#talking to the empty room about how this scene is genius

[oobbbear]

I barely animate myself but oh how I want to dissect others animation frame by frame I can talk for hours if you don’t watch animation frame by frame you’re missing out big time

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - it was a pretty darn good time, frankly

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - Everyone looked like they were having a lot of fun in the fight sequences. I’m very happy for them. I’m not surprised they shot Khem and Chart. A little shocked it wasn’t also Yai, TBH.

I found this final episode rushed. According to rumors, The Sign was originally slated to be 14 eps, and it probably should’ve been. And I don’t say that often about Thai BL. But we all knew it was getting too bloated for its britches, so I'm not surprised they fumbled the ending. For me personally, it just wasn't that bad. It was fine and I was fine with it.

Tho, Billy does not look good with facial fur, messes up those gorgeous angles.

I was ultimately amused that the solution to the mythology thread was simply to talk to the river god and persuaded him to give up... off screen. It felt very old school wuxia. Or like Aeschylus or something. I did adore the stinger, Saint was basically like “I want wings too”. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, PNR, fated mates, police procedural, fantasy, mystery, suspense, and slasher. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it. Was it a crazy unhinged mess +1 roll for damage? Yes. Yes it was. Did it manage to hold all those tangled threads together? No it did not. Was it also a charming, sexy, engaging, non-stop piece of entertainment? Sure thing. I think this show is basically my KinnPorsche, and frankly I’ve been chasing that dragon naga since KP aired. Is it perfect? No. But it was balls to the wall FUN and that gets a 9/10 from me.

I'm thinking of doing a full recap review (partly because I have so many great screen shots.)

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 10-11 of 12 - Since this series is following the yaoi so closely, I knew these were the separation eps. (Also I knew with would be a soft non-doom ep 11, Japan rarerly does these.) I like that they used it to show improve communication and development in all relationships, but, frankly, TayNew are just best when they are TayNew together on screen. So yeah. Let’s keep them back together, please?

Meanwhile, TayNew gifted us a gorgeous loving sweet sex scene. Thanks OG for doing us a solid. 

I wanna add, it sure is fun to see New play as soft and vulnerable character, I feel like he hasn’t done that since SOTUS. 

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 12fin - 1/3 of this is a sweet romance about a student doctor falling in love with a student chef, and the rest of it is utter dross. Look the OffGun bits were GREAT.. In fact, I think they’re better AS A PAIR in this show than in any of their other BLS. And I'm a hard sell on any OffGun being better than PickRome. Saying that, how can I review a show where I could only tolerate 1/3 of it? Because I didn’t like any other aspect of this show, no other pairs and no other plots. That gives me: 9/10 for the OffGun bits, 5/10 for everything else. Frankly it probably should be an 8 but I gotta go with my gut and it's upset about this so 7/10. Sorry boys. It’s GMMTV’s fault. Your heart was in this show, mine wasn’t. 

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 12 - These two are so good at making heart eyes at each other. It’s ridiculous. They don’t need any cartoon images or noises. Moot crush but "I wanna flirt and court more" is so flipping awesome. I love this for them… and us. 

1000 Years Old ep 2 of 12 - It’s very silly and we have been gifted with the dorkiest vampire ever. But... the smell thing makes me so happy. And I like that the vamp uses chan/nai or tan = v old fashioned. Nahlak. I love our ghost girl. Did you notice she wasn’t in the room with them but they left an empty chair for her? Also nahlak.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - Kai was pretty much just “you're a workaholic but I basically married you whether you like it or not.” SMOOCH. What can I say? I'm a sucker for this dynamic.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - How is this show so cute? How do they both love and hurt each other so much. They are both just scared of loosing each other. Gah.

Unknown (Taiwan Sat Youku YouTube) 1 of 12 eps - Youku dropped the first ep to their YouTube channel but I doubt we can expect that to continue. Still, it was nice to be able to watch it in a convenient way. I enjoyed it. But I am cautious about it. Of course this is possibly two of my favorite tropes of all time (stepbrothers or a variation + hyung romance). So I’m looking forward to the romantic thread, but from the gritty style, it feels a lot more like a Taiwanese short. Which means it could go very dark and may not end happy. 

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I just don’t know if the main couple should be a couple. But when they finally get around to talking to each other, they sure are lovely. Also how great is it to see a uke initiate a kiss? Even if it’s not a very good kiss. 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 8 - I am still not sure about this one. I am not contesting its quality, just saying it’s not for me. Also I’m not wild about what amounts to basically a redo of everything that already happened in the first episode from a different perspective. I know it’s a tall order with Japan, but I would like (when it’s a short series) for each new installment to actually move the plot (such as it is) along in someway. Am I asking too much?

It's done but I have no time

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

It's airing but...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting but full of unlikable characters. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far. Ends next week TF.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. Should I bother to go grey for it?

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand YT) - High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite when both of them have full time jobs but coming out is still a problem. You can watch this on YT but it has no Eng Subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

We're light on content right now, but frankly I'm so busy with work I don't really mind.

3/6 Born to be Y (Thai ????) 10 eps - 14 contestants who audition to compete in Born To Be Y, a program that searches for the best couple of the year to work together on a giant project. Described as semi-reality series. So I probably won't bother.

3/7 Deep Night (Thai iQiyi) 10 eps - Multiple romances set in a host clubs. Nice to see First back on my screen but this is not my favorite setting.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

The eyes have it.

Your random BL moment brought to you by my ult-bias being a hyung smartass to his maknae.

(Last week)

[highly-opinionated-ramblings]

(Little mid-timeskip scene with Perona, Zoro, and Mihawk:)

The castle was beautiful, but empty. And quiet. So, so quiet, aaaaalllllllllll the time. Perona had never been able to stand the quiet.

To fill the space, she sang. She wasn't the best at it, but it was better than talking to herself all the time, she thought. Plus, it was comforting, in a way.

Mihawk was typically apathetic about her singing. But Zoro, being the good and proper pirate that he was, often added his voice to hers.

This particular evening, as she set about preparing dinner, she found herself reminded of an old familiar children’s song, one that she remembered her mother singing to her while at work in her own kitchen.

“There was a boy called Johnny King, who used to ride his bike-”

“Up and down this simple country lane,” Zoro joined in, from where he was casually leaning back in his chair at the table.

Perona smiled. “Now he’s gone to sea, to sail under the black flag of death, and- ack!”

She dove for the stove as her pot threatened to boil over. As she did so, Zoro completed the verse-

“And all the people know he won’t come home again.”

“What?” Perona turned back around, having got the situation at the stove back under control, and frowned. “That’s not how it goes.”

“Uh, yeah it is. Didn’t you know?”

“No, no, it’s ‘the people far and wide all know his name’.”

“...Huh? No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

“I’ve heard both,” Mihawk put in before the argument could develop any further. “Zoro’s is the East Blue version, Perona’s is the version here in the Grand Line.”

“Oh. Ohhh, well, I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it? Maybe he was a real guy, and he went from the East Blue to the Line.”

“Maybe so,” Zoro nodded. “That would also explain the difference in the two lines themselves. If he died at sea, he never actually would come home again, would he?”

“But then, the other version isn’t necessarily wrong. I mean, we do all still know his name, don’t we?”

“I guess we do.”

“So he must have had at least some success as a pirate. That’s…I don’t know, it’s kind of fascinating.”

"If you say so," Mihawk shrugged.

“That guy Noland ended up being a real guy," Zoro said thoughtfully, "from that North Blue children's book."

"You mean Liar Noland?"

"Yeah, but it turned out that he wasn't lying."

"What," Perona frowned as she began ladling steaming pasta onto plates for each of them, "are you saying you found the lost city, then?"

"Yeah. It was on a sky island."

"...That's a story I haven't heard."

"I'll tell you sometime, then," Zoro said around a huge yawn.

"As long as it's not at the dinner table, please," Mihawk sniffed.

"Hey, Hawkeyes, how come there's no songs or books about you out there?"

"I don't know, but I am thankful that there aren't."

"I bet we could make our own! Mihawk, Mihawk, with blade of steel and, uh, eyes of gold..."

"Lord of the sea and Kuraigana cold," Zoro added with a snort.

"Yes, that's genius! We've got to write this down!"

"On second thought, I believe I will just take my meal in my room."

[ofthecaravel]

Gold Satin Dreamer

Summary: Danny follows a trail of little white lies right to the door of the object of his affections, Harvard hotshot Sam Kiszka, who invites him in with open arms and an incessant need to blur boundaries.

Tags: Danny being very/a little creepily obsessed with Sam (but like in a hot way), unrequited (??) feelings, NSFW!!! (masturbation, dirty talk, cum), homoerotically toeing the line of friendship

Words: 5.7k

A/N: This is inspired by Saltburn (which I recommend you watch, btw) but not as intense as it gets in the movie. Mostly references and borrowed themes of obsession and devotion. So, you know, this might not be for everyone! You've been warned >:)

