with others.

His feelings.

That last one had been an accident. Truly it had. He'd never planned on telling Pigsy that he had developed a crush on him ever since he had asked him to taste test some of the recipes for his shop. That he kept going to the shop not because the food was amazing (even though it absolutely was, the best he'd ever had and he was certain ever would have) but because he just wanted to see Pigsy more. That the day he'd asked Tang to move into his spare room in his own apartment his heart had skipped a beat and he wondered if there was a deity out there both enjoying the idea of giving him everything he wanted on a silver platter while also reveling in the idea of it being snatched away in an instant because he was certain Pigsy had never liked him back.

Well. Was certain.

Until Pigsy stared at him for a few second too long before a lopsided grin spread on his face and he ignored every single other part of his confession to ask "you had a crush on me too?"

It had taken a minute or two for them to realize they were both hopeless idiots who had been mutually pining for each other the entire time.

They felt pretty silly after that, having lived together for a month when they probably could have been doing so long before.

~

"You don't have to keep givin me all this, you know," Pigsy said firmly once everything was out in the open, gesturing to the envelope that Tang now held in his hands.

"I know," Tang admitted, worrying his fingers over the edges. "It's just... everyone else always wanted more from me and... I was scared, I guess..."

"I'm not everyone else." Pigsy gently took hold of Tang's hand, giving it a careful squeeze. "I don't care who your great uncle or cousin or whoever was. I mean, I do, cause they're your family!" The chef corrected himself, flushing a deep crimson in embarrassment. "But you could be related to nobodies or a king and that wouldn't make you less you to me. I like you for you! I... am I makin any sense? I didn't go to college to sound nice, I went for business stuff!"

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere in Tang's chest, making him squeeze the chef's hand back.

"You are," he said, feeling a lightness inside him that he didn't realize he hadn't felt in a long time. "I get it. I like you for you too, Pigsy."

"Good," the chef said, a chuckle of his own resounding in unison. "Good..."

The two sat for a moment longer, staring at each other before Tang started to lean forward. Pigsy followed, just as he had with the laughter.

It didn't take long for noses to bump each other awkwardly and for the two of them to burst into cackles as they realized they would need to remember to turn their heads before they kissed.

And then they shared their first.

~

They'd been together for years after that. Scholar and chef, old college buddies now roommates turned boyfriends and then later husbands. Most people didn't even know they were married at all, "if they couldn't see it when it was right in front of their faces why explain it" was Tang and Pigsy's mutual reasoning. And for those that did know, some people didn't really understand their relationship. Not with how they carried on with the whole "freeloader" thing.

But that was because of one of Pigsy's only requests when they started dating.

"Don't feel like you gotta pay me for anything, ok? I don't know what other people have said to you, but you don't gotta do that with me."

Tang liked to take that a little far, admittedly, for the fun of it with the noodle orders at the shop. He couldn't help it, he loved everything about Pigsy! His smile, how much he cared behind his gruff exterior, his cooking (obviously), and how cute he was when he would let out that exasperated sigh at the end of the month and just look at Tang's tab as he took out whatever was extra in his half of the month's rent to pay for all but a few yuan of it and just change into that soft smile all over again.

The tab was real, but Tang always paid it at the end of the month. Even if Pigsy always insisted behind the scenes that he didn't have to. He could just stop giving Pigsy the extra cash and they'd wash their hands of the tab and the freeloading completely if he wanted to.

But Tang liked teasing his husband too much and Pigsy was happy as long as Tang was alright with that.

Something in the back of Tang's mind wondered if he was still just scared though, despite everything. As if the ideas of his youth were too deep seated to really go away, intrusive thoughts needling into his brain in a way that would need something even more life altering than he already gone through to get them to leave, and he kept the tab and the teasing around just for some extra security so he would know he'd get to see Pigsy's exasperated smile and hear him say he could stop again. He was certain he was just overthinking things, something he did more often than he would like to admit.

Of course... that was until Spider Queen.

It hadn't been a good morning already, the selection at the market had been poor and Tang was tired from a long work week. Pigsy had been determined to find the right ingredients for... something that, frankly, Tang couldn't remember after all these months. What he did remember was the way the Spider Queen drew Pigsy in, despite his sniping at him while they were tied up he knew that the chef really was only after actual vegetable, and being in that lair.

It was awful.

They hadn't been down there long, but it was long enough for Tang to suggest Pigsy stay away from the market entirely and order his food via online delivery. Pigsy thought he'd been jealous at first, until he realized that Tang was just... scared. Scared of Pigsy getting hurt, scared of losing him. Just scared.

Until MK had shown up there really was no telling if they would have made it out. And that scared Tang. A lot.

Pigsy didn't stop going to the market entirely, but for Tang's peace of mind he bought most of his food via delivery like he suggested and took MK with him every time instead. Tang refused to go back, not when he knew how close that stand was.

And then the Lunar New Year happened and Tang no longer really felt safe anywhere.

Oh he acted like everything was fine alright, but he knew Pigsy could tell how defeated he was in knowing that Spider Queen and her crew could just show up anywhere at any time now. It left him tired, having trouble sleeping, and just emotionally exhausted.

Until this morning. When he woke up before Pigsy and got dressed and ready to go and suggested they go to the market together.

He was tired. Too tired.

Tired of letting himself be afraid. Of Spider Queen. Of the market. Of his old intrusive thoughts.

After all he had used a giant gun sword on that one spider guy with the pony tail who insisted on teasing Pigsy for some reason. And went through whatever happened with that weird shadow puppet guy. Why be afraid anymore after all that weirdness?

So at the market they were, looking over the selection of ingredients together for the first time in months almost as if nothing had happened. No one would have been able to tell except for the way Pigsy kept looking over at Tang to make sure he was alright.

Tang loved that about Pigsy too.

“Tang you don’t have t-”

“I want to,” the scholar said firmly, handing his card to the merchant they had stopped at over Pigsy’s head before the other even had a chance to argue further.

“Tang!” Pigsy yelped as his card was handed back, gesturing to the bag of food he was being handed shortly after. “Are you aware of how much money you spent? That stuff’s expensive!”

“I know,” Tang said nonchalantly, smiling softly as he turned to head to the next stall. “I told you, I wanted to buy them.”

“But why?” Pigsy insisted, looking a bit lost at having to be the one to follow someone else through the market for once. “You know I’d never make you pay for anything... well, heh, except your tab that you insist on keeping open.”

“About that" Tang said, smiling softly as he turned back to the man he loved for so long. "I don't think we need to keep that open anymore."

Pigsy froze, staring at Tang in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. He blinked, looking at the bag of ingredients, thinking about the amount of yuan Tang had spent before he finally caught on to what the scholar had so sneakily done.

The exact amount down to the last little bit.

Paid in full.

"You're serious," The chef said as he took in Tang's expression carefully, reaching out to grab his free hand softly and squeeze. "What brought this on?"

"Just thought it was time to let go of old fears," Tang answered with a shrug, and he barely had time to react before Pigsy tugged him forward with a tilt of his head and pressed their lips together.

Tang didn't keep count of how many times they kissed over the years, who would after so long, but he was sure he'd remember this one as vividly as the first.

"Let's get back," Pigsy said after he pulled back, smiling warm and bright and just looking the way being home felt. "MK's probably waiting to get that out of the city training started and we don't wanna keep them all waiting."

He loved Pigsy.

And the one thing he was never ever afraid of was who knew that.

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love-Chapter 1

Hey y’all, sooooo this is inspired by Sylvie’s Love. It was such a sweet movie that made me feel all the feels, so I felt the need to write a love story for our Thicc Kang. Seriously, go watch it on Prime if you can. Let me know what y’all think, and check out my masterlist if you haven’t already! I have a few one shots and a series for both our king and our prince. 

This one’s on the shorter side, but enjoy!

Word count: 2992

When M’Baku integrated the Jabari into the rest of Wakandan society he had some concerns about there being some cultural friction. Having been separated for centuries, M’Baku assumed his people would have a hard time with adjusting to the new union, but as it turned out he didn't have to worry. Above all, he was worried about lowland Wakandans possibly subjecting his people to their prejudices, but it turned out that they have a pretty similar society to the Jabari and they meld really well. The different tribes of Wakanda all live in their separate provinces and have their own ways of living just like the Jabari, the only difference being that they interacted with the larger community that included the rest of Wakanda as well. 

The chief’s misconceptions and prejudices about the other Wakandans were soon wiped out and replaced with a love of his country. The whole of it, as opposed to just his domain. He even began to enjoy his trips to the city, still finding the advancements unnecessary but amazing nonetheless. Over time, he grew curious of the outside world after befriending Prince N’Jadaka. The prince would regale him with horror stories of life on the outside, some were personal others were from around the diaspora. 

However, M’Baku still couldn't understand the outside world, so King T’Challa decided  it would be best if he get to experience it for a while. At first, he was against it. Why would he want to experience such a horrible place? After much effort, T’Challa was able to convince him to spend three months in Oakland at the Outreach Center. At first, M’Baku thought the time span was excessive. He was Chief of the Jabari and had important duties to attend to, after all, he couldn’t just go galavanting halfway across the world just because he couldn’t grasp the concept of white supremacy. 

M’Baku made his way through the hallways of the royal palace and when he arrived at the large ornate door to the king’s office, the guards saluted him before parting and letting him pass. He raised his fist to knock when T’Challa spoke up from inside.

“Enter.”

M’Baku cautiously opened the door and looked at the king with confusion written all over his chiseled face.

“How did you-”

“The heart shaped herb gives me enhanced hearing among many other things. Come, sit down. How has the tour been so far?”

In addition to his time in the outside world, M’Baku had chosen to learn more about the tribes of Wakanda. He had spent one weekend a month with a different tribe to understand their way of life. He only just started but so far the river tribe was in the running for second favorite.

“It is going well, umhlobo wam. You all are not too different from Jabari, aside from the frivolous gadgets.”

T’Challa smiled at his stubborn friend’s unwillingness to accept their technology. Getting him to wear Kimoyo beads was harder than bathing a cat, but he eventually came around but only for communication purposes. Some Jabari, especially the younger ones took right to it, but most were still living their traditional lives. 

“I noticed the same thing when I stayed with you...the second time, clearly.” 

The two chuckled at the now fond memory of the king almost dying at the hands of his newly beloved cousin. 

“Clearly. So have you decided on a departure date yet?”

“Yes, I will be leaving with you and staying for about a week to check on the centers myself and help you acclimate. Obviously N’Jadaka will be there as well but I figured you’d want someone with you that’s a little more…”

“Level headed?”

“N-, well, yes, but also no. He is doing well at the Center, but he is still...himself.”

The prince was a wildcard. One you want to have in your hand, but a wildcard nonetheless. M'Baku  needed someone with a slightly longer fuse and a calmer disposition to show him around. 

“Well I would not have it any other way, he is quite entertaining at times.”

A grin creeped up the king’s face as he thought of how his cousin’s progress had allowed for the parts of personality that aren’t rooted in anger to shine through. 

“I agree. So, since I’ll be accompanying you we have to leave tomorrow.”

“I will alert my council.”

——————

The heat in California was marginally better than Wakanda, but still too high for M’Baku’s liking. He would have preferred to visit in the middle of their winter when the temperatures were milder, but anything over 60 degrees felt like a sauna to him. He also wasn’t used to having so much unprotected skin showing, but the weather called for his arms and legs to be free from fabric. His size and physique made him hyper visible and he noticed several of the volunteers doing double-takes as he and T’Challa walked through the halls of the Wakandan Outreach Center. He knew some of the attention was because the king didn’t visit often, but when he would catch eyes lingering on him he’d smirk and keep on moving.

T’Challa took him on a tour of the Center that ended with N’Jobu’s memorial in room 1401, which was preserved like a museum exhibit. The room stood as a reminder of Wakanda’s dark past, and a promise to never repeat it. M’Baku walked around the memorial, silently paying his respects to the murdered Wakandan prince and taking in the scene. The small plaques around the room gave visitors information about Prince N’Jobu, his family, his mission, and his death.  

“Why did you go with these instead of virtual pages? Or whatever they are called...” M’Baku asked.

“Holograms. I felt it would take away from the feeling of heaviness this room invokes on you when you enter. This memorial needs to be both seen and felt for it to be effective.”

M’Baku nodded slowly, eyes still roaming around the room.

“Come, my friend,” T’Challa clapped him on the shoulder. “You will have plenty of time to come back here if you wish. For now, let me show you to your office.”

“Office?” The two walked down yet another hallway and headed up to the top floor.

“Yes, you didn’t think this was a vacation did you?” The king chuckled.

“Well, no but I assumed it would be more study than work.”

“It is both. You will be our Jabari Ambassador while you are here. I would like for you to come up with a skillshare program that will allow for the kids here in Oakland to learn your ways. One of the purposes of our Outreach Center is to bring about cultural understanding between us and our diaspora siblings, who we are now referring to as the Lost Tribe at the prince’s request. For now, we just have Oakland but eventually I plan to expand the program. Shuri is over the STEM program, Nakia handles social outreach, and N’Jadaka keeps the whole thing running smoothly, and you will make sure the Jabari are represented in our curriculum.”

“It would be my honor to bring Jabari ways to the Lost children.”

“I’m glad, now here is your office,” T’Challa pointed to a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of the bay. “It is not a throne room, but it is quite nice.”

The king then took the time to show him the basic technology he would need to use and some of the more advanced technology at his disposal he knew he would probably never touch.

“You will have plenty of time to settle in tomorrow, for now I will show you your apartment,” T’Challa led the way back through the center and out to the car which took them about 10 minutes away to an apartment building. 

“Our buildings are much more impressive,” M’Baku remarked.. It warmed T’Challa’s heart to hear his friend refer to Wakanda proudly instead of just his own corner of the country, and he let out a chuckle. Things really can change…

“I completely agree, my friend.”

The apartment turned out to be a loft that was the perfect size for the large Jabari Chief. The high ceilings, the open space, the floor to ceiling windows, the exposed brick...M’Baku actually liked it. 

“Worthy of a chief?” T’Challa asked.

“That it is,” M’Baku said, walking around and taking in the space. The restaurant style kitchen was fully stocked with all his vegetarian favorites and some soon to be new favorites as well. He picked up a square package and stared at it in confusion, never having seen the meat-substitute before. “What is this to-fu?”

“It’s a very popular protein source made from soybeans.”

M’Baku nodded then moved to the living space, surprised to see a television, but the king explained he would need to stay up on current events, or maybe even watch a movie every now and then.

When T’Challa showed him the thermostat, he was so ecstatic he immediately put it on the lowest setting.

“I should leave before you freeze me out. If you need anything I’m just a kimoyo bead aw-,” T’Challa cut himself off when another, more important thought occurred to him. “Oh, I forgot to mention you’ll be getting an assistant. I sent three files to your beads, take a look and hire whichever one fits you best”

“Thank you, brother.” The two shook hands and saluted each other before the king left to give M’Baku his space. 

The chief admired the Jabari wood furniture and the furs on the couch, plopping down to try to figure out how to work the television. After some time, he found a news station and only lasted about 5 minutes before he needed to turn it off. Instead, he accidentally switched to a thing called HBO Max and clicked on a show where the main character looked familiar somehow.

“In West Philadelphia, born and raised,” the theme song played over and over and over as M’Baku binged his first tv show, laughing the whole way.

A few hours passed and he was brought back from tv land by a rumble in his stomach. Not in the mood to cook, he decided to explore the neighborhood and look for food instead. 

After just a few minutes M’Baku came to a stop in front of a place called Cafe V. He stopped to take a look at the menu in the window when he felt a small, or regular sized, person bump into his side. His eyes travelled down to see who would dare shove Lord M’Baku, Chief of the Jabari, when his eyes landed on a caramel-complected goddess with a bright teal fade. His face immediately softened as she stammered through an apology.

“I-I am so s-sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I got a text and, it doesn’t matter, are you ok?”

He struggled to find the words.

“Yes, are you? That was quite the impact.”

She was surprised by his kindness and gave him a smile.

“It was, wasn’t it?” The two shared a quick laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m running late to meet a friend...literally.” 

“Well I would not want to keep you, but please be mindful of your surroundings. I am sure everyone is not as nice as I am.”

“That’s for sure. Oh, and by the way,” she leaned in as if to tell him a secret. He leaned in to listen to whatever she had to tell him. “There’s a Black-owned vegan restaurant around the corner there.”

M’Baku’s eyes lit up, “Two things I love.”

“Black people and vegan food?” 

“Precisely,” a grin overtook his face and she couldn’t help but stare at his adorable gap. 

“Well I really have to go, nice meeting you stranger!” 

And with that, she was off before he could even get her name. The best he could do is hope she’d crash into him on the sidewalk again one day.

“I really hope she is more careful,” he said to himself as he rounded the corner to The V Spot.

——————

Monday morning, M’Baku arrived at the outreach center full of nervous energy. He had wanted to look nice for his first day, but his tunic felt like it was cutting off his circulation the closer he got to the building. When he finally arrived in his office, he found it full of royals. 

“Nigga you look uncomfortable as hell in that,” N’Jadaka was, naturally, the first to call out the obvious. Thankfully, the Queen came to his rescue.

“Stop it Daka, you’d look uncomfortable in Jabari attire,” Nakia said as she undid his top button. “There. Better?”

“Much. I did not want to ruin the look.”

“Turning blue ruins the look, genius,” Princess Shuri chimed in. 

“Sister, he wasn’t blue...yet. If we hadn’t gotten here when we did the Jabari would’ve been out a Chief,” the king added. 

“Ha. You all are very funny. Are you done?”

