#I actually live in Budapest

[brunetterightsactivist]

Also don’t tell the letterboxd girls but sometimes I fall asleep during a movie but I still log it. Like idc I WAS watching it and that’s what matters. I got the vibes

[luftbiene]

Some short clips of the boats Budapest night 2. Looks like Till pulled Richard in for a hug at the end :)

[ghost-of-you]

Thinking about him today....

[whoreishghost]

hate that every life decision i make has to be one of practicality and logistics i cant just Do Something For Fun like other people in the like major life decision way

[alasy]

experiencing fall and winter would actually cure me right now

[just-aake]

Who Would Sit at Your Grave the Longest?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Who would ever mourn the life of a trained spy and assassin?

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence, mention of death, scenes from Marvel movies, multiple time skips

Words: 11,010

Red Room, Unknown — 2002

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

It was a strange question, posed by one of the girls in the Red Room. The answers from the others are what one would expect – mom, dad, siblings, friends. 

People they remembered from their lives before. 

People who loved them.

With so many choices, it was difficult for some to decide who would fill that position.

Natasha, however, didn’t need any time to consider her answer.

She raises the gun in her hand and fires multiple shots at the practice target, each one hitting a fatal area. After the last bullet, she removes the empty magazine with practiced ease, reloads the gun, and aims at the target once again.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

Her grip wavers slightly at the thought, but Natasha takes a short, steadying breath before steeling herself. 

Consecutive shots ring out in the room, hitting the target with perfect precision and demonstrating why she is one of the most feared assassins in the world.

For Natasha, the answer was clear.

“No one.” 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Abandoned Building, Budapest - 2003

With a tired sigh, Natasha leans her head against the wall of the abandoned building. She lifts her hand from her side, grimacing at the sight of blood covering her palm.

With a slight wince, she presses it against the wound again and glances at the person sitting across from her. 

His head hangs limply against his chest, his own hand pressing against a wound on his stomach. If not for his shallow breathing, Natasha would have thought he was already dead.

Taking a deep breath, she nudges him with her boot. “Hey, Barton, you still with me?”

He stirs slightly at her words, becoming more alert, and chuckles softly. “I knew you had a heart, Romanoff.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment, turning her gaze to the distance, searching for any sign of backup from his organization. 

Clint Barton had been the first to see something different in her—something better—and had offered her a way out of her previous life. 

Now, the one person who might actually care about her existence was dying right in front of her.

A coughing fit seizes Clint at that moment, and a trickle of blood escapes his lips.

“If your people don’t arrive here soon—”

Before she could finish, the sound of an engine fills the air as a quinjet lands nearby, kicking up a whirl of dust. 

Spotting the SHIELD logo, Natasha quickly stands, grunting as she pulls Clint up and slings his arm over her shoulder, dragging him toward the plane.

“Over here!” she shouts to the disembarking crew.

The agents at the front eye her warily, cautiously raising their weapons until they recognize Barton and realize his condition. They quickly rushed to help, taking her place and carrying him onto the quinjet.

Natasha shuffles forward slowly, keeping a close eye on them to ensure they’re handling him carefully.

Suddenly, a hand brushes her side, startling her. Instinctively, she grips the wrist and yanks it away, only to find herself locking eyes with you, surprise evident on your face.

Her glare is sharp, a silent warning, but you furrow your brows and pull your hand free, undeterred by her reaction. 

“You’re injured too,” you point out, trying to examine the wound on her side.

“I’m fine,” Natasha grits out, swallowing hard against the pain. “You should be taking care of Agent Barton.” 

She tries to sidestep you, but her strength falters as the adrenaline starts to fade, and she stumbles. Bracing herself for a hard landing, she’s surprised when a pair of arms catches her before she can fall.

Leaning her head on your shoulder, Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself and shake off the wave of dizziness.

“He has enough people,” you say firmly, your voice resolute. “I can focus on taking care of you.”

With that, you adjust her gently in your arms and start guiding her toward the quinjet.

“Come on, you’re not dying today.”

You say it with such certainty and determination that Natasha can’t help but believe you.

As you walk, she glances at the side of your face, her curiosity piqued.

“How strange,” Natasha muses to herself, “to have found another person who seems to care about her existence.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Mansion, Malibu - 2010

After pretending to be impressed by Stark’s demonstration of the Iron Man armored glove and its repulsor beam, Natasha quietly slips away as Miss Potts confronts him for his reckless behavior.

At the private bar, Natasha prepares more drinks, anticipating Tony’s inevitable request for another round.

“This is quite the birthday party,” a voice comments from behind.

Natasha turns her head to find you leaning casually on the opposite side of the bar countertop, giving her a friendly smile. 

Since her initial encounter with you after joining SHIELD, Natasha hasn’t had the opportunity to work with you again, only spotting you in passing until now. 

She raises a questioning brow at you, curious about your presence and wondering how she missed you being part of the team for this mission.

“It seems you’ve gained Mr. Stark’s trust pretty well,” you remark, referring to her little performance earlier.

Returning to her task, Natasha responds as she continues to pour the drinks. 

“It’s not hard. He’s a textbook narcissist.” 

A loud clatter erupts from the other room and interrupts the conversation, prompting both of you to look at the sound in alertness.  

Tony picks himself up from where he stumbled into the DJ booth, then throws his arms up in the air with a cheer, eliciting an excited response from the crowd.

Spotting how he leans heavily on the table for support, Natasha shakes her head and continues her observations.

“His condition is worsening, though. He’ll need something to take the edge off soon.”

From the corner of her eyes, Natasha notices your expression become contemplative as you tilt your head and observe her curiously. 

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a small shake of your head. “It’s just nice of you to worry about your new friend.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at that. 

Tony Stark is just a potential candidate for the Avenger Initiative that she’s been assigned to assess. From what she’s seen, he cares less about being her friend than she does.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Natasha asserts, turning around with the tray of finished drinks.

You smoothly pluck a glass from the tray before Natasha can stop you and sip it nonchalantly, unbothered by her glare. Still, Natasha can’t help but smirk slightly, amused by your bold action. 

Setting the empty glass down, you glance at Tony, who is still playing to the crowd.

“No harm in building genuine friendships,” you comment before nodding at the billionaire. 

“Anyway, lucky for him, Fury agrees. He wants to meet with Mr. Stark soon,” you reveal.

Natasha’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Fury sent you just to tell me that?” 

You turn your gaze back to her, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you push yourself off the counter. 

“Me coming here was more of a personal choice.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, still puzzled by your answer.

“Why would you do that?” 

With a light chuckle, you meet her gaze, a slight smirk playing on your lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see the legendary Black Widow in action,” you admit, your tone teasing, before turning to walk away.

For a moment, Natasha is left stunned, her mind racing to make sense of your reasoning. But as you disappear from view, a sudden sensation tightens in her chest. She quickly sets the tray down and moves around the counter, her instincts urging her to follow you. 

Just as she takes a step forward, a deafening crash reverberates through the building. 

Whirling toward the source of the noise, Natasha’s eyes widen as she spots Tony, now clad in his Iron Man armor, locked in a fierce struggle with one of his other mech suits.

Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she braces herself to clean up yet another one of Stark’s infamous messes. 

She wonders how you could think this man could ever be among those she’d considered a friend.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Tower, New York City - 2012

With the portal closed and the battle over, Natasha and the other newly assembled Avengers gather on the top floor of the Stark Tower to complete the final task of apprehending Loki.

“Alright, get him on his feet,” Tony says, gesturing at the defeated god sprawled on the floor. His Iron Man suit begins to disengage from his body as he walks away. 

“Oh, and by the way, feel free to clean up,” he remarks to the others, waving at the destroyed room left in the aftermath of the battle. 

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words before focusing on the piece of metal in her hands. She taps Loki’s scepter gently against her palm and asks, “So, who gets the magic wand?”

Standing near the shelves filled with various bottles of alcohol, Clint retrieves two glass cups and answers, “Strike team’s coming to secure it.”

As he finishes speaking, the strike team steps out of the elevator, carrying a large case. 

“We can take that,” an agent offers, heading towards her.

“By all means,” Natasha replies, handing it to them and walking toward Clint. Out of the corner of her eyes, she notices one of the agents examining the staff’s point with their hand. 

“Careful with that thing,” she warns.

Clint nods in agreement as he hands her a glass, “Unless you want your mind erased, and not the fun way.”

As they both turn around toward the bar, the cups are taken from their hands.

“And I’ll take these,” you declare, placing them on the counter. 