also thank you @holdingup-fallingsky for the inspo during A Scene, you da best

~~~

Danny had gotten everything he’d wanted. Everything he worked so hard towards had been handed right to him, but now that he was sitting pretty in the middle of the glamour he’d been so hungry for, he couldn’t help but find it all particularly excruciating. 

First, there were the meals. Breakfast and lunch could slide by without any troubles for Danny, but the formal wear reserved for the quiet, fanciful dinners tended to dig against his skin and pique his anxiety. And the only thing worse than dinner was the time after dinner, when he’d be left alone in his room that was way too big with very little to do but read or wander the halls if he was feeling brave. During the days, Danny would kindly ward off the endless parade of questions from Sam’s deceptively sweet mom about his life back at home. The days also held a myriad of startling encounters with Sam’s older brothers, Josh and Jake, glittering and grinning twins who couldn’t be more different and more invested in the most personal details of Danny’s life. Danny had met Jake back on Harvard’s campus after he’d gotten under Sam’s thumb enough to be introduced to his brooding, supposed genius of a brother, but Danny was met with nothing more than a lukewarm reception. Jake tacked on jabs and quips to the ends of Josh’s elaborate attempts at conversation and never seemed satisfied with Danny’s answers, no matter how cool or lighthearted or perfectly catered they were. Even after a few weeks staying with them, Danny couldn’t figure out if either of them liked him at all.

Yet the real issue at the heart of it all wasn’t his social anxiety or boredom or even the upkeep of his slew of little white lies. 

It was Sam. 

Always Sam.

Stiff collars and warm blazers didn’t seem to matter when the heaviest presence was Sam’s flitting feline stares from across the table. His face would be lit up golden in the candlelight as he came to Danny’s rescue in conversation when his words faltered even for a moment. Danny’s room never felt as wide and as empty when he pressed his ear to the door of the bathroom separating their rooms and heard Sam and his brothers laughter through the walls and across the tile. Or, on the worst occasions, he’d hear Sam’s obscenely uncensored sighs over the slosh of water in the bathtub. Danny would sit there with his ear rubbed red on the wood until the water stilled and Sam’s whimpers turned to light humming, signaling it was time for Danny to quickly take care of himself before rushing to brush his teeth at the same time as Sam. 

It was obvious from the start that Danny was The Guest in the Saltburn estate that Sam called home for winter and summer break. Sam had been so eager to invite poor, lonely Danny to spend the summer with him. Danny, whose poor loneliness had been decisively orchestrated, was more than happy to humbly accept that invitation into his world. He’d gotten his first ticket during a “chance meeting” when Danny had lended Sam a helping hand during a “freak accident” bike tire blowout, and since then he’d strategized his growing proximity to Sam through offhand sob stories and persistent company when Sam’s other lackeys grew tired of his boisterous personality. Well placed whispers of a home life that was far from the reality of Danny’s adoring close knit community and occasional sad little sighs were the nail in the coffin. Danny remembered often and fondly how Sam had spirited him away one blue evening to sit and shoot the breeze on a secluded bridge walkway to celebrate finishing their finals. He remembered the hysterical flurry of butterflies in his stomach when Sam had paused conversation and watched his long legs swinging over the water before he turned his smile on Danny and asked. Except he hadn’t asked, had he?

“Come home with me,” Sam had demanded, really. “Come to Saltburn.”

And Danny had. How could he not? A summer alone with Sam had seemed too good to be true. And now he knew it was. The reality was all the time he got alone with Sam was far more overwhelming than he could’ve imagined. 

Danny had a horrible feeling from the time he’d met Sam that Sam was going to pick up on Danny’s shy, yes man behavior in his presence and put two and two together. Lately, Sam seemed to not only know that, but play into it every chance that he could. At school, Sam was happy to have Danny around, but was also completely comfortable in waving him away for days at a time in favor of his fellow medical student buddies and the girls that flew to him like moths. This Saltburn invitation apparently carried more weight than Danny had realized. And it was driving Danny up the wall.

 Sam would chase off his brothers and beg Danny to spend all day at the pool with him, only to avoid the water all together and lay out on a lounge chair to work his way through an entire box of popsicles and stare at clouds. Danny swore Sam would sneak glances at him when the sugar would melt and roll down his chin with his cheeks hollowed to catch what he could and making no further effort to clean up what he couldn’t. Danny would stare up at the sun and blink the image of Sam’s bare, sun warmed, sticky sweet skin into white blurs that hurt his eyes, but the memory of it would linger in his head throughout the day and render him flushed and embarrassed. 

Sam had also steadily picked up a habit of touching Danny at all times. Sam had been touchy since Danny had befriended him at the start of the semester and often patted his knee or dragged him into quick, one armed side hugs that made them both stumble. However, since coming to Saltburn, he had graduated to grazing Danny’s leg with his shoe under the dinner table after his brothers would say something snarky, as well as perching on his lap to show him books and photos that Danny cared about far less than the sensation of Sam sitting on him.   

But Sam’s worst development was that he couldn’t seem to stay out of Danny’s bed. Danny had gotten a look at the tall ceiling and resplendent treasures that Sam had somehow turned to clutter and wondered how Sam ever found the strength to venture outside of the comfort of it. And yet, with each night that passed, Danny found himself waiting for Sam’s inevitable knock on the bathroom door leading into Danny’s much less extravagant guest room. He’d smile with faux sheepishness, clutching a pillow and blanket as if Danny’s bed wasn’t regularly replenished with more pillows than could accommodate the number of bodies that could fit in the bed.

“What’s the point of having you stay the whole summer if we’re not gonna hang out the whole time?” Sam had questioned with a wicked grin the third time he’d been let into Danny’s room. He landed hard on Danny’s bed with a bounce and a sigh, falling backwards and covering the expanse of the quilt with his wingspan and long splay of hair. Danny watched and cringed when the dainty roll of his wrist landed squarely on the spot where he had shamefully finished earlier after enduring the glorious torture of Sam spending the evening curled into his side on the living room couch. 

“And what’s the point of having a bed all to myself if you’re going to take up two thirds of it every night?” Danny countered, sitting on the plush mattress and laughing when Sam scoffed.

“You just go ahead and tell me when you’re sick of me and I’ll be sure to write it down and not give a shit,” Sam smiled, rolling his head to look Danny straight in the eye. “I mean, this is the point in the summer when I really can’t stand Jake or Josh. I need you to keep me sane.”

“Summer’s not even halfway over yet,” Danny pointed out with an enamored little laugh. “And didn’t you all live here together for, I don’t know, the first 18 years of your life?”

“Nope,” Sam said with a subtle pop on the p. “It was boarding school for the lot of us. A private, no girls allowed sort of affair from, I don’t know, 6th grade to senior year. How do you think me and Jake managed to swing Harvard? All that rigorous private school education.”

“Jake and I,” Danny corrected teasingly. “Must not have been that rigorous.”

“Come on, I would’ve totally let that slide if it were you,” Sam complained. “And not just because you’re a scholarship student.”

“Ooh, harsh,” Danny whispered with the cadence of a fake blow to his ego. Danny had also been a private school kid, matter of fact, but as long as Sam believed he had gotten into Harvard with nothing but a golf scholarship, he figured they’d both be happier. 

“I’m only joking,” Sam immediately relented, sitting up and curling his legs under him. “You’re a boy genius or whatever.”

“I’m also terrifically humble,” Danny hummed, faking a little stretch and letting his knee knock against Sam’s. “What were you saying about boarding school?”

“Ugh, nothing really,” Sam said with a dramatic curl of his lip. “Just that my brothers drove me crazy there and they drive me crazy here just the same. They’ve spent their whole stupid lives forcing me to do whatever they want to do. You’ve seen that they’re still convinced they can dress me up like they did when I was 4. And I always end up having to run for stupid tennis balls when they wanna play on the courts. But I’m 21 now, like, maybe I want to call the shots this year.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job at bossing me around,” Danny shrugged casually, trying to play himself off by scooting backwards and leaning back against the pillows he had propped up while waiting for Sam to knock. “If that helps at all.”

Sam looked at him for a long couple of seconds with a completely unreadable expression. It settled into an amused smile with his dark eyebrows arched in surprise, abandoning his seated position to lie on his front and look up at Danny.

“You are so odd,” Sam noted with an air of awe, laughing as he said it. “It does help a little, actually. I mean, fuck you, but, yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

“Were you under the impression that you were entirely passive?” Danny asked, half sincere and half joking. “Were you unaware you’ve got at least 20 people at your disposal at all times when we’re at school?”

Sam laughed a little uncomfortably, caught in a lie that Danny knew he was entirely unaware of. Sam was never quite the damsel and never quite the hero, but he was always pretending he was either one or the other as if it were proven truth. When they’d met, Sam had been a knight in shining armor ready with confidence to shake the world, but after a few months of friendship, he began to intermittently present as a poor, pathetic thing that Danny needed to build back up. It was ridiculous and Danny lapped it up every time. He dreamed about the days when Sam had cornered him at parties only to release him into a throng of his other friends, parading him around to show them all the boy he’d managed to save from poverty and irrelevance. 

“Yeah, well,” Sam started, stuttering slightly as he flushed under Danny’s honesty. “Those ‘20 people’ don’t get to come home with me like you do.”

“Was I hand selected for your little summer camp because I’m so easily bossed around?” Danny questioned, another insecure laugh coloring the end of his query.

“No!” Sam blurted defensively. Danny laughed, his nose scrunching with a fit of giggles as Sam stammered and tried to save face. 

“I’m just saying I like you better than the people at school,” Sam professed genuinely, reaching up and across to clamp a hand on Danny’s thigh. “I didn’t bring you here to boss you around, sheesh. I brought you with me because, like I said, you bad listener, you keep me sane. And I trust you not to tattle about the whole Jake and Josh outfits thing.”

“I like their fashion shows,” Danny smiled, violently aware of Sam’s hand still on his thigh, heavy and unmoving. “And the stuff they so evilly force you to put on isn’t bad at all.”

“Liar,” Sam grumbled, childishly muffling the bottom half of his face in his palm as he huffed. Danny watched his silent tantrum with affection.

For once, Danny wasn’t really lying. The outfits they trapped Sam into trying on were actually very easy on the eyes for Danny. Twice then the twins had sat Danny down in Josh’s white and tidy room to walk him through the entire inventory of his closet, forcing him to sit and wait patiently when Jake would mad dash to his room next door to pull out identical or similar pieces for them to lecture about and compare. They insisted it was a much needed education for Danny, who frequented polos and straight leg pants instead of the silken dress shirts and embroidered slacks that were apparently much more suited to him. Sam’s recommendations always fell more on the more “daring” side of the fashion spectrum, usually involving glimmering thread, dainty jewelry and, on more than one occasion, a skirt. Josh and Sam would loudly fight over Sam’s consistent refusal of Josh’s “fashion counsel” while Jake stared at Danny like a hawk over his Saint Laurent sunglasses, somehow hearing the dirty thoughts in Danny’s head at the sight of Sam pacing in a sparkling red skirt and trying to expel them with his mind. 

“I mean, you wouldn’t tell,” Sam piped up again, suddenly genuinely shy. “About all that. It’s not a big deal here but, I don’t know, people at school might not be as cool about the whole necklaces and…and skirts and shit. It’s whatever but-”

“I promise I won’t,” Danny assured Sam. “I would never.”

“Are you even gonna tell anyone that you came here?”

A split second decision. It changed things.

“I haven’t come at all since I’ve been here, actually, so you have nothing to worry about there,” Danny joked, his cheeks lighting up with warmth at his lie and the crudity of his words. Sam’s face went similarly pink as he let out a single shocked laugh, his hand finally retreating from Danny’s thigh like a slap to the face.

“I see what you did there,” Sam stammered through another nervous laugh. “Very clever. You’re an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole,” Danny echoed meekly, turning his eyes down to a piece of dry skin on his nailbed that he picked at as a horrible minute of quiet passed between them. 

He’d gone too far, he was sure of it. Sam would give him another tinny giggle reserved for his friends he didn’t even like, scoop up his blanket and bid Danny a polite goodnight so they could restart in the morning. He was sure of it. Danny wanted to crawl inside of himself and turn off the lights.

Instead.

“Have you really not?” Sam asked, his voice barely audible and muffled slightly by his lips barely moving. He didn’t even look at Danny when he asked it. 

“Feels wrong,” Danny answered simply, giving an unassuming little shrug as he finally looked up from his fingers and studied Sam’s face. Sam’s brow was crinkled in thought as he picked at the loose yarn on the top quilt of Danny’s bed, his eyes hidden by his thick fan of lashes. 

“So, what, you’re just not gonna do it the whole time you’re here?” Sam teased, still treading very lightly. “You leave in August. That’s a long time.”

“It’s too nice here,” Danny argued, not even pausing to think about what the hell kind of conversation this was. “I’d feel totally weird doing it in this bed. It’s probably a million years old and has a rich history that I’d be disrespecting.”

He hadn’t felt weird about it, actually. In his eyes, he had no choice but to exorcise whatever little demons Sam afflicted him with. In the bed, on the floor by the door, in the bath. On occasion, wiped clean with a handkerchief that Sam had given him as a birthday gift.

“Obviously you don’t have to,” Sam said coolly, his legs now kicked up and absentmindedly moving as he talked. “I don’t want you to freak out on me is all. But, like, I don’t really care either way. Just saying.”

“It kinda sounds like you care,” Danny challenged, his eyes still dragging over Sam and his easy body language. He enjoyed watching the moment it changed. A muscle tensed in his jaw and his shoulders that only Danny ever cared to notice and he watched with quiet thrill as Sam’s expressions shuffled.  

“I care about you being comfortable,” Sam replied in a strange, soft tone. 

“I’ll just get it out of the way tonight, then,” Danny said calmly, fighting the nervous tremor in his voice. “You can come back for a sleepover tomorrow night. Okay?”

Sam sighed for a long moment and stretched his arms out in front of him on the bed, dramatically face planting and muffling his groan. His legs were still kicking petulantly as Danny stared him down and tried to think of what he was going to do. He rarely did anything Danny suggested he did, and Danny usually had a pretty good grasp on how Sam would act in situations after months of studying his every little move. But this exchange was foreign from the very beginning and Danny felt an anxious, blind itch in his throat as time ticked on between them.

“But I’m so comfortable,” Sam complained into the blanket. “You’re really gonna make me move? In my own home?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow then,” Danny laughed nervously. It seemed like the only thing he remembered how to do now that he was riding entirely on his reflexes. 

“Well, I’m gonna wanna sleepover tomorrow, too,” Sam murmured, his head turning so he was facing Danny’s pajamaed leg. “I said I wanna hang out.”

“Sam,” Danny rasped, the last ghost of his laugh settling into a rattling exhale that sent them into another silent spell. His heart was buzzing like a hummingbird inside his chest, which felt porcelain thin and ready to crumble.

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Sam whispered, his lips starting to spread into a muted, impish smile as he finally looked up at Danny. “I’m just, I don’t know, curious now that I’m thinking about it.”

“How do you know this won’t be the thing I tell people when we go back to school?” Danny challenged. 

He wanted to bite his tongue in half after he’d said it. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn’t it? From the moment he’d spotted Sam through the car window on freshman year move in day, Danny had wanted little else but to bend to his every whim. Now here he was, perfectly in the palm of Sam’s hand, and he was aching to stop it for some reason beyond his understanding.

He’d figure it out later on. Deep down, Danny knew that once he had Sam like this, he would never really be able to stop whatever kind of obsession he’d been diving in over the duration of the school year. He would drop like a stone and touch the bottom and never feel the warmth of moderation and sanity ever again.

“You like me, Danny. You know I know that.”

Goodbye to the world up above. Hello to the refreshing darkness of nothing but Sam, Sam, Sam. 

Danny froze, then remembered to breathe, and then he was hard. Sam’s words slammed into him while Sam lay there like nothing had been revealed but the smile on his face.

“I’m not dumb,” Sam flirted. “And you’re not dumb. I haven’t been easy on you since you’ve been here but, come on, not just anyone gets an invitation to Saltburn with me. You have to know at this point that maybe, I also, I don’t know…you know what I’m trying to say.”

“Sam-”

“We don’t have to talk about anything,” Sam interjected quickly. “And you’re not going to tell anyone, I know that much. Just…I wanna see you. And it’ll give you a little taste of my boarding school experience, actually. Circle jerks were totally a bonding thing. It’ll make us closer. I wanna be closer.”

“You’re a little desperate, aren’t you?” Danny asked quietly and very hypocritically. “You’re not even pent up enough to be nagging me like this.”

“And how would you know that?”

“You took a bath last night. You’re not exactly quiet. Honestly, dude, after this conversation, I’m starting to think that you want me to hear you.”

Sam’s mouth snapped shut and a flush bloomed high on his cheeks as he and Danny stared each other down. The thick tension in the air stretched and groaned. Danny was visibly straining in his thin summertime pajama pants as he adjusted slightly and waited for Sam to say something. Anything. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam admitted casually, sniffing and shrugging awkwardly while balanced on his elbows. “Only ‘cause I know you’ll be listening.”

“Fuck,” Danny breathed with his voice cracking, his hand unconsciously going to grasp at his clothed dick for any kind of relief from the weight of Sam’s words. Sam watched it happen and blinked patiently, lazily resting his chin in the palm of his hand like he was settling in to watch a movie. His dark eyes flicked up to Danny expectantly, a silent “Well? Go on.” that Danny received loud and clear.

If the rest of the world was already putting on a performance for Sam, Danny decided that he might as well be his favorite actor.

“I really do like you,” Danny admitted nervously, forcing the words out as he awkwardly shimmied his pants down and freed his dick into his palm. Sam’s eyes widened ever so slightly as they wandered over Danny’s lower stomach and the dark trail of hair that led to his cock, which Danny had begun to very slowly stroke with his hand shaking slightly.

“Jesus,” Sam muttered, exhaling a silent laugh through his nose. “Didn’t expect you to be so well endowed.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah. I already told you I know.”

“I thought you might have more to say.”

“Man, can’t we just leave that alone for a second?” Sam asked snippily, his hips rolling against the mattress as he let out a frustrated breath. “Fuck’s sake. Just keep going.”

Danny complied with a slight sting to his feelings, his pace increasing and his lips pressing together obediently to keep himself from prying further. A few minutes of silent touching and hip rocking passed before a barely contained noise escaped Sam’s lips and he let out yet another annoyed sigh.

“Talk to me,” Sam whined, reaching out again and digging his fingers into Danny’s thigh where it was still covered by fabric. Danny’s hips bucked slightly in response and he desperately tried to unclog his thoughts from the steady, blurry stream of Sam memories he’d gotten lost in like he usually did. Then he realized that might be exactly what Sam wanted to hear about. 

“Sorry,” Danny apologized. “I, I was thinking about you.”

“What about me?” Sam asked with a thin, reedy voice as a hand disappeared under his groin, soon followed by the sight of his pants being pushed down around his ankles. Curiously enough, he didn’t remove his briefs.

“Everything,” Danny replied truthfully, his eyes rolling slightly as he slowed his pace and enjoyed the infuriating simmer of pleasure rolling on his skin. “I like everything about you. How you cut your hair, how you look in the sun…I, uh, I like your body.”

Danny felt a palpable strain from the muscles in his stomach as he fought the urge to tell Sam the actual extent of what “everything” was. 

Danny did like Sam’s hair; he liked it so much that he’d slowly begun to use his shampoo so he could smell its sweetness on his pillow and pretend it was left there by Sam himself. 

Danny did like Sam in the sun; he specifically liked the sweat that rolled down his skin so he could picture licking it up with a dutiful curl of his tongue.

 Danny did like Sam’s body; he liked the tension and repose of it through his first story dorm window, which was perfectly placed and never curtained so Danny could kneel and observe without obstruction.

“More,” Sam begged, his hand still holding fast to Danny as they both began to pant and shudder.

“You’re a brat,” Danny complained right back. Sam shivered appropriately at the title, muffling his mouth with his hand and his head falling forward right after. His hair fell in a chestnut curtain and hid his expression from Danny, which he immediately missed. His hips continued to grind into the mattress and his rhythm was growing erratic and sore. Danny grinned wide at his response, allowing himself the luxury of quickening his pace on himself now that he’d given Sam something. He’d known it would land. He knew what kind of porn Sam watched.

It’s why Danny felt confident in reaching out and running his fingers along the silky crown of Sam’s hair before lightly tugging to yank Sam’s head back up, where he was met with the satisfying sight of Sam gawking at him with round eyes and his (what appeared to be freshly bitten) lips ajar. 

“Thought you wanted to watch?” Danny taunted weakly, struggling to evoke any semblance of dominance while he felt his orgasm begin to creep up on him after struggling to stave it off for as long as possible. When it came to Sam, he was used to finishing fast.

“Fuck off,” Sam whimpered, his brow crinkling in concentration as he let himself be held up by Danny’s gentle grip on him. His rutting into the mattress quickened before suddenly petering out as Sam’s chin tipped upwards and his nose gently brushed against Danny’s inner forearm. His eyes fluttered close and splayed his dark lashes as he drew in a shivering breath and then let out a choked little laugh. 

“You’re wearing my cologne,” Sam rasped tonelessly. 

A small thread of panic wound around Danny, but his body alchemized it into lustful adrenaline and he took Sam’s revelation with a groan. He was seconds away now, and he knew where he wanted it to end. 

“You love it,” Danny growled, his arm burning with overexertion as he welcomed the familiar, buzzing warmth that was taking over his senses. He fuzzily pondered the etiquette of this situation when it came to telling Sam he was close, but his impulses quickly won over verbal communication. Danny felt himself gripping Sam’s hair a little tighter and pulling him slightly forward, losing himself in the white hot ecstasy of his high as he spilled over onto his hand and, as he’d find when he finally opened his eyes, Sam’s cheek and chin. Sam gasped at the contact and Danny let go of him, his own head falling backwards against the oak headboard as he attempted to catch his breath. He stared up at the ornate ceiling as his cheeks burned with uncomfortable heat. 

Moments like these were the rare ones where Sam faded to the edges of Danny’s thoughts along with everything else, and Sam took the silence from Danny as an opportunity to jostle the bed for a few more thrusts before giving a simpering, keening whine that signaled his own end. Danny’s ears perked at the familiar noise and snapped his head back down to look at Sam, who was looking right back at him wearing a mask of bleary afterglow. He was panting ever so slightly with watery eyes that stuck his lashes together and turned them cartoonishly starry. Danny quickly noted the glossy cum painting the lower half of Sam’s face and felt the air get punched out of his lungs, drawing in a choked breath as his hand drifted up on instinct. His thumb made keen contact with Sam’s lower lip and brushed it gently, pressing into the smooth pink flesh and collecting his release as his thumb swiped across. As he did so, Sam’s mouth slowly fell agape while his brows knit slightly, allowing access for Danny to wipe his thumb against Sam's tongue. Sam let out a small, barely audible gag before closing his mouth and continuing a stubborn eye contact with Danny as he swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing while Danny let a fulfilled smile tint his face.

Allowing himself to indulge in this spell of arrogance, Danny’s hand balled the collar of Sam’s sleep shirt and tugged so that Sam stumbled forward and crawled reflexively over Danny. When they were face to face, Danny eagerly leaned in and dragged his tongue up Sam’s chin and cheek, trying not to groan at the combined sensation of Sam’s skin pressing against his tongue and the taste of it mixing with the cum. One of Sam’s hands came up and clenched Danny’s shoulder for stability as he shuddered in Danny’s grip, letting out a hurried exhale as Danny’s lips remained on him. His tongue retreated and instead he pressed a kiss to Sam’s sweaty, now spit slick cheek. His eyes closed contemplatively while the both of them did nothing but breathe erratically and cling to each other.

Sam soon turned his head so that his mouth came to rest against Danny’s lips, hesitating slightly before fully driving them into a proper kiss. It was slick and clumsy despite Sam’s professions of frequent sexual conquests, but Danny was convinced that he’d never felt a sensation more euphoric and deliciously numbing. Danny cupped Sam’s face in his hands as they fumbled their way through a couple of inept yet long lasting kisses. 

It was Sam who pulled away first, leaning back on Danny’s thighs and wiping his mouth and face with the back of his hand while Danny blearily watched him. He could see the wet patch on Sam’s otherwise clean white briefs and focused his energy on remembering it for later when he’d reflect on this exchange with his dick in his hand again. Sam blinked dumbly as the aftershock settled over them before he finally cleared his throat and looked everywhere but Danny’s eyes. 

“Well,” Sam exhaled with a short, hoarse laugh. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, his voice still airy with awe at his luck. “Fuck.”

“I…um, I’ll let you go for the night,” Sam announced, lingering a second longer before moving off of Danny and sheepishly collecting his pants and pillow. He stood with slightly shaky legs and smiled down at Danny, who stared back with a questioning look. 

“No sleepover?” Danny asked pathetically, pulling his pants back up and pulling his knees to his chest to try and hide the second wind of his erection at the realization that Sam was clearly about to forget his blanket.

“Nah,” Sam said, staring at his socks before offering another unstable smile. “This was fun, though. Seriously. Didn’t peg you as such a kinky motherfucker.”

“That’s me,” Danny joked weakly. “Hey, uh, are we cool?”

“Very cool,” Sam promised, winking at Danny before flouncing off towards the bathroom door. “Night!”

“Night,” Danny called after him. The door shut with a click of the lock behind Sam, and Danny didn’t hesitate to instantly melt back into his seat of pillows with his hands over his face. His dick was already aching for attention again already as he tried to steady his breathing and process the last hour. 

Danny’s mind immediately began to wage war against him.

He had him. He had Sam. Finally.

Sam had been here with him in a way he had only ever fantasized about, but at the same time, he had just merrily walked away from the huge thing they’d wound up that would have to be untangled by the both of them, preferably as soon as possible.

Why didn’t Sam want to stay the night with him anymore? 

Now that they had gotten the experimenting out of the way, would that be the last time anything like that ever happened?

Did Sam even like it?

Did Sam even like him?

Danny slid down the pillows and pulled Sam’s blanket over his head, gripping it tightly and breathing in the spiced scent of him to try and clear his head while also attempting to hide himself from Sam, the room, and, if he was lucky, the world. Things suddenly felt very lonely at the bottom of his mind. 

Then, there came a sound to the right of Danny. It pushed through the wall, familiar and relieving. Pressurized water rushing out of the faucet and spilling loudly, warbling and muffling itself as the minutes passed and the porcelain tub began to fill. After a memorized amount of time, the faucet fell silent and Danny lay there trying to quell the sound of his own breathing so his ears could properly strain to hear what he knew was coming next.

There came an unexpected second sound that didn’t require any strain at all to hear. 

The sound of a lock unclicking. 

Danny removed the blanket from his eyes and sat up to see that the bathroom door was now scarcely ajar, allowing for a golden slice of light to cut across the dark hardwood flooring and the maroon persian rug. 

Danny felt the smile return to his face as he saw the light bob in and out of shadow with movement from within the bathroom, tossing the blanket off him and swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he could quietly pad towards the light. Danny now properly understood the value of Sam’s invitations, and he felt no hesitation walking right in with a newfound air of confidence.

Especially now that he had so much to prove.