“We’re just fucking with you, man. How you liking the loft?”

“It is wonderful. I am almost embarrassed to say I have watched the television for several hours. Have you ever seen the Fresh Prince of Bel Air? It is hilarious!”

“Aw hell yeah, that’s like thee funniest show hands down. You know what? While you’re here, I’m introducing you to alllllll the Black entertainment. You’re gonna love it, niggas stay laughing at something.”  

“Speaking of, I thought… that word-“

“You can say nigga. You’re a nigga too, my nigga.” 

T’Challa leaned over to M’Baku, “It is an adjustment, but the reclaiming of slurs can be a powerful thing for oppressed peoples. And it’s just so versatile.”

“What an interesting language…”

“Are we teaching an English class or are we meeting about curriculum…?” Shuri asked impatiently before her brother pinched her arm.

“Ouch! I’m telling mother.”

“Go ahead, I’ll tell her you’ve been sneaking out at night to hang with your little friends.”

Shuri shot her cousin a deadly glare, making him put his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t say shit. He’s a walking lie-detector, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Nakia and M’Baku snickered at the situation they had no part in. Nakia, because she knew her husband had known for quite some time and would never snitch on his baby sister, but always had Dora following her at a safe distance. M’Baku enjoyed the moment because he and the Princess had a love-hate relationship and seeing her in “trouble” tickled him. 

The moment passed and the five of them moved to a conference room to discuss the upcoming summer. Shuri advocated for a nanobots workshop on weekends and Nakia laid out her plans for summer programs. The king and prince listened closely and N’Jadaka gave his input here and there. T’Challa mostly nodded along, as this was more so his cousin’s job than his. He just signs the checks. 

“...and Monaé just hired three new dance instructors because our classes are so popular with the community. She’ll discuss it in the Department Head meeting later-“

“Is that not what this is?” M’Baku asked, genuinely confused.

“If anything this is more of an executive meeting. We each oversee our departments, but have help running them. That’s who we will meet with in about 15 minutes.” Nakia responded, checking her beads for the time.

The executives finished their meeting just as other people started to roll in. Kitchen staff brought up some breakfast for everyone, and as soon as M’Baku stood to grab a bagel his knees nearly buckled. There she was, Miss In A Hurry herself. He tried to play it cool and keep his smile under wraps, but when she caught sight of the blinding whiteness from the other side of the room she recognized him immediately and waved. 

“Friend of yours…?” T’Challa asked quietly with a raised brow. The man had only been here 24 hours…

“She ran into me on the street the other day and recommended an amazing restaurant. I should go say thank you…”

“Yes you should...why aren’t you?”

“I-“

“Mhm,” T’Challa said before turning to the rest of the attendees. “Everyone, please welcome Lord M’Baku, Chief of the Jabari. He will be here the next three months integrating Jabari culture into our curriculum. As many of you know, the Jabari-“

M’Baku tuned T’Challa out, staring instead at the girl with the teal fade. The look on her face when the king introduced him made him want to go hold her. It was painstakingly obvious that she was embarrassed to have almost run over royalty. 

“-until we started the integration process a year ago. Now, Lord M’Baku you may have the floor.”

M’Baku cleared his throat and shook himself from his daydream. 

“Uh, hello. I am sure it will be a pleasure to work here with you all. I would like to meet with each department head at some point this week to discuss how to make your programs more inclusive of Jabari customs. We can start scheduling those after we are finished here.”

The meeting went on for about an hour with M’Baku and the department heads furiously taking notes. M’Baku was pleasantly surprised that he wasn’t the only one using a physical notepad and pen. He looked to the stranger from earlier and noticed her bright notebook with a multicolored neon leopard cub in the middle. The name on the side read “Lisa Frank”, but he wasn’t sure if that was her name or the artist. She used several different colored pens to take her notes, and the red cat eye glasses he didn’t see on her face the other day kept slipping down her nose. She was a colorful one, that was for sure.

By the time the meeting ended he still hadn’t caught her name, but he knew she was head of the Arts department and that he would meet with her the next day. He could wait until then.

Next Chapter

[flowerpowell]

The Royal Holiday Romance (Liam x MC)

PART FIVE

A/N: We’re almost done with this mini series! Thank you to everyone who leaves feedback - it’s such a motivation to keep writing! I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter as well!

Rating: G

Tagging: @gardeningourmet​ @delightfullypinkglitter​ @twinkleallnight​ @kingliam-rys​ @sfb123​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @gkittylove99​ @texaskitten30​ @kingliam2019​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ @lodberg​ @shanzay44​ ❣

“Lunch?”

Victoria smiled at the message Liam just sent her. She had just shot her scene of the day and was packing her bag to head back to the hotel.

“Gladly.”

“I can be at your hotel in twenty minutes, is that alright?”

“Perfect :)”

Twenty minutes to change her clothes and refresh herself wasn’t a lot but she wanted to see Liam so bad that she was actually glad she didn’t have to wait too long. She was falling for him, slowly but steadily. It was the first time she let herself catch any feelings after having her heart broken by a senior in her drama club, when she was a freshman. The guy who had been her crush for a few months, broke up with her on the day she told him she loved him, claiming he couldn’t be in a serious relationship with a freshman because he had a promising career and she didn’t.

Victoria shook her head trying to get rid of the memories. It was a long time ago. And Liam was different. And most importantly, he wasn’t any famous or concerned about his career.

~~~~

“I’m telling her today,” Liam murmured, putting on his coat. Drake’s raised eyebrow suggesting he didn’t believe his best friend’s promises.

“I really am. That’s why I invited her to lunch today. I’ll be honest with her.”

“I hope so. She was honest with you and it’s only fair you tell her the truth as well.”

“I know. But you can’t blame me for not wanting her to see me as the King. I really enjoyed being just Liam with her.” Liam sighed. Why was his life so complicated?

“I understand but I also think that if you want to continue it, no relationship should be based on a lie,” Drake replied.

Relationship.

Liam smiled at the thought but his smile quickly disappeared. He wasn’t sure if she would want to continue this relationship or whatever it was after learning the truth. Dating a King wasn’t anything like dating a normal guy. She said she didn’t like being in the center of attention, which was why she was struggling as an actress but being a King’s girlfriend or wife would be putting her literally in the center of attention.

What wife? Liam, stop thinking about it. You’re getting ahead of yourself, yet again.

It was so easy to think about it, though. He felt understood, he felt like a part of him, a long forgotten part of him was unlocked again with her. And it was mostly because… she saw him as Liam. He was just Liam.

If only my life was easier.

~~~~

“I don’t understand why this place is so empty this time of the day! The food is delicious,” Victoria commented as she took another bite of her lasagne.

Liam bit his lip not wanting to admit it was the most popular place in the town but he closed it for them to have a conversation. He didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing him before Victoria learned the truth.

“And the owner is so nice! I don’t have that many followers but maybe if I posted a picture from here on my Instagram, it’d get more customers. Oh! Or I can ask Hana to post the picture! She has twenty million followers!” Victoria took out her phone and snapped a few pictures.

“That’s so kind of you,” Liam noticed. He was falling more and more in love with her. She cared about people she didn’t even know and she wanted to help them. She’d make a great Queen. Liam couldn’t stop thinking what it would feel like to be cared for by her just the same, if she was his wife.

“Victoria, there’s… something I wanted to discuss with you,” he started. Victoria put down her phone and locked her eyes with his.

“Did something happen?”

“No… Yes. Well…”

“Okay, wait, I think… I think I get it,” she said sadly.

“You… You do?” Did she google him? Did someone tell him he was a King? Did—

“I do. You had a great time with me but I live in America and you live here and I’m an actress, well, a crappy one if you ask me but whatever, and you don’t think it’s gonna work out and maybe it’s better if we’re friends.” She finished and Liam’s eyes widened.

“That’s not exactly what I planned to say,” he ran his hand through his hair. It was a nervous twitch that he had and the one Victoria always noticed.

“You probably would say something more elaborate with your lovely accent; mine is just a short, harsh, American version of it,” she tried to laugh but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I… wasn’t trying to break up with you… I mean… We’re not dating…Or are we?”

“No… I think? I don’t know… I thought, after yesterday…” she trailed off and quickly composed herself. “I probably got carried away. I’m sorry. I understood it all wrong. Of course we can be friends.”

Liam blinked a few times trying to understand her chaotic speech. She truly was the most interesting woman he ever met.

“No, I thought the same. I mean, about dating. I mean…” Goodness, he was awkward. For someone who gave speeches on a daily basis, he was very inarticulate at the moment. “I never asked you properly to be my girlfriend but I would very much like you to be one.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “So that’s what you wanted to talk about? I assumed you wanted to stop seeing me.”

“No! Never!” The owner of the restaurant looked up from his phone at Liam’s raised voice. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. Quite the opposite, I was hoping we could see each other more but I wasn’t sure if you would want to.” Because I’m the King of the country, my schedule is busy and I lied to you, he added in his thoughts.

“Why wouldn’t I want to? Liam, I might have met you recently but I feel like I know a lot about you. And I told you a lot about me, too. And… And even though, I’m not the first to jump into a relationship like that, I feel that what we have… would be a good base for our… relationship. I think,” she mumbled.

Liam closed his eyes. She did know him. She knew him better than all the nobles he’d known for ages. She got to know the side of him that was unavailable for everyone else. She got to know Liam. And he couldn’t pretend he didn’t like it. He loved being Liam. Not King Liam. Liam. Just Liam. And he could be that with her.

“Does it mean… you do want to…” He started, unsure of where he was going.

“Be your girlfriend?” He smiled at her faintly. “Absolutely.”

~~~~

“So just for the record.” Drake was pacing back and forth in Liam’s bedroom. “You met up with her to tell her the truth… But ended up asking her to be your girlfriend… Without actually telling her the truth?”

“So it may seem.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Drake, please. I know what you’re trying to tell me but I have no idea what to do.”

“Um… tell her truth?! Maybe?”

“I wish it was that easy,” Liam huffed.

“Would be easier if you told her who you are from the very beginning.”

“I know! I tried! I couldn’t! I don’t… I don’t want to lose her,” he added quietly.

After lunch, Liam took her on a walk and they spend a whole day talking and kissing. He felt so happy he couldn’t say anything. To say he scared to lose her would be an understatement. He was terrified.

“Listen, Li… You know I want the best for you but the chances that you’ll lose her are higher when she doesn’t know. The longer you wait… Let me just say, it may end very badly for you.”

Liam sighed as Drake left his room. He knew it. He knew he shouldn’t wait so long with telling her. But for some reason, being with her made him forget about being a King.

How could he ever bring that up?

~~~~

He couldn’t tell her.

They met up every single day for almost two weeks and the topic was never brought up. He couldn’t. When he was with her, he forgot about the whole world.

Every evening, when he came back to the palace, with a lovesick smile on his face, he couldn’t look Drake in the eyes because he knew what his best friend would tell him.

And he’d be right.

But Drake never saw the way Victoria looked at him. He didn’t know how Victoria made Liam feel. And he could never know, how nearly impossible it was for a King to find something like that.

He was equally surprised and happy that Victoria still hadn’t figured out who he was. He once broached the subject and Victoria told him she never checked the Internet or television or read any magazines. She said she hated gossip and didn’t want to read anything about her online. Liam sighed with relief at her words. His secret was safe, at least for a little longer.

He was also happy when Victoria told him she prolonged her stay in Cordonia. She finished shooting all of her scenes but decided to stay a bit longer, at least until Hana would be finished with her scenes. Which meant she was staying for at least five more weeks.

That meant five more weeks with her. 