“Medical team is also here,” you announce with a smirk, placing your hands on your hips. “Which means the agent with blood dripping from their head should have a seat.”

Natasha and Clint exchange glances to see who you’re referring to.

“Looks like you’re going first,” Clint declares happily, patting Natasha on her shoulder and stepping around you–not before sneakily taking back his cup. 

When Natasha doesn’t move, you cross your arms and tilt your head at her with a raised brow. 

“Well, are you going to sit, or do I need to wait until you fall on me again?”

Natasha huffs in amusement at the reminder before taking a seat on the barstool, giving you space to come closer. 

Stepping forward, you place yourself between her legs and gently brush back her hair as you examine her forehead. 

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches, so that’s good,” you comment.

Natasha clicks her tongue in mock disappointment. 

“No scar? That’s a shame.”

Your lips twitch upward slightly at her words, and Natasha grins proudly, knowing she almost made you smile. 

As you clean her wound, your hands move delicately across her skin, treating her with the utmost care.

Noticing your closeness, Natasha takes a moment to observe you, intrigued at how comfortable you are around her. She was so absorbed in watching you that she almost missed your next words. 

“You all make a good team.”

At the mention of the others, Natasha glances over at them across the room, talking and jostling each other in a friendly fashion. 

It’s admittedly an odd bunch that Fury managed to assemble: a demi-god, a super soldier, a billionaire tech genius, a scientist with an angry alter ego, and a couple of master assassins.

“Not what I imagined, but surprisingly, it turned out okay,” Natasha admits. 

After finishing the bandages, your hand drifts from her hair to gently cup her face, lifting it to meet your eyes. 

“You came together, trusted each other, and had each other’s backs—all within just a few days,” you say, your voice steady with conviction. “That’s more than just okay.”

You give her a soft smile, tilting your head lightly. 

“It’s actually pretty incredible…and so are you.”

Natasha’s eyes widen at your words, leaving her speechless.

A familiar warmth stirs in her chest, similar to the sensation she felt the last time she met you—a subtle yet undeniable pull towards you. 

The intensity of your gaze draws her in, making her feel connected to you in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Her fingers fidget in her lap as she considers bridging the small gap between you. She raises her hand hesitantly, about to reach out—

“Romanoff!” Tony calls, causing Natasha to withdraw her hand and turn her head, inadvertently making your hand fall from her face, much to her disappointment.

He and the others are gathered by the elevator, looking in her direction. Tony waves his hand in a hurried gesture.

“Hurry it up with the doctor-patient roleplay! The shawarma’s going to get cold.”

Natasha glares at him for the interruption before returning her attention to you. 

“Shawarma?” you ask with a questioning tilt of your head.

She shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I don’t know. Tony wants to try it.”

You hum in understanding and take a step back. 

“Well, that bandage should be fine for now, but you’ll need a more thorough check-up when you return.”

Natasha leans forward slightly, a small smirk playing on her lips as she teases, “By you?”

You meet her smirk with an amused smile. “We’ll see.”

Accepting that she won’t get a definitive answer, Natasha nods and stands. As she’s about to pass by you, a thought crosses her mind, and she pauses beside you.

“What about you?” she asks.

You look up from where you’re packing your things. “What about me?”

Natasha huffs lightly at your evasiveness, ready to respond, but she hesitates. Her usual confidence falters, and uncertainty flickers in her eyes for a brief moment as they meet yours. 

After everything she’s been through, Natasha is still unsure whether she deserves to feel this way about someone—to want to not feel alone.

Noticing her hesitation, your expression softens, and you offer an understanding smile. With a gentle push on her back, you urge her forward.

“Go, you deserve to celebrate this win with your team,” you say, your voice calm and encouraging.

Before Natasha can reply, Tony calls out again. 

“The elevator’s going to leave without you, Romanoff,” he warns. 

You give her an encouraging nod, and with a light sigh, she makes her way to the elevator, where the others are already waiting inside.

Tony leans casually against the elevator doors, arms crossed and a teasing grin on his face. 

Before he can make a comment, Natasha gives him a shove, pushing him inside, and quickly presses the button. As the doors close, she catches one last glimpse of your little wave at her before you disappear from view.

Reflecting on your words, Natasha glances around at the people beside her. Surrounded by her new teammates, she begins to realize that maybe, she’s not so alone anymore, after all.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

National Mall, Washington, D.C. – 2014

Natasha lets go of the back of Steve’s neck, breaking the kiss, and turns around casually on the escalator. With their fake display of affection, Rumlow and the other SHIELD agents do not spare them a glance as they search the mall.

She steps off the escalator smoothly and glances slightly over her shoulder at the super soldier. 

“You still uncomfortable?”

Steve clears his throat lightly, trying to regain his composure. 

“It’s not exactly the word I would use.”

The two walk calmly until they reach the path leading to the underground parking garage. As they pass through the doors, Natasha notices Steve’s awkward silence and decides to tease him a little.

“Don’t tell me you’re still flustered from that kiss, Rogers?”

Steve sighs at her teasing, “No, I just wasn’t expecting–”

As they round a corner, Natasha and Steve abruptly come to a stop, finding themselves face-to-face with a SHIELD agent.

He eyes them suspiciously, his hand moving toward his walkie-talkie. 

Reacting swiftly, Steve tackles him before he can alert the others, and the two engage in a fierce fistfight.

Natasha steps forward to assist, but before she can reach them, someone grabs her from behind and throws her against a concrete column. She groans in surprise as pain radiates from the impact. 

Before she can recover, a body pins her against the wall, an arm pressing against her collarbone.

Natasha’s hands instinctively push against the pressure as she focuses on her attacker. Her eyes widen in surprise at who she sees.

“Since when are you a part of the strike team?” she grunts out.

You frown slightly and nod toward Steve. 

“Since Captain America took down most of their men, and they had to pull others from different teams,” you explain before giving her a questioning look. “You do know he’s wanted by SHIELD, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha grits out, raising her knee sharply, catching you off guard. 

The sudden pain in your side forces you to loosen your grip just enough for her to slip out. With a swift motion, Natasha twists her body, reversing your positions, and slams you against the wall, pinning you there.

“Do you know why SHIELD wants you to hunt him?” Natasha challenges.

Despite being pinned, your expression remains calm as you raise a brow at her.

“What happened to the Black Widow who followed every order—no questions asked?”

Natasha pauses, thinking about the anger and sense of loss she felt after Fury’s sudden death—one of the few who had become an important figure in her life. He was betrayed, and she was determined to find out who was behind it, even if it meant going against orders.

“I’m trying something new,” Natasha answers. 

To her surprise, a smile spreads across your face, and you remark proudly, “Good.”

It’s then Natasha notices you aren’t even trying to break free from your pinned position. Your hands hang limply at your sides, offering no resistance. 

Slowly, Natasha lowers her arm from your chest and takes a small step back, allowing you to lean against the wall on your own.

You make no move to attack her.

Before Natasha can question your intentions, the walkie-talkie at your side crackles to life with incoming communication.

“Anything in the lower levels?” Rumlow’s voice asks.

Your eyes drift down to the device at the request for an answer. As your hand reaches for the walkie-talkie, Steve, having just dealt with the other agent, rushes toward you. 

But Natasha quickly stops him, holding out her to block his path. She watches you calmly as you raise the walkie to your mouth, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

“Negative in the parking garage,” you respond.

Rumlow’s frustrated growl sounds through the speaker. “Expand the search area and sweep the floors again.”

“Understood.”

With that, you casually toss the walkie aside and raise your hands in surrender. When Natasha and Steve remain still, you give them a pointed look.

“Shouldn’t the two of you be looking for a way to escape?” you suggest, your tone laced with a hint of urgency.

Understanding your intentions, Steve gives you an appreciative nod and gently touches Natasha’s arm. 

“I’ll go find us a ride,” he says.

“Okay,” Natasha replies with a nod, watching as Steve heads off in search of a vehicle.

When she turns back to you, she notices a slight frown on your face as your arms cross over your chest.

“You two seem closer,” you observe.

Natasha chuckles softly, catching the hint of displeasure in your tone. 

“Aren’t you the one who told me to make friends?”

You huff in response, giving her a tiny glare before walking past her.

As you examine the unconscious agent on the ground, a thoughtful hum escapes you, clearly contemplating your next move.

Sensing your dilemma, Natasha steps beside you and offers, “You could always come with us.”

You shake your head and turn to her with a slight smirk. 

“Three’s a crowd,” you reply before taking a step closer, tilting your head curiously. “Did you really kiss him?”

Realizing you must have overheard her earlier comment, Natasha starts to explain.