~~~

[f1-giuki]

Well hello darling 👀

I saw your plea for escape from contract law, so here I come! *falls of the disk-horse like a drunk knight*

Red, White and Orange-Nassau buuuuut… make it switched!

For Want of a Nail: Charles as the prince and Max as the music genius 👀 the scene I shall leave up to you 🫶🌻

Hello darling!! Sorry if it took me a shit ton of time to answer but I’ve been away and I was overwhelmed by the amount of things I had to do sjsjsjs.

Yoongi’s third mixtape just came out, and the amygdala performance inspired me to write this thingy and the amount of lestappen content of both yesterday and this morning made me crazy eheheh, so here it is💖💖

If in Red, White & Orange-Nassau the roles were inverted Charles would be the perfect prince charming, very pretty, very media trained, without a political opinion, the middle man in everything, and Max would be a punk-rock singer, a bit of a mixture between Lewis Capaldi in sense of talent and sense of humour, and Joe Strummer. Max is against monarchies and he hates rich people who don't pay taxes, so Charles is his number one enemy. Charles doesn't have an opinion about Max, he just thinks he's a bit untidy, with his long hair and his vintage leather jacket, and sometimes he talks a lot of shit.

But back to the scene, it's the kiss scene:👀👀

[...]

As the DJ lets the beat drop Charles and Charlotte look at each other and laugh, he kisses her then, holding her waist gently and she cups his face gently with her slender fingers. They both smile in it and something starts gnawing up his stomach, something green and unpleasant. Jealousy. Max realises which feeling it is as he sees his feet carrying him away from the ballroom, wandering and getting lost in the Royal Palace of Monaco.

Charlotte starts laughing as their kiss ends. But she turns serious once she doesn't spot Max anymore in the room. She taps Charles’s shoulder. You can tell him, her glance says. Charles nods and he wiggles out of the crowd, trying to think where Max might have gone. He looks back at Charlotte in the middle of the dancefloor and she rolls her eyes and indicates the left. Charles raises a thumbs up to her and he starts walking towards Max. He knows that there is only one room that Max could have gone to that way. He reaches the top floor and hears the sound of a piano echoing in the empty hall.

Max is playing, beautifully, Clair de Lune by Debussy. The picture is idyllic, the room is dark, the giant crystal chandelier is turned off, but there is a bit of light peeking inside. There is a huge open window on a wall and the sea breeze is moving the soft white curtains. The Moon and the stars are out in the sky. A nice finishing touch if it were a painting. Charles grins and rests with a shoulder leaning on the door post, listening to Max. Maybe this is what being in the painting The Boulevard Montmartre at Night feels like. Charles doesn't say anything for the five minutes of the piece.

"Debussy, huh?" Charles asks.

Max looks at him with a gaze that Charles cannot describe differently from nostalgic. "Yeah, it helps me clear my mind," he answers quietly, blinking a few times to better see in the dark the man in front of him.

"Didn't take you for a classical piano guy, to be honest," Charles says with his nice accent. He seems both amused and endeared. Max wishes he wouldn't have to think about such things.

Max rolls his eyes and he moves a bit to the side on the piano chair, to make space for Charles. The Monegasque sits down and Max starts playing again, Charles can't take his eyes off Max's hands. Max can't stop think about their thighs touching. He clears his throat and looks at Charles. Wrong move. Max coughs a little bit more.

"Debussy is one of my favourite composers. He was an impressionist musician, he's, how can I explain this to you while I'm drunk... Oh! Think about Monet, think about Impression sunrise, the painting, the mellow and blurry and slightly numb feeling you get by looking at it. His music is that way, too. Instead of using the precision and clarity of the classical scales, Debussy preferred the ambiguity and vagary of the pentatonic and whole-tone scales, which is like, complicated shit, I don't have the mental capacity to explain it to you..." Max says, gesticulating like a madman as Charles looks at him with a dopey smile. He should stop, that's what Max is thinking about.

"May I?" Charles asks and Max nods.

The Dutchman watches as Charles puts his hands on the piano. They feel awfully at ease, in a position Max strangely recognise, relaxed and tangerine shaped. "That's C major, everything starts from it," Max says and Charles grins and starts playing a tune that is much too familiar to Max. It's Reverie by Debussy and Max's brain goes haywire. He can't understand anything anymore, Charles is there, next to him, their arms brushing as the Monegasque plays the piano so softly. Max has to focus on the notes to be sure that he isn't dreaming the whole thing.

Max keeps his mouth shut in religious silence. Everything is Charles, his hands, delicate and with a royal ring on them, travelling on the keyboard of the beautiful piano forte. Those are the hands of a pianist, a tormented one, one that Max would like to know, maybe write a song with. Hands he would like to hold and turn warm when they're cold. He doesn't understand what has changed. Confusion is still present in him mind, with a flowery warmth.

When Charles stops playing his eyes are spanking. He lowers his hand and the knuckles brush against the back of Max's hand at their sides. Max looks at Charles’s face in profile, gaze running down his features touched by a ray of moonlight. Max's cheeks feel too, it's something as intoxicating as the liquor he drank, but it's not liquor, it's more dangerous. The Palace is awfully quiet, the party seems like a distant memory, Monaco is not the centre of the world anymore. Max feels silly to admit it, but his world just ended up in that empty room with white clothes over expensive furniture.

Charles keeps looking at him, holding his gaze, softening his smile.

“I really like Debussy too, he's true to his feelings. I am usually numb to most things, but he makes me feel emotions I thought I buried deep somewhere...” he says, his accent peaking out more prominently.

Max nods and looks at their hands, they are next to each other, Charles's pinky on the C major note, Max's pinky on the B right behind it.

"He's not the only one who makes me feel things..." Charles whispers as he moves his finger imperceptibly and Max decides to do something stupid. The angles of his mouth quirk up and he caresses Charles’s finger. A spark.

“I'm going to do something very stupid, is it okay?” Max asks.

"Mhm..." Charles murmurs and he turns his head close to Max's.

Wow, those are a pair of green eyes, like the forests in Belgium.

It is all very anticlimactic. Max's heartbeat feels heavy in his eardrums, but as their lips touch everything stops. The only thing left is the ringing in his ear, but it stops too as Charles’s slender pianist hands adorn his face like a crown jewel. Max feels like the most stupid idiot on Earth. Of course Charles had to be a pianist, a romantic who loves impressionism. If their lips weren't tangling Max would beg him on his knees to play Chopin. He would gladly cry and kiss him some more. Charles moves one of his hands on the juncture of Max's neck and his brain shuts down.