And five more weeks of hiding the truth.

~~~~

Victoria was walking to her hotel straight from the set. It was a beautiful day, sunny but cold, and she decided to take a longer way home. Besides going on set and dates with Liam, she didn’t walk anywhere by herself. She didn’t have to. Liam showed her around and she felt she knew Cordonia very well. She was strolling along the street, admiring the view when she noticed two girls, teenagers maybe, pointing their fingers at her and laughing.

Oho, someone does watch my crappy movies and recognizes me.

She smiled at them and walked past them, ignoring the laughter.

Victoria didn’t even manage to walk five more meters before she noticed a woman sizing her up.

Another fan? She wondered as she smiled lightly. The woman didn’t like it. She came up to Victoria and jostled her.

“What are you doing?” Victoria asked but the woman spitted on her.

“Whore!” She yelled, making all the passersby stop and look at them.

“Excuse me? I think you mistook me for someone.” Victoria took a step back. She never played a whore in any movie and she was sure the woman made a mistake.

“You’re a whore! Leave our King alone, you American bitch! You won’t get famous using him!” The woman yelled. Victoria quickly backed away, noticing a few people taking photos. She ran back to her hotel room and closed the door. To calm down, she took a long shower and made herself a cup of tea.

“Tori?” She heard Hana call out.

“Here!” Victoria answered from her bedroom. Now that she was calm, she decided to go online and see why people were taking pictures of her and what happened. She had an uneasy feeling that the woman didn’t make any mistake, however, she still didn’t understand what she was saying.

“You okay? I’ve heard someone attacked you on the street?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t an attack. I think a lady mistook me for someone. But some people took pictures of me and I want to check if they wrote anything.”

Hana nodded and sat down next to her friend as Tori opened a new tab and googled her name. Both Victoria and Hana raised their eyebrows when they saw the headlines: 

American Media Whore Seduces the King! How Victoria Brooks, an actress known to no one is using King Liam to get on top. EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS.

With shaking hands Victoria opened the article, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. Hana looked at her concerned.

“I don’t understand, Tori… You met the King?”

“I didn’t! I never even saw him!” Victoria was nearly crying. “He never showed up at the dinner and I never heard of him again!”

Victoria closed her eyes as the page was loading. She always hated attention but it seemed like she couldn’t escape it. But who came up with such lies?

The page loaded and Victoria saw pictures of her and Liam; their date in the park, when they were leaving her hotel, them kissing on the beach… But what did it have to do with the King?

She turned to Hana and saw her friend, staring at the photos with her eyes wide open in shock.

“That’s… the guy you’ve been seeing?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“Yes. That’s Liam. I just don’t understand it… Is he related to the King? Or what?”

“Tori… This is the King. Liam. King Liam. He’s the King of Cordonia.”

--

[heliolicious]

napoleone della rosa's diary - from cristoforo della rosa's point of view

chapter 2: confusion

one day, napoleone had a girlfriend. she appeared very suddenly in his life, the girl of the restaurant confessed to him, a spring day, that she wanted to be his girlfriend. and my brother, a 17 year old, bless his naive being, gave into it without questioning anything. he never got anybody going up to him and asking him out like that, everyone preferred to be away from him. because he was the weird one. the smart ass chatterbox. the one everyone found boring.

portia de amarettis, this was the girl's name. i saw her, multiple times, at home. she seemed to be highly spoilt and respected by our parents, who even started to treat napoleone himself, a little better. something didn't sit right with me about it. something felt fishy, but napoleone was blinded by the feeling of finally having someone by his side. i can't tell if he really ever loved portia, or if he was only ever in love with the sole idea of being loved by someone.

"april 12nd, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

this morning i've been on a date with portia, my girlfriend. we have two almost every week, my parents have never been happier than this, it almost feels like they care about my happiness and my freedom, which is pretty unbelievable. we ate together, and i paid for it to try to be a gentleman. i feel like i took a wrong step, however, when i asked her how she was feeling about making love with me. she is two years older than me, i supposed she already had more experience, but she said she wasn't ready yet. and looked a little upset when she left.

so i took some time to think about where did i go wrong, hoping she wouldn't be upset. i took a walk at the park. and i met a boy, who didn't laugh in my face and didn't call me names when everyone else did. he seemed to be much taken aback from me, and did not want me to see his face. this didn't and won't stop me from being next to him. i'll see him again."

so he met a special friend. a special friend that in a matter of little time, became someway almost as important as portia in his life. but again, his dates with portia started to feel organized in the same way his parents organized and kept under their control his studying schedule. my brother would have wanted to spend an afternoon with his new friend, but sometimes, they set up a date for him and the girl three afternoons in a row. so he couldn't see his friend, for quite some time.

his girlfriend started to feel more like homework, during those days, leading my brother to think about it and realize, that maybe it wasn't as good as he thought. that maybe his heart didn't really beat for her precisely, nothing was in his heart when she smiled, he only ever felt something when he thought about receiving love. no matter whether it came from portia herself or not. until he realized what being suddenly lovestruck really meant.

when his friend showed up with a completely different face. a perfect one. a porcelain doll looking one.

"april 20th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

i am feeling weird. i have a girlfriend, so it can't be that my heart is racing for desire towards someone else. it should just be for the surprise, he said it's a curse that changed his appearance. never have i ever struggled to keep myself from kissing someone this hard. but he's a man. and i am one too. i don't know how to take this, not to mention, i am busy with portia. even if i never felt this way for her. this might just be the effect of the surprise for i have seen his new face. i have a date with portia, tomorrow. i'll see what do i feel about her and judge what's up with me."

"april 22th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

i don't know what to say, nor why i did it. there's nothing i want to write here, if not that i messed up, when portia leaned in for a kiss and i backed off. she thought i was upset because she didn't want to sleep with me yet. the truth is, i just don't know if i love her anymore. it saddens me, she seems to love me a lot. or at least she's doing anything to keep me. in all honesty, i fear what would happen if i told her the truth, or worse, if i told my parents. i can't even ask for my friend's opinion. it would require telling him i ache for a kiss of his. and it feels wrong."

i can't hide these pages of my brother's diary hurt me. because i've already read it all, and it makes me furious.

however, napoleone soon found out everyone, portia included, had been using him the whole time, for her family's restaurant had been falling into bankruptcy due to debts with passione, a huge mafia. the plan was getting her married to napoleone, joining the families together, to start a good total income for the two families, being the de amarettis restaurant the best one in the city and the one with most success. the only obstacle so far, had been the debts to fulfill with the rival mafia.

but now, napoleone's heart created another obstacle. when he found out portia never really loved him, and that her family and his own parents played him like a fiddle for money, he stabbed with a dagger all the pages that contained words of affection towards her. or that spoke about her in any case. it took me a little to understand the missing pieces and restore the pages i showed a second ago, but i was able to fix them quite well.

the last piece of this chapter doesn't require his diary anymore, however. after stabbing it with a dagger, he never spoke about her again, in his diary. so, i'm gonna have to expose something i spied in secret.

he mentioned in the first diary page i showed here, that he felt almost as if his parents had started to care about him, after he got together with portia. but he soon learnt at his own expenses that it was just for money. of course, my brother tried to delete her from his mind, even if it was not possible. he even let a lot of anger off, in secret. but when our father saw him set himself up all elegant and good looking, more than he looked like when he used to hang with portia, he questioned really hard where he was gonna go.

napoleone always tried to stay outside with his special friend the most he could, he did not want to stay inside, seeing our family angered him, and seeing lady delphine angered him more, since she knew about it and never told him. he trusted her deeply for years, and she gave his trust away too.

however, my brother was just trying to go outside and spend an afternoon with his friend, when our father stopped him.

"who is it?" he just asked. straight to the point. napoleone could just freeze on the spot and turn around. our mother, olympia, was just in the next room, but as i was spying in secret, i'm sure she was listening just as much. "not only you ruin what your mother and i had planned for you, money and a wedding, but you also have the guts of setting yourself up and leaving like this. almost everyday, instead of studying. there must be someone. is she... rich?"

"no. can i go?"

"is she known?"

"i don't owe you answers. i really... just wanna go-" a loud, smacking sound. when my brother refused to answer for the second time, our father lost his patience. he always snapped. too quickly. i had never seen it before, though. napoleone was the one who always got caught into it. his cheek hurt immensely. his glasses flew off.

"you don't have the power you think you hold, leone. you disobey your mother and i, you leave a betrothed behind for a random lady, a poor underdog god knows where you found. you've always been an obedient kid. what are you doing of your life?"

"she's not an underdog. he- she- ... she is someone i value."

our father stared at him. immensely. for some seconds. my fifteen year old mind didn't get what had happened, i used to ask myself what was wrong with having a male friend, but my current mind does understand what the whole situation truly meant, enough to tell about it. napoleone had slipped on it, and our father wasn't so stupid to not to notice. in fact, he stared at napoleone with a disgusted expression for seconds that felt neverending. and then, whispered under his breath. "you filthy f****t. whose son are you? not mine, for sure."

don't make me write that fully. our father said that word to him, and i didn't know what it meant, when i was fifteen. but now i know, and it gives me chills to think about the scene. the scene of my father taking a handful of my brother's hair to kick his nose, insulting him and telling him he was a disappointment. it was the first time, i ever heard napoleone scream in agony. our father sometimes slapped us if we didn't behave, but he never got so far.

when we were younger, napoleone had little to no muscle. and he was definitely thinner than me. now, it's the contrary, but at the time, it really mattered. the scene continued under my - hidden - eyes and under my mom's gaze, until my brother had a seizure and could just lie on the ground, not reacting, not answering to anything.

"i will find your son's filthy friend." our father murmured in our mother's ear. and i don't know what happened afterwards. all i know, is that i saw my brother's eyes widen and move towards them, as if he heard them despite the ongoing seizure. and the day after, i witnessed him shooting our father in the head.

"june 5th, 1992. (=napoleone's age: 18 / cristoforo's age: 15)

no, no you won't."

it was the beginning of the end.

[purple-scarf-mistress]

How to Save a Life

Spencer Reid x Jamie (my oc)

TW: ⚠️ suicide attempt ⚠️ Angst- Hurt/Comfort (This is why I chose to do my OC and not a y/n I think this could be triggering enough as is and I will not add to that by having it a y/n situation. Hope y’all don’t mind)

Note: inspired by my sad thoughts while listening to How to Save a Life by The Fray and doing the dishes today. This may not be my best fic but something that was cathartic to write. Wrote this a year ago and never published on Tumblr, but has been on other sites, please do not be worried about me. I am much better.

Work Text:

Ever since Jamie held a dying little girl in her arms and did everything she could to keep her alive till the paramedics came, she had been different. The warm welcoming light in her green eyes had become muted and distant. When the team finally got to Jamie and found her desperately trying to bring the little girl back, Hotch had to physically lift Jamie away from the body so the rest of the team and the coroner could do their work. It wasn’t until Morgan found Jamie's discarded gun and the killer shot in the head just a few yards away in another room that they realized the whole story.

Spencer had arrived at the scene late driving in from the station. He had seen Jamie covered in blood and staring off into the distance and knew something traumatic had happened. When he wrapped his arms around her she hadn’t responded. She didn’t avoid eye contact with her boyfriend either but her gaze was glassy, she was in shock. Nearly catatonic, Spencer took her back to the hotel and cleaned her up. She wouldn’t eat, talk, or sleep. The Jet ride back to Quantico seemed too long for the short flight that it was, with Jamie sitting pin straight on the couch not responding to anyone talking to her.

It had been several days since then and Jamie had gotten a little better it seemed. She still only spoke in one-word answers and only when someone asked her a direct question. Everyone on the team was worried about her but let her have her space. Jamie was warm and often times she was chatty, especially when she and Spencer went toe to toe for statistics and weird random facts of the day. The team and Spencer both missed the fiery personality the little redheaded girl brought into the office.

Spencer had been exceptionally worried about her but trying his hardest to support her from a distance. A few nights ago, Jamie asked Spencer for some space and told him she was going to go back to her own apartment. It wasn’t like her at all, and Spencer pressed her on if she was okay and it only escalated into them screaming at each other before she stomped out in a rush slamming the door behind her.

The next day Spencer apologized at the office and secretly took some of her paperwork to make it up to her, and to help her out. Her days at the office mostly consisted of zoning out while looking at the one open file in front of her. Until one day she came in and it was like the world had shifted back into place just a little bit.

“Spencer, I want you to have this.” Jamie handed Spencer her favorite book.

“Jamie, this is a first edition, it’s your favorite book and quite possibly your most prized possession, why would you give this to me?” Spencer asked, smiling slightly at the book in his hand.

“I love you, Spencer, and I love this book. I want the two things I may love most in this world to always be together.”

Spencer stooped down to kiss her cheek, “Ready to go to dinner with the team?”

“Actually, I uh, I am going to skip dinner tonight. I have….. Some work to catch up on.”

“Well I will skip too then, I can help you catch back up.”

“No, Spence, go have fun with everyone tonight, okay? Please, I need to do this on my own.”

“Stubborn as ever. You win. I am glad you are feeling better love.”

Jamie stood up on her tiptoes to hug around Spencer’s neck not caring about how affectionate she was being in the BAU office. She buried her face into his neck taking a long deep breath before letting go and walking out the door. Running his hand over the cover of the book, Spencer couldn’t help but think something about this was odd.

Morgan came up behind Spencer and clapped his hand down on his shoulder, “I hope you are once again ready to be defeated by chopsticks, the ladies picked were going to Chinese food.”

“You know according to a 2014 study 23% of people can’t use chopsticks with another 24% of people never having tried them to begin with?”

Morgan rolled his eyes walking out of the office and got into one of the cars with his friends.

“I am so glad Jamie is feeling better! She was so cute today, she gave me her sketchbook with all these cute drawings of all of us!” Garcia beamed holding it up.

“Yea I was surprised. She seemed so down lately and today she was so tender. She must have told me 10 times today that I was such a good “Big Brother” and to make sure to always keep that going, to promise her I would never stop that” Morgan smiled thinking about how it was the first time he had seen her smile in a couple of weeks.

Spencer’s brow furrowed listening to the team talk. Her favorite book, her sketchbook, Don’t change promises…

Getting out of the car at the restaurant he walked up to the other team members and stopped them before they walked inside, “Did Jamie do anything special or give you anything today? She gave me her favorite book and morgan and Penelope had similar things”

“Actually yea, she gave me a copy of my first book with handwritten notes written in the margins, I thought it was a bit odd but she can be a little odd like you boy genius” Rossi teased.

Spencer blew right past that comment looking at JJ, Emily, and Hotch, “and you guys?”

“JJ and I got a picture for our desks of the three of us from one of our girls nights, I think Garcia took the picture, right,” Emily said looking at Reid confused, and then at JJ who’s face started to make the same concerned look at Spencer’s.

“I didn’t get time to talk with her today, but she left me this,” Aaron pulled an unopened card out from his suit jacket that said to Dad on the envelope.

“Give me the keys. Morgan, give me your car keys right now” Spencer didn’t wait to take them from his hand and running out to the car.

“Spencer, come on man, what’s going on?!”

JJ’s face looked deathly pale, “She was saying goodbye. She was saying goodbye and we missed it”

Spencer was speeding down the street dialing Jamie’s phone, frustrated every time her voicemail chimed on instead of her actual voice.

“Come on, pick up, pick up,”

“Hi, you have reached the voicemail for Dr. Jamie Daniels I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message after the tone”

“Dammit!”

Spencer weaved in and out of traffic and double-parked the car outside of her apartment complex. He ran up the stairs and threw the door open. On the kitchen counter was a notepad with a short note scribbled onto it. Spencer looked for Jamie finding her in her room laying on the bed with her wrists slashed open in long vertical cuts.

“No, No, no! Love, please!” Spencer wrapped each of his large hands around Jamie’s wrists and leaned his full weight on them.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, “Let me go, Spence…If you love me let me go”

“No! I am not going to let you die!” Spencer felt tears falling down his cheeks. He was panicking. If he let go of her wrists to call for help she would bleed out, but if he just stayed like this he was going to lose her anyway.

“What do I do …. Oh, God, Jamie… What do I do?!”

Jamie’s eyes started to flutter shut again. “I love you…”

Spencer shook his head clearing his mind of the horrible scene that played out in his mind and ran after Jamie. He took the stairs two at a time and met her at the bottom floor of the office just as the elevator opened.

Panting Spencer smiled seeing Jamie and opened his arms for her to find her way into a big warm hug.

“Love, I love you okay? I love you so much that I would be devastated if anything happened to you and I know you have been hurting. I know you needed some space but please let me blow off dinner with everyone. I just want to spend tonight with you snuggled in my arm? Please”

Jamie’s eyes blinked away tears keeping her face buried in his chest. She nodded her head slowly.

“Thank you” she whimpered softly into her chest.

“For what love?”

“For coming after me. Maybe we can talk tonight… about what happened and about what I’ve been thinking?”

“I’ve got all night and the rest of our lives to listen to you talk about anything you want. I love you.”

Spencer kissed her forehead and lead her out to his car.

[benex78]

Forgive our Sins

5 years after the events of Immortality, Sara and Grissom are living back in Las Vegas when a ghost from their past reappears in their life forcing them to face some old decisions. GSR of course! Enjoy it! I hope you like it and please review it! (Sorry if there are mistakes but I'm not a native English speaker and a special thanks to my friend LuLu for reading it)