“It was just a cover.”

She watches you carefully as you take another step closer, leaving only a small gap between your bodies. Feeling slightly distracted, Natasha swallows lightly and continues, unsure why she feels the need to explain herself further.

“Public displays of affection make people very…”

Natasha’s words trail off as you place your hands on her waist and lean in slightly with a tilt of your head.

“…uncomfortable,” she finishes softly, her eyes falling to your lips, which curve up slightly at her attention.

Her pulse quickens, and for a moment, the world around the two of you fades, leaving only the charged tension in the air between you. 

That familiar, tempting feeling stirs within her again.

She lifts her eyes to meet yours, noticing the amusement dancing in your gaze.

“Are you uncomfortable?” you whisper, the words softly caressing her lips.

Natasha finds herself leaning forward as she responds with a breathless sigh, “No.” 

Just as the space between you is about to disappear, you abruptly pull back, removing your hands from her hips and stepping away. 

“Good to know,” you say with a playful grin. You raise your hand to reveal a tiny taser disk between your fingers. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”

Still stunned by your sudden move, Natasha remains frozen, too shocked to react to the revelation of the item you swiped from her.

You chuckle at her silence, tilting your head playfully. 

“Catch me?” you request before activating the device and delivering an electric shock to yourself.

Recovering quickly, Natasha catches you as you slump forward, wrapping her arms around you and gently lowering you to the ground.

With a small huff of disbelief, Natasha cups your unconscious face, caressing your cheek with a fond touch.

You always know how to leave her speechless.

A truck pulls up beside her, and Steve leans out from the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?”

Natasha takes a moment to make sure you’re positioned comfortably before nodding and hopping into the passenger seat.

As they drive toward New Jersey, the silence eventually gives way to their earlier conversation.

“Really? Nobody special, though?” Natasha asks, glancing over at Steve.

Steve sighs, a touch of exasperation in his voice. 

“Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to find someone with shared life experiences,” he replies, then gestures toward her. “And what about you? You keep urging me to go on dates, but it doesn’t seem like you’re taking any steps in your love life either.”

He nudges her arm encouragingly, adding, “That agent earlier seemed interested.”

Natasha smirks at his observation, her gaze drifting to the window as the trees blur past. After a pause, she answers, her voice thoughtful.

“I don’t know. People usually want something real,” she says, her eyes distant, as if she’s seeing something far beyond the road. She turns to Steve with a small, sad smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing about me is.”

Steve remains silent for a moment, processing her words.

“You know, you’ll never find out if someone can accept you until you let them see the real you,” he says gently, his tone firm yet understanding.

“Yeah…” Natasha whispers, almost to herself. 

Her thoughts wander to her secretive past, the parts of herself hidden from the world. If you knew who she really was, would you still trust her? Or would you leave her, like so many others had? 

Her entire life, people wanted her to be something for them—a killer, a spy, a tool. Everyone had their own agenda.

She turns back to Steve, a curious glint in her eyes. “Who do you want me to be?”

Steve meets her gaze, sincerity in his expression. “How about a friend?” he suggests, his words simple yet filled with meaning.

Natasha laughs, starting with disbelief but gradually softening into something more genuine.

Shaking her head, she imagines what her past self would think of her now—a person trying to be more open to others.

“Maybe I could manage that,” she decides, her tone lighter than ever before.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avengers Tower, New York City – 2015

Laughter fills the common room of the Avengers Tower as everyone takes turns trying to lift Thor’s hammer. With one last grunt, Steve lets go and shakes his head in defeat, returning to his seat with a chuckle.

“Alright, be honest, it’s rigged,” Tony remarks to Thor. “The handle is imprinted. The one who is worthy is the one with Thor’s fingerprints, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Clint agrees with a laugh, clinking his bottle with Natasha’s. He sits on the floor, leaning against her seat, and takes another sip.

Natasha chuckles lightly and brings her bottle up for a drink, only to pull it away and see it’s empty. She looks at it in confusion, wondering when she had finished it.

A hand takes the empty bottle from her, and Natasha turns to see you sitting on the arm of her chair, giving her an amused smile.

“You finished it two attempts ago,” you reveal.

“Were you watching me the entire time?” Natasha asks with a playful smirk.

You return her expression with a slight smirk of your own and lean in closer, your hand sliding against the back of her chair.

“Well, it’s hard to pay attention to anyone else when you’re around,” you reply.

Before Natasha can respond, Tony claps his hands together, exclaiming, “Alright, who’s next? Romanoff? Hill?”

Maria shakes her head as she stands and heads to the bar. “I’m going to have to pass.”

Chuckling lightly, you stand also and give Natasha an encouraging touch on her shoulder.

“You have fun. I’m going to get us another round.” 

Natasha’s eyes follow you the entire time as you walk away. When she finally turns back around, she notices Steve giving her a pointed look. 

“What?” she questions, arching a brow.

“Come on, you and her. It’s obvious there’s something between you two,” Steve insists.

“Don’t bother, Cap. She’s not going to be convinced. I’ve tried,” Clint chimes in, earning a tiny kick from Natasha in reprimand.

“Ow, see what I mean.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“We flirt,” she defends with a shrug. “It’s what we’ve always done. Just some innocent fun.” 

Tony, overhearing the exchange, joins the conversation with a nod toward something behind her.

“Yeah, well, it’s not looking so innocent over there,” he remarks.

Natasha furrows her brows and turns to look at the bar. Her frown deepens at what she sees.

You and Maria are talking and laughing together, with the latter leaning a bit too close for Natasha’s comfort.

“Hey, take it from someone who knows. You don’t want to wait before it’s too late,” Steve advises.

Natasha considers his words as she watches the two of you, contemplating what she should do. 

You and she have grown and maintained this comfortable dynamic for years. Of course, there’s an undeniable attraction, but Natasha isn’t sure if taking things further would be worth the risk of losing what she already has with you.

However, when Maria leans forward to whisper something in your ear, Natasha suddenly finds herself rising from her chair and heading toward the bar.

Just as you duck down to grab something from the bottom shelves, Maria takes the opportunity to slip away, passing by Natasha with a pat on the shoulder and a whispered, “Good luck.”

Frowning in confusion, Natasha glances back to see Maria and Clint exchanging a high-five. Realizing she’s been set up, Natasha turns to retreat to her seat before you notice her.

But it’s too late.

“Oh, hey, I’m almost finished with the drinks,” you call out, straightening with a grin as you spot her.

With her escape route cut off, Natasha decides to sit at the counter, her earlier irritation melting away when she meets your gaze.

“You sure you’re not getting distracted over here?” Natasha teases, her tone playful.

You laugh lightly as you secure the top of the shaker, shaking it with practiced ease, your eyes never leaving hers.

“Only if you’re the distraction,” you tease back.

Natasha relaxes at the warmth of the familiar banter, putting her at ease as she watches you finish preparing the drinks and pour them into two glasses.

You slide one across the counter to her and nod curiously toward the gathered group.

“You didn’t want to try to lift the hammer?” you ask with a curious tilt of your head.

“Oh, no,” Natasha replies, shaking her head slightly as she raises her glass to her lips. “No, that’s not a question that I need answered.”

“Really?” you respond, leaning forward on the counter, bringing yourself closer to her. Your hand inches toward hers, brushing her fingers lightly and letting the touch linger. 

With a slight smirk, you raise a brow. “Then what is?”

That familiar feeling stirs in Natasha’s chest again as she holds your gaze—the temptation to close the distance between you two growing stronger.

Recalling Steve’s advice, Natasha swallows nervously and answers in a soft whisper, “Something probably only you can help me with.”

Intrigued, you gesture for her to continue, your attention entirely on her.

“There’s this thing—this feeling,” Natasha begins cautiously. “It appears during certain situations, like a pressure in my chest.” 

You furrow your brows in concern. “Does it hurt?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her gaze dropping to the drink you made for her, swirling it gently. The small ripples are nothing compared to the pounding of her heart at that moment.

“Sometimes,” she admits, her eyes drifting to your hand beside hers. She’s tempted to intertwine them but ultimately decides against it.

“It feels like I’m standing on the edge,” Natasha explains, meeting your eyes again. “I know what’s waiting for me if I turn and walk away, but if I choose to fall…”

She releases a shaky breath. 

“…I don’t know what that future looks like, and that terrifies me.”

Your expression softens with understanding. You reach out, this time more deliberately, and your fingers find hers with gentle assurance.

Natasha clears her throat lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she tries to mask the vulnerability of her confession.