The kiss is like watching the Abduction of Proserpina, with hands gripping the poetic soft flesh, conflicting feelings, standing in astonished awe. Max likes it. So he lets himself taste Charles’s lips, sweeter than honey and intoxicating as red wine. He leans into the kiss and Charles’s mouth opens, welcoming his tongue. It is something so trivial but Max swears he has never experienced such a deed or posed his hands on such a wonderful pair of hips. Charles’s thumb gently stroking his cheek, and that turns too much for Max, he can't hold himself in composure anymore, he moans in Charles’s mouth, with no intention of stopping.

But something happens in Charles’s brain, though, and Max can't feel his hands on him anymore. The Monegasque releases him. He looks Max in the eyes, green and sparkly, with a hint of gold. Max can't find an answer in that brief glimpse he catches, not in his current state. He hears Charles say a quick French curse and, differently from the kiss, Charles runs away quickly, before Max can even steady himself on the piano stool. He rests his head on the piano, a cacophony of notes play as he touches his lips with shaky fingers.

“Shit!”

-

Hope you like this babes!!! Thank you for saving me from fucking contract law i hate that shit💖

[ticenchantedtoc]

3 for the holiday fic stuff? Any characters you wanna use is fine :3

It had been Belle's idea. Something her family used to do when the roads were buried under snow and the award money never came.

In the castle, though, it was simply convenient. Belle had gathered everyone in the ballroom, which was still a mess in preparation for their usual, ostentatious Christmas gala. The tree sat empty, and the floor was littered with loose pine needles and golden glitter. Dusty boxes of ornaments and candles were piled anywhere there was room, in some method of "organization" that only made sense to Angelique. Belle made a seat for herself atop an old cedar trunk, sending another puff of dust onto the once-polished floor. She barely suppressed a giggle at the way Cogsworth's nose scrunched up.

The names were shuffled in an empty box for the garland, scraps of tinsel and evergreen tossed with them. Everyone walked out with a folded scrap of paper and the promise that someone had theirs in turn.

Everyone except Fife.

He hadn't come to the ballroom. In fact, Madame de Garderobe could not recall the last time she saw the boy at all.

"We should do something for him."

Her husband glanced up to her with a blink, as if he hadn't seen her at all. His pen had stilled so abruptly that a blot of ink bled into the page. A soft smile graced her face. "Apologies, mi amore, I did not mean to interrupt you."

In an instant, and for no discernable reason, Cadenza suddenly noticed the growing dot of ink beneath his hand. He frantically tried to smudge it out with his thumb, which only made the mess worse. His face fell into his hands. "Yes, mi stella?"

Garderobe pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket to dry the black stain now on his cheek. With a cheeky grin, she whispered, "My sincerest apologies for disrupting a genius at work."

He crumpled up the paper with a huff. "Nonsense, all I've written is nonsense!"

"I'm sure that's not true."

"How am I supposed to appeal to the prince? He has been famously been difficult all his life, and if that wasn't challenging enough, now he's a different man entirely!"

"And I'm certain the most talented composer in all of Europe can make something perfect for him."

Cadenza tossed the paper ball into a corner, the newest addition to a white, crinkly mountain of ideas that would certainly be brilliant to anyone else. But not Cadenza. Temperamental, perfectionist Cadenza with too many ideas and too little patience.

Garderobe chuckled more as she leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Now that I have your attention, I have a little request. The little flautist, we should do something for him."

"Mi amore, we barely know him!"

"But we do!" she insisted brightly. "We share an art, darling; that is more than enough!"

Cadenza shook his head. "Oh, if you insist."

So their search began. Cadenza asked as much of the staff as he could, but not even Lumiere knew a thing about the boy.

"He is— Well, you know, he keeps to himself."

"He rarely spoke to anyone but the Maestro. Quite flighty, as it were."

"He's an odd little tyke. I've tried talking to him some, but he always avoids us."

None of it sat well with the diva. Especially when she knew—or rather, had known—Maestro Forte many years ago. He had always been a bitter, reclusive man, and she could not bear to see sweet Fife become the same.

It didn't matter that she didn't know him. Madame de Garderobe had never been the type for small things. On the stage and in her behind-the-scenes life, she would love with her whole heart, sing until her throat was raw, throw herself into anything if passion swayed her so.

And suddenly, she knew what to do.

"Mi amore, what was the name of that carpenter in Villeneuve?"

"Firmin, I believe."

"Thank you, dear!"

Cadenza shook his head as she disappeared out the door, her thick skirts following a few seconds later. There was no use arguing with his wife when she set her mind to something, but that was also one of the things he loved about her.

She poked her head back into the room. "And the seamstress?"

"I don't know," he chuckled. "Why don't you ask Belle?"

"That's brilliant! Thank you, love!"

She was gone again before he could answer, and thus Cadenza remained tucked away with only his harpsichord as company. Hours slipped between the keys as he wrote and rewrote and wrote and rewrote... His hands seemed to move on their own as his mind followed the road through the forest, all but invisible beneath the snow. He thought of Garderobe in Villeneuve, shining like a Christmas star in all her jewels and silks and beauty. And above all else... her joy.

Cadenza looked back to his sheet music with a smile. He had nothing to worry about. Tomorrow, the gifts would be exchanged, and there would be laughter in the ballroom, and none of his stresses mattered because there would be joy.

[serena-hart-09]

Mc spamming teleport through the HOL vs just walking to rooms. the last straw might be racing mammon since he's the fastest brother. Lucifer probably decides to talk to them about it. Side mention to Belphie pouting when he falls asleep on mc and then just poof away. ether he wakes up with their body gone or he wakes up elsewhere.

A/N: Heyo! Thanks for requesting!💖💖💖💖💖💖

And as for the ask-

YOU ARE A GENIUS.

(I loved this request so much I-)

Anyways, I changed some things-

(I hope I did this request justice-)

Anyways, If there are any more suggestions please do tell me!😊😊😊😊

I hope you like this! 💕💕

TW: (Very Mild) Swearing.

Extra: Fluff ; Crack ; Mistakes.

Brothers X GN!MC

Here I am!

If there was a day where the Avatar of Pride needed help from the outside world (leaving MC-) it was today.

And tomorrow.

And then the day after that.

And then that week.

And then the same month….. months…

This has been going on for months.

By “this” means, the fact that MC decided to use their power of Teleportation from the day they perfected the ability.

At first, it was very endearing. Cute. Funny.

Everyone in the House of Lamentation to some degree enjoyed it.

For example, MC would easily help Satan and Belphie to prank Lucifer.  Of course, they would also escape from the eldest’s wrath due to this ability. They are also the ones to reach RAD first even before the brothers! (Much to Lucifer’s dismay-)

Again, at first, it was all cool, cute, adorable, and bearable…….

But now ……?

“MCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC”

“TRY TO CATCH ME, IF YOU CAN OLD MAN.”

The absolute chaos of voices rings out in the hallways of the House. The never-ending cat-mouse chase of MC and Lucifer was now in session with round 1 already commencing. This had now become quite a routine for the audience- I mean, for the residents of the house, as Satan and Belphie have now brought out the many cartons of pop-corn for everyone else. Mammon had actually tried to place bets on Lucifer and MC and get some quick cash but alas, as all great plans come to fail, his as well did. By being hung upside down from the chandelier and also cleaning the bathroom for a month straight.

Anyways, let us now talk about the battle itself.

Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride jumps from the corners and uses his wings to get a jump at MC. However, MC the one impossible human to deal with, teleports right behind him, “Lulu, you should focus more. Concentration is the key, dear.” They taunt and smirk as said demon looks at them with surprise which is then replaced with anger as he charges himself at him in pure fury. Even if Lucifer had thought that this would work…… he was very wrong. MC, again, teleports…… on top of him on the stairs as they stare down at him from there, looking at him with a shit-eating grin. “Luci, anger doesn’t suit you.” Saying this they shake their head in disappointment.

‘Oh, no.’ the brothers think as they look at the battle from the corner with their nearly empty cartons of popcorn.

So, now, Round 2 starts.

Lucifer doesn’t do anything and looks at them with eyes filled with an unreadable emotion.

Suddenly he turns into nothing-  

Lucifer suddenly appears behind MC!

However, MC also is now nowhere to be seen!

Where they could have gone?

Out of the blue, a sound of an ancient door opening comes from the Library.

“This Little-!”

Lucifer races to the room and finds MC on his desk waiting for him…….. with his precious Demonus in hand!

“You put that down if you value your life.” The demon spats at them.

“Or what?”

Lucifer growls in frustration, “MC for how long will it last today?”

“Ah! Here comes the life-changing talk in the middle of the fight-! Just like in that anime that I am binging-”

“Cut your trap, Levi! Can’t you see that this is the climax scene?!” Asmo whisper-scolds him.

Anyways-

“I don’t know. Maybe it will be over after this?”

“*sigh* MC…….”

“Oh come on! Don’t act like you hate this! I saw that smirk appear the second I teleported the first time!”

“…….”

“See?”

“MC-”

Before any words could fall from his lips, a soft was placed on his cheeks by none other than MC themselves.

And as usual, the audience booed and one of them was already screaming at the top of their lungs saying that MC was only allowed to kiss him on the cheeks.

Lucifer looks at their disappearing form in absolute shock. Before they come before the demon of greed to kiss him on the cheeks.

As they disappear again in the air, they look at their beloved opponent again, “I win.” They whisper with a smirk dancing on their lips.

Lucifer can only look speechless, caught completely off-guard by their action.

“…….Damn it.” He whispers as he looks out of the window to hide his flushed face.

MC-10  Lucifer-0

***********

“I AM THE FASTEST DEMON-”

“WELP TOO BAD-”

“You two do know that you will be dead if Lucifer finds out that you two broke the Red Sea Devil Vase?” Asmo says looking at them.

“What vase?”

“…….”

“…………”

“…….”

………..

“Mammon?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna start Round 5 outside?”

“……YA”

“Ok bye, see ya out!”

“OI wait!”

The Vase wouldn’t be the first victim of their shenanigans. Many things, paintings fell off the wall during Lucifer’s and MC’s daily Battles alone.  

(Please, note that none of Lucifer’s Demonus and Satan’s books or the fridge were harmed in this. However, Mammon was given a punishment for encouraging MC)

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

“MC” Belphie looks at them with a frown.

“Hm?”

“……..Look, I love you but-”

“Oh, I love you too, Belphie!”

“…..Thanks but,…. Can you tell me why are in Hell’s kitchen…….?”

“……Um…… I teleported?”

“…..I was sleeping, MC. We were supposed to cuddle for 2 more hours.”

“…..Uh……..Hey! You hungry? My treat!”

“…….but my sleep-”

“Ohhhh! They have your favorite sushi on the menu today!” they exclaim, as they suddenly found the menu card more interesting.

“………….You know, there times where I question myself, ‘how did I end up with liking you?’” he sighs as he picks up his menu card to find that yes, the premium limited edition sushi was on the menu.

“Oh shush you! You love me!”

“…..”

“…..”

“Especially for giving Luci a headache.”

“Yes-”

“Hehe…”

“but after this, you are teleporting both our asses back.”

“Oh about that.”

“….?”

“Actually, I tried to teleport back with you while you were sleeping but it didn’t happen…. Maybe it was a one-time thing? A miracle?”

“So what you mean is that…… You will teleport back to home……”

“Yes.”

“And I will have to WALK all the from here to the House….?”

“Yes……”

“………. How much do you have now?”

“…….Oh I have enough for…… probably-”

Belphie lifts his hand, “2 full-course meals and 3 premium sushi sets”

“BELPHIE?”

“What it’s your treat, you said so. Plus, Some of it is for Beel.”

“……Um I will just go to bring more money-”

“Oh no, none of that.” He says smiling at them holding their hand tightly so that they can’t teleport anymore. “After just as I love you, you love me too right?”

“…….Goddammit.”

MC-0  Belphie-1

End Notes: I hope you like this chapter!😊

Please Do Not Repost without Permission! (Reblogs are welcome!)

All the characters mentioned above belong to Shall We Date?: Obey Me!, NTT Solmare

[lolitystories]

Don't let me down 7 : Violets.

Many years ago, when Sara was a child...

“The answer to the question is…”

“B !”

Suddenly shouted a voice in the classroom.

"Yes, that's right, thank you Sara."

Said the mistress smiling at her.

Sara went back to work, very happy. If she continued to get good grades, she could go to the college she wanted after high school.

“...Tss… It’s the little nerd again, who answers…”

She heard the comment, but didn't respond.

At the end of class, she hurried to leave, on the next table was her classmate, slightly busy with her boyfriend.

“Eric, stop, everyone is watching us…”

Dana was with her boyfriend, Eric,

“Hey weirdo!”

He said, throwing his empty water bottle over her head, but she didn't turn around.

“Hey ! I'm talking to you."

“Stop… She’s going to denounce us, she’s the teachers’ little doggy…”

"Exactly…"

As soon as Sara left, Eric had a bad idea in mind, which he whispered to his girlfriend.

"We should teach her a little lesson, don't you think?"

**

"Are you sure you want to go?"

Her father asked.

"Yes ! Everyone will be there, I want to go too.

She said, overjoyed.

She put on her prettiest dress and made up, she felt pretty, happy… Ready to make friends and have fun.

His classmates had told her that they were going to have a little party, at Eric's house, everyone was invited.

They were just kids. What could go wrong ?

When she arrived, she was greeted by Dana, but everyone froze, seeing her enter. The music was cut off and the students circled around her, whispering.

"...Hello… Everybody."

They let Eric and his group pass.

"Look everybody, it's the genius of the class !"

“...”

“Tell me Sara, do you enjoy looking down on us ?”

"Eh ? No, I don’t look down on anyone…”

"Ah good ? So why do you always stay in your corner ? Do you think you have something special ? That you are better than us ?”

"No… No… I’m just… Shy…"

“I didn’t hear that well…”

“I… I…”

Sara stepped back, but the crowd prevented her from going very far.

Suddenly, she felt something cold running over her head.

"That…"

The students, began throwing paint at her face, staining her dress and her face.