PART 1 They went through a lot together during their 16 years long relationship. She left him and the sin city, he went to Costa Rica for her, they got married, they got divorced, she went to San Diego and sailed with him. They hurt each other more than once, but their love never stopped. In the end, they gave up their carriers to stay together, got married again and now they were finally living happily together. Grissom and Sara are back in Vegas, living in a small house in the university district. While Sara works as a consultant for the crime lab, Gil is a part-time professor of entomology who tends to stick his nose in his wife’s forensic cases. 14 years have passed since the miniature killer events and Natalie Davis is still in prison. In her cell she keeps a collection of miniatures and she is now working on a new one. She interrupts her work on the miniature to write a letter. It’s a difficult one: she had tried to write this letter so many times without success, in fact there are a few ripped sheets of paper on the floor. This time is different, she manages to use the rights words and, once done, she sends the envelope to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. It’s addressed to Sara Sidle. What does she want from Sara? Does she want to make amends? Does she want to go after her again? PART 2 A car is parked outside Sara and Grissom's house and the driver is observing Sara. One day on her way to work, Sara notices him and tries to run away, but suddenly she’s caught in an incident. She is brought to the hospital where a frightened Grissom arrives. Fortunately, Sara is fine, she only has some bruises and she is soon allowed to leave the hospital to go home with her husband. Sara tells Grissom what happened and now they fear someone is chasing them. Thanks to the street CCTVs the police finds and arrests the stalker, however the man has nothing to do with the accident. Thus, he is released, but not after securing a conversation with Sara Sidle. He is a private detective and he needs to talk to Sara because his client, a woman named Kelly Ross, wants to meet her. Sara asks the detective the reason for this meeting and he responds that Mrs. Ross instructed him to reveal only in which part of Vegas she lives and, most importantly, that they have someone in common. Sara is caught off guard as she doesn’t know what to expect from this. However, she can’t help but feel curious. PART 3 On their day off Grissom drives Sara to Mrs. Ross, but he waits outside in the car. He is worried but he respects Sara’s decision to go in alone. When opening the door, Mrs. Ross welcomes Sara with a warm hug then she lets her in. Gil Grissom observes the whole scene speechless. When Sara comes back couple of hours later, she is in shock and immediately askes Grissom to take her home. He wants to know about the meeting, yet Sara begs him to give her some time to put her thoughts together. That evening in their kitchen Sara tells him a story she kept for herself for far too long. FLASHBACK:13 YEARS EARLIER The miniature killer had changed everything: the team had found about her relationship with Grissom, she had to join swing and above all she felt something inside her had broken and no one, not even Griss, could do anything to help her. She was so depressed that she decided to leave Vegas and the love of her life. She was in L.A. visiting her mom when she started to feel unwell. It took her a few days to even conceive the idea that she could be pregnant. She went to the nearest drugstore and paid for a test that she took directly in the customers toilet. She waited in there for almost an hour with the result in her hands: POSITIVE! How could it be? She didn’t want a child and Grissom neither. They talked about this at the beginning of their story and even more recently when he proposed. They (she and Griss) were the only family they wanted. How could she tell Grissom something like that? At least by phone she could avoid looking into his eyes and see his disappointment. She went back to her motel room and waited for the morning to come. She didn’t sleep all night, she kept looking at the clock on the wall. When she was sure Grissom could be home from work, she called him. He picked up almost immediately. She heard him giggling at the other side of the phone, but his joy faded at the news. Sara was so depressed; their relationship was stalling and surely, he wasn’t ready to be a father. Thus, they both agreed to end the pregnancy. Grissom offered to come to L.A. to be close to her, but Sara declined. She wanted to do it alone and he didn’t complain. She had just booked an appointment at a private clinic, when her mother got sick, so she had to postpone the whole thing. When she finally got there 3 weeks later, it was too late to proceed with the abortion. She had no another choice but to contact the social services to find a family for her unborn child.  She never told Gilbert she carried their baby and that he was put up for adoption. To him, this was a dead story. Just 10 days before Warwick’s murder she delivered a healthy baby boy who she held only briefly in her arms before giving him away. When she came back to Vegas, Grissom was so devastated he didn’t even notice her body didn’t have the usual silhouette and she kept the secret for herself. Until now. Sara’s confession is very painful, she fears Gilbert’s reaction. She fears he will hate her and never forgive her for taking his son away. However, Grissom isn’t angry. He seems quite relieved instead. Grissom reaches his hand out across the table and places it on top of Sara’s, giving it a gentle squeeze: - I don’t begrudge you honey. In the end, you did what we had decided. At the time we didn’t want a kid and you didn’t keep it. Honestly, I’m quite happy it went this way. – Sara raises her head: - Really? – Grissom admits: - Yeah, because now, 13 years later, we are talking about someone we created, someone who has our genes and who probably is still alive. Even if he is somewhere, we don’t know where and who raised him – Sara reveals: - Gil, his name is Dylan, he is here in Vegas and Mrs. Ross is his adoptive mother – Grissom is astonished: - What? He’s in Vegas right now? Did you see him? – Sara shakes her head: - No, he was at school - Grissom: - How did Mrs. Ross find you? – Sara: - I can’t explain it, but since I had decided for an open adoption, she must have assumed a detective to find me. - Grissom: - But why now? – Sara: - Because she wants to give us a second chance – Grissom: - Sorry I don’t get it – Sara: - She is dying, she has terminal cancer and her husband has died of Covid last year. She fears that once she’s dead her boy will end up living in an institute until his 18th birthday. -   Grissom’s heart starts beating fast, he can’t bear it any more. Maybe it’s his age but he wants to be a father now. However, he knows everything it’s up to his Sara: - Can we…? What do you want to do? - Sara: - Honestly… I don’t know – Grissom: - Sara, we are his parents! – Sara’s answer is firm: - No, we lost that right a long time ago Gil! – Grissom corrects himself: - You are right, but we have to do something. Don’t you want to get to know him? To see who he looks like? – Sara:  - Of course I want to, but I am also terrified. I abandoned him. For all I know he could hate me. – Gil replies: - He could love you. -   Sara gives Grissom a sad smile. Grissom tries to lift her spirit: - He could be a geek like us - Sara announces: - Gil, he is a special boy, he is not like the other kids – Grissom asks: -What do you mean? – Sara: - Mrs. Ross told me Dylan can’t hear, he has a genetic disease that made him almost deaf 5 years ago. Grissom is hurt, he can’t find the words to express his feelings. Sara notices his reaction and she gently touches his leg. Sara: - Are you ok? – Grissom nods: - I just don’t know how to feel about this: happy because I have something in common with my son or sad that I passed this pain to him It's all my...  – Sara raises Gilbert’s chin, she cuts him off this time, shaking her head: "No, it's not. and it's not right to put the blame all on you. We both made stupid decisions in our relationship that lead us to where we are now." She takes a breath and speaks again more softly. "Now, I just want to put all of that behind us and start over..." Grissom clears his throat and asks in a more serious tone: - So... what do you think? –   Sara takes both his hands in her and smiled a little: - I think we are going to speak with Kelly Ross and arrange a meeting with Dylan. Ok? – Grissom nods satisfied. Sara: - Let’s see what happens but we have to keep our hopes grounded – Grissom: - Ok… Come here – and takes Sara in his arms: - I love you, no matter what! – Sara leans towards him. She looks him in his eyes and responds with a tender kiss on his lips whispering against them "I love you too”.

PART 4 Sara spends the week working and thinking, thinking and working. Tension and expectations building up every day, more and more. In her mind Sara has imagined their meeting with Dylan at least 300 times, she has repeated all the possible things she could say to him, but every time his reaction is bad and the meeting goes wrong. Even Grissom is anxious; nonetheless he tries to distract Sara: he invites her to see one of his lessons at the university, he proposes a trip on a boat over the lake Mead and he takes her out to dinner. The Italian restaurant they go to is one of their favorites. They eat a very good lasagna and they drink a little more than they usually do, just to relax. Once at home, they go to bed. They face each other but, thinking of the day ahead, they can’t sleep. Grissom: - It’s gonna be fine – Sara: - You can’t know that – Gil caresses her hair: - No, but we have to stay positive – Sara takes Gil’s hand and brings it to her cheek: - I don’t know what to tell him – Gil’s finger brushes her lips: - The truth! If he asks, we’ll tell him the truth - Sara: - But? – Grissom: - Honey, if we want his trust, we have to be honest. We can’t lie. - Sara: - I am scared! -   Grissom: - Me too – and he slowly kisses her. She returns the kiss as they are taken by the passion of their bodies, entangled in one. Their minds are lost in the rhythm of that primordial act of desire, they know so well. They are just flesh and skin, sweat and moans. PART 5 It’s afternoon and they are sitting in a park near Dylan’s school. The sight of the boy approaching them with his mother takes their breath away. Kelly greets them from afar and points them to her son. They stand up and walk in their direction. Sara and Grissom stop when they are in front of Dylan and Kelly.  4 souls, 4 people meant to be a family finally together.  Dylan is a mini version of Grissom. He is not so tall but he’s slim. He has short curly brown hair. His eyes are blue and curios. Behind his left ear he has a hearing aid. Kelly addresses them to Dylan; she gestures in sign language and tells him: - They are the friends I was talking to you about. – Grissom takes courage and speaks first, gesturing his words: - Hi Dylan, my name is Gilbert and she is my wife Sara. We are happy to meet you. Your mother told us a lot about you. – Sara: - Hi, sorry but my sign language is a little rusty. I will try to improve. – Dylan: - Don’t worry, I can hear you (he indicates the implant to Sara). Moreover, I’ve learned to read lips. You, (he addresses to Grissom) on the other hand are very good. – Grissom: - Thanks. My mum was deaf, she taught me – Dylan nods pondering the answer. Sara tries to break the silence: - How was your day? Do you like school? – Kelly intervenes: - He is the best of his class – Dylan gives her a little buff on her right arm: - Mum please! – Kelly smiles: - He is shy, he doesn't like to brag – Grissom and Sara, grinning, exchange a look of complicity mixed with pride: - We can imagine – Dylan fixes them and he asks abruptly: - Why don’t you tell me who you really are? – Grissom and Sara almost choke: - What? – Kelly scolds him: - Dylan?! – Dylan continues: - You are my real parents, aren’t you? Sara feels responsible and wants to give him an answer: - You are right, I’m your birth mother and he is your father. – Dylan insists: - Why are you here? – Kelly: - I asked them to come – Dylan turns to his mother in shock but Kelly goes on: - I have to know that you would be safe, cared for and loved when I will be gone – Dylan: - How could you think that I would stay with someone who abandoned me? – Kelly interrupts them: - You three need to talk, you need to know each other. Dylan please, you have to listen to them – Dylan: - I don’t want to – and he runs away. Kelly touches Sara’s shoulder, she feels her pain and apologizes for Dylan’s reaction: - Give him some time.  He is a good boy… he’s very smart – Grissom sighs: - I see – Sara is ashamed: - He is right, I made a mistake. – Kelly tries to soothe her by saying: - We all make mistakes, Sara – Sara: - But he is the one who’s paying the consequences of that mistake – Grissom: - We had our reasons, dear– Sara locks her eyes on Gil: - and why does it all seem so wrong now? – Kelly: - Let me talk to him – Sara replies: - No, I want to try - Sara goes to look for Dylan; Grissom follows her but she turns and stops him: - Give me 5 minutes – Gil nods; she approaches the boy. He is sitting on a swing. Sara asks him permission with a soft voice: - Can I? – Dylan shrugs his shoulders and Sara sits in the swing next to him. The boy leaps down and faces her. Sara: - I’m so sorry for everything, Dylan. I’m sorry for your mum, for your dad, for your earing problems, and above all I'm sorry for what I did to you. – Dylan: - Why did you leave me? – Sara tries her best to formulate an answer: - It’s complicated.... I wasn’t feeling very well. Something bad had happened to me. – Dylan interrupts her: - My father? Did he hurt you? – Sara: - No, absolutely not. He has always been kind to me – she invites Grissom to join them and he moves in their direction. – I was, I still am a Crime Scene Investigator. Do you know what it is? – Dylan nods and Sara continues: - I was working on a case, and a serial killer kidnapped me and left me to die. I managed to escape, your father and other members of my team saved me – Dylan listens very carefully. – But after that, nothing was the same. I was broken and unhappy. I wasn’t myself anymore and I couldn’t stay there. I went away from your father, from this town, from my old life. I could not be a good mother for you, you deserved more. – Dylan looks at Sara and then Grissom and says: - You are married now – Sara declares: - We got back together 5 years ago. – Grissom kneels in front of Dylan: - We're not here to be your parents, you already have them – Dylan states: - My mum is great! – Grissom agrees: - It’s true. We just want to know you, Dylan! – Sara teases: - Can you give us a chance? – Dylan thinks and then asks Sara something that has always intrigued him: - Did you give me a name before.. you .. ? Sara affirms instantly: - Arthur, I named you Arthur –

LITTLE FLASHBACK OF 13 YEARS EARLIER Sara was holding her baby when a nurse entered the room to take him. The social assistant was waiting outside. The woman checked the papers she had filled in. On the birth certificate she had written her name, Gilbert’s, and a new one: ARTHUR. She gave her baby a kiss on the forehead and passed him to the nurse who left the room, closing the door to a crying Sara. Grissom turns towards Sara, surprised by her admission. Sara looks at him directly in his eyes: - It’s your father’s middle name! – Dylan chuckles, satisfied by the answer: - It’s my middle name too – Sara is grateful that the Ross in some way had kept the name she had chosen for him. Dylan remarks: - My father was a pastor, he always told me to forgive the others. I’m forgiving you! – They give him an appreciative smile before Grissom touches his head saying: - He’d be very proud – Dylan nods and walks over to an emotional Sara. He wipes a tear from her face, similarly to what Gilbert would have done. She whispers a thank you to him, then they return to the bench where Kelly was sitting, watching the whole scene.

PART 6 Grissom and Sara start seeing Dylan every day after school. Their bond gets deeper and deeper. Dylan looks more at ease with them. He loves spending time with Gil, making experiments, going fishing or sailing. They find a new balance in their lives. Every once in a while, he even spends the night with them. The guest bedroom has become his room now. Kelly’s cancer on the other hand gets worse and she ends in hospital. It’s a Wednesday morning when Sara picks up Dylan from school and brings him to the hospital to give his mother one last hug. Kelly Ross dies at 2.00 PM of that same day and Dylan cries in the arms of Gilbert.  At the funeral he stands between Sara and Grissom. He is brave but silent. Over the last year, he has lost both of his parents and found two new ones. It’s strange how life takes an unexpected turn sometimes and turns up the way it should have from the beginning.  In fact, before her death, Kelly had arranged things so that Sara and Gil could have full custody of the boy and become a family.

PART 7 Sara is in a hurry; she greets her boss and some other members of the team as she prepares to leave the office. The receptionist at the desk calls her back and gives her some correspondence. She doesn’t have time to read it, she will do it later with calm. All she wants to do now is to go home to her boys and to enjoy the evening with them. After dinner Dylan does his homework in the living room, Gil prepares his lesson and Sara tidies the kitchen up. She suddenly remembers the letters in her purse, so she takes a break to read them. An envelope without a sender attracts her attention. She rips the envelope and her jaw drops.

Dear Sara Sidle, I’m Natalie Davis, you probably remember me as the miniature killer. I’ve been thinking of you very often lately. I know, I don’t have the right to write to you after all this time, but my journey here in prison made me reflect on my actions and on what I have done to you and to the other victims. I’m so sorry Mrs Sidle, I can’t change the past and my apologies can’t relieve your pain or what you’ve lost. I was angry and I seeked vengeance for no real reason except because I couldn’t accept the daemons from my past. I should have known that that wasn’t the answer but I was too lost. I hold Mr Grissom responsible for the death of Arnie Dell and I tried to take you away from him because of his love for you. However, and now I know this, it was not his fault and you were a collateral damage in my inner war. I don’t deserve your forgiveness; I’m not searching for redemption. I’m just happy that you are alive. I also hope life has been kind to you and that Mr Grissom is still by your side.                                                                                                      Sincerely, Natalie Davis                    

Sara confronts Grissom about the letter and what to do next. They are concerned, still they decide to go to the county jail to see Natalie in person. As CSI they get a special permit to meet her in the interrogation room. The door opens and a guard escorts Natalie Davis inside. She is handcuffed and she’s wearing an orange suit. For the first time in 14 years she, Sara and Gil are in the same room. The guard moves to stand in a corner and Natalie sits at the table. Natalie is surprised by this visit: - I didn’t expect you to come. - Sara: - I didn’t expect your letter either. - They contemplate in silence for some time. Natalie clears her throat: - Anyway, thank you. Your presence here is very important to me – Sara replies: - I’m here because I wanted to look you in the eyes, to make sure your words were true and your regret sincere. Natalie: - Mrs. Sidle, I don’t know what to do to prove it to you - Sara: - You wrote you don’t deserve forgiveness… – Natalie: - No, I don’t. I’m a sinner and I need to be punished for my sins! – Sara: - Hmmm. It was not easy to understand it but now, now I’ve got it. We have different backgrounds, different stories but we have one thing in common – Natalie looks confused. Sara continues: - We are survivors, Natalie! We are women with physical and psychological scars. I could have surrendered to the difficulties that life put in front of me, as you did, but I decided to move on and I’m still doing it – Sara grabs Gilbert’s hand and squeezes it. They exchange a tender look. They both smile before Sara shakes her head and goes on: – Therefore, I forgive you! – Natalie is incredulous: - Why are you so good to me after all I’ve done? - Sara: - I’m not good, I just think this place and your sense of guilt are enough for me. We cannot live in resentment forever, and you know what? I’ve learned such an important lesson from a very mature 13 years old boy who has been through hell in such a short time. Goodbye Natalie. - Sara and Gil stand up and leave the room, Natalie and her nightmares behind. Dylan will be home soon with some of his friends. Tonight, they will go to the Luna park, they will ride the rollercoaster and then eat pizza. Their future is definitely bright.

THE END

[stayforya]

[6:02pm]

your thoughts are quite blurred, but the kiss – which is the part you really would like to forget – is very vivid. it was a friday night and you were exhausted because of work. during the last weeks, you were working like crazy because a co-worker resigned and his job was split between you and a friend. to be honest, after all the stress, all you wanted was to go home and rest during the whole weekend watching rom-coms. however, your friends invited you to a party that night and since you were also craving for some fun, you didn’t decline.

the party was in a fancy restaurant that you had never been to before, even though your friends had already invited you several times. the night was supposed to be like any other, after all you just wanted to have fun and forget about work. but, of course, nothing happens as it should when all you need is peace of mind. it is as if life has a film production behind the scenes that writes the script and needs a climax at times. so, the following events were kinda messy.

it had been months since you had seen your ex. the breakup was not the easiest, you cut off all contact and moved on. you were sure that if he saw you anywhere, he would come and talk to know how have you been. but honestly? you didn't want to say a word, it was weird to talk after the fiasco that was the breakup.