“So what should I do?” she asks, her tone teasing, an attempt to deflect the seriousness of the moment.

You chuckle softly, recognizing her attempt to lighten the mood.

“I think—”

The sound of scratching metal against the floor interrupts the conversation as Natasha and everyone in the room turn to look at the dilapidated robot that has just dragged itself in front of them.

The moments after that are chaotic as she and the Avengers have to deal with Ultron’s threat to the world.

New Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

With Ultron defeated and most of the original members either retired or off on their own adventures, Natasha watches bittersweetly as Steve welcomes the new recruits to the Avengers. 

Footsteps approach and stop beside her, and Natasha doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“The new team looks good,” you comment, your eyes scanning the mix of familiar and new faces before glancing at Natasha’s expression.

“Do you miss them?” you ask softly, understanding the emotions behind her eyes.

Natasha sighs, her gaze still fixed on the newcomers.

“Nothing lasts forever,” she replies, a touch of sadness in her voice but not surprised. She’s accustomed to things not staying a part of her life.

You hum thoughtfully, considering her words before declaring with quiet conviction, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that with me.”

Natasha turns to look at you with a curious tilt of her head.

You offer her a small, reassuring smile. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, your words laced with promise.

A soft smile spreads across Natasha’s face at your assurance, feeling the familiar warmth blossoming in her chest.

“You never answered my question,” she reminds you, referring to the conversation that was interrupted earlier.

Natasha waits, her nerves on edge as you consider your response. Finally, you meet her gaze with a soft expression, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

“You should do whatever feels right for you,” you say sincerely, giving her arm a comforting squeeze before turning to leave.

Natasha looks down, a slight shake of her head and a light huff of amusement escaping her as she recognizes your deflection.

“But if you want my opinion…” you add, pausing at the doorway, prompting Natasha to look back up at you.

Lingering at the threshold, you offer her a playful smirk. “… I’d say, based on my track record, I’ve caught you when you’ve fallen before.” You shrug lightly. “And it seems like everything has turned out fine since then.”

Your smile widens as you notice Natasha rendered speechless once again before you turn to leave the room.

Recovering quickly, Natasha strides after you with determination. She catches up to you this time, gently taking your hand and turning you around to face her.

Cupping your cheek, she leans in and kisses you, pouring all her emotions into the gesture.

Before she can even worry that she might have made a mistake, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving fervently against hers.

The world around Natasha fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, and she knows she made the right decision.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Leipzig-Halle Airport, Leipzig – 2016

Natasha looks across the airport at the people she had come to call friends and then back at those standing beside her. As the two sides rush at each other and engage in battle, she can’t help but wonder how it came to this—how they all decided that fighting each other was the only option left. 

She’s not even sure if signing the accords was the right choice, but the one thing she does know is that staying together is supposed to be the most important thing. 

Just because they’re fighting now doesn’t mean Natasha cares any less about them. The thought lingers as the chaos of battle surrounds her. 

Clint flips her to the ground, and she reacts instinctively, bringing up her batons to block his bow from pinning her down. The two lock eyes, a familiar intensity passing between them.

“We’re still friends, right?” Natasha asks, her voice steady despite the conflict around them.

Clint smirks, the kind of smile that reassures her, even in the midst of battle. 

“Depends on how hard you hit me.”

Natasha grins back, then uses her legs to flip him off of her. She springs to her feet, ready to deliver a follow-up kick, when a sudden wave of red energy wraps around her leg, freezing her in place. 

Startled, she glances to the side, catching only a brief glimpse of Wanda before she’s hurled through the air. 

Natasha braces herself for the inevitable impact, but instead of hitting the metal wall of an airport car, she collides with a body in mid-air. 

A pair of arms wrap around her, cushioning the fall as they both tumble to the ground. They roll to a stop, with Natasha ending up on top. 

Dazed but unharmed, she pushes herself up, her breath coming in short gasps as she looks down to see who caught her.

“Hey,” Natasha greets softly, a small smile forming on her lips as she cups your face with her hands. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t return her smile, instead frowning at her with concern. 

“The Avengers are fighting each other, and you didn’t think to call me?” 

Natasha’s smile falters, and she shifts her gaze away, her voice soft with guilt. 

“I didn’t want you to have to choose a side.”

You release a knowing sigh. 

“You mean, you were afraid I wouldn’t agree with your choice,” you correct gently.

Natasha twists her lips at the truth in your words. 

Yes, she’s afraid. Her makeshift family is breaking apart before her eyes, and she’s desperate to protect the one other part of her life that matters. 

Why wouldn’t she try to shield you from this chaos?

Your hand covers hers, still resting on your cheek, drawing her attention back to you.

“I’ve told you, Nat. Do whatever it is you feel is right for you. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Natasha’s eyes soften, a wave of relief washing over her. She starts to lean in, but you stop her with a gentle press of your finger against her lips.

“However,” you add, your voice firm and disapproving, “not calling me and having me find out from Stark? That’s a different kind of trouble you’re in.” 

Natasha chuckles, taking your hand from her face and pressing a gentle kiss against your palm, a hint of playfulness entering her voice.

“Well, you still love me though, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain your stern expression, though it softens slightly.

“I don’t know. Ask me again after this,” you tease back at her. 

Before Natasha can respond, Tony’s voice crackles through the comms, interrupting the moment. 

“Uh, less flirting, you two. In case you forgot, there are multiple fights happening around you.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes, but the smile remains on her face as she helps you up, ready to rejoin the fray.

Leipzig Hospital Balcony

“You let them go, Nat,” Tony accuses, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Natasha doesn’t deny it. In the end, she chose to help Steve and Bucky because it was the right thing to do. If the fighting didn’t stop, it would only cause more pain for everyone involved.

“We played this wrong,” Natasha admits, her voice tinged with regret.

“We?” Tony scoffs, shaking his head in frustration. “You know, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Natasha flinches inwardly, the hurt flickering across her face before she quickly masks it. 

His comment cuts deeper than she expected, reminding her of the ghosts of her past, the shadows she’s fought so hard to leave behind after all these years. 

But here, at this moment, those shadows seem to close in on her, dark and suffocating, reminding her of the person she used to be.

Her voice hardens, a cold edge creeping into her tone. “Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?” 

Tony’s expression remains stony, but there’s a brief flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or disappointment. He doesn’t back down, though. 

“T’Challa told Ross what you did, so…they’re coming for you.” 

Natasha meets his gaze, her eyes steely, refusing to show any sign of fear. 

“I’m not the one that needs to watch their back,” she replies before turning to leave.

As she walks away, the weight of the confrontation settles in her chest, heavy and suffocating. 

She finds an empty hallway and leans against the wall, pressing her hands to her eyes, trying to push back the frustration and the sting of Tony’s words. Her breath comes in uneven gasps as she struggles to regain her composure.

A gentle hand touches her wrist, a gesture of comfort, but in her raw state, she instinctively swats it away. 

When she looks up, your expression is sad as your hands retreat to your sides. You clear your throat awkwardly, searching for the right words. 

“I can talk with Ross. Maybe change his mind or something.”

Natasha breaks away from your soft gaze, looking down and biting her lip to stop herself from saying the cutting remark on the tip of her tongue—that it would not make a difference, not with her past. 

She’s all too aware of the person she was, and no words could erase that history.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you try to reassure her. 

Despite the same certainty and determination in your tone, Natasha can’t seem to find it in her to believe that to be true this time.

Glancing up, Natasha’s eyes fall on the bruises and scratches on your face, injuries you sustained because of her—because you chose to stand by her side. 

The sight only deepens the ache in her chest.

“Don’t,” Natasha mutters, her voice trembling. “Just leave.”

“Nat…” you begin, your voice soft, filled with concern.

But she closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if to block out the sound. “I said go! Leave me alone!” 

The harshness in her tone is laced with pain, and it cuts through the air like a knife. 

For a moment, there’s silence, thick and heavy, before you turn and walk away, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts. 

The hallway echoes with the sound of your retreating footsteps.

Natasha sinks down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, feeling the weight of her actions pressing down on her like never before.

She thought she could finally have a different life, that she could change, but nothing has changed. She still hurts the people around her.

So, Natasha does what she does best. She disappears.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seventh Circle Prison, Russia – 2016

The whirl of the helicopter blades fills the air as Natasha flies away from the prison, the tension inside the cabin palpable among its three occupants.

“It means so much to me that you girls came back for me,” Alexei begins, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Natasha, however, isn’t in the mood for such sentimentality. Her voice is sharp as she cuts him off, “No. No, you’re gonna tell us how to get to the Red Room.”