"No ! Stop !”

"What ? I think it suits you quite well !”

Eric burst out laughing, and everyone did the same.

Dana and a few other students watched the scene a little further.

"...Don't you think...She's had enough ?"

“I think it goes too far…”

“And then she might tell that to our parents...”

Dana sighed and walked forward.

“...Okay, that’s it guys. It's good."

She said, stopping them.

After that, she helped her clean up in the bathroom.

“...You're not going to tell the teachers, are you? I… It wasn’t my idea.”

"I wouldn't say anything."

“...”

“I don’t want to get hit.”

“...It was just a joke, they wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“...”

**

“Hi sweetie ? How was the party ?"

"...Great."

"Really ? Did you have a water fight?”

"Yes."

“...Is this…”

"That was great mom !"

“Okay… Um, your grandma is here.”

“Great, she came to tell me again how much she hates me !?”

She said, before locking herself in her room.

At that time, she didn't know that was the last time she would speak to her.

Several years later, Dana left Eric, who was becoming too violent for her liking, to form a relationship with Gabriel. He was kind and madly in love, he did everything she wanted... But then she heard about his brother, Miguel.

“He’s a genius… And he received a scholarship to Alchemax ?”

“Yes, my brother has always had a gift, you will see, I will introduce him to you soon.”

"...I hope so."

**

Fate made her meet Sara again... And she couldn't allow her past with her to ruin her chances with Miguel.

“Sarah…”

“...”

“I'm sorry for…”

“No, it doesn’t matter, we were kids back then…”

“Yes… But that doesn’t excuse what I did to you.”

She had tears in her eyes.

“When I think back to what they did to you…”

"...It's okay... I forgive you."

“I… Would you mind if we try to be friends?”

“...”

**

Following Sara's advice, Miguel was going to try to get Dana back, but before he could even do so, he had a strange surprise at work.

“Dana ? What are you doing here ?"

“I came to visit my darling…”

“...”

“I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about Tyler.”

“Tyler ? You mean, Tyler Stone ?”

"Yes."

“But… Isn’t he a little… Old, for you ?”

She frowned.

“No, actually… He gives me everything you could never give me.”

At these words Miguel laugh.

“What’s so funny ?”

“Nothing… It’s just… I finally see what my brother meant.”

“...”

“You know… I wondered, would you even have been interested in me, if I hadn’t been approached by Alchemax.”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Was it me you loved ? Or what I owned ?”

“...”

“If I were nobody, if I had a job like any other, in a small house, if I was…”

"What ? If you were what ?...”

"Me…"

"...Honestly Miguel, you've always been... A coward, a terrible brother, a horrible son, a horrible boyfriend, but lately all I see..."

“...”

"Is a monster."

With these words, she left.

“I’ll come by and pick up the rest of my stuff.”

**

“Are you going to resign from Alchemax ?”

Gabriel asked him.

"Yes... There's nothing left for me there, with Sara we're going to take Stone down, if we collect all the evidence, it'll be over."

“...”

"Yes I know, it's a bad idea, I'm going to find myself with nothing, I couldn't even live in my old apartment anymore but..."

“No… This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“...”

“You know… For a while, I thought I had lost my brother.”

“Gabi…”

“But I’m glad to see you’re still here.”

He couldn't help but smile.

“So… Dana will probably be there tomorrow, with Stone…”

“Yes… Besides, that makes me think, I have to find a date, I don’t know with who Sara is coming.”

"It's incredible…"

Gabriel sighed.

“Yes… She quickly moved on.”

“No…I’m not talking about that.”

"What ?"

“You are a genius, maybe even one of the smartest people in the world and yet, when it comes to understanding a human being, you are truly the worst…”

“...What is that supposed to mean ?”

“First of all… You should buy some flowers.”

That same evening, there was a knock on Sara's door.

She was wearing pink pajamas with a bunny logo, her hair was tied in a bun.

“Miguel?”

He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“...”

“I just thought about the fact that I never really thanked you for what you did for me these last few months...”

“...”

“I…I was wondering, do you have a date for tomorrow ?”

“...”

Oh no, he broke her.

After a few seconds, she took the bouquet and looked at it carefully.

“Thank you very much, they are beautiful.”

A tender smile lit up her face.

“Violets?”

“They made me think of you…”

She laughed and invited him in.

“Your new costume is ready if you want to try it on.”

“Thank you and sorry for bothering you every time.”

"You do not bother me."

She went to place the flowers in a vase.

**

Meanwhile... A man was running from the police. He had just committed a terrible crime, the murder of his girlfriend and several innocent witnesses.

For some time now, his life had become hell and although he tried to regain his past glory, the world itself seemed to hate him...

After being shot, he fell, which should have been fatal. But once again, he was not given the slightest respite. Even in pain.

He dragged himself until he reached the sewers. He was definitely going to die here, without anyone worrying, not even his own parents, who abandoned him after he was kicked out of college.

Even Alchemax didn't want him anymore... They all abandoned him... His friends, his girlfriend...

Oh... All that... Everything that happened to him was because of them...

It was then that a soaked article ran along the dirty water in front of him, the title was still visible...

It talked about the Alchemax reception which would take place tomorrow and the new partner of the director of the company...

“Dana?...”

**

The evening of the reception…

...Sara didn't like these kinds of evenings, it reminded her too much of the end of year party... In the stories, the young girl who is uncomfortable in her own skin becomes pretty on the night of the ball... But only in the tales…

When she opened the door, her eyes were on the floor, not daring to meet his gaze.

She wore a white dress, the color code for the party. Light makeup and her hair straightened, with a small strand hanging in front of her eyes.

When she received no response, she timidly raised her head.

Miguel looked at her with bright eyes, a light blush starting from his neck and slowly rising to his face.

“...Hey.”

He recovered.

“Hey… You look… Very beautiful.”

“Thanks, I thought I should look a little pretty tonight.”

"No…"

“...”

“You always have been.”

Saying this, he fixed her lock of hair.

“...”

Sara's throat tightened, she looked him straight in the eyes, he looked back at her.

He timidly reached out his hand to take hers.

"Are you ready ?"

"Yes."

He took her to the car.

When they arrived at the reception, Dana was in the best seat, right next to Tyler Stone. When she saw her ex arriving at Sara's side, she stared at them, but they didn't notice her all evening.

The duo did not take their eyes off each other...

During the waltz, they took advantage of the commotion to slip away. They activated the new watch that Sara and Lyla had created and in an instant, they went from their beautiful outfits, to their hero costumes.

“I’ll start on the ground floor, you take the first floor ?”

"All right."

She was about to leave, but he took her hand.

"Be careful."

She smiles at him.

"You too."

**

“Are you sure she likes violets, Lyla?”

Miguel asked.

*Yes, it’s the least you can do, after everything she’s done for you and they’re perfect!*

"For what ?"

*Nothing… I just think it’s a very nice gift. Purple is her favorite color after all.*

But she had already done her research.

In the language of flowers, “violets” also meant “I love you secretly”.

Back to masterlist - Previous chapter - Next chapter

[jimmymcgools]

then i will go ham 🙏💖 thank you @aminta

“Do you ever get sick of Red Lobster, June?”

June turns. “Oh, huh!” She seems as if she really appreciates the question. “Well, when I was pregnant with Toby, I had such naughty cravings for their biscuits. I must’ve eaten about a hundred a week, I was always sending Josh out to buy a dozen as soon as they opened.”

due to popular demand i’ve bought the ingredients to try to make a knock-off version of these. i got the buttermilk on sale and it expires soon so watch this space. 

also i unironically love june and really enjoy shoving various traits of my own coworkers & office job into these sprinkler sections. 

She lands in Albuquerque before dawn. It feels as if she’s slinking unseen into the city, hidden from it while it hides from her. No shadows of the Sandias are visible against the horizon, no twisting Rio Grande cutting through the dry land. In the darkness, the plane wheels seem to touch down in her own stomach, a heavy landing that bumps and skids over the tarmac before settling like lead on the Earth.

an abq plane landing always feels special to me because it’s how acb starts 🥺

It’s a clean slate kind of city. Emerging from the hot dust like an iron from a forge, still hissing.

And when she lived here, she was a clean slate, too. She was level and she was making something of herself, growing and growing. She was coral snakes in the shade, eyes glittering.

these commentaries are always so self indulgent but it feels really cool to like... i dont know. i think about years ago writing a scene where kim and jimmy sit on the trunk of her car and she talks about how the desert is clean and sterile. and now here we are and that still feels right and still feels important. 

also i had ‘eyes blinking’ here for days and then genius i am i had to google whether snakes can blink or not, and i guess they can’t blink or WHATEVER they have no EYELIDS who CARES. but i changed it anyway. 

The sun climbs above them, spilling warm light over her skin, over the bare land.

i wanted it to look like morning over the sandias 😔

Kim sees the severe woman in her empty house, leaning on the back of a chair just to stay upright. “She wants—”

—a shadowed room, with light carving slices from peeling walls and metal tables. A cigarette and a lie and familiar eyes and his name in her mouth again. A time capsule and a time machine and the words come falling out—

“She wants her husband back.”

the more i work on it the more i’m struck by this post-canon era being an era of women and their lost husbands. cheryl and marie and skyler etc etc. 

so the idea of there being this like... obviously cheryl would literally like howard back in the world of the living. but jimmy never left that world for kim, yet she still got her husband back. so this thought of how someone can be lost to you in more than one way, i guess? cheryl lost howard in every way--his life was taken, and the reality of who he was as a man was taken from the world, too. 

it’s all something i hope i can explore more over the course of the story. 

Jimmy’s palms rest tentatively on her back, the faintest pressure, as if he wants to make sure she knows he’s willing to let her go again.

jimmy imagines his hands as hovering birds a couple of times in the safs cicero chapter, and i thought about it here. 

Her arms come up around him, and she presses her cheek into his shoulder. He floats his hands over her back for a moment, hovering birds, and then he finally lowers them, touching. She’s warm against him.

“Jimmy,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

just like. i don’t know. it’s the same hug. 

always the same hug. 

And the flickering bulb above them seems like it’s inside him now, a quivering light over his face, his shielding fingers. “I didn’t think you could keep coming here like this for much longer.”

“Well,” Kim murmurs, “that’s why we’re a team.” And she smiles, so slowly. “I figured out how.”

things that were genuinely a relief for ME to figure out! i didn’t want to rush kim becoming a lawyer, so. this felt nice. 

“Sometimes I was better,” he says, finally. “But I never could figure out being better all the time…”

i said this in a reply to a comment somewhere, but i feel like such a key part of jimmy’s entire character journey is like... how little he’s ever felt content in his current circumstances. 

like, even writing pre-canon stuff, i found jimmy almost always was thinking that things would be better soon, or things used to be better. even the early days of the mailroom were uncomfortable for him at the time but only became rose-coloured afterwards. 

so that’s something he’s thinking about now, now that he’s got plenty of time to think. 

And Jimmy lingers on it for a second, as if still debating whether to say it, as if holding on to this moment before he finally answers: “Skyler White.”

GIRLS LOVE A CLIFFHANGER

[angel-inked]

Silenced Fire, Chapter 1: "Wasted"

The first official chapter of my Silenced Fire fic, there will eventually a master post when but for the moment you can find chapter two (here)

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @hecatemoon87

"You're not supposed to be here" a young Forrest Bondurant, no more than 6, spoke. The intruder, who broke into the Bondurant home with more than just burglary on his mind, approached the young boy armed with a shotgun. "Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out now does it?" The man countered, swiping the gun away from Forrest. The strength difference obviously in the stranger's favor "how about I show you what a grown man does to innocent little things like you, eh?"

Forrest Bondurant flew upright in his bed, the vision of the man that stole his voice leaving him sweating profusely. "You alright?" Howard asked. Forrest looked towards his older brother, who had fallen asleep in the chair at the other side of his brother's room after drinking too much, as he was commonly known to do. Forrest shook his head. Howard frowned, he stumbled from his chair and walked over to lay down on the bed. "Don't worry, me and Jack won't let anyone touch you like that ever again" he explained, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders and gently pulled Forrest back down to a laying position. Forrest tried to relax into his big brother's hold but he flinched at a noise, the noise being his brother's snoring, Forrest rolled his eyes. staring at the ceiling, wondering if he'd fall back asleep or not

The next morning, the brother's were getting ready to open up the station for the day. "Everything okay?" Jack asked, sensing Forrest' tension. "Just another nightmare" Howard replied. Jack moved over to hug Forrest "it'll be alright, okay? Howard and I will see to that" the youngest Bondurant explained. Forrest nodded, then made his way past his brothers, behind the bar, where he lit a cigar "it's hard to talk big with a shotgun in you're mouth" he grumbled, exhaling a puff of smoke. Howard and Jack looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Forrest on the other hand, always had reasoning for what little he spoke.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, "what's a feller got to do to get a drink around here?" The first man shouted, smoothing his mustache. "Pay for it" Forrest explained, walking up to the two men. As Forrest neared, a wave of nausea and uneasiness washed over him. The second man, the one without a mustache or any hair on his head or face for that matter, grabbed his shirt collar aggressively "have you met Howard?" Was all Forrest had to say, for Howard to put both men on the ground. "You put you're hands on either of my little brothers again and I'll kill you're asses" Howard yelled. Once satisfied with his work, Howard turned back and lifted Forrest up off the floor, having been shoved by his attacker. "What's wrong Forrest?" Howard asked, concerned, he didn't like the look in his little brother's eyes. "I've got a bad feeling about these two" Forrest explained, "hull'em out" he ordered, walking away from the scene. Howard and Jack quickly got to work removing the unconscious smart mouths, but a thought lingered with them both

How bad was this feeling?

Forrest however, knew how bad it was. Pacing in his office, he racked his brain. He knew those two men from somewhere but he just couldn't place them. The only thing he was absolutely sure of was they would be back, he didn't know when or where but this wouldn't be last time the Bondurant brothers dealt with these particular folk. He griped the brass knuckles in his pocket, grimacing as cigar smoke rolled off his lips. Well now, isn't that just wonderful, he shook his head as he examined the jar of clear left on the floor by his desk chair. Left by Howard no doubt, as Forrest sat down, he knew that the half full mason jar would be empty before too long. He needed something strong and stiff to cease his racing mind and sense he didn't fancy having Howard beat his head in, shine would have to do.