that’s why when you saw him across the restaurant, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide until the end. you also knew that if your friends saw that he was there, they would start commenting and he would see, because you were not so far from his sight. your thoughts started to come too fast, you were barely listening to the ambient noise because your own head was too loud. then a voice cut your thoughts and the person touched your shoulder.

“hey, can I take this seat?”, a guy you didn’t know said. he was all dressed up in suit and tie, probably having a very important meeting. he wanted to sit in the chair that you put your purse on.

“yeah, sorry”, you said, taking your purse. you were standing next to the suit-and-tie-guy and next to your friends, but you were barely talking. your attention was always on your ex so you could escape if he approached. 

“are you hiding?”, the suit-and-tie-guy asked.

“huh?”, you were startled by his voice and then you giggled weirdly, “no, I’m fine”.

“it looks like you’re hiding”, he took a sip of his drink while looking at the same direction as you.

“sorry, do we know each other?”, maybe you were not in your right mind, but you didn’t have the patience to strangers in that moment.

“I’m seokjin”

you frowned, “I’m y/n.”

“well, now we know each other. are you hiding?”

he wasn’t willing to give up.

“why does it matter?”, you laughed, “it’s not like I can hide for too long”

your friends were also meeting some people here and there so they didn’t exactly notice you were chatting with someone, but they were still there next to you. you wanted to tell them you needed to go to the bathroom and sneak out, but it would be too obvious. and it was a matter of minutes until your ex see your group of friends.

“is he your boss or something?”

“I wish, at least I wouldn’t hide. he’s my ex”

“ooh, that’s bad”, seokjin grimaced. “how long has it been?”

“months, actually. I haven’t seen him since the day we broke up”

you two watched your ex being the pleasant guy he was with everyone. he laughed, he hugged people and then he stood up. when you felt your eyes meeting his, that was, for sure, one of the most scary moments of your life. it happened in slow motion: he saw you, his face changed from surprised to a smile, he started walking in your direction. you had no idea how your expression was, but you definitely didn’t look as glad as him. 

he was still coming, waving at your friends too. they looked at you, waiting for confirmation that it was okay to talk to him. he walked between the tables, still greeting someone he knew along the way. you were no longer looking at him when seokjin said:

“you don’t look okay”

an idea came to your mind like a light at the end of the tunnel.

“I need you to play along”

“what?”, he whispered.

“I can’t believe this!”, your ex arrived, smiling brightly, “this must be my lucky day!”

he was annoying, honestly. you looked at him and wondered how did you date such an annoying guy. he was all over the place, always pretending to be nice to everyone, but you knew he didn’t like everyone because he spoke evil against some people to you before. 

it was certainly exhausting for him to be like that, because you remembered that at the end of the day he was exhausted and there was nothing left for you. only indifference.

“how have you guys been?”, he looked at all your friends but his eyes stopped on you. 

“we’re great!”, one of your friends saved the moment, “so unexpected to meet you here”

he smiled, “I know, right, I came for a meeting. oh, sorry, bro, are you with them?”, he asked seokjin with that pity face he always put on as if he doesn’t want to leave anyone out.

“yes”, you said right away. “he’s with me”

your friends eyes widened and your ex looked surprised, but he quickly smiled not to show the surprise.

“nice to meet you”, he held out his hand but seokjin didn't take it, just nodded back to him.

“same”, seokjin said. 

“so, I have been working a lot, that’s probably why you guys didn’t hear of me lately”, the ex kept talking. your friends weren’t paying much attention to him anymore and it was clearly time for him to leave, but since he’s inconvenient and thinks that everyone is always interested in what he has to say, he didn’t leave.

you looked at seokjin and he looked at you, both annoyed by that guy. you didn’t think too much and that was probably the problem, because being impulsive will only make you regret things later. you had just met seokjin and you knew nothing about him unless that he was very attractive and didn’t like your ex. 

you put your hand on his neck, coming closer. he wasn’t expecting, but he agreed to play along, right? so he did. he held your waist and you two kissed deeply. you never did that, you weren’t a big fan of public displays of affection (and you didn’t even have affection for that guy?!), but you just kissed him and it felt... good. it was supposed to make your ex leave you and your friends alone, but in the middle of the kiss, you forgot what was the first intention. 

seokjin knew how to play along and more than that, he knew how to kiss very well. his lips tasted like cherry even though he wasn’t eating or drinking anything with cherry before. the kiss was pretty soft and you didn’t want to let go of his touch not even for a million dollars. his hands on your waist became arms on your waist, which made you closer to him. your ex probably left already, your friends were definitely shocked, but you were in another universe at that moment. you touched his face before letting go, he looked around and whispered “I think we’re safe now”. 

you were absorbed. you didn’t answer him right away because your mind was still trying to deal with what was happening, but he was right – your ex left already, you two were safe and didn’t have to pretend anymore. his hands slowly let go of you and you didn’t have the courage to look at his face. your face was burning and you wished he didn’t notice. 

“thank you for playing along”, you smiled awkwardly.

“as long as you’re fine...”, he said and you felt that his eyes weren’t upon you anymore, so maybe it was time to run. 

“thank you again and I’m sorry for this”, you didn’t let him say anything because you just walked towards the bathroom and went to the exit. you sent messages to your friends when you were in a taxi going home, still thinking about what you did.

[three days later]

monday. after spending the whole weekend at home trying to forget about the kiss (and failing because all the movies you watched were rom-coms), you were ready to fill your mind with work again. you arrived earlier than ever, even your colleagues were surprised. 

since your boss was not there yet, you decided to tell your friend what happened the last friday. you two went to get coffee at the machine, but the joy was short lived. your boss arrived smiling, entering through the wide door with someone else beside him. a tall boy in suit and tie, and when you looked up you immediately recognized. you almost choked on the coffee you were drinking. of course, all eyes focused on you, including his – seokjin’s.

“good morning. this is our new hired member, seokjin”

seokjin greeted everyone while you were still recovering from the coffee choking.

“wow, he’s fine”, your friend whispered, “anyways, what did you have to tell me?”

“that’s the big problem. what is this guy doing here?”, you turned your back on him, trying to hide.

“do you know him? no way!”

“I wish I only knew him. I kissed him.”

“WHAT”, her voice came out louder than expected. 

you felt someone coming towards you and your friends eyes didn’t lie. it was him standing beside you.

“hi, I’m seokjin. they said you’re supposed to guide me today so I can understand where I should start from.”

you turned to him, “alright, seokjin, I’m y/n. welcome to the company. please, follow me”

when no one was around and you two got to his work space, he whispered:

“what are the odds, miss. I-have-a-crazy-ex-so-kiss-me-in-front-of-him?”, he was enjoying the unexpected meeting, his face couldn’t lie.

“let’s forget what happened, ok”, you muttered.

seokjin put his stuff on the table and looked at you.

“I wasn’t intending to forget, but if that’s what you want...”, he smirked. 

you stared at each other for seconds until someone called your name and you went back to your table. but his words – and the kiss – didn’t seem to leave your mind.

[peculiarscriptures51]

Prosecution [Police Officer JK X OC (AMBW)]

10 - ~Jurisdiction~

{From this point onward, when a chapter has this symbol: '~' there will be sexual content. (Also keep in mind, I've yet to write very many sex scenes or sex-based content, so I'd keep my expectations low)}

The past two months had gone by breezily. Well, at least they did for Joy and Jungkook. They spent their work weeks calling each other on their breaks, and at least twice a week Jungkook would stay over at Joy's place, mostly on Fridays or weekends.

Across the hall, Joy's neighbor Taehyung wasn't at all oblivious to how much the two were spending their time together. He and Hope were busy moving her in with him, so he'd been quite occupied with that as of lately. But he couldn't help but wonder just what was going on between Jungkook and Joy twice a week. It seemed like a whole lot more than a sleepover. Anyone with common sense would beg the question: what two adults of the opposite sex - that were undeniably attracted to one another - would visit so frequently without having sex? He and Hope knew for sure they were screwing each other silly all this time.

Though their ambitious, promiscuous theories were incorrect... that is until the first day of winter.

It was a late Friday night, Joy was home alone, with Marble snoozing in the laundry room. He was being naughty and not listening, so she figured a night in the laundry room would be enough. Her puppy wasn't as small as he used to be, having gotten big very quickly. He was almost his adult size, but he sure as hell was still a puppy on the inside.

Joy had just finished washing Jungkook's clothes - considering how he liked to stay so often, he eventually started leaving some things at her place. Nothing more than clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes, and a bottle of his favorite body wash, that was the extent of it. If Joy's sister Alex were to ever pay a surprise visit, she'd undoubtedly wonder whose shoes were by the door, as they were clearly for a man.

Jungkook and Joy have endured their occasional escapades together. Most of the time, it was Jungkook's treat. They held hands in the park once while walking Marble, and he took her to his favorite Korean restaurant, which was right outside the city. They'd taken long drives together, even if it was just to get something as simple as ice cream. Other times, they'd work out together at her gym. There was never a sour moment with him.

It was mid-November now, winter having started a little later that year. Joy's house was to stay toasty and warm, especially considering that Marble was sensitive to the cold. She was presently lying in bed, unable to sleep much. Joy had gotten used to sleeping in the same bed as Jungkook. She really liked it, actually. The feeling of their legs tangled together when they woke up. Hearing his heartbeat when she lies on his chest. The soothing rise and fall of his chest as he slumbered. She'd never been held so much before, and especially not in such a delightful way. Jungkook genuinely enjoys wrapping his arms around her, almost as if protecting her. It made her feel safe and secure.

Even now, Joy missed his touch. She could almost feel it, like the ghost of his arms was tangible. Her heart was fluttering like a butterfly, and her skin felt tingly. How was it so easy for her to become completely entranced by him? His smile, the look in his eyes, the sincere words that leave his lips. His touch. Desire. Passion.

Joy shudders, feeling a blissful chill in the room, her mind reverts to Jungkook's tantalizing physique. Everything he did tended to make her squirm. The way he reached his arms over his head to rub his structured muscles, how the bulk of his triceps were always flexing, and as he'd do so his shirt would lift a bit, revealing the milky white skin of his lower abdomen and unmistakable v-line. Or how his hand grips the wheel when he drives, and the focused look on his face as he does so - sometimes biting his lower lip and accentuating his mole directly beneath it. Even just sitting beside her casually, his muscular legs lazily parted and his back rested into his seat, his large hand resting comfortably on her knee. How often does a woman stumble upon such a sweet and caring man with a body like his? Almost never. Was she really so lucky?

Joy remembers the towel clinging to his waist from the night that she insisted he sleep over. His body dripping with water droplets, which would slowly cascade down every crevice she could see. She remembered the slightest bulge outlining a particular hidden part of him beneath his towel, though he'd used his large hands to hide it. His body was beautifully engineered, looking as though the gods of beauty themselves personally sculpted every mark and contoured muscle Jungkook had. He wasn't overwhelmingly robust - neither in physique nor in character, though through their earnest bond he'd become increasingly more protective over her. Joy wanted so badly to explore every detail about him; be it through a deeper mental connection, an exploration of his emotions - and, most notably, his physical attributes.

She had fallen for him. Deeply.

As if an angel had heard her wishes, there was a familiar knock at the door. She became flustered, realizing that she was hardly dressed. Frantically, she scrambled and grabbed her silk robe, nearly tripping over a sleeping Marble in the living room on her way to the entrance hall. He must've found a way out of the laundry room, though she was too distracted to handle it for the moment. She makes sure her body is covered, holding her robe closed as she peeks through the peephole despite knowing exactly who it was. Her grin spreads when she sees those large eyes.

Hurriedly, she opens the door, "Jungkook!" She whispered eagerly. It had been almost a week straight since she'd seen him, after all. And their phone calls were short. Perhaps she had adapted so much to their almost routine visits, she couldn't seem to clear her mind of him.

He smiles fondly, taking his hat off and ruffling his messy hair. "Hey, Joy. I'm really sorry, there was a long investigation going on and..." he fumbled with his hat.

Joy steps aside, locking the door behind him. "Are you staying over?" She asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. He was looking down at her, and Joy felt heat washing through her face. She folds her arms over her bust to cover her cleavage - which refused to hide despite how much she tugged her robe to conceal it. All on its own, her body seemed to perk up more at the sight of him.

He smirks tenderly, pulling his bomber jacket off to hang on the coat rack. "D'you want me to?"

She looks at her toes, realizing just how short her robe is. She hardly had anything on under it, just a pair of lace panties. She grips the hem of her robe with both hands, forgetting about her bust already. "O-Only if you want to." Lord, his presence alone was so distracting, it was like a cloud of lust surrounded him, fogging up her mind and better judgement.

"I will, then," he chortled, studying her body language. She looked a bit flustered and anxious. He figured that perhaps it was because she was embarrassed about her robe. Try as she will, Jungkook could still see her cleavage. She was a well-endowed woman, he'd always known this (really, you'd have to be blind to miss how pronounced her bust was), but this was the first time he'd seen her with something less than a sports bra.

Joy felt incredibly tingly, she'd never lusted for a specific person before. She felt stripped down, bare, all the barriers she'd built around herself came crumbling down because of him. Just looking at him, she felt naked; ripe and fresh for him, terrified but most of all liberated. Perhaps she was no longer shackled by fear... how was it plausible to feel so burdened by her stupefying thoughts and weightless at once?

Her heart was hammering her chest and he was just standing there. He looked so handsome in his uniform: his black cargo pants - which compliment his large thighs by clinging to them in the most appealing way. Combined with a fitted black shirt hugging his broad chest and lean torso, and of course his clean leather boots. The belt around his thin waist lacing his outfit together perfectly.

She felt herself shudder a bit, Jungkook closing their distance some with his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?" She couldn't help backing into the wall, Jungkook standing just inches away. He leans closer, planting his hands firmly on the wall, caging her between his strong arms and locking her in with a set gaze in his onyx eyes.

God, she could hardly catch her breath. He was too alluring. Every fucking thing about him. His lilted voice, his prepossessing looks, his charming attitude - even his stupid obsidian hair was perfect. In the darkness of her home it just barely caught the dim moonlight, streaks of blue glistening in his hair. His milky white skin was captivating under the concealed moonlight.

She shouldn't want what she's thinking, but her body was flowering, blooming and secreting waves of desire and lust. Should she endure what's only natural? It feels inevitable, like there was no way to escape it.

"Hey," he cooed with his soft baritone voice, gently lifting her chin with his fingers, his eyes both sincere. "Talk to me, sweetheart." Fuck, he used the nickname, she craves for him to call her that. He said it like it tasted good on his lush, pink lips. The way it rolls off his tongue and melted into her ears was warm and comforting.

Joy quivers, bewitched and trying to catch her breath, which she realizes she'd been holding. With both hands, she tugs the hem of her short silk robe, thoroughly embarrassed for being so heated. She shouldn't be, it wasn't right....

Jungkook holds her eyes with his, she watches them land on her lips and trail back to her eyes. His bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, the lush pink flesh paling as he examined her with hungry eyes.

Did he have a fucking clue what he was doing to her? She couldn't bear it any more. Her skin itched for his touch, she wanted to be engulfed in his arms and secure.

She wants to make love.

Joy huffs, "Jungkook, please..." she whispers. His muscles noticeably tense beneath his shirt, Joy feels moisture between her legs. She quivers quietly.

His voice is gentle, melting her heart and reverberating in her head, "What can I do?"

"Make love to me." It was instantaneous, almost automatic. Joy hardly realized the words had slipped off her tongue until his lips had started to gently, cautiously brush against hers, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. "Are you sure?"

Joy reflexively bobs her head, feeling his lips press to hers. She melts, loving the warmth and soft texture against her plump lips. The hard palpitations of her heart could be felt through her fingertips. He pulls away slightly, allowing her some room to breathe, "Am I your first?"

Joy nods, her hands resting on his broad chest as she kisses him again. He groans into it, their breaths catching as he dominates. Joy mewls under her breath, pulling those warm hands where she likes them, onto her waist.

Her arms stretch over his shoulders, gripping his neck and head. The pads of her fingers comb through his hair, raking his warm scalp, the stubble pushing against her finger tips as she slips her hand up to grip the longer parts of his hair.

He leans his chest into her, Joy whimpers, "Kookie..." the ties holding her robe together loosen. Joy's fingers trail back down from his shoulder, tracing the details of his body beneath his shirt. Her finger stops at his belt buckle. She feels him kissing her jaw and neck sweetly, her nimble fingers scrambling to unfasten his belt. There was a large bulge pushing against his pants.

Jungkook captures her lips again, his hand traveling to her thigh and caressing it, his hips bucking into her. Joy gasps at the jolt he pushed into her, gripping his shoulders securely with tremors in her fingers.

Joy didn't see his hidden manhood between them, but felt it pressed to her. His thumb hooks into her lace panties, slipping them down her ravishingly long chocolate legs. She feels his strong hands gently squeeze her bottom, he leans into her ear. "Jump." Was all he muttered, the husky tone he used foreign to her. Joy obediently follows his command. He holds her securely on his waist, pressing her back to the wall. His grip on the backs of her thighs strong yet careful, like she was a frail flower in need of a firm grasp. Joy frantically unfastened the buttons of his shirt, prying it open once all the buttons were free.

Jungkook bellows another groan, the vibrations in his chest deep and low, Joy huffs an exasperated breath, hugging his head to her naked breasts desperately, her robe having long since fallen open. They were perky and large, swollen with desire. Jungkook presses a kiss to one of them.

She felt so conflicted, she absolutely craved this - they both did. The tension between them was unmistakable and one would have to be insane not to relieve it. Does she deserve such bliss from such a loving, considerate, and patient man? Was she worthy enough to fulfill his needs? Was she equipped to receive so much support, despite his status? Should she allow herself to love Jungkook so much? Her breath hitches when he kisses her throat blissfully, murmuring sweet reassuring words between each delicate connection, his warm kisses traveling up her jaw, not missing an inch of her luscious chocolate skin. She felt the flames in her chest wash away, the embers still stung, but he soothed her burning concerns, keeping the anxieties at bay.

Jungkook hums into their next sultry kiss, Joy squeezing her legs around his thin waist, gripping his body for dear life. She hugs his neck and he pulls her off the wall, his large body rocking with each stride he took.