Alexei huffs, slightly taken aback by her tone.

“Whoa, look at you, huh? All business.”

“Trust me, this isn’t pleasure,” Natasha retorts, her eyes narrowing in irritation. She was not prepared to deal with her old family after just losing her new one. But the quicker she destroys the Red Room and saves the remaining Widows, the faster she can leave this part of her past behind.

Behind her, Alexei chuckles, though there’s a trace of bitterness in his laughter.

“Little Natasha, all indoctrinated into the Western agenda.”

Natasha’s gaze hardens as she turns to glare at him. 

“I chose to go west to become an Avenger. At least they treated me like family.”

“Really? Family?” Alexei’s tone drips with sarcasm. “Well, where are they now?”

From the corner of her eye, Natasha catches Yelena looking at her. A mix of emotions crosses Yelena’s face—curiosity, concern, and a brief flash of sadness—before she turns away, staring forward.

“Where is that family now?” Alexei repeats, his voice louder, more insistent.

Unable to face the question any longer, Natasha turns away, focusing on the landscape outside instead.

The ache of loss resurfaces within her, a painful reminder of the bonds she once believed were unbreakable, now torn apart so easily.

As the helicopter continues to slice through the air, the silence between them grows heavier, especially after Natasha discovers that Melina is still working for Dreykov, remotely operating somewhere outside of Saint Petersburg.

With Yelena now at the controls of the helicopter, Natasha takes a moment for herself. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small flip phone—the only possession she hadn’t discarded when she went on the run.

Opening it, she stares at the screen, at the message she’s been fixated on for weeks.

“I love you” 

It was the last thing you sent her after she had disappeared. 

Natasha swallows nervously before attempting once more to type a response. Her fingers move over the keys, spelling out the same words that appeared on the screen countless times before.

I’m sorry|

But once again, nothing else follows. Frustration wells up inside her as her fingers hesitate, struggling to find the right words.

Instead of clarity, a heavy weight presses down on her—guilt from your last moment together, regret over her actions, and fear of what the future holds for the two of you.

Before she can dwell on it further, the helicopter suddenly lurches, jostling everyone inside.

“Yelena?!” Natasha calls out, her voice filled with alarm.

The blonde-haired Widow nods calmly, her tone casual despite the situation. 

“Uh, yeah, the plane’s going down.” She flips a few switches, nodding in confirmation. “Told you we didn’t have enough fuel to get there.”

Groaning in frustration, Natasha quickly tucks the phone away, securing herself as she declares, “Everyone, brace yourselves.”

After a rough landing and leaving the wrecked helicopter behind, they finally arrive at Melina’s home.

The four of them sit awkwardly around the table, a scene eerily reminiscent of how it was many years ago.

Breaking the silence, Alexei exclaims joyfully, “Family! Back together again!”

Natasha rolls her eyes, dismissing his enthusiasm as she tries to stay focused on the mission.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen—”

“Natasha, don’t slouch,” Melina interrupts, her voice carrying a motherly tone.

Blinking in surprise, Natasha straightens slightly, though she couldn’t help but argue, “I’m not slouching.”

“Yes, yes you are,” Melina insists, her tone firm.

“I don’t slouch,” Natasha retorts, irritation creeping into her voice. 

“You’re going to get a back hunch,” Melina continues, unfazed by Natasha’s resistance.

Alexei nods in agreement, tapping her arm. “Listen to your mother.” 

“All right, enough! All of you,” Natasha snaps, trying to regain control of the situation and her emotions. Her voice is tinged with disbelief at their sudden concern—as if they hadn’t abandoned her and Yelena to the Red Room once their mission was over.

“I didn’t say anything. That’s not fair,” Yelena quips, her tone laced with dry humor.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha tries again, “Here’s what’s going to happen—”

“I don’t want any food,” Yelena complains as Melina places a spoonful onto her plate.

“Eat a little something, Yelena, for God’s sake,” Melina urges, her voice slipping back into the role of a concerned mother.

The constant interruptions and forced familial interactions finally push Natasha over the edge, and her frustration boils over.

“Enough! Stop, just stop pretending to care. Our family was never real,” Natasha snaps, her voice rising. “Nothing about us is real!”

Yelena’s breath catches in her throat at Natasha’s declaration.

“Don’t say that.” Yelena’s frown deepens as she continues, “Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me.” 

Natasha falters at Yelena’s response, regret immediately washing over her. She hadn’t meant to hurt her sister, but with everything that’s happened in the past weeks, she could no longer control her anger and frustration.

Swallowing hard, Natasha stays silent, her hands clenching in her lap to keep from reaching out to comfort Yelena.

Yelena shakes her head in disbelief, hastily wiping away a stray tear. “The best part of my life was fake,” she exhales deeply, her voice trembling with emotion, “and none of you told me.”

She turns to Natasha, her voice filled with hurt and heavy with accusation. “And you…you got out. Dreykov made sure no one could escape after that. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Natasha holds Yelena’s gaze for a long, tense moment, the silence between them charged with unspoken pain. Finally, Natasha flinches away, guilt preventing her from finding the right words.

Melina reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Yelena’s shoulder. But Yelena quickly brushes it off, standing abruptly and turning to leave.

“Yelena…” Natasha calls after her, her voice heavy with regret.

Yelena ignores her, slamming the door behind her as she storms out.

“Uh…I’ll go talk to her,” Alexei offers, standing up to follow.

Natasha’s gaze falls, her eyes glaring at the table as the weight of guilt presses down on her chest, almost suffocating her. She suddenly stands, pushing her chair back with a harsh scrape, and quickly leaves the table, heading for the bathroom.

Once inside, she splashes cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the turmoil churning inside her.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, frustration is etched into every line of her face.

Why does it seem like the only thing she’s capable of is hurting those around her?

Natasha can’t even remember what made her believe that someone like her could have a different life—that she could change and be more than what she was trained to be.

Sighing deeply, Natasha leaves the bathroom and returns to the table, only to find that Melina has gone as well.

Unsurprised, Natasha finds herself alone once again. She closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. As she does, she recalls how she used to cope with the pain of loneliness, slowly beginning to rebuild the walls around her heart.

But then, a small commotion outside catches her attention.

Moving cautiously, Natasha heads toward the front of the house to investigate. As she reaches the door, she freezes, hearing a familiar voice that stops her in her tracks.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m just looking for someone.”

Natasha’s brow furrows in recognition, but she quickly shakes her head, dismissing the thought. It can’t be possible.

“The next town is five miles that way,” Melina’s voice responds, cold and unwelcoming.

Curiosity gets the better of her, and Natasha peeks out the door, stepping outside cautiously. Her eyes widen in surprise when they meet yours.

“Nat…” you say softly, taking a hesitant step closer. But before you can move further, Melina raises the gun in her hand, her eyes filled with a clear warning.

“Wait,” Natasha calls out, rushing forward. She places her hand on Melina’s, gently but firmly lowering the weapon. “She’s not a threat.” 

“Well, that’s a little offensive,” you remark with a slight glare, crossing your arms. 

Natasha gives you a look, silently conveying that she didn’t mean it that way, then turns back to Melina.

“Could you give us a moment?” Natasha asks. 

Melina hesitates briefly, her protective gaze lingering on Natasha, but eventually nods. With a wary glance in your direction, she retreats back into the house.

Once alone, Natasha turns to you, her expression conflicted with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“How did you find me?” 

“I got worried after the message you sent me,” you explain, pulling out your phone and showing her the screen.

On it is a jumbled message: “I’m sorrywjhsgf”

Natasha grimaces, realizing her fingers must have accidentally pressed some buttons during the helicopter’s turbulent descent. She mentally kicks herself for the unintended message.

“I didn’t mean to send that.”

At her words, your face falls as understanding dawns on you, the light in your eyes dimming. 

“Oh,” you mutter quietly, glancing down as you fidget with your phone before tucking it away. You shuffle in place unsurely before turning away with a shake of your head. 

“I should just go,” you say, disappointment clear in your voice. 

Realizing the misunderstanding she’s caused, Natasha quickly reaches out, catching your arm and turning you back to face her, her words spilling out in a rush.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Natasha blurts out, her voice urgent as she steps closer. “I wanted to say more than just sorry,” she clarifies, hoping you’ll understand.

You pause, your gaze lingering where her hand rests on your arm. Slowly, you pull away, and her hand drops back to her side.

At your distancing action, Natasha’s heart pounds painfully in her chest as she realizes how much she’s risked by not reaching out sooner and letting her fears and insecurities get in the way of what truly matters.