A little while later, he could hear the sound of some the Bondurant's more regular bar goers downstairs, as well as Howard removing some of them after a fight broke out. Forrest was for the most part uninterested in conflict, he preferred to settle things with his words ironically, but he couldn't deny that a few punches here and there could definitely help. Sometimes conflicts were unavoidable, especially in his line of work. He shook his head in annoyance, as the fight continued between the patrons, Forrest had half a mind to walk down there and settle things himself but that would require effort. Effort that he couldn't quite seem to muster at this moment in time, "hopefully Howard don't do anything stupid.." he thought, sipping from the jar in his hand, knowing he'd probably be the one to clean up after the spat.

"What do I do..." he muttered aloud, staring a hole through his whiskey jar. This wasn't like Forrest, he usually had a plan to get the him and brothers out of whatever trouble they found themselves in, but alas his mind was blank and about as empty as anyone stupid enough to cross Howard, who he still heard yelling downstairs, was he losing his touch? He hoped not. He'd always been the obvious leader of the brother's, even when they were kids. So, why was his mind failing him? He had an idea, but wasn't sure if he wanted to be proved right. One thing Forrest did know, if he was going to sleep tonight, he was gonna need a lot more whiskey. Against his better judgment, he went down to the bar, found himself a stool and drowned his worries the best way he knew how.

What else was he supposed to do?

He also failed to notice the two pairs of eyes watching him diligently, "I'm worried about him" Jack said, breaking the silence between him and his eldest brother. "Me too" Howard frowned. Why was their brother doing this to himself? They weren't sure, but they weren't about to get into it with Forrest in front of all their customers. Having a fight with you're sibling when the place was packed was not a good look for the Bondurant business, so they watched from afar, as something seemed to be eating away at their brother, their leader, the person they looked to when they didn't know what to do or needed advice but most importantly, they loved Forrest, he was always there for both of them, now it was their turn to be their for him.

[leatherbark]

Sister Rebecca

linocut print by the author

Two guards in crisp uniforms stand together at the market entrance, stainless twelve-gauge shotguns slung low on their shoulders. Gunter, a long-time resident, passes unnoticed through the mob, headed for the Thursday rendezvous. Near used-clothing vendors, a group of expats sits at a heavy mahogany table covered with a stained, worn red cloth.

An American joins the gathering of EU citizens. French, German, Macedonian, and Italian speak English, addressing the meeting, but chat in their native tongue with fellow countrymen. A jolly gray-haired woman in Ukay Ukay* style serves them an after-breakfast beer from her dingy cafe. By mid-morning, the island’s stifling summer humidity takes a toll. Those not well acclimated to the Philippines mop rivulets of sweat from their reddened brow.

Discussion often involves contentious issues. The day’s argument erupts among the French and soon envelops the entire scene. Nobody recalls what started it all. Gunter interrupts with a summary.

“We are talking about the role of foreign missionaries living with isolated Igorot people in the mountains who still hold onto their pagan faith. One side says they should tolerate the old beliefs while the other says destroy it all. No compromise here. Looking for signs in a chicken’s innards sends a man to hell… or is it as an excusable breach of faith? Anybody have something to add?”

The American pointed his finger and scowled. “Yeah, they should leave their stuff behind and get on the next plane. If those tribes have the genius to build terraces, they should manage their own religion without interference from us.”

“The missionaries tempt them with essential goods like medicine. This gives them an edge, a position of authority. Do the villagers have a choice?” Gunter’s words express the dilemma faced by indigent communities.

The sun’s rays beat down on the weathered canopy overhead, giving little relief. Two Italians empty their brew and leave. The German continues.

“Few of us visit the Cordillera. I recall Antoine spent some time up there. How about it? You must have met these folks.” Gunter turns to the Frenchman.

Quiet, of average height and build, he seldom joins the group. He lives alone on an obscure island in a one-room frame house off the northern coast, accessible by a pump boat.

“Yes, years ago, I traveled that part of the country every summer.” He sips San Miguel from a can.

“I’m told the trip up there takes some grit. And what brought you there?”

“The inner bark of the salago bush sells in New York for a small fortune. Wealthy hobbyists use it to make Japanese paper. I read a piece about the trade, contacted suppliers, and went exploring. Despite three years’ hard work, the business failed to turn a profit. But the people. Ah, the people one meets in such places!”

“The mountains draw tourists, European backpackers, and Israelis just discharged from the military. For long-term foreign residents, you will only find missionaries. Best to stay on good terms with them if you want to succeed. For the argument at hand, Father Skanse and Sister Rebecca offer perfect examples.

“I found the Reverend at his pine log home in the forest, a ten-minute walk from town. A stout man in his mid-fifties, he sat in a rocking chair before a fireplace, draped in heavy blankets with a mild fever. The usual how and why questions came up. Once he started the narrative, I didn’t interrupt for an hour or more.

“‘We arrived twenty-two years ago from Campton, Kentucky. Had to overcome our Appalachian accent that nobody understood. A Kankana-ey** family adopted us and we continue the relationship to this day. Our daughters, born here, speak the language better than English.’”

“He tossed another log into the flames, and continued, voicing a profound respect for local culture, far beyond the limits his faith permits. True Christians can’t embrace an animist’s affinity with nature.”

“Didn’t you point out the contradictions?” The American rose to move his chair closer.

“No, and none of you would either. Expats make compromises. At home, they might think way too many, but that’s how we build a life for ourselves. Unfortunately, not all adapt, no matter how isolated. Sister Rebecca illustrates the most hardline of them all.

“A tiring three-hour walk upstream, backpack in tow, brought me to Barlig, population 236. A swinging bridge of heavy iron cables crosses the river, giving access to nearby hamlets. No roads there, or draft animals, except for a few carabao. All muscle, every man, woman, and child.

“I saw her in the chapel, one of few permanent structures thereabouts. An awkward greeting followed tense moments, a scene repeated each time we met. You couldn’t point to anything about her that lent itself to easy physical description. Not tall, thin, stout, or attractive, but strong enough to climb steep trails with the natives. Her plain, loose, ankle-length dress suited her position. Short auburn hair needed a brush.

“She gave me a tour of the village square, swatting teens along the way in a show of good-natured bantering. To adults, she gave terse instructions, all in impeccable Filipino English accent but not a word of Ifugao. Said they couldn’t understand unless she mastered their pronunciation.”

Gunter shakes his head. “Why didn’t she pick up the native tongue?”

“Sister Rebecca lived there to teach, not to learn. The language, and culture at large, she kept at arm’s length, a purposeful disregard for what she saw as pagan. In her presence, nobody dared expose a hint of the old religion. She complained, ‘They lack personal development.’

“She didn’t smile. Ever. When speaking, she gazed at an object to the right of your shoulder, a habit sure to irritate. Before dismissing her altogether, we should consider what lessons she might teach about ourselves.

“Save for our brief encounter here, we spend our days with Filipinos. Long as we behave ourselves, they allow freedom to seek our own brand of social discourse. In the early years, expat behavior puzzled us, but in time, we became one of them. Without an ever-present critical voice, we can drift into troubled water. And so it was with Sister Rebecca.

“The nun lost that last thread so necessary to conduct a civil dialogue. Outside her realm of influence, among her own kind, she held no exalted position and couldn’t browbeat her audience.”

Antoine pauses, looks at his watch, and asks for a glass of ice.

“Is she still there?

“No, she’s in a convent near Cincinnati, Ohio. She had a bad-mannered macaque that hurt children. Village elders warned her, but she refused to get rid of the animal, assuming they would relent. A yearlong battle raged. In the end, the monkey scarred a girl’s face, and they forced her to go.”

“What happened to Father Skanse?”

“He left to give the kids a chance to decide for themselves, the native life or America. You had to pity him, having to part with all he worked for, a caring community, and an exotic mountain refuge. The girls have grown up now. They come back every year. Even opened a ceramic shop for local women.”

The lunch crowd gathers around. The cafe lady collects empty cans, a cue for them to leave. Gunter stands, passes the guards, mounts a motorbike, and winds his way home. A high canopy shades the narrow dirt road.

*Ukay-Ukay - A random mismatch of cheap used clothing from the UK.

**Kankana-ey - The Kankanaey people are an indigenous peoples of the Northern Philippines, part of the collective group of indigenous people known as the Igorot people. (Wikipedia)

[amazingmaeve]

Spencer Reid fic Recs!

fics I read almost on a daily! also don’t forget to show your affection to all the fics and give them a like and comment your love. also don’t forget to check out the authors because they’ve written all these BEAUTIFULLY!

nsfw alphabet ➵ @radiant-reid

ace ➵ @gubler-me-up

summary ➵ Can I get a one shot for the episode 52 pickup with Spencer x female reader? Like with the scene specifically where Spencer is trying to hand out the flyers but none of the woman take one, but reader approaches him to take one along with his number or something? Whatever else your mind can come up with please.

talk some sense to me 2 ➵ @sinfulspencer

summary ➵ Y/N confessed to JJ that she always been in love with Spencer but he never noticed her, too busy focusing on someone else. During a case, they are all held as hostages and JJ confesses her love for him.

unbelievable but verified ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ The BAU's newest member comes prepared to join the team with a tiny crush on the man who wrote her three favorite thesis papers.

so, so sorry ➵ @mggswhorificlover

summary ➵ when spencer gets back from a long case, he needs to let out some frustrations the best way he knows how. only, he didn’t know how tough your week had been as well…

letting go ➵ @mggswhorificlover

summary ➵ when spencer comes back from prison, there’s no doubt he’s changed, especially in the bedroom. 

found ➵ @everyonesfavoritepipecleaner

summary ➵ which Spencer finds a whole lot more than a book

what plot ➵ @moon-light-jukebox

summary ➵ Reader is a new member to the team who has developed a slight crush on one of her co-workers. She also has a proclivity for reading certain kinds of books. What happens when our favorite speed reader takes a peak over her shoulder? 

a memorable hero ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Y/n jumps into the arms of a random FBI agent when she unknowingly talks to a creepy unsub.

broken paradise ➵ @skiller0dani

summary ➵ you run into an ex boyfriend during an interrogation. except it's you being interrogated, and it's your ex boyfriend doing the interrogating.

germs ➵ @moon-light-jukebox

summary ➵ Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

hotch’s daughter 2 3 ➵ @pinkcoffeecup

summary ➵ When Y/n Hotchner comes back from collage, Spencer finds himself  thinking a little too much about his bosses daughter. And despite Morgan’s attempts to talk Spencer down from pursuing the young girl, he just can’t help himself.

broken pieces ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ things have gotten bad between Y/N and Spencer so much where she’s seeing a therapist and it doesn’t get much better after she speaks to him.

just my type ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ A pretty girl in a bar mistakes Spencer for someone else. Luckily, he's just her type and she's very impressed by his facts.

houston, we do not have a problem ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Doctor Y/n Reid's call with NASA takes a different turn when Spencer decides to have some fun with her. Based on this request

and I’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) ➵ @samuel-de-champagne-problems

summary ➵ Spencer and Reader are forced to share a room, but can't resist falling into old patterns, even though it's dangerous and just might break them.

old prison blues ➵ @skiller0dani

summary ➵ when your husband Spencer gets released from Prison, he's much different then you remember.

the perils of eavesdropping ➵ @moon-light-jukebox

summary ➵ Reader is the newest member of the BAU and she is fascinated by a member that was just released from prison. Dr. Spencer Reid keeps her at a distance...but why? One day reader overhears something that hurts her feelings. Knowing what she knows now...what is she supposed to do?

this vast empty space ➵ @literaila

summary ➵ I’ve had this idea floating in my head after watching some One Tree Hill and Criminal Minds one day👀 what if the reader and Spencer have a child together but things are getting a little rocky with reader and Spence and they’re arguing so Spencer spends a lot of time at JJ’s with his child and JJ’s kids and one day the reader doesn’t let her child do something so they get mad and say they wish JJ was their mom🥺 but somehow a fluffy ending? Idk🗿 

flick, flick, burn ➵ @literaila

summary ➵ Can i request a fic where the reader and spencer are dating and the reader believes that spencer if in love with jj so she distances herself from him??? and garcia finds out and reassures her?? sorry if this doesn’t make sense but thank u if you do decide to write it!😊

the sleep chronicles ➵ @reidsacademia

summary ➵ Three times Spencer needed sleep.

purple dress ➵ @foxy-eva

summary ➵ Spencer and his coworker Fem!Reader have a friends-with-benefits agreement. When he tries to end it, she shows him what he is missing out by putting on an alluring purple dress in an attempt to seduce him.

swooping in ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Spencer accidentally, unknowingly takes the girl Morgan's trying to get to go home with him

confidential information ➵ @gubler-me-up

summary ➵ Can I have a doc with maybe Spencer season 1-2, where the team thinks he’s a virgin and doesn’t have a girlfriend but then they find out he does.

a gamble of feelings ➵ @reidslibrarybook

summary ➵ A tipsy night playing poker leads to an unexpected revealing of well-kept secrets.

smells fishy ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Out of place perfume and cologne give away a secret relationship of the BAU.

perfect shade ➵ @boldlyvoid

summary ➵ After prison, the bureau's concerned for Spencer's mental well-being... so they assign him a Personal Assistant who takes the job of making sure he's "settling in" too seriously.

space ➵ @literaila

summary ➵ who knows overhearing a conversation between your boyfriend and friend could lead to miscommunication with things.

the public eye 2 ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Spencer gets closer to a famous actress, discovering they're incredibly similar and she really likes him

tranquillement ➵ @spencerreidat3am

summary ➵ Spencer's first night home from prison is complicated

the only way home ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ Mad at her boyfriend, Y/n has a little too much to drink and Spencer takes her home.

let me love you ➵ @sinfulspencer

summary ➵ Spencer takes care of his girlfriend after a bad day at work.

rough patch ➵ @leahblackk

summary ➵ A rough patch could break your heart, and break your lover’s too.

mine ➵ @boldlyvoid

summary ➵ all she needs to do is give a witness statement at the station, she ends up taking care of the sweet agent who put his life on the line to avenge her sister.