  Joy, still exasperated, makes an effort to catch her breath. She was panting out of control, every part of her body yearned for his immediate attention, especially her womanhood.

  He rubs her thigh as she squirms in his arms, cooing under his breath as he kicked her bedroom door closed behind them. Her room was delightfully dim, though more pale blue moonlight seeped through the sliver between her curtains.

  Joy's back meets her bed, and his silhouette looms over her. She can feel him between her thighs. He wastes no time sinking back down to taste her desire on her lips. Joy's lids close at such a mesmerizing sensation.

  His powerful hips thrust into hers, and she manages to pull away. Joy grips his shoulder tightly, finding the gleam of his shaded eyes in the muted room. His arms engulf her again and she's gently rested further back on her bed, head resting on her soft cushions.

  Their eyes adjust to the lusterless room easily, they find each other's details. Joy looks up at her lover with a starry gaze in her eyes, knelt between her legs. His shirt hanging open and revealing the definition of his abs, the contours of his v-line became quite apparent to her.

  He hums as he scans her body as well, her short robe being all she bore. Gorgeous chocolate skin dressing her curved waist and thin frame. He reaches over her into her bedside drawer, where he was sure he spotted boxes of contraceptives during one of his curious visits.

  Joy's lust seemed to fade slightly as her eyes trailed to his busy hands. Watching as he slowly tugged the zipper of his pants down, pulling the flaps apart. He started to tug his cargo pants down, Joy not missing how the detail of his v-line plunged further into the hidden depths of his clothes.

  She shifts anxiously, as this was an experience she'd thought about plenty of times. Though no amount of fantasy could prepare her for it. Jungkook noticed how she gripped the sheets in locked fists, her chest puffed up with anxiety.

  He pauses and sits back from where he knelt between her thighs, which were pressed to his waist, still, he extends his hand and rubs her flat tummy. He smoothed his hand over it soothingly, "Are you nervous?" He asked knowingly, having spotted it miles away.

  She huffs a sigh in defeat and bobs her head. She felt noticeably awkward and almost uncomfortable. It was the first time she was seeing a man between her legs. She'd never shared this closeness with anyone before, let alone a man she had so much interest in.

  His lips tug at the corners, "It's alright, sweetheart," the lilt in his voice was reassuring. He leans over her body, straightening an arm to support himself, with his other hand he trails it to her hip. "Do you trust me, Joy?"

  Certainty harbored in his eyes, Joy looked into them, past the arousal and lust that clouded their vision. There was a presence in his eyes she'd never seen before, it reminded her of security and warmth and... home.

  "Yes." The word was wispy when it left her mouth. That smile of his makes his face, he plants a delicate kiss on her forehead before pulling his shirt off. It was tossed somewhere in the room, Jungkook already getting back to kissing and pulling his pants off.

 His clothes wouldn't be acknowledged for the rest of that night; they would remain untouched for the duration of his stay.

Prev: 9 - Trial

Next: 11 - ~Conviction~

Masterlist

[angvs]

❛ ✶ ( LUKE HEMMINGS , CISMALE , HE/HIM )  —  did you see ANGUS DONNELLEY walking around campus earlier ? i hear a lot of people talking about the TWENTY TWO year old JUNIOR . from what i know , they are studying NEUROSCIENCE and are a part of DELTA PSI BETA . they come across as + EMPATHETIC but also - PERNICIOUS , which makes sense because on their instagram ( @gusdonny ) it says they are a TAURUS . when i see them , i think of dropping your coffee on the pavement , tattered crewnecks & denim , sitting in some hole in the wall restaurant at 2am , omw texts while still laying in bed , & chipped bitten nails . the most interesting thing i’ve heard about them though , is the fact that [ REDACTED ] , but don’t tell anyone i told you that .

wow  y’all  really  went  hard  in  your  intros  i  am  not  worThy !!!  hi  everyone !!  i’m  cj  and  i’m  from  the  true  north ,  strong  and  free ..  aka  canada  bby .  i’m  out  in  mountain time ,  which  is  why  i  am  SO  LATE ,  i  was  at  work  today  :~(   i’m  super  excited  to  write  with  you  guys  though  !!  i  brought  one  of  my  favourite  boys  ..  this  is  my  big  dummy  angus ,  but  pls  if  u  love  the  boy  at  all  call  him  gus .  

tw :  drug mention below

╰ ˚･ﾟ & some 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔

full name: angus  elijah  donnelley nicknames: gus age: twenty two date of birth: april 27th hometown: malibu ,  california preferred pronouns: he/him orientation: pansexual occupation: n/a , currently studying at beaumont  language(s) spoken: english ,  swedish ( very rusty ) pets: bulldog-terrier mix named cleo ( aka … luke hemmings irl puppy ,  i couldn’t help myself ok ) ,  but ... it’s  a  family  dog ,  so ... she’s  back  at  home  and  he  misses  her  EVERY  DAY .

PINTEREST BOARD !!

born  and  raised  in  malibu ,  angus  grew  up  with  strict ,  ambitious  parents . his  father  a  neurosurgeon ,  and  mother  an  architect .  it  was  very  early  on  that  they  instilled  their  high  expectations  for  the  boy ,  teaching  him  the  importance  of  discipline  and  responsibility .  their  intentions  were  good  of  course ,  as  every  parent  wants  to  raise  their  child  right ,  though  angus  wasn’t  truly  equipped .  in  actuality  the  couple  came  off  as  overbearing  and  their  high  expectations  deemed  unreachable  in  the  male’s  eyes .  as  he  grew  older ,  the  feeling  grew  stronger  that  he  would  never  quite  live  up  to  their  standards –  97%  on  his  mathematics  test ??  well ,  why  wasn’t  it  100% ??

family  time  was  scarce  in  the  donnelley  household .  with  both  parents  working  full  time  and  lots  of  time  spent  working  extra  hours ,  angus  became  independent  quickly .  his  mother  was  flying  to  dubai  for  work  quite  frequently ,  gone  weeks  at  a  time .  some  weeks  if  felt  like  his  father  LIVED  in  the  hospital .  but  he  was  saving  lives ,  and  how  could  angus  be  so  SELFISH  to  want  him  at  home .  it  meant  he  grew  extremely  close  to  his  two  younger  sisters ,  often  opting  to  spending  the  weekends  entertaining  them  rather  then  out  at  parties .  the  family  had  a  nanny  to  help ,  so  he  didn’t  HAVE  to ,  but  his  sisters  always  came  first  to  him  and  being  the  eldest  he  has  a  serious  case  of  protective  older  brother  syndrome .

after  graduating  high  school ,  he  somehow  managed  to  convince  his  parents  to  allow  him  to  head  abroad  for  the  year .  with  promises  of  coming  back  home  and  hunkering  down  into  his  pre med  degree .  the  couple  really  wanted  angus  to  head  straight  into  uni ,  but  with  tons  of  begging ,  they  sent  him  off ,  bank  account  full .  the  year  was  spent  travelling  and  honestly ,  just  having  FUN –  a  few  months  over  in  paris ,  london ,  italy ,  greece …  some  places  he’d  been  before  with  his  family ,  but  not  in  the  way  he  got  to  experience  them  now .  angus  continued  his  travels  to  japan ,  korea ,  new  zealand ,  australia …  never  staying  in  one  place  for  too  long .  but  the  fun  had  to  come  to  an  end .

as  promised ,  angus  attended  beaumont  upon  returning  back  to  the  states  studying neurosciences ,  getting  his  pre med  classes  under  his  belt .  he  is  a  legacy  kid --  his  father  having  been  apart  of  delta  psi  beta  when  he  attended  the  university .  becoming  a  doctor  has  never  quite  been  his  dream ,  so  much  as  it  was  his  parents .  while  the  male  continues  his  undergraduate  degree ,  he  wonders  if  he  should  change  his  path ,  though  that’s  not  a  conversation  he  can  have  with  his  parents .  angus  has  always  wanted  to  leave  an  impact on  others ,  in  what  way ,  well he’s  never  been  sure .  

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

a  big  dumb  softy !!

what  if  i  left  it  at  that …. !!  no  but ,  honestly …  he’s  definitely  chaotic  neutral .  he’s  a  big  empath ,  and  will  usually  feel  for  you  to  his  core .  

i  have  some  tiktoks  to  link ,  because  our  beautiful  admins  inspired  me !!!  and  if  you  do  anything ... please  watch  these :  ONE ,  TWO ,  THREE ,  FOUR ,  FIVE  ( tag  urself ,  angus  is  the  idiot  that  makes  the  entire  thing  go  down )

it  could  be  sometimes  annoying ,  because  angus  can’t  really  ‘ pick  sides ’ ,  this  boy  can  see  the  validity  in  all  sides  ( in  most  cases ) .  he’s  definitely  loyal  to  you ,  but  he’ll  be  that  friend  that  brings  up  the  defence  just  to  make  you  really  think .  because  of  this  he  can  be  either  really  good  with  advice …  or  really  bad ,  there’s  no  in  between .  he’ll  hit  you  with  a  million  different  solutions ,  confident  that  every  one  is  good  … “ it  just  depends  what  vibe  you  wanna  go  for ”

he …   gets  distracted  easily .  he  dabbles  in  a  bit  of  adderall ,  with  his  course load ...  it’s  just  kinda  how  he  copes .  definitely  known  to  pop  some  pills  during  night  study  sesh’s ,  essays  &  finals  week .

he  doesn’t  LIKE  to  party  a  ton ,  like …  he’s  just  not  into  big  crowds  really ?  but  if  he  tells  you  he  doesn’t  want  to  go  out ,  it’s  VERY  EASY  to  change  his  mind ,  because  he  has  Big  FOMO .  but  he’s  22  yanno  and  he’s  in  a  big  party  frat  so ,  catch  him  getting  drunk  and  probably  high  every  weekend ,  off  to  the  side  with  a  few  less  people ,  or  in  the  smoking  pit  at  the  clubs  fawning  over  ur  outfit  or  smth .  after  he’ll  drag  your  ass  to  some  hole  in  the  wall  restaurant  and  order  way  too  much  shit .

he’s  lowkey  v  self  destructive .  it’s  something  he  doesn’t  even  realize  he’s  doing  most  of  the  time ,  but  he’s  genuinely  surprised  when  a  friend  sticks  around .  the  ones  that  do  stick ,  have  definitely  had  to  deal  with  him  fucking  about  and  being  overdramatic  in  an  attempt  to  protect  himself .  idk  why  this  is  so  important  to  me ,  but  he  FOR  SURE  made  a  few  tik toks  w  that  whole …. “ if  i  was  a  worm …  would  you  still  love  me ? ”  AND  if  you  told  him  no ,  would  be  pissed  for  days .

very  affectionate !!!!  with !!!!  everyone !!!!

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

attended  a  semester  abroad  in  sweden .  is  very  rusty  now ,  but  can  hold  a  basic  conversation  in  swedish .

cleo ,  his  pup ,  is  his  absolute  pride  and  joy .  he  talks  about  her  as  if  she’s  his  daughter  ok .  misses  her  sm  while  away  at  school .

he’s  so  messy ,  but  will  defend  himself  by  saying  they  always  had  a  maid ,  and  then  realizes  how  DUMB  he  sounds .

sk8er  boi ~~  nah ,  but  he  actually  does  skateboard ,  and  is  trying  to  perfect  his  kickflip rn .

loves pizza pls

is  always  attending  live  shows ,  he  loves  the  music  scene  and  frequently  supports  locals

will  “ thrift ”  the  dumbest  shit  for  hundreds  of  dollars …

plays  guitar ,  but  doesn’t  think  he’s  very  good

╰ ˚･ﾟ & 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

i  made  up  a  page  HERE ,  but  PLS  i  LOVE  brainstorming ,  so  don’t  hesitate  to  come  to  me  for  some  brainstorming !!

[discotreque]

Picard 1.10: Et in Arcadia Ego, Part 2

I don't really do predictions or theories when I'm watching something. Partly because I prefer to go along for the ride while it's happening and wait to judge with the benefit of hindsight, but mainly because I'm very bad at it.

Anyway, let's discuss Episode 10 of Picard, in which a bunch of things happen that I would have sworn up and down were never going to happen, and a bunch of things I thought would for sure happen did not.

Spoilers for the season finale:

I think I feel about Picard S1 the same way I feel about Discovery so far: I like every single thing about it more than the writing. The casting is great, the actors are pretty much all superb, I'm horny as hell for the production design, the VFX are the best I've ever seen on television, I absolutely love Jeff Russo's music...

...and the scripts are, you know, fine. Mostly fine. Moments of excellence, no doubt, especially at the level of individual lines and scenes, but overall? New TV Trek has yet to pull off a complete season-story that really impressed me. (I have reasons for extremely high hopes re: Disco S3, but I will save them for another post.)

With all of that said: I didn't come here for the writing. I wanted to spend time with my old friend Jean-Luc Picard at the end of the 24th century, and I got it. The rest is gravy. Not, like, the awesome gravy my sister makes at Thanksgiving; decent B+ restaurant gravy. I'm still gonna dip my fries in it.

"To say you have no choice is a failure of imagination." The first great Picard line of the episode, but not the last.

Blah blah Romulan incest siblings blah blah blah. They couldn't have mentioned sooner that Narek was the family fuck-up or whatever? He would have been like 6% less boring.

Raffi and Rios constantly, lovingly dunking on each other is one of my favourite dynamics on this show.

Okay I was just joking last week about Saga's whole brain being in her eyeball but the fact that the damage to her eye fucked up her memories...

Why are they sitting outside the ship having a campfire? Isn't the ship basically fine? Why not hang out inside?

"The Thousand Days of Pain" is the name of my metal band.

Agnes using Saga's ripped-out eye to bypass the scanner had big Minority Report energy. Thank god she didn't have to chase it down a ramp while it rolled away from her.

"The way that children learn most things: by example."

RSVP Sutra, the only interestingly-written villain in this entire season. Tamlyn Tomita is super duper watchable as Commodore Oh/General Nedar (and looking fiiiine in that black uniform), but she has no personality or motivation beyond "grr, robots bad." Sutra lives in a society that's mostly twins, but her twin sister was fucking murdered. Obviously I don't agree with her actions, but I understood and cared about her motivations, which is more than I can say for any of the Romulans.

All those exterior shots of La Sirena wobbling through space with Picard at the helm were adorable.

We literally never see Narek again after the androids take him away. I hope they just threw him in a dumpster. Bye bitch.

Seven didn't do a ton of hand-to-hand combat on VOY, and she sure didn't fight like this. Jeri Ryan moves like she's heavy, like her bones are made of metal, like she's still full of dense Borg technology. She practically lumbers around, using her limbs like clubs; Peyton List bounces off her like she's hitting a solid steel wall. It's excellent choreography and so well executed by both women (and presumably their stunt doubles).

GET FUCKED, RIZZO. You were barely interesting enough to hate, but I did hate you.

"'The Picard Maneuver.' Wait, that's actually a thing, isn't it?" Ell oh ell.

Loved the way the Romulan ships' disruptors sizzled and crackled when they were powering up.

What was wrong with Planetary Sterilization Patterns 1 through 4?

That motherfucking fanfare when the Starfleet ships came in. Awwww yeah.

ACTING CAPTAIN WILL RIKER. Still kinda wish it had been Worf on the Entrepreneur, though, because I'm greedy: we already saw Riker!

I do have my problems with the writing, but I loved the way they resolved the three-way standoff between the Romulans, Starfleet, and the ch'khalagu: not with an epic space battle, but with diplomacy and self-sacrifice and trust in the essential goodness of each other. (Plus, I guess, the threat of an epic space battle.) It was so perfectly TNG in so many ways.

All the Riker stuff was so fan-servicey. Which I'm mostly fine with: I'm a fan, after all, and I like to be serviced from time to time. But it felt a little like one slice too many of chocolate cake.

I wish the tips of the tentacles had got cut off when the portal closed. That would have been cooler, right?

What can I say about watching Jean-Luc Picard die. He's been my captain for 30 years. I physically fucking felt it. And making an android copy of him, while awesome, did not really diminish the emotional impact.

On a lighter note, I need to know what Jeri and Santiago were actually drinking in that scene, because it straight-up looked like soap. Yuck.

I also really like the dynamic between Rios and Seven. They both act a little harder than they are, and I think they see through each other's acts, but there's enough mutual respect (and self-interest) there to let each other get away with it. And no romantic tension whatsoever. Delightful.

I want to hug all of them so much :(

The blank grey surface of everything in the simulation was very creepy.

Oh Data. Oh, Data. My heart was already aching and then...

Listen. Like a fucking idiot, I went and saw Nemesis on opening night. I don't even remember what I was expecting, but I do remember walking out of the theatre with my friend and agreeing never to speak of it again. Data died, but the movie was so shitty I could barely feel anything about it. This episode gave me the emotional closure I've been waiting for since December 13, 2002.

It's also, if you think about it, a pretty hilarious "fuck you" to Nemesis in general: "You guys did such a bad job of killing Data we had to bring him back to life just so we could kill him properly."

They've been slightly aging-up Patrick Stewart all season. I stopped noticing it after a while, so seeing him without it at the end was quite a shock.

"You... you haven't made me immortal?!" "Relax, man. Everyone was paying attention." Okay, Altan can stay.

Speaking of ol’ A.I., can't he just make another golem for himself? Was there something unique about the one they put Picard in?

I thought I recognized the voice of the woman singing "Blue Skies" on my first watch, but I couldn't place her. Turns out that was Isa Briones herself, which meant I cried even harder the second time through.

"And our little life is rounded with a sleep." Goodbye, Data.

Seven and Raffi???????

SEVEN AND RAFFI?????????????

And once again, Jeff Russo ends the season with a mash-up of the old theme and the new one. Give my man another Emmy! Give him two!

God damn. What a ride. Let me climb into my clown shoes for one last shitty prediction. I think next season is going to be what I wanted from this season: Picard and his motley crew of rogues bopping around the galaxy having roguish adventures. Fingers crossed!

And thanks for reading. Star Trek is always more fun with friends.

[petersshirts]

Broken Hearts Club | tom holland

summary: tom and you have a huge fight and you start to ask yourself if this is worth all the pain

words: 1637

warnings: swearing and a bit of angst!!

a/n: this one shot is for @uglypastels Movie Night Writing Challenge I chose the line „I wish I knew how to quit you“ from Brokeback Mountain! I had already written this blurb but my laptop decided to delete all of this, so here I am, trying again… I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! :) 

my masterlist

„I can’t believe this!“ you grumbled out and ran up the last few steps to the shared apartment from your boyfriend, Tom and you. You tried to get the key in the keyhole when there were steps behind you, announcing the arrival from your boyfriend.

„Oh come on Y/N, it was nothing!!“ Toms’ voice was harsh and angry, just like you. You just rolled your eyes and finally opened the door to flee from the pressure that was filling the room. You slipped out of your jacket and shoes and walked into the living room with Tom right behind you.

„Could you at least listen to me?? I’m trying to make a point here and you’re just ignoring me!“ When he said those words, you immediately turned around to stand right in front of Tom. His face was red and he was breathing rapidly, a frown on his face.

„Okay I am listening! What the hell do you wanna tell me? That she just smiled at you and you weren’t even flirting?? I’m so sick of this Tom!!“ You spit the words in his face, trying to show him how hurt you were. Because what would you do when your boyfriend started to flirt with a random stranger on your date??

The night was perfectly planned - Tom had finally some free time from filming so he asked you on a date, just like the old times. The two of you had been together for around three years now and half a year ago, you finally moved into an apartment together. You saw each other a lot now but it was just a nice thing to get out and eat in a nice restaurant, just the two of us.

Until he started flirting with the waitress. She came over to get your order and she nearly drooled when she saw Tom. You just rolled your eyes, knowing that Tom didn’t care, until he started to smile at her and make jokes, just like he did when he talked to you.

You stayed calm for the whole night, not wanting to cause a scene in the restaurant but when you got home, you jus couldn’t let it go. You went out to spend time with Tom and not just watch him have his fun with a very very pretty girl. That you were jealous was probably an understatement.

Tom rolled his eyes and you huffed, hating how he was approaching this situation. You were always the bad one; making everything seem like it was oh so horrible. But in all honesty; all that you wanted was Tom for yourself. You were always so afraid that he would find somebody much better than you. Somebody who would always be by his side at his premieres and when he was feeling down.

But because you had a job that bonded you to your home, London, you were so afraid that Tom would let go of you one day. So all you had was your defence mechanism, trying so desperately to hang on to the love of your life.