She braces herself for the inevitable. 

But instead of leaving, you surprise her by simply crossing your arms and waiting, a silent gesture that tells her you’re willing to listen.

Natasha exhales, only now realizing she’d been holding her breath. The familiar way you look at her, unchanged from before, causes the walls she’d been building to crumble.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to speak.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” she says, her voice tinged with guilt. Natasha hesitates, searching for the right words to express the turmoil inside her, still struggling to find herself amidst all the chaos.

“There’s so much more I need to say,” she continues, her voice softening, almost pleading. “But the problem is that I haven’t figured it all out yet. What I do know, though—” she pauses, her eyes locking onto yours, searching for any hint of hope, “—is that I don’t want you to leave.”

When she finishes, your expression remains unreadable.

Natasha bites her lip, anxiety twisting in her stomach as she watches you contemplate her words. Being this vulnerable is unfamiliar territory for her, and it terrifies her more than she’s willing to admit. 

“Please don’t go,” she whispers, a final, desperate plea, hoping it’s enough to convey the depth of her true feelings.

You look up at the sky, exhaling softly as if weighing your options.

When your gaze finally meets hers again, a small, playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You gesture toward the house, the tension easing as a lighter tone returns to your voice.

“New friends?” you ask, the warmth in your tone bringing a small smile to Natasha’s face.

Natasha chuckles lightly, the pressure in her chest easing at your familiar banter.

“More like an old, broken family.”

You hum thoughtfully, your teasing grin softening into a more sympathetic expression.

“So, not much different,” you remark, referencing the fractured state of the Avengers.

Natasha sighs sadly, her smile fading at the reminder of her situation.

“What should I do?” she asks, her voice tinged with the uncertainty she’s been trying so hard to conceal. 

It feels as though no matter what she does, nothing ever changes. She pretends to have all the answers, but deep down, she knows the truth is far from that.

“Whatever you feel is right,” you respond without hesitation, your confidence in her unwavering.

Natasha scoffs softly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features as she hesitates. Her eyes meet yours, searching for reassurance.

“And what makes you so sure I’ll make the right choice?” she asks, her voice revealing the doubt that lingers deep within her.

You take a moment to consider your response before stepping closer, gently cupping her face in your hands.

“Because after everything you’ve been through, you’ve still kept your heart,” you say with quiet conviction, your thumb gently brushing her cheek as you lean your forehead against hers.

“That’s how I know you’ll figure this out, too,” you add, your voice filled with certainty.

Your words settle over Natasha, bringing a sense of calm to her chaotic thoughts. For the first time in a long while, she feels a glimmer of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she can find her way through this mess and everything else, too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avenger Compound, Upstate New York – 2018

Natasha sits on the edge of the bed in her old room at the Avengers Compound, watching you as you methodically strap on your gear and check your weapons.

The room is dimly lit, shadows playing along the walls, and the tension from the past few hours hangs heavily in the air.

Her leg bounces with nervous energy, worry gnawing at her. She presses her palms together, fidgeting with her fingers, before dropping her gaze to the floor and releasing a soft, scared sigh.

But the fear isn’t for herself. 

“You can still go, you know,” Natasha mutters softly, her voice barely breaking the silence. 

You hum in acknowledgment, not pausing in your preparation, the sound of buckles and straps filling the room. 

“Do you want me to?” you ask over your shoulder, your tone casual, almost too casual for the weight of the question.

Natasha huffs, recognizing your familiar deflection, and shakes her head. 

With Bruce’s dire warning about the impending battle with Thanos and his army still echoing in her mind, she can’t help the fear that tightens her chest as she looks at the person who has chosen to stand by her side, time and time again. 

“I want you safe,” Natasha admits, her voice trembling with the honesty of her words. 

“Good, I feel the same about you,” you reply, turning to face her, your expression softening as you take in the sight of her.

“I’m serious. This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before,” Natasha warns, her eyes pleading with yours to understand. 

“Which means you’ll need all the help you can get,” you say, stepping closer until you’re standing right in front of her.

Natasha twists her lips, frustrated by the truth in your words. She looks away, trying to hide the turmoil in her eyes. 

But you won’t let her retreat. 

You gently catch her chin with your finger, guiding her face back to yours as you lean down to press a soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes flutter shut as she returns the kiss, her hand instinctively finding the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she can anchor herself in the warmth of your touch.

When you finally pull away, Natasha bites her lip lightly, trying to hold onto the warmth for just a moment longer.

You rest your forehead against hers, and she finally opens her eyes, meeting yours with a rare vulnerability she shows only to you.

“Are you scared?” you ask softly, your voice laced with the same fear gnawing at her. 

Natasha’s eyes roam across your face, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time she sees you.

“Terrified,” she admits, her voice raw with emotion.

“Me too,” you say, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips as your thumb gently caresses her cheek. 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask, even though Natasha’s sure you already know the answer. 

The Avengers are her family. Imperfect and flawed, but they always strive to make the world a safer place—to do what’s right. She would never abandon them when they need her most.

“No,” she responds, her voice filled with determined resolve. 

You smile knowingly at her response, your gaze drifting around the room as a look of nostalgia washes over you. 

The soft, wistful look in your eyes tells Natasha that you’re recalling the memories of all the times the two of you spent together in this space. 

When you meet Natasha’s gaze again, a playful smile tugs at your lips.

“Do you still love me?” you ask teasingly.

Natasha huffs in mock offense, the corner of her lips twitching into a half-smile. You can’t help but chuckle at her reaction, raising a brow in amusement.

“Well?” you whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer, your breath warm against her skin, your hands resting gently on her shoulders.

Instead of answering, Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in until you’re straddling her, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of her. 

The bed dips slightly under your combined weight, and Natasha holds you close, her hands firm yet gentle on your waist.

“I love you,” Natasha breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want to lose you.” 

You cup her face in your hands, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you give her a reassuring smile. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reaffirm, your voice steady and full of the certainty she needs to hear. 

You lower yourself onto her, gently guiding her down to lie back against the bed, your lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. 

You had said it with such conviction that Natasha can’t help but believe you, just as she always has. 

But how could she have known that after this battle, for the first time ever, it wouldn’t be true?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Vomir – 2023

They say that when someone is about to die, their life flashes before their eyes—a rapid montage of memories, achievements, failures, regrets, and the relationships that mattered most.

For Natasha, the idea of her life flashing before her eyes seems almost laughable. Her early years are a blur of pain, manipulation, and control—years she would rather forget than relive.

The truth is, her real life didn’t begin until much later.

If Natasha had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would be when she found herself face-to-face with the sharp point of an arrow—the moment she met the first person to see something in her worth saving when she had seen nothing in herself.

That was the moment she was given the chance to truly live.

Her mind floods with memories of the life she built after that fateful encounter—a life she had never imagined for herself, filled with friends, laughter, and moments of unexpected warmth.

She remembers the first time she allowed herself to trust again, to let people in despite the walls she had built around her heart. 

With all their quirks and flaws, the Avengers became the family she never knew she needed. They challenged her, frustrated her, and made her feel alive in ways she had never thought possible.

But it wasn’t always easy. Natasha recalls the arguments, the disagreements, and the moments when it seemed like they were tearing apart at the seams. 

However, no matter how far they drifted, they always found their way back to each other.

She learned to fight for them, to fight for herself, and to fight for something greater than her past.

And then there were those who reached out from her previous life, some seeking assistance, some seeking redemption. Even then, Natasha chose to rebuild those broken bonds of the past.

Yet, among all these memories, one person stands out more than any other. 

That person was there at every pivotal moment in her life—whether she was on the verge of giving up or standing tall in the face of adversity. Through the highs and lows, they were her constant, the one who saw her for who she truly was and loved her all the more for it.

In her final moments, Natasha’s mind doesn’t dwell on her victories or her failures.

Instead, she sees your face, the one constant in her life that brought her peace and happiness. 

Natasha remembers the way you looked at her, with eyes that held no judgment, only love. She recalls the way your touch calmed her, the way your presence made her feel safe in a world that had always been hostile.

As she falls, Natasha realizes that this connection is what matters most. It’s not the battles or the missions that define her, but the love she found in the most unexpected place. 

And as the darkness closes in, the last thing she sees is you, a symbol of everything she has fought for and everything she has come to cherish.

Her final breath is taken not in fear but in peace, knowing that she lived a life worth remembering—a life filled with love, friendship, and purpose.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Cemetery, Ohio — 2023

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

Natasha had asked you that question once. 

At the time, you couldn’t come up with a definite answer, so you had turned the question back to her. 