stork song ➵ @imagining-in-the-margins

summary ➵ Spencer and reader decide to get pregnant after suffering a miscarriage. It can be angsty, fluffy, smutty. I'd just love to read it.

we’re pregnant ➵ @dr-spencer-reids-queen

summary ➵ When you start showing symptoms of being sick, Spencer goes out of his mind to take care of you. When those symptoms turn to something else, he doesn’t know how to react.

it’s only you ➵ @patheticdarling

summary ➵ The aftermath of the Date Night (S15E6/No Max, just Reader). Reader is feeling really insecure about her and Spencer’s relationship after the heated kiss between Cat and him so Spencer goes the extra mile to reassure her just how much he loves her. 

tis the dam season ➵ @reidsacademia

summary ➵ The one where you go home for the holidays and meet up with your long distance booty call.

the statistical probability of falling in love ➵ @reidscanehand

summary ➵ Spencer Reid is doubtful of the statistical probability of falling in love until he meets the BAU’s new communications liaison, Y/N. Thus begins a relationship and a story of healing, growing, and finally finding the statistical probability of finding a happy ending. 

seeking comfort ➵ @gubler-me-up

summary ➵ hi! not if you've done this already but can i get one where spencer lays in between the reader's legs?? you can choose between him eating the reader out or just falling asleep there or something idk

who’s your daddy 2 3 4 5 ➵ @gubler-me-up

summary ➵ Can I request one where the reader is like Hotch’s daughter and her and Spencer hook up but he doesn’t know until she walks in one day looking for her dad.

secrets and onesies ➵ @wheelsup

summary ➵ which spencer is hiding two secrets from you. one, that he knows you’re pregnant, and two, that he’s more than ready for it.

a fairytale in vegas ➵ @writer-in-theory

summary ➵ co-workers reader and spencer were relieved to get some time away from each other over the holidays, so they're in for a surprise when their mothers let them know they'll all be spending christmas together.

the girl in the bar ➵ @radiant-reid

summary ➵ None of the team can understand why Y/n isn't into Morgan or Emily so they're shocked when she kisses Spencer

all you need ➵ @reidslibrarybook

summary ➵ You’ve been hiding your feelings from him, pushing him away and shutting him out ever since you found out about your odds of having a baby. There had to be some way he could let himself in, some way for the both of you to come to terms with what’s become.

red vault ➵ @writer-in-theory 

summary ➵ red (taylor's version) is being released on november 12th, and i have never been so excited. this album meant so much to me when it was first released and i want to do something fun to celebrate it now. soo i'm going to do a countdown to the release day and post a new fic for each song on the original album. most won't be connected to each other. this will officially start on october 25th.

Til death do us part ii ➵ @sortagaysortahigh

summary ➵ Spencer Reid’s found in Mexico, accused of murder, drug possession, and the intent to distribute. His wife and FBI Agent-Nefeli Thalia Reid-goes through different stages of grief while the team works to get him back to the States. 

how you get the girl ➵ @mischiefmanaged71

summary ➵ Spencer is stumped by his work crush and finding a way to ask her out so he enlists the help of the team.

extra credit ➵ @lyrelyretheresmeninthathorse

summary ➵ Reader visits Spencer at his office and inadvertently discovers that some of his students are interested in more than his seminars.

the story of us ➵ @boldlyvoid

summary ➵ Stories you already know, with a twist.

[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

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[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Doctor’s Orders [M](Just Friends January)

Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x female reader

Genre: romance / fluff / friends to lovers / doctor au

Warnings: medical terms and mention of a small procedure, talk about masturbation, suggestive with smut scene that fades to black, mention of the current pandemic

Author’s Notes: this was also known as Surrender during production. 

Word count: 5431

Nothing Mundane | Do It | Waiting For You | Doctor’s Orders

Looking around the waiting room, you attempted to settle your nerves by people watching. There was a lot of activity, given you were in a hospital. People old and young entered through the department’s front doors, busily making their way to their own appointments or to visit loved ones.

You gripped your shaky hands more tightly together in your lap.

“Sorry, if you don’t have a vaccine pass, I can’t let your wife in today,” said a nurse, and you turned to the elderly couple who were trying to check into your waiting area. The nurse’s smile was polite yet strained. “You’re a patient Mr Omar, so you’re able to stay, but if your support person doesn’t have a—”

“But she’s my wife,” Mr Omar cut in, his hand that clasped the little woman at his side shaking as he gripped her tighter, as if some invisible force would pull them apart. “I’m not going to make her leave.”

“Could she wait out in the car?” the nurse offered, and Mr Omar shook his head firmly. “I’m sorry, it’s the new government rules that—”

“I won’t attend my appointment then. Let’s go, Lucille,” Mr Omar announced, tugging his wife away from the reception and the stunned nurse.

You knew you should be concerned that he was forgoing a procedure. The nurse was only sticking to current admittance protocols too. But the way the old man looked at his wife and refused to be apart from her for any more than he would have been required made your heart thump faster. It was a ridiculous notion, as you should have only felt the frustration of the elderly couple being let down by the people around them by not helping them get the pass they needed to show when entering buildings now that the pandemic was increasing. So many who didn’t have family or friends looking out for them were not quite aware of how to get such passes when they didn’t rely on the digital age as the rest of society did. And you were frustrated, but the way your chest felt tight, and your eyes watched the little old couple depart towards the exit, sharing looks and small nods at one another, you realised the romantic in you was touched by his refusal, even if it was logically foolish. If he needed treatment, he’d have to go back on the waiting list, and with how things ran in the hospital right now, you knew that could perhaps be months away.

They had almost made it to the door when a doctor stepped towards them. You sat up, unable to hear the conversation, but you were smiling behind your mask, your lips spreading further into a grin when the couple turned around. Whatever the doctor had said worked, and Mr Omar was back at the counter after helping his wife onto a bench across the department and checking in to his appointment. You waited a moment, leaning towards the man who took the empty chair beside you.

“What did you say?”

Even behind his mask, you could see the smile in his eyes. Junmyeon shrugged. “I told him that his wife could sit on that chair over there because it’s not technically part of this waiting area.”

“Doctor Kim, are you possibly a genius?” you wondered, and you could tell he liked the praise by the way his chest puffed out a little.

“Maybe I couldn’t bear to see a little couple separated like that. I overheard his wife scolding him for being a fool when he’d already waited this long to be seen.”

“Ah, so there is a soft side to the almighty Kim Junmyeon after all,” you teased, watching him deflate and roll his eyes.

“Should I leave?”

Reaching out for his hand instantly, you sighed at how warm he felt against your cool skin. “No. Don’t.”

“I’m more of a softie than you give me credit for, Y/N. I had to arrange with Doctor Langley to take over my morning patients to be here for you. You know how much I hate talking to that witch for anything, let alone a favour.”

“I’m forever in your debt. Whatever should I do to show my gratitude?”

“Take my rostered shift on Saturday night. I haven’t had a date in over a year, and I’m never going to find my own little wife like that if I’m always working,” Junmyeon said, and you laughed, knowing that after today, you wouldn’t be coming back to the hospital for some time.

“You chose to be a doctor. You should have realised it’s not really like Grey’s Anatomy within a hospital. It’s just a whole lot of long shifts and no time for anything but sleep and food when you’re not on the clock.”

“If only my best friend wasn’t so needy for my time so often, maybe I could date more,” he muttered, though it was only in jest. You nudged him playfully before looking at the clock again. His tone turned solemn. “What’s a badass doctor like yourself doing looking so worried, hm?”

Curling your injured hand into yourself, you smiled weakly, thankful your mask hid your face. Still, Junmyeon had known you for almost two decades now. He could read your emotions with one look. Placing his other warm hand over yours, he patted you fondly. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll have this procedure done and rest your hand for a bit and be back to work in no time, Y/N.”

“What if I’m not? What if I’m stuck on clinic days and reports for the rest of my career?”

The injury to your wrist had taken you off the surgical roster as soon as you showed signs of fatigue. You agreed with the decision, knowing the last thing patients and their family members needed was a doctor doing less than a precise job. Your hand had shaken far too much in the operating room the last time, and you were still mortified from the senior surgeon sending you out. Thankfully, there was still a lot you could do as a doctor, but you had lived and breathed as a surgeon for years now. You were good at fixing patients and had the steadiest hand anyone had seen in this hospital.

Had.

“You and I both know you won’t rest until you’re back in the OR, Y/N,” Junmyeon reminded you with a sigh. “But it might take some time, that’s all. And whilst you’re not on the surgical team, at least you get more time with me.”

“Weren’t you just complaining that I, as your best friend, take up too much of your precious time?”

“At least with you, I don’t get rejected for being too busy or boring,” he admitted, and you turned to your friend, shaking your head softly.

Junmyeon was the ultimate catch, even you could admit so. Whilst you knew too much about him to ever have gone there, you could appreciate he had everything going for him. He was handsome, capable, kind, and could offer anyone a good life at his side. You’d stuck by him this long because of all that. He was the best person in your life, and you couldn’t wait for him to find someone to love and appreciate him as he wanted. You had often envisioned what life would be like when you were both married, had kids, and would meet up with your families for vacations and special occasions. You knew Junmyeon would always be the rock in your life.

Blinking back your emotions, you rested your head on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming down today.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no place I need to be but here.”

You had no sense of where the day had gone. When you opened your eyes next, you were in your bed, and one glance out your bedroom windows showed it was now nighttime. How did you get back here?

You heard sounds coming from the living area and smiled softly. Junmyeon.

Being careful with your hand that was heavily bandaged, you eased yourself out from under the covers and padded tiredly into your living room, finding Junmyeon in the kitchen preparing dinner. He glanced up at your arrival and examined you from head to toe. “How are you doing?”

“Did you bring me home?”

He chuckled. “You haven’t had sedation much before, have you? I had to carry you out to my car and bring you home because you didn’t wake up as easily as everyone expected.”

“Oh God. Now everyone’s going to gossip about that when I return to work,” you groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face and hissing at the pull of your surgical site. You looked at it and then back at Junmyeon. “Did everything go okay? I don’t remember a thing.”

“Probably best that you don’t,” he replied quietly before nodding. “They managed to decompress the nerves and believe you’ll heal relatively well. It’s still going to be a slow recovery, so no using that hand for the next week.”

“Are those doctor’s orders?” you asked, coming around the kitchen island to his side to inhale the smell of dinner. “This looks delicious.”

Junmyeon grinned. “You better listen to me. I’m a qualified doctor. What I say goes.”

“Huh. I didn’t know you were qualified to do anything but be a pain in my ass.”

“Right, that’s it, I’m going,” he announced with mock annoyance. “After carrying you everywhere today—”

“Are you insisting those muscles you work on at the gym each day can’t handle my weight?”

“Where’s my thank you?” he prompted, and you rolled your eyes, stepping up onto your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Junmyeon nodded and went back to tending the food. “That’s more like it.”

You were contemplative for a few minutes before blowing out a heavy exhale. “You know, I’ve never been jealous of my sister and her marriage. I couldn’t fathom getting married at the age she did.”

Junmyeon arched an eyebrow. “Whatever was taking up your time when you were twenty-three?”

“Don’t remind me of med school hell, Myeon! I like that now I at least shower every day and eat more than ramen over textbooks.”

“It helps your sister never aspired to be a surgeon, Y/N.”

“No, and I’m not dismissing her life choices either. But being as independent as I am has come and bit me in the ass, hasn’t it? I don’t have anyone in my world that I can rely on when I’m unwell or injured.”

Junmyeon huffed indignantly. “What am I then? Was I not the one who made sure you ate when you were down with strep throat last year? And you were the one who temporarily moved in with me and helped me when my back went out too.”

“You know what I mean,” you said after giving him a pointed look. “My sister has a husband. A partner. A person she lives with and raises her children with. We’re both in our thirties, and sure, we have the accolades, but do we have the rest of it?”

“Why do you think I want Saturday night off? My Mum organised me another blind date.”

You laughed. “Remember your last one?”

“Please don’t remind me of that one,” he whined as he dished up dinner. Carrying the plates over to your dining table, you frowned when he placed the meals adjacent from the other instead of across the table like usual. He gave you a smirk. “In case you need me to feed you too.”

“I hate you,” you breathed out, picking up your fork in your non-dominant hand and proceeding to eat. After a couple of mouthfuls, you returned to the dating topic. “So, you have a good feeling about this one?”

“She sounds really interesting. And her father is a doctor, so maybe she’ll come equipped with an understanding of my lifestyle.”

You nodded. “I hope it goes well for you. If you need an SOS, I’ll be home all night long.”

“You better be. That hand of yours needs complete rest.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you said sardonically, shaking your head. “Here I thought you’d need a wingman. Double dates are fun.”

“And who will you find at such short notice?”

“Don’t act as if I’m not capable of wooing men,” you responded, and Junmyeon chuckled again. You shrugged. “You’re right. I’ll sit this one out. Come to me if it ends up being a dead end, and I’ll cheer you up.”

Junmyeon grinned. “Deal. You better have our favourite movie and snacks on the ready.”

Opening your front door, you cocked your head to the side. “Really? It’s not even eight.”

Stepping into your home, Junmyeon shrugged off his coat and shoes and loosened off a couple of buttons on his shirt before turning back to you. “Wine?”

“That bad?” you enquired with a nod in the direction to your wine fridge. Junmyeon worked his way around your kitchen, bringing a bottle and two glasses over to the couch where you had popcorn, m&m’s and Netflix pulled up.

“She bought her dog to dinner.”

“You love dogs,” you replied as Junmyeon threw himself down on the couch beside you after placing down what he held and rolled his head in your direction. “What?”

“It wasn’t a dog-friendly restaurant, Y/N. And she insisted they bring over an extra chair for the little gremlin. She even ordered a meal for the dog. Can you believe it? I bought steak for a Pomeranian!”

Stifling your laughter, you leaned forward for some m&m’s and pushed them into his mouth. “You need some sweetness to get rid of that bitterness, Doctor Kim.”

“Doctor’s orders?” he asked, and you nodded firmly. “I’m going to drink all this wine. That’s how I feel right now.”

“No, you won’t because I want some too. Start pouring.”

After settling into the movie and a full glass of wine later, Junmyeon sighed heavily. “You know the other day when you talked about being too independent?”