You walked a few steps back, not leaving Tom out of your sight.

„You know, if you don’t wanna talk about this, fine. But don’t you come crawling into bed in the middle of the night cause this talk is definitely not over.“

„Oh come on, Y/N! There was nothing going on, I’m telling you! I was just being polite okay??“ Tom had raised his voice and the vein on his neck had popped, showing that he was getting really angry. But oh boy, you were just getting started.

„That’s not being polite!! You actually undressed her with your eyes right in front of me!! Like how low can you get??“ Tom groaned and ruffled his hair, You knew that he was getting annoyed but you just couldn’t let this go.

„Y/N, it’s always the same. You know that you’re the one for me, so would you just let it go??“

„No I’m not. And I have no idea how I will so please be my guest.“ You turned around and walked towards the bedroom cause you just couldn’t look into Toms’ eyes anymore.

„Oh but you’re completely innocent are you?? Whenever we’re out you make love eyes at every single damn guy you see, maybe you should get into their pants!“ Toms words boomed through the apartment and caused you to stop. Your breath had stopped and your thoughts were running wild, already searching for a comeback. You ran back into the kitchen to a flushed Tom.

„Just fuck off! Go to one of those girls, they would rather have you! They would just fall into your arms and you could do whatever the fuck you want with them!“ You didn’t mean those words but you wanted to hurt him as badly as he just did.

When the two of you fought, it was horrible. You just threw words at each other that you didn’t mean but you were just too hurt to admit that to the other.

Tom shook his head at your words and walked past you to the kitchen. You followed him with your arms crossed, like a lost puppy. Tom started rummaging in the kitchen and you heard him murmur:

„I wish I knew how to quit you.“

You gasped for air, not believing what he just said. Suddenly, tears started running down your cheeks when you realised what he meant. How he felt. You let out a sob, realising that this could be the end. Because of this stupid, stupid fight; just because the two of you were just too stubborn to talk about things and started screaming at each other instead.

Tom didn’t turn around when he heard your whine, but he had stopped looking for something. He started speaking up again,

„I wish I knew how we could not end up like this nearly ever week. I wish that there was a way to end this calmly but I’m too selfish.“ You looked up at his last words, feeling completely broken. So this was it. This was the end to a loving relationship you had always thought was the only one you would ever have. Because you knew that it was love. You loved Tom with all your heart and you couldn’t let him go. You just couldn’t.

Tom had turned around now, his cheeks stained from tears. But he wore a little smile on his face when he walked towards you and stroked your cheek. You just looked up to him, in his chocolate eyes you got lost in the first time you saw him.

You quietly whimpered, not knowing why he was smiling. Was he so happy that this was the end?

„Honey,“ Tom mumbled and slowly grabbed your chin so you had to continue looking into his eyes and not avert your gaze. You couldn’t answer, you only bit your lip and fought with your churning stomach.

„I love you, Y/N. Only you and I will not let you go. Not as long as you still want me here. Because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and no fight could get me away from you.“ You sobbed again at his words, not believing what he had just said.

Toms smile got even bigger and he pressed his forehead on yours, your gazes locked.

„You are the one, baby. And you will always be.“

Your heart beated so fast you bet that he could hear it. You just stared at Tom, not realising what he was saying. Saying that he wanted you, needed you.

„R-really? Cause I don’t want this to be over either. Like never.“ You mumbled shyly and Tom grinned at you and slowly put his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer.

„It’s you and me baby till the end of the line.“ And with that, he softly pressed his lips to yours, getting a quiet moan out of you. In one second, all the jealousy had vanished and you felt home again. Your arms automatically wandered to the back of his neck and Tom smiled at the kiss, softly biting your bottom lip. You giggled at his playfulness, knowing why the two of you were together in the end.

Because there was only happiness when it was just the two of you; nothing could separate you. You had gone through so many problems through your relationships and you came out just fine every single time. Cause it was true and rare love that you were experiencing.

„I love you so much Tom.“ you mumbled between kisses and he only smiled and locked your lips together again. His hands were roaming down your back and in the next moment he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up. You squealed at his move and laughed, loving this side of Tom.

While Tom carried you in the bedroom to show you how much he loved you, you knew that he was the One. And even when there were fights, you would never stop loving him. You would never give this up because it was always worth it. Tom was worth it.

Permanent Taglist & some mutuals:

@smexylemony // @ive-got-more-wit // @lou-la-lou // @loxbbg // @seanna313 // @underoos-shield // @damnhisfaceisliketheskyatnight // @supernatural-strangerthings-1980  // @ixchel-9275 // @thejourneyneverendsx // @sideeffectsofyou  // @peterpumpkinparker // @twilightparker // @h-osterfield // @holland-peters  // @curlytoms // @fratboievans

If you would like to tagged, please send me an ask/message!!

[sansanficrec]

Q&A  with ladytp

Grab a glass of wine and get to know @ladytp!

How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I actually went back to the folder of my first posted fanfic, and it was almost 6.5 years ago, September 2012… That was my first ever creative work I wrote as well, as I started quite late – being already adult, established professional and all that. So never too late to start, one doesn’t have to have grown up writing!

Did you write before that?

No I didn't - unless scientific publications are counted as 'creative' writing (well, to be honest, sometimes there was an element of creativity when trying to make one's data make sense, LOL!)

How long ago did you join Tumblr?

To be precise (as I like to be!) I joined March 1st 2013 – so almost six years ago… But it took me four months to make my first post (an awesome music video about ASOIAF and GoT), being initially a ‘lurker’ to observe and learn. I migrated there from Livejournal when things started to quiet down there – like a moth I was drawn to bright lights, moving images, and more of my fandom content!

What is the meaning behind your username?

My username is from the Livejournal times as well, as when I joined it, I didn’t grasp the significance of one’s url or username and just picked the first one that came to mind when filling in the details: “lady” and my initials. D’oh! Luckily I have been able to successfully have the same name in other platforms as well, which is great – it is easier than have many different names. I am also glad that it is not fandom specific, as my interests are many and varied…

What was your first fandom? First pairing?

Definitively ASOIAF – that was my introduction to the whole cultural phenomenon of ‘fandom’, devouring fics and joining communities (yeah, I am so far behind of everyone else – I used to have a life, LOL!). Sansan was my first ship, but I also had a brief period when I was very interested in Daenerys and Jorah (this was before I saw the show). Even though the show had a big negative impact on Sansan experience for me (not due to Rory, I hasten to add – but the storylines), it has still stayed my OTP in a sense that I feel most comfortable about writing them and their dynamic still fascinates me above anything else.

How/when did you first notice (or start to ship) Sansan?

My story is very typical; first reading their interactions after the Hand’s Tourney, then the scene of the Battle of the Blackwater – and I was hooked. Googling and finding fics, Livejournal communities and all the metas…no getting back from there! I mean; it is so blatantly obvious that I wonder who can read the books and NOT get the vibes??

Is there a SanSan fic you’re particularly proud of?  Chapter? Paragraph?  Plot?

Hmmm…’Which one of your children you love the best?’, in other words – always a difficult question! I guess I am still the proudest of “The Triangle”  It was one of my early fics, it was a long-fic, and it was about the subject I had been fascinated with for years and years; the complicated Arthurian relationship between 3 people who loved each other for different reasons (Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot in the original, Sandor, Sansa and Jaime in the fic). Chapter-wise I am very happy with the last chapter of the “Kiss of the Blade”, as hard as it may be for some due to the character death implied. It has melancholy but also beauty, I thought when I wrote it. Plot-wise I am excited and happy about my current WIP “This Time, We’ll Do Better”, as although it has some common trope elements, I think they have somewhat cool applications and it is nice to write something more plot-orientated for a change!

Any comments you’ve received that stick out, even now?

I have to admit that again, “The Triangle” inspired some absolutely wonderful comments, probably because of its unusual premise. Towards the end, and especially with people who had read it in one go long after it had been completed, there were some wonderful convos going back and forth. I especially enjoyed the ones where people either told that they had had some reservations starting it, but then ended up really enjoying the fic, or the ones where they might have had some queries and doubts and questions, leading to a mutually fruitful and eye-opening discussions on both sides. Those conversations really blew my mind!

Do you use a beta?

I have had the privilege of working with two wonderful betas, of which I am eternally grateful. The first one was wildskysheri / wildsky, whom I “met” via Livejournal, and who betaed for me for “The Triangle”, “A Chance Encounter” and “A Premediated Reunion”.  She taught me – a non-native English speaker/writer – so much about writing and what to pay attention to and what to look out for. I owe her so much! After our ways parted amicably as she moved on to other things, I was without beta for a long time, not really actively looking for one, but when my path crossed with the lovely @hardlyfatal, I have once again had the pleasure of getting my words scrutinised by someone knowledgeable, making them better on “This Time, We’ll Do Better”. I honestly can’t speak highly enough for a beta who can make any writer and fic so much better!

Are there tropes/styles/genres you struggle with?  Any that are almost too easy?

I do struggle a bit writing babies and children, and hence haven’t written much about them… I don’t generally care for modern AUs either and would struggle to write a full story in a modern times – although who knows, maybe in a right setting, replicating the high stakes situation of the canon, it could work. Haven’t tried so can’t say for sure! Very fluffy genre is also something I don’t feel particularly comfortable with, nor anything where the characters are very young. And porn without plot is neither a genre I relish. The most comfortable genres for me are the slow-burns, where mature people interact with each other in a mature way (whatever that means…). First realisations of feelings, hesitancy, and all that. I also do like plot-driven stories that have a start, middle and ending. I am all open for fake marriage, bed-sharing, ‘there was only one room at the inn’ kind of genres – any kind of ‘forced’ situations where the characters are obliged to spend time together!

When you start a fic, do you know where it will end?  Or do you figure it out along the way?

There have been fics along both scenarios – some were started at the spur of the moment, with only vague ideas of where and how far they would go (”The Prophecy” comes to mind, which I started as a random holiday scribbling – and repeatedly apologised and updated my chapter number as it grew and grew and grew…). And there were the ones where even at the end I couldn’t decide what the ending should be, so I wrote two (for example “Past Was Such A Long Time Ago“). But for most I would have some idea about the ending at the start, and for some I would gain it somewhere early along the way. So yeah, it varies!

Do you have any rituals/conditions for ‘getting in the mood’ to write?

I mostly write over the weekends when I have more time, after getting up and having breakfast, reading my emails and checking on Tumblr and doing all the routine stuff one does – and then I open my doc and start writing… With my internet radio blasting on the background on some jazz or lounge or classic channel. I find it hard to write during the weeks after getting back from work and being distracted by mundane home things and TV and such.

Have you ever had writer’s block?  Any tips for overcoming it?

I did have a period well over a year ago when I felt I had ‘lost my mojo’. It was largely to do with the way the Game of Thrones show had progressed and changed the characters so much that I couldn’t recognise them anymore, and my initial inspiration of writing about them consequently suffered. Especially as the show canon started to take over the original book canon so strongly in many platforms, including fics. The way I got over it was to distance myself from the show and partly, unfortunately, also from the fandom (so largely focused on show). I had a nice break, didn’t read many fics, focused on books and generally took a step back. Then I challenged myself to write a new type of story, a plot-focused ‘action & adventure’ story instead of romance focused only. That inspired me to write again, and I have been riding on that inspirational wave ever since with my latest long-fic WIP!

Aspirations of publishing one day?

No, not really. It is a tough world out there, especially as writing has become more reachable to many people who previously might not have even considered it (yay, fanfic and other forms of creative writing and platforms encouraging it!), and publishing world is awash with submissions and self-published stories alike. Although I don’t know for sure, I suspect that wanting to become published would take much more effort and determination and will than what I have for now, as for me this is a lovely hobby, nothing more.

What are your other hobbies?

My absolutely biggest hobbies are food and wine. I have loved cooking, eating and learning about food and wine for most of my life and it’s really important for me. Cooking meals ‘from the scratch’ from their base ingredient is what I love, as well as learning to master new techniques, new cuisines and difficult recipes. When I travel, food is one of the main drivers for that too, and holidays are largely built around restaurants, regions, cuisines and wineries. Holidaying in wine regions and wine tasting is the favourite kind of holiday! Yet I also love everyday cooking – the beauty of this as a hobby is that I get to do it every day and can challenge myself, be inspired by it and practice it all the time!

As for other hobbies…not really… I follow the transformative artform that is WWE, especially Dean Ambrose, and love visiting historical sites and reading about history, but that can hardly be called an active hobby… I also make some photo and video edits for fun, but lately my writing has taken much of the time I used to dedicate to that. Yet I feel that what I have is enough – I have no desires for an active life with lots of different hobbies and activities.

Any tips for writers looking to post their first (or second, or twentieth) fic?

I hope this doesn’t sound too harsh, but it would be really cool if even those who write only for ‘shits and giggles’ would do some basic formatting and language checks… Things like how to indicate dialogue, spacing between paragraphs and when to apply them, and of course, basic grammar. There are nowadays so many websites advising about those things, as well as free tools (for example Grammarly), that they are accessible to every person with access to sites posting their stuff – and a simple Google search is your best friend. I recommend this because ignoring those things may easily drown even the most amazing story in these times of fic over-abundance.

Other than that, write the stories you would like to read yourself, and the scenarios you would like to see in the canon. Study the writing style of the writers whose stories you admire and see if you could pick up a trick or two from them (but not plagiarizing, naturally). And if you can, get a beta – it is not absolutely necessary, but would give you a second opinion and advice from a trusted person. Oh, and give yourself a break between writing and final editing – ideally have a buffer of chapters in a draft phase before starting to post, so whenever you write something new, you can afford to let it rest for a while before getting back to it with fresh eyes. And have fun!

Anything you’d like to say to writers in general?

Don’t get hung up on statistics or comparisons. Think why you are writing – is it because everyone does it and you feel you should too, or because you truly enjoy it, or because of the stories themselves, or because you have an internal urge to do it, or it is part of your social networking activities… all are valid reasons, but once you define what they are for you, the easier it is to focus on it and the satisfaction it gives to you.

Anything you’d like to say to readers in general?

If you like a fic, don’t be shy about commenting, as it truly means so much to the writers… Even simplest comment is gratefully received. If you feel like wanting to pass on constructive criticism, first ensure the writer welcomes it, then formulate it in the politest possible way with positivism thrown in as well (and of course, make sure it is actually constructive). Marvel the choices and abundance of fic availability and acknowledge what a joy it is to live in this time and age when all that is possible. Enjoy!

Anything you’d like to say to the SanSan fandom in general?

Do not give up hope – Game of Thrones is over soon and we can get back to canon content, hopefully soon with The Winds of Winter. Whatever the further story of Sandor and Sansa is there, we know how important it has been already and nothing can take that away!

Read LadyTP’s SanSan here!

Read LadyTP’s full library here!

[j-k-notrowling]

Untitled

Hi there! Spoilers up front: this is a gratuitously long-winded “thank you,” not an Ask (also I’m 31 and don’t know how to Social Media so apologies if this is the wrong page/tab/link/widget).

--(oh actually it’s a blog post now because of course I can’t send an “Ask” this stupidly long see? wasn’t kidding about that Social Media thing...)--

I started writing my first book in the Fall of 2016. Before that I’d only written songs. One day I got an idea which didn’t fit within the usual rhymes or rhythms. I tried and tried, but kept on hitting a wall. In addition, I was fed up with the whole “business” of music—the fragile egos, the politics of being in a band, all that. One morning I sat down at my HP desktop computer (again...31) and opened up a blank Word document. I stared at it with murderous intent for a long time, but nothing happened. So I grabbed the nearest book off the shelf (Crash by J.G. Ballard), opened it, and began to type out the first paragraph, copying the sentences line by line. I wanted to see what it felt like — my clumsy fingers pecking at the keyboard, observing how the words fell into place with a musical cadence and tempo almost prophetic, as though the ink were destined to dry in this exact form upon the page, the machinery of its tumultuous birth and impeccable design skillfully concealed. I paused and looked out the window. There was a squirrel on the deck, I remember. And then I saw it. Not outside but inside my own head, behind my eyelids. The song, the one I’d been struggling to write, I saw that it could be a story. I saw it had a clear beginning, middle, and end. I saw a world of characters opening doors to other worlds, other stories, other characters. This was life-changing shit. Suddenly I was a little boy at my first baseball game, drinking my first ice-cold Coke, surrounded by old men chain-smoking Marlboro Reds and muttering dirty words I’d never heard before about the [EXPLETIVES DELETED] on the opposing team. I’d discovered a fire fueled by the psychic anarchy of its own discovery, a Moebius-strip of dramatic invention, a repository for all the pop-cultural turds floating around inside the cracked porcelain toilet bowl of my skull. I wrote prose every night after work. I never thought about what I was doing. I never once stopped to check word counts or page counts. I never thought about sticking to an outline, making sure my story adhered to a specific plot structure, none of that. I wrote like a man in love. Delirious, overheated teenage love. Wear-my-ill-fitting-letterman’s-jacket love (is this also A Thing™️ in Canada?). Stupid stupid stupid love, naive and hormonal and precious and retrospectively mortifying. I’d turn off the world, turn on the music, sit back and watch the words sashay straight into my lap. It took 2-3 months before the ruthless scourge known as Self Doubt farted in my private elevator. Am I doing this right? How many words are in a book, anyway? How many pages? How long is this going to take? Is this an effective way to impress women and/or get laid? Am I writing a novel or a novella? The fuck is “flash fiction”? Are you allowed to write actual books in Microsoft Word? Does it matter that my free trial version of Microsoft Word expires in 30 days? They’re bluffing, right? And so on. I compared my own writing with that of authors I admired; subsequently, I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. I watched 40+ hours of “Kitchen Nightmares” reruns (it’s. the. same. fucking. formula. every. single. episode.) and nursed my shame with bowl after bowl of strawberry ice cream. To think — I’d TOLD people about this fool’s errand, and sooner or later I’d have to show them precisely how awful a writer I was... I turned to the Internet for advice. At first, it seemed like a godsend. There was such a litany of knowledge, so many pro-tips and life hacks and proven formulas for success. This was how I stumbled across your channel. I found other channels which offered more straightforward “DO IT LIKE THIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT” instructions, but I still enjoyed yours the most. I lol-ed at your jokes. I remember a few videos where you spoke highly about All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, which remains among the most achingly beautiful books I’ve ever read. Also you’re Canadian, and you guys just generally Human better than we (Americans) Human. ...and here my troubles began. See, the more I tried to adhere to word count goals, the more I tried to properly organize the scenes on my Scrivener™️ virtual cork board, the less I enjoyed the actual process of writing. So I tried other things, based upon other writers’ suggestions: cut the adverbs, write in the morning, write at night, write during your lunch break, write an outline, stick to the outline, write x amount of pages per day, write x number of hours per day, spend x amount of hours drafting and x amount of hours editing, etc. But nothing I tried made me feel confident in my writing. I started actively hating it, to be honest. I dreaded the cursor and the infinite white void. Then I would watch more writing videos and feel guilty about my lack of ambition, my inability to accomplish simple tasks. It’s only a few thousand words, dude — just get in there and do it. Eventually I would. I’d grumble and feel miserable and stay locked in my little writing dungeon all night, ignoring my friends’ texts and phone calls, and the next day I’d hate everything I wrote, trash it, and start over. Then, when I had no more writing left to hate, I started hating myself. The words in my head turned malignant, putrefied into spongy, black tumors. I’d spend all day at work consumed by thoughts and ideas and goals! goals! goals! for my book, then I’d come home and stare at a blinking cursor and wonder why I was such a worthless failure. I couldn’t write the way these other writers did, no matter what I tried. But I still wanted to write. Needed to, in that yearning, terrible way I suspect you understand. I don’t know why The Internet subconsciously invites us to flay ourselves before total strangers, but it does. So I will. Shit got Dark™️, Shaelin. I gained 50 pounds, started living like a hoarder, stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped leaving the house altogether. I kept the curtains closed so my neighbors wouldn’t see the piles of empty take-out boxes stacked up on the kitchen table. I traded the pleasures and contradictions and beguiling enigmas of women for the 24-hour neon distraction of cheap porno. My cat Maggie, basically the only friend I had during this time, got cancer. I watched her suffer and waste away because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her to sleep and coming home alone to an empty, filthy house. Eventually she died and I hated myself even more for not being able to save her. I wore the same pair of pants for six months. I’d go to work and sit at my desk all day and do absolutely nothing (I was the accounting manager at a small company, technically my own “boss,” so I got away with this for a shocking, frankly heroic amount of time). Then I simply stopped going to work. And I kept torturing myself with those stupid goals and word counts, never happy with the end result, resigned to feel like a failure every day. I remember watching your “Spill the Tea” video back when it was initially posted. Watching it now is eerie, because you describe exactly what I was going through, what I was feeling. Like, to the “T” (see what I did there? #WordPlay #LitPuns101). I’d never experienced anxiety/depression before, so I didn’t really understand what was happening to me. Not that it mattered, because by that point the damage was done. I couldn’t recognize and isolate the real problem. I’d given up. Even though you said a lot of things in that video I desperately, desperately needed to hear, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen to you, because you were one of Them™️. Your eyes were bright and your voice sounded friendly and encouraging, but your name wasn’t McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. You were just a kid. What could you possibly know that I didn’t? In January of this year I called a local psychiatric hospital and told them I was planning to kill myself. I never harbored any true intentions of doing that, but I figured they’d offer me a nice three-week vacation in a padded cell. Considering the circumstances, it honestly seemed like a relief. I ended up quitting my job, selling my house, and moving back in with my parents 300 miles away. I started seeing a therapist once a week (still do, for the record). So far I’ve lost 30 pounds of the 50 pound surplus I acquired. I kept watching your videos, even though I was no longer in the market for writing advice (#JustHereForTheSnark). You kept me lol-ing through some bad days and weeks and months. I’d listen to you talk about problems with the writing community and nod my head like an old woman in church (#ShaelinSermons™️ #SheTeachesANDShePreaches), but I still hadn’t made the connection with my own issues. I swore off writing completely, went back to playing music. Cover songs in coffee shops and family restaurants. It was fun for awhile. I genuinely felt happier. But my story was still an old pebble poking around in my shoe...calling out, issuing playground taunts, drawing hairy cartoon dicks on my forehead while I slept. About a month ago I stared down another blank page, my first since experiencing that fun-sized nervous breakdown earlier this year. I closed my eyes and heard your voice in my head. “You can do whatever you want.” I had no goals, no arbitrary quotas to meet. I wrote a few lines, stopped, fixed a couple things I wasn’t satisfied with, and then went on with my day. I thought about what I’d written, sure, but I didn’t worry or spend the whole day stressing out. The next morning I read over what I’d done, and I didn’t hate it. I thought it was actually pretty good, funny and off-kilter and a little/lotta fucked up. So I sat down and wrote some more. Took some things out, re-worded stuff, dressed up the bones in silver and pearls. Addition and subtraction. Before I knew it, I’d finished a whole page. Then another. And then the hair on the back of my neck stood up, because I remembered: This is how it felt at the beginning. Back when I was young and love-struck and writing only to catch those moments of pure levitation, that devilish tickle, that rush of blood propelled by my own wild heart. It’s been a rough road, but I finally found what I’d lost. I figured out how to write again and enjoy it. And ultimately, the best writing advice I received didn’t come from McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. It came from a young woman in another country with a camera and a nose ring and a big tapestry and bigger dreams which run parallel to my own. So thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your busy life and braving the Steaming Pile™️ that is The Internet to offer words of empathy and encouragement to complete strangers. Thank you for the wisdom you share. Thank you for being who you are. Know that tonight the stars shine brighter as a result. They do for me, at least. (Also I’m sincerely sorry about the absurd length of this “Ask” wherein no actual questions were posed and nothing substantial was communicated beyond a simple yet torturously delayed “thank you” kthxbye #longlivethenewtapestry 

—Justin)

[saras-almanac]

stay (robert/aaron - emmerdale)

 After the verdict’s read, Robert and Aaron have a quiet night in. Coda to episode on 15 April 2016. 

Written for Day Six of Robert Week - “ Write a romantic scene/story between your favourite Robert ship.” Unfortunately, I write romance with a healthy dose of plot because I find plot romantic as fuck. So here we are. I can’t believe we’re almost done with Robert week! It’s been so fun writing for and about this disaster for the past week! I’ll miss it when it’s done!  <my other robert week fics>

It’s over, son. Chas had said that at court earlier today when they’d all heard the guilty verdict read out. Robert, like everyone else, had believed her when she’d said that to Aaron. But standing outside the pub now with Aaron tucked under his arm, Robert knows it’s not as simple as that.

Aaron was hurting, still, and there wasn’t anything Robert could do about it. Still. He was forced to continue to stand aside and watch the person he loved suffer through memories and feelings because, like Aaron said, all that doesn’t just go away. Robert felt like an idiot for not recognizing that it takes more than a court case to get over something as serious as this.

It wasn’t that Robert expected Aaron to bounce back immediately; he wasn’t stupid. But he had hoped that at least some of the weight Aaron had been carrying with him for the past few months—and years—would have lightened a bit. Instead, it seemed like more weight’s been added because Aaron’s worried that he’s not as happy as everyone else and that he’s got to act as everyone else expects him to.

It wasn’t fair. Aaron should be able to deal with this however he wanted to without a party thrown for him, which he hated. Or his mum pestering him to change his name right now. It’s obvious that though they all mean well, they’re once again not doing what Aaron wants and needs.

“Hey,” Robert said softly, rubbing Aaron’s shoulder. “Why don’t you sack off the rest of the party? You sneak upstairs and I’ll give an excuse, eh?”

“But they’re expecting me back,” Aaron said.

“Yeah, but you don’t want to go back, do ya?” Robert asked.

“Not really.” Aaron sighed. “But I don’t wanna leave yet.”

“Oh,” Robert said. “Well we can head back in and you can leave whenever you want.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Aaron pointedly turned his head to tuck just slightly under Robert’s chin. This side hug probably would be easier if Aaron had taken his hands out his pockets and put one around Robert’s waist, but this was probably as public as Aaron would ever be with his affection anyways.

“Oh,” Robert said again. “I don’t mind staying out here a bit yet.”

Aaron nodded. “Or you could sack it off with me.”

“Yeah,” Robert agreed instantly. “If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want to be alone just yet,” Aaron said quietly. “And you’re the least annoying.”

“Cheers for that,” Robert said. But it was hard to be upset when Aaron huffed a laugh.

Aaron stood up and pulled away from Robert to head back inside. Robert followed him and even from the back room they could hear all the people sitting in the bar.

“Well… you staying?” Aaron asked, one foot on the steps waiting for Robert.

“Course,” Robert said. “You head up and I’ll go get us a couple more beers, yeah?”

“All right,” Aaron said.

Robert leaned over and kissed him, surprising both of them. They were still navigating this whole we’re-in-a-relationship deal. “Be up shortly.”

He could feel Aaron watching him as he walked back through the back room to find Vic in the kitchen.

“There you are!” Vic said. “How’s Aaron doing? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“He’s all right,” Robert said. “Considering everything. Hates this party though.”

“It’s not a party,” Vic said. “It’s just a bunch of people getting together to celebrate the guilty verdict. And show their support for Aaron.”

“Sounds like a party to me,” Robert said.

“Aaron hates it, doesn’t he?”

“He appreciates the support,” Robert said. “But he’s not one for being the center of attention. Especially not because of this.”

“He’s run off then?” Vic asked.

“No. He’s upstairs. I said I’d come and try to see if I could convince my sister to make us some food and bring it to the back for us when it���s done?” Robert asked.

“Rob, I’m a bit busy. I can’t just drop everything whenever you want food,” Vic complained.

“Pretty please,” Robert said. “And remember that it’s for Aaron?”

“Guilt me why don’t ya,” Vic said. “Two dinners coming up. Anything else?”

“Brining a couple beers with ya would be nice,” Robert said.

“Oi! I’m not your worker,” Vic complained.

Robert leaned over to kiss her cheek. “You’re the best Vic.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text ya when it’s done,” Vic said. “I don’t want to intrude on Aaron. Or walk into whatever it is you two might be doing.”

Robert just rolled his eyes and left the kitchen. He bypassed the entire pub and went into the kitchen to grab a couple beers that were still in there and get a glass of water for Aaron. He carefully juggled everything up the stairs and into Aaron’s room.

Aaron was perched on the edge of the bed, looking the most uncomfortable Robert’s ever seen him. He was still in his suit, just minus the tie and shoes.

“You all right?” Robert asked as he set everything down on the night table next to Aaron’s bed.

“Didn’t know if you were coming,” Aaron said, picking at his hands.

“Said I was, right?” Robert told him. “I stopped by the kitchen to see if Vic could make us some food.”

Aaron nodded and then settled back a little bit on the bed. Robert passed him a beer and then sat next to him. The air between them was… strangely charged. Not from sexual tension or lust. It was more like Aaron was regretting asking Robert to stay but also that he wanted Robert to stay. And Robert was worried that he’d maybe overstepped and that Aaron actually hadn’t wanted him to stay that long.

“It’s weird, innit?” Aaron asked.

“What?”

“This,” Aaron said gesturing between them. “Me asking you to stay tonight and everything.”

“I don’t think so,” Robert told him.

“We haven’t exactly done this before,” Aaron said.

“Maybe not like this,” Robert said. “But I’ve been in your room before.”

“Yeah but that was for…” Aaron trailed off, uncomfortable. It still amazed Robert that the man who’d literally been willing to shag Robert on the side of a lay-by and then in a garage later than night, was uncomfortable actually saying the word ‘sex’ to Robert’s face. Robert would never tell him, but he thought it was one of the most endearing things about Aaron.

“Right,” Robert said. “So you think it’s strange if I’m here and we’re not going to have sex?”

“Kinda,” Aaron said.

“Did you want to have sex?” Robert asked.

“Not really,” Aaron said. “But you might have thought that… When I asked you to stay you probably thought I meant… you know.”

“Aaron,” Robert interrupted his ramblings. “I wanted to stay to be with you. I wasn’t expecting anything tonight, but I will not turn down a cuddle. If you’re up for it.”

“It’s just. I’m not used to having this side of things,” Aaron said.

“I know,” Robert said quietly. “But if you want us to be together, a proper go and all, we’re going to have to spend some time together where we’re not shagging constantly. I like being with you, whatever we’re doing, so I’ve no problem with that. But you on the other hand…”  

“What about me?” Aaron asked.

“I know it’ll be difficult for you to keep your hands off me because I am quite fit,” Robert said.

“Cocky git.” Aaron laughed a little at that, which had been Robert’s goal.

“I’m only joking,” Robert said. “I’m the one who’ll have the problem keeping my hands to myself all the time.”

Aaron’s face reddened a bit, as it always did when Robert complimented him or talked about wanting him.

Robert’s phone buzzed with a message from Vic that their food was done and she’d be taking it to the backroom for him. “I’ll be right back.”

Robert tried not to run down the stairs but it was a near thing. He just… wanted to be with Aaron. Even if the tension was weird and they were still figuring everything out. He just genuinely liked Aaron as a person and loved spending time with him, no matter what they were doing. It was weird for him, but it felt right and like things were supposed to feel. He grabbed the tray Vic had made up for them and carried it back upstairs.

“Serving me in bed already?” Aaron asked when Robert set the tray on the bed.

“I figured it was a special occasion,” Robert said. He pulled off his jacket and pullover and set them on the chair in the corner. “Besides, that’s mostly Vic’s doing and she’d kill me if I tried to take credit for it all.”

“I’ll have to thank her then,” Aaron said, pulling the tray closer to him.

“Hey!” Robert took off his shoes and set them to the side as well. “I asked her to make something and I did carry it up the stairs and all. Don’t I get some credit?”

“I suppose. But only a little,” Aaron teased. It wasn’t a full smile, but it did brighten his eyes a bit, so Robert would take it.

“Cheers.” Robert settled back against the wall. “What we watching?”

Aaron shrugged. “One of the Gordan Ramsey shows. Lost the remote somewhere and the buttons stick, so it’s only this channel we get.”

“Sounds good to me.” Robert tucked in to his food again and watched as Gordan destroyed and then built up a restaurant again. They both were quiet as they ate and Robert didn’t mind. It was nice and calming, just being with Aaron.

After they’d finished their food, Robert set it all on the floor and promised to take it back down to the kitchen in a bit. It was still early and he didn’t really feel like leaving. He felt like leaving even less when Aaron shuffled over and practically laid on top of Robert.

Robert just held him and didn’t say anything, unsure whether it would ruin the mood or anything. He just wanted to be whatever Aaron needed and not make him feel weird or upset that he wanted a cuddle or a hug or whatever he might need.

Aaron quickly feel asleep and Robert just laid there, barely moving. He knew that Aaron hadn’t been sleeping well and Robert just wanted him to sleep and start finding some peace so he could relax a little bit after everything.

After two episodes, Robert had to get up. He had to go to the loo and wanted to take those dirty dishes down before it got too late.

Robert carefully shuffled Aaron to the side and tried not to wake him.

“What’s happening?” Aaron asked, slurring a bit.

“Shh,” Robert said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Stay,” Aaron asked. “Please just stay the night.”

“I will,” Robert promised. “I’m just taking care of a couple things. I’ll be right back.”

Aaron didn’t respond but he did open his eyes and rub at them. Robert smiled at him as he collected all their rubbish. He tried to pretend like he didn’t rush back up to Aaron, but he definitely did.

Aaron was already snuggled in bed, under the blankets and everything, when Robert got back.

“You sure you want me to stay the night?” Robert asked quietly.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Aaron said.

“Course I do.” Robert shut the door quietly behind him.

“Good,” Aaron said. “Turn off the light when you’re done.”

Robert unbuttoned his shirt, thankful that he was wearing a t-shirt underneath it because he just didn’t want to sleep next to Aaron in only his briefs tonight, not when he was already feeling vulnerable and exhausted. He shut off the light as ordered and slid into the bed besides Aaron.

In the dark, Aaron latched onto him, arms around his waist and legs tangled together. It was overwhelming and brilliant and everything that Robert had ever hoped for.

“Thanks, you know, for staying with me,” Aaron whispered.

“Nothing to thank me for.” Robert rubbed at his back, felt the fabric of what Aaron was wearing. “Is that my jumper?”

Aaron didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I was cold?”

Robert smiled to himself in the dark. “I see.”

“I can take it off, if ya want.”

“Don’t be daft,” Robert told him. “I was just surprised is all. You can wear whatever you want of my stuff.”

“Even your expensive leather jacket?” Aaron teased. There was one time Robert had freaked out over something spilling on it and Aaron had never let him live it down. But the idea of Aaron wearing his jacket, like out in public and through the village, was a visual that Robert was very much on board with.

“Anything,” Robert repeated.

“I’m being weird, aren’t I?” Aaron asked and tensed up in Robert’s arms.

“No, you’re not,” Robert told him.

“I am,” Aaron said, starting to pull away. “We only got back together yesterday. And now I’m wearing your clothes and begging you to just stay and cuddle with me at night because I don’t want to be alone.”

“Aaron,” Robert said, tightening his hold on Aaron just slightly. “I want to be here. I love you, yeah?”

Aaron didn’t say anything to that, but Robert didn’t expect him to.

“We’ve always done things backwards, why stop now, eh?” Robert teased.

Aaron relaxed a bit.

“Besides, Aaron cuddles are my favorite thing in the world, you know,” Robert said. Aaron laughed a little. “I’m serious, Aaron. I want to be there for you. If all you want is me here at night, then I’ll be here. I just… I just want you.”

Aaron pressed his face into Robert’s chest and Robert could feel him breathing heavily for a few seconds. Then Aaron reached up and kissed him. It was over pretty quickly, but it settled something between them.

Aaron settled back down, again nearly on top of Robert, and let out a long breath. Robert just rubbed hand up and down Aaron’s back until he fell asleep again. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it felt like Aaron relaxed and let go of some of that weight he’d been carrying. Even if it hadn’t, Robert would be there with Aaron until he’d be able to either let go of everything he was still carrying from this or, like Aaron said, until he learned to live with it. He’d be right here, next to Aaron.