You remember the way her lips curved into a small, wistful smile as she considered it, her eyes reflecting a depth of sadness you had only glimpsed before. 

“I don’t know,” she had replied, her voice soft but honest, as if she had long accepted that was her inevitable fate.

Natasha could not come up with an answer then, but you did.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

You didn’t need any time to think about the answer. Many people could rightfully fill that role. 

To Melina and Alexei, she was their beloved daughter, the one who had been torn from them too soon, only to return with a strength and resolve that made them proud. 

To Yelena, she was her cherished sister—a mentor, a protector, the person who had sacrificed so much to ensure Yelena had a chance at a real life, free from the chains of the Red Room. 

To the Avengers, she was a valued teammate and friend, the glue that held them together through the darkest times. She was their moral compass, the one who always found a way to do what was right, even when the cost was high. 

To the world, she was a hero, a symbol of resilience and redemption. The Black Widow, who had fought for a better future, leaving a legacy that would inspire generations to come.

To you…she was everything.

Your fingers trace the delicate grooves of her engraved name, feeling the weight of every memory, every moment you had shared. 

You stood by her side through nearly all of it—the battles, the victories, the losses. You had seen her at her best and at her worst, through moments of triumph and times of doubt. 

You loved her fiercely, from strangers to friends to something so much more.

She was the woman who had shown you the strength of vulnerability, the power of redemption, and the courage to love despite the risks.

In the end, you were right about all those who would come to see her, to pay their respects to the woman who had become an important part of their lives. 

But they would all eventually leave, returning to their own lives, their own battles. They would remember her, yes, but they would move on.

But not you.

“So, who would sit at Natasha’s grave the longest?”

That answer was clear.

“You would. Now and forever.” 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: this one was really long so if you made it to the end in one go, kudos for you and thank you for taking the time to read it!

[official-lucifers-child]

casual MLA formatting (a common way of structuring essays and citing sources) and following established nonfiction/journalism writing rules are really cool in online spaces like tumblr. let me briefly give some examples.

if you’re using an acronym in your post, establish what the acronym means first, like “the grand budapest hotel (GBH)” THEN use the acronym for the rest of the post. i see too many posts that just go right into the acronyms with nothing else to indicate what they mean, like “if you like the HTTYD movies but you’ve never read the books, are you really a fan?” which makes no sense to someone who doesn’t know what HTTYD is. instead, say “if you like the How To Train Your Dragon (HTTYD) movies…” just to give people a chance. this goes for shorthand/abbreviations and slang terms, too!!

if you’re quoting or referencing something, CITE IT. “actually tempering chocolate with extra cocoa butter results in XYZ (source)” is so much more useful for people who want to learn more than a lone claim with no source or reference. even a link/url or saying “look up “specific phrase” to learn more” is more helpful than nothing. we live in a period where nearly everyone has access to the internet, but not everyone knows how to navigate it. if you already have a couple sources, make it easier for everyone by citing them. different citation styles have different rules, but i use MLA because i already have all the rules memorised.

beyond that, being conscious of paragraph breaks and individual sentences is extremely helpful. we fanfic writers and readers joke about a massive block of text being a turn off, but it is the same for nonfiction!! chunk out your rant into bite sized paragraphs please.

i know online spaces like tumblr can be extraordinarily casual with slang terms and grammar rules, but it often gets to a point where even posts intended to be educational and informational are incomprehensible. i don’t really care about your two thousand blorbo posts, but if you’ve ever wondered how to improve the coherency of your rants and tangents, start with improving grammar, establishing acronyms, shorthand terms, and slang terms, and citing any claims you make especially if you already have sources on hand.

this has been a Public Service Announcement (PSA).

[sofs16]

our home

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos — next

not proofread, as usual:)

yn.jpg

budapest, hungary

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, carlossainz55, and 392,383 others

yn.jpg beautiful race and driver who man never sits still 😆

view all 82,484 comments

laufeyyn as much as i love you and paddock yn, do you not have a job? 😭

⤷ yn.jpg NOO DW ID QUESTION THIS TOO! i actually still do have a job but it’s mostly online unless there’s a photoshoot somewhere or meeting:) i usually do my work at the paddock (war flashbacks to when i was called a horrible wag for being on my laptop😊) but yes i still work! ⤷ ynml i love how straightforward she is esp w the hate she got at silverstone LOL HATERS

[liked by yn.jpg]

chacha166 i love how its been a year but yn is still so active with us 🥹

⤷ yn.jpg you guys are so kind and silly its kinda hard to stop 🤷🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

july 23, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 7,383,383 others

charles_leclerc P2 at Spa! Huge congratulations to Carlos on his win. Started at P14 and maximized the car. Time to recharge ❤️

Photo 📷: @yn @yn.jpg😘

view all 271,484 comments

yn proudest of you ❤️‍🩹

⤷ charles_leclerc ❤️

yncharles THE PGOTO CREDITS LALALAAJAKAHAHAHAHA

carlossainz55 Why does yn not take photos of me

⤷ yn i do but i havent posted them yet, carlitos :( congrats on p1! yahoooo

july 30, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 6,373,383 others

yn something happened 💟

view all 981,574 comments

charles_leclerc 🏠

⤷ yn hehehe

yncharlesparents DID THEY MOVE IN TOGETHER WHAT

[liked by yn] ⤷ yncharlesparents SHITTING MY PANTS

⤷ yn wear a diaper, it helps

yourbsf i better have a room yn yln

⤷ yn the living room is spacious enough ❤️

⤷landonorris what about me

⤷ yn um we have 2 couches? ⤷ landonorris good enough

august 3, 2024

liked by yn, and 10,483,494 others

charles_leclerc Home ❤️ And can you believe Yn has 2 closets and says it’s not enough? 😂

📷 Photo: @yn @yn.jpg 😍

view all 1,483,695 comments

user11 she’s so ungrateful

user13 I bet she makes him buy all her clothes..

⤷ yn @user11 @user13 Actually, I have a job that allows me to pay for my wants, not that I need to explain myself! And I am very grateful for everything so don’t make assumptions, it was a joke. Hope you have a good life and actually find a job instead of being rude to people you don’t know! ❤️

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ yneditss I fear, she ate. ⤷ charles283 I bet the PR is not happy abt this but we are 😊

⤷ yn i spoke my truth 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ynhumor I CACKLED I LOVE HER

⤷ ferrariforza You know she’s serious when she makes the capitalization and punctuations 😭

yncharles16 i love how yn is slowly taking over charles’ insta hehe he’s so whipped

august 6, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by yn, and 7,585 others

f1wagsoft._ Yn and Charles ❤️❤️

view all 328 comments

yn 🥹❤️‍🩹

⤷ ynstan yn is always active for f1wagsoft._ AHAHA

⤷ yn loveeee em

⤷ f1wagsoft._ ❤️ august 7, 204

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, and 2,483,595 others

yn.jpg peaceful life 💌

view all 1,385,584 comments

ynzangel SHE HAS CHILDREN?

littlewomennzz EXCUSE ME?

lovelaufhlife WHAT

charles_leclerc Beautiful❤️

⤷ landonorris WHAT IS HAPPENING

yn.jpg IM NOT A MOTHER

⤷ ynschild you’re our mother. ⤷ yn.jpg true dat, child

⤷ ynsfan did she just say “true dat” HAHAHAHA IM GIGGLING I LOVE

⤷ yn.jpg WHAT AB IT ??????? august 8, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,484,484 others

yn im sincerely sorry for the fright. i am not pregnant or with child or have child 😭

that was charles’ nephew and niece…

view all 934,484 comments

landonorris Soon?

⤷ yn YOURE LITWRALLY MY CHILD HUSH

⤷ landonorris maybe.. idk

⤷ yn IM OLDER THAN YOU? ⤷ landonorris BY A FEW YEARS

charles_leclerc Cuteeee🤓

[liked by yn]

yourfavynstan All jokes aside, she looks like she’s make a lovely mother:( especially one with those quiet lives away from all the chaos of fame

⤷ charles.updated the day they settle down and charles content disappears 😭😭😭😭

⤷ yn this is so kind omg. and you will never run out of charles content as long as i live and we live together! pinky swear

⤷f1gr1dd I LOVE HER IT HURTS

august 9, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by 14,383 others

f1wagsoft._ That… is not Yn Yln with Charles Leclerc.

view all 29,383 comments

ynchar YN? MOM? WHAT

charrrl guys, theres more pics leaked.. it’s him… and not yn.

charlando WHAT

ynupdated @yn pls what. be active. youre always active here

user16 i don’t like charles with anyone other than charlotte and i thought i would he happy about this but im not. charles and yn truly did look like they loved each other

⤷ yncha WE DONT USE “LOVED”. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

⤷ f111grid delulu is the solulu. we’re the same 😞

ynleclerc1 Not with zandvoort gp 2 days away.

riciando idt yn will respond abt this. sure she seems very open but you can see she’s only open about certain parts of her life. we don’t even know how old she is or where she lived before charles or anything 😭

august 23, 2024

#SOF : is this a bad time to say im a writer who likes to leave cliffhangers ?

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.3

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader

summary : turns out you're not as stong as you think you are, and you were sure that you've made a mistake. or are you?

warning : unedited and rushed work, harsh words, slowburn.

a/n : GOSH THIS WILL BE A LONG ONE IM SORRY-

masterlist

there is nothing better than to be able to sat on your own bed, any 5 stars hotels will never beat the comfort of your own bed and you know it very well.

"finally." you said as you plopped onto your bed, falling head first to your king-sized mattress.

you inhale deeply as you close your eyes before exhaling slowly through your mouth.

"no one can ever replace you..." you mumble to your pillow as you close your eyes.

you always love your own bed. the familiar lavender scent, the lovely satin pillow, and most importantly your navy blue hand-made knitted blanket that you got for your 17th birthday.

it was one of those chunky knitted blanket that everyone obsessed about back in 2017. and you're proud to say that you did it first in 2007, ten years before that thing even trending. well, actually, daniel gave it to you so he did it first.

you remember how adamant you are about him buying you gifts for your 17th birthday. you knew he would spent lots of money because he was is that extra, and you knew money is not a problem for him.

"c'mon (y/n), let me buy you gift for your birthday before i move to italy."

and you can't say no to that. but of course you gave him a budget and told him no expensive shit because it won't be special (since you can buy it also) and daniel happily agree.

so when he gave you a huge blue box, you'd expected something like a huge teddy bear. but you remember telling him that you hate teddy bear.

"open it, open it!"

and when you open the box you let out an audible gasp as you pull the blanket out of the box. the soft merino wool engulf you, and you squeel in excitement as you put yourself in a cocoon of the blanket. daniel watch in amusement as he ruffle your hair.

"i asked one of my friend's sister to make it for you. i paid her don't worry!"

and now back to present day, 14 years later, the blanket still there with you. although its not as fluffy as it used to be, you still snuggle with it when you having trouble to sleep. but of course no one knew about that, not even daniel himself.

the navy blue blanket is draped over your sofa, sitting there snuggly. you always put it on your sofa since the accident that almost cost you that blanket. it was 3 years ago and you remember you're about to cry when you saw that the threads is coming lose because you accidently pull the blanket too hard when you were having a 'guest' on your bed while doing the devil's tango.

the phone on your back pocket vibrate and you relucantly take your phone out and answer the call. must be important.

"hello?"

"(y/n) this is lando norris."

you sat down now, sitting with your legs pulled close to your chest. why the hell lando would call you at this hours? its 1 past 15 a.m right now.

"oh, yeah. what's up bud?"

"we're in budapest right now and daniel is wasted... and i heard that you live here, can you pick him up? i can't take him back with my car since i'm here with my plus one, and calling uber at this hours seems dangerous–"

"god i am not a good driver, when did it all went wrong??"

'– daniel don't go there its dangerous! daniel– oh god i have to go he's about to walk to the pool!"

"what? lan–lando? hello?"

your exhaustion seems to gone instantly, make you shoot up from your bed. you grab your purse and car key as you running to your garage, almost tripped when you descent from your the top of the stairs.

thanks to baby jesus you're still in fairly 'decent' clothes so you don't have to worry about changing it. what you didn't think about was grabbing a coat, and boy the cold weather bite your skin.

but you could care less about being cold. daniel is your top concern. him being drunk is something you rarely see because of his high alcohol tolerance, and you know the situation is bad if he is wasted. you don't know what happen, but maybe it had to do with the hungary grand prix. you have not watched the race so you don't know what happen.

you drove out from your garage as you fumble with your bluetooth connection. your aston martin dbs roar in the almost silent road as you finally able to connect your phone.

you clicked a call button from your car, quickly calling lando again as you drove like a maniac. budapest is almost two hours drive from your place in szeged, so you have to turn yourself into an f1 driver.

"lando, drop your location i'm on my way from szeged."

"szeged? you don't live in budapest? (y/n) its two hours drive, will you be fine? should i go order uber instead?"

"yes i'll be fine lando, just drop the location."

"okay i'll send you the location."

"i'll be there as fast as i can, you keep an eye on daniel okay?"

"okay, will do. thanks (y/n). drive safely– daniel get back here!"

you cursed under your breath as you maneuver through the quiet road. thank god the tram is already stop working in this wee hours and the street is fairly quiet.

beads of sweats starting to form on your forehead as you watch your speedometer. god you really drove like a robber who got chased by the police.

you watch your navigation and gosh it still 1 hour and 20 minutes despite you driving like your life depends on it.

"fucking hell..." you said as you accelerate your car, hitting your record on the fastest you ever drove a normal car.

lando bit his lip nervously as he hold daniel, basically hugging the man from wandering away. daniel sobs quietly as he slump against lando, eyes half closed and the younger man watch in sympathy.

the reason of the man drinking carelessly was his race result today. p11, not even scoring for the team after his p5 at silverstone. lando had dnf-ed so he understand the frustration, but deep down he knew that its different for daniel.

he remember how daniel had avoided everyone like a plague, including him. so when daniel invite him to go to the club he immediately agree, only to find him already drinking and half drunk on the bar.

"where i went wrong lando?" daniel asked for the umpteenth time that night.

lando sigh as he softly rub the older's arm.

"its just one race daniel. you're not wrong at all." he said.

lando's plus one had gone to buy some mineral water as him and daniel sat down on the curb. he watch as the older man start to aggressively hit his own chest, lips pouting. the sight of drunk daniel is a little adorable. a little.

"its my fault... i'm sorry i can't score for us lando. sorry i finish empty handed."

"lan, i got the water." luisinha give the cold water bottle to lando.

"thanks lu, sorry you have to run i need to keep an eye on this baby."

luisinha laugh as she sat down beside lando, watching how daniel mumble incoherent words. "its all good... beside, he need you right now." she said, fanning daniel's face with her hand.

"what he need is (y/n) honestly," he said as he wipe the sweat on daniel's temple. "daniel, drink this." he said as he sat daniel straight, bringing the bottle close to his mouth.

daniel grumble as he open his mouth, taking the bottle of water from lando's hand and slowly emptying the bottle. some trickles of water slide to his throat.

there is a screech of tires not far from them. lando turn his head at the noise as he watch you half running to their direction. his eyes widened at the sight of you. just how fast you drove here? its only been an hour and fifteen minutes since he sent you his location.

you were wearing a white camisole and some black sweatpants, a white nike air force and hair in messy bun. lando was sure she saw you shivering a little from the cold and he watch in awe as you kneel down in front of daniel.

"is he okay?" you asked, voice trembling.

"well see it for yourself." lando said.

there are some tears stain on daniel's cheeks and your heart ache at the sight of him. you slowly caress his cheek and he lean into your touch, eyes still closed.

"you've been driving only in those? aren't you cold?" lando asked pointing your decent outfits

"yeah, it is cold. and yeah i am driving basically topless. i also run past few red lights." you answer, huffed as you lightly tap daniel's cheeks.

"what?!"

"i'll be okay. i'll pay for the fine if they caught me," you shrugged. "do you know where he stayed?"

lando nods his head as he stand. "same hotel as me, i'll lead the way. just follow my car. how fast you drive?"

"mate, you don't want to know."

"fine... i just want to know if you got that racer blood in you."

"just-help me with daniel, please." you said as you put daniel arm around your shoulder, ready to hoist him.

"hey, let me." lando said, stopping you before kneeling in front of daniel, back facing him. he swiftly move daniel arms around his shoulder.

lando hoist daniel on his back, and the sight is so bizarre. lando grunts as he walk to your car and daniel's legs drag lazily since he is significantly taller than him.

you and luisinha walk side by side ahead of the briton in comfortable silent. she had offer you lando's jacket which you politely refuse since she is also in sleeveless dress.

"sorry for ruining your date." you smile apologetically to her and she just wave you off with a smile.

"its not a big deal, really." she smile.

"(y/n) open the door–ugh–quick! he is so heavy." lando grunts and you open the passenger door.

he drop daniel down slowly before