“Mm?”

“Maybe we both have messed up. I thought I’d be married by now.”

“You’re thirty-seven, Myeon. Not ancient. You still have plenty of marrying years ahead of you.”

He swivelled towards you, the movie now forgotten. “Yeah, but don’t you find yourself lonely?”

“Not right now,” you answered and hissed when he shunted you. “Be careful of the injured, Myeon!”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, I get lonely. I was the one who pointed out the other day that I feel like I’m missing some things in my life. You fulfil mostly everything, though.”

“Mostly?”

“My other best friend is battery operated and helps with the rest,” you replied, and Junmyeon choked on the wine he had been inhaling. You cackled at his bewildered expression. “What? I could use my hand like you do too, but he’s nicer.”

“I cannot believe you just said that.”

“We never hold back from each other. Please don’t tell me you had some image of me being a celibate, born-again virgin or something.”

Junmyeon coughed loudly, placing down his wine glass. “For your information, no. I don’t think of you like that. Clearly, you have if you think about my hand, and uh—”

“No,” you cut in, shaking your head. “I’ve never thought of you like that before. But we’re humans with needs. You can’t tell me you don’t use your hand.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And I use a vibrator. Big deal,” you answered with a nonchalant shrug.

“Do you think that will change for us any time soon?” he wondered, and you glanced at Junmyeon. “I don’t want to be best friends with my hand, as you so graciously put it.”

“Thought you were getting your itches scratched by that nurse? What’s her name?”

Junmyeon scrunched his face up. “Danielle? She was alright at first but started to cross boundaries when she’d bring me lunch and leave little notes asking how my day was. I didn’t want to lead her on that it could be more than just a hookup.”

“Poor Danielle must be so broken-hearted,” you lamented jokingly before smirking at Junmyeon. “So, what’s stopping you from going onto another faculty member, Doctor McHottie?”

“Please don’t ever call me that again,” he pleaded with a groan. “You pointed out we don’t work on a TV show, so let’s keep it to that. Besides, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Who’s scratching your itches?” he questioned, and you sat up, hiking a thumb over your shoulder.

“Do you want to meet him? He’s a little shy, so he hides in my nightstand table. I’ll go—”

Laughing, Junmyeon encircled your waist with his arms and pulled you back down into him, your body nestling into his comfortably. Junmyeon ran his thumb in a circular motion over your side until you sighed with content. “You know, it’s a shame you can’t scratch my itches, Myeon.”

“You that desperate to say goodbye to your other best friend?”

“Not really,” you answered with a yawn, nuzzling his shoulder until you found the perfect spot for your head. “But you do everything else with me. It’s a shame we’ve never been romantically inclined with the other. It would solve our issues, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah. I guess it would.”

You woke up wrapped up in a warm body, your lips spreading out into a sleepy smile as you turned into the bicep that had made for a fantastic pillow alternative and pressed a kiss into Junmyeon’s smooth skin. His body heat was one of the things you missed the most when he didn’t stay with you. Even with all your partners over the years, you hadn’t yet come across someone who could keep you as warm and comfortable all night as your best friend did.

“Don’t tempt me with those lips of yours,” a groggy voice insisted somewhere above you, and you shifted a little, kissing another part of his skin, the side of his pec that was showing out of the singlet he’d worn to bed with you. “Ugh, Y/N!”

“What? It’s not the first time I’ve kissed you awake,” you reminded, feeling the arm over your waist curling around your hip. You laughed when your backside grazed against Junmyeon’s morning wood. “Oooh, does my other best friend have some stiff competition this morning?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“How you can come up with such big words first thing always surprises me, Doctor Kim. Anyway, thank you for your service of keeping me warm all night. Now get up and go off to the gym before you don’t.”

“You coming too?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been because of my hand being so sore, but I miss it. Should I spend an hour on the treadmill whilst you do— is it arm day today?”

You rolled around to face him. Junmyeon smiled at you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Back day.”

“Well, I suppose my hand can’t be irritated if I just do a cardio session, right?”

“I’ll keep an eye on you. Any signs of pain, and I’ll bring you back here.”

“You’re too good for me, Myeon.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Rude!” you cried, elbowing him. He grunted before hauling you both out of bed. You squeaked and waited for him to deposit you in your bathroom.

“I’ll just go down to mine and then meet you at the gym?” You nodded, and Junmyeon pulled on the clothing he’d discarded last night and slipped out of your apartment.

You managed to get yourself refreshed enough and changed into your gym attire before heading into the elevator, smiling when it stopped two floors below yours. Junmyeon stepped in, and you laughed. “I thought you were meeting me at the gym.”

“I had to fend off my mother. She called to ask how last night went.”

“Did you tell her you weren’t ready to become a Daddy?”

Junmyeon’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “God, I’ve known you for years, and you still throw me off.”

“To her dog, you idiot,” you answered with a hearty laugh, nudging him when the doors to the elevator opened into the apartment’s gym complex.

You each slipped into your own parts of the gym, you towards the stair climber, and Junmyeon to the weight machines. After some time on a stationary bike and an elliptical, you found yourself side by side with Junmyeon on the treadmills to cool down. As you jogged leisurely, you looked over at Junmyeon’s sweaty appearance and then wiped the back of your forearm over your perspiring forehead. “We didn’t think this one through.”

“Huh?”

“Me exercising.”

“It’s been days, I’m sure you’re enjoying the burn,” he breathlessly answered, running faster than you were currently.

“Yes, but I’m all sweaty and gross now.”

“So am I.”

“I’m unable to shower properly at the moment. Didn’t you see how greasy my hair is from my mediocre attempts with all this bandaging? Even with a bag over my hand, I can’t clean myself up well.”

“Your bandaging is probably sweaty too. Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up.”

“Will you wash my hair for me too?”

Junmyeon hit the red button on the treadmill and came to an unsteady halt. “What?”

“It feels gross, Myeon. This is where a partner would come in handy. Even my other best friend—”

“I’m getting far too curious about a godforsaken sex toy for my own sanity,” he muttered as you slowed to a stop, grinning at him in bemusement. Junmyeon wiped his face down with his sweat towel and shook his head. “Fine. Yes, I’ll wash your damn hair, so you’ll shut up.”

“So, we’re showering together now too?” you wondered, and Junmyeon gave you a dark look. “How else do you plan to help me?”

“I’m getting you out of here before any of these other men hear you and take your offer someplace sinful.”

“I wouldn’t complain about that,” you replied, glancing around to spot someone who took your attention. Junmyeon grabbed your things and started to stalk towards the exit. You trotted along behind him, giggling at the rigid posture Junmyeon held all the way back up to your apartment.

Once you were both in the bathroom, you slowly eased out of your clothes, though you got stuck in your sports bra that was more challenging to get off with one hand than it was to get on.

“Keep it on,” Junmyeon announced, and you glanced at the man now standing just in his boxer briefs. “I’m not getting in a shower with you naked.”

“You’ve seen it before.”

“Yes, but today you’re asking me to help you out. I might be your best friend who doesn’t think of you that way, but I am also a man, and I’m going to be touching you. Forgive me for knowing I’m not a saint and don’t need any encouragement for physical reactions to occur.”

You finished attaching a plastic bag around your injured hand. “A head massage when you wash my hair and a potential undoing. This shower sounds delightful.”

“Why you don’t have any female best friends to rely on instead,” he muttered as he turned on the shower, corralling you into it and shutting the door soon after.

It was entirely platonic, to begin with. Junmyeon washed your hair, and aside from the reproachful look he gave you when you let out a moan at his fingers against your scalp – which couldn’t be helped when it felt so heavenly – you each managed to get yourselves as clean as possible.

“Let me get your back for you too,” you offered after Junmyeon had soaped yours up, your hand reaching out to take the loofah he held. He handed it to you, and you spun around, your back to the sprays whilst you scrubbed soap over Junmyeon’s muscles. He groaned, and you smirked. “Now, now, no sexual noises, just like you told me.”

“That feels good, though,” he told you hoarsely, and you chewed on your bottom lip, putting more effort into it. You liked making him squirm, and for once, Junmyeon was rendered at the mercy of your circular motions. He placed his head on the glass door, and you noticed his breathing change.

Pressing in closer to him, you stood on your toes to reach his ear. “Are you perhaps getting turned on right now?”

“Y/N,” he breathed out, and you glanced down to the front of his boxers, surprised to see that he was hardening.

“Shit. You are too. Kim Junmyeon! Who knew your erogenous spot was your back?” you teased as he shook his head.

“Stop.”

“Teasing you or turning you on?” you asked, and he spun around suddenly, your balance knocked off as you backed out of his way.

This was something new. The way he looked at you now was something he’d never done, and you could see there was a level of incredulity in his expression as he realised the same thing. His heated gaze dragged down your body, and you felt goosebumps chill your skin despite the heat of the water raining down over you both. He got hooked on your chest for a moment, shaking his head.

“We shouldn’t.”

“We’re better as friends.”

“Surrendering to lust would be stupid of us,” he continued, despite stepping closer.

Your heart thumped noisily in your chest, your body arching towards him instinctively. “We could try just one time. Just a taste.”

“Scratch an itch,” he agreed, and you nodded, gasping at how sensitive you were when his arms slid around your middle, pulling you flush against him.

Junmyeon groaned, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “This is reckless.”

“Do you want it?” you whispered, and he lifted his head to gaze at you, water beading on his lashes as he blinked slowly.

You didn’t know who moved faster. Lips crashed against each other as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands reaching to cup your thighs and pull you up so he could press you into the wall. It was fast and desperate, your good hand gripping the back of his head as he coveted your mouth and mind. Tongues met and battled for dominance, and your wanton moan was swallowed by him.

Pulling back for air, you both stared at one another again. Junmyeon’s hand roamed your face until it cupped your jaw. “More?”

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Not in here,” he told you, hitting off the lever for the water and then carrying you out. Settling you down on the bathroom countertop, Junmyeon gestured for you to lift your arms, and you obeyed, allowing him to remove your sports bra. He took off your panties next and then removed his underwear, his eyes not leaving yours.

“You know, I’ve never thought of you like this,” he admitted, finally letting his heated stare travel your nakedness.

You felt emboldened by his gaze, delighting in your own perusal of his body. God, he was gorgeous. Especially right where he ached for you. Clamping your legs together in need, you were overwhelmed by the level of desire you had for him right now. Your brain was echoing his sentiment. You had never given him any sort of sexual thought. So many of your colleagues had teased you about being like a married couple, and you had always joked back that one day he’d put a ring on your finger, but that had been all that it was. Fun banter between you and your best friend.

Now, you wondered if you had wasted far too long not getting to know Junmyeon’s body.

“I’m not going to last long if you keep looking at me like that,” he told you, and without waiting for a reply, he scooped you up, carrying you into your bedroom, kicking the door firmly shut.

Spent, after what was the best sex of your life, you rolled to look at your best friend and the sated expression on his face. You grinned. “You liked that.”

“Y/N, I think I more than liked it.”

“The third time was most enlightening,” you confessed, and Junmyeon chuckled.

“I still can’t believe what we’ve done.”

“Any regrets?” you wondered, hoping he had none. You sure didn’t. You wanted to worship his body every day for the rest of your life.

You stilled with that thought, and Junmyeon seemed to read where you had gone. “I have one regret.”

“One?”

He nodded. “Taking this long to taste you.”

“Okay, I can agree with that,” you replied, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. “But what does this mean for us now?”

“You’ve always thought of us as best friends forever,” he started, and you nodded. “We’ve always held the same picture, Y/N. Finding love, getting married, living nearby, vacationing as two families. I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Same,” you whispered, sitting up a little. Junmyeon’s eyes fell to your exposed body before dragging them back up to your face. “But now, I’m not so sure if I wouldn’t get jealous of your future wife getting to have all of this.”

“My body made you that love drunk, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Arrogance doesn’t suit you.”

“Maybe we can still have the same dream.”

“Really? Tell me you wouldn’t get jealous of another man bedding me.” Junmyeon’s eyes flashed with something dark, and you cocked your head to the side. “See, you can’t. Maybe we shouldn’t have given in to those feelings back in the shower.”

“You want all those things I mentioned. Why not have them with me?”

You stared at him, dumbstruck. “Wh-What?”

“We both already do everything for the other. We live in the same apartment complex because we wanted to be close to each other. We’ve shared the same bed so many times I’ve forgotten what it feels like to wake up with another woman in my arms other than you. We know we can live together with ease. And I’ve always loved you. You’re the best person in my world. What I’m realising now, after what we’ve just done, is that I found the missing puzzle piece. I didn’t need to meet another woman to do the things you couldn’t for me. I just needed to give in to the moment and find them with you.”

“What you’re suggesting will change everything about us,” you told him quietly, though your mind was accepting all he said with far more ease than you had even considered before. “We won’t just be best friends anymore.”

“Yes, we will. The kind of best friend I want forever. I’m not asking you to marry me right now, Y/N. But after what we did, you can’t tell me that was just scratching an itch. That was… we…”

“We made love,” you finished for him, and Junmyeon nodded. “I love you too, Myeon. I just— what if it doesn’t work out? I can’t lose you.”

“Where would I go? How can this not work out?”

“How are you so sure about this?”

Tugging you so you were over him again, he placed your good hand over his heart and stretched up to kiss your lips. It was slower than all the others had been, but it was the kiss that broke all your barriers away, sweeping you out into his sea. You surrendered to the waves of emotions that kiss contained. As his mouth moved against yours, you could only think of one thing.

How right it felt to be in his arms and feeling his love against your lips.

When Junmyeon finally pulled back, he smiled up at you. “Did you feel my heart through all of that?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s how I know. Because I’ve never felt like this about anyone else. Maybe we both knew all along that things never worked out with others because it wasn’t us. The people we’ve seen in the past don’t come close to how I feel for you. And I can’t imagine anyone else but you.”

“I want to say that’s the sex haze talking,” you replied with a smile, leaning in to kiss him briefly before you shook your head. “But I can’t imagine anyone else either now. You’re it for me.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded, moving so you could curl up against him. Your best friend. Your heart. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Well, I can’t go against what you prescribe for me, now can I?”

_________________

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[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

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please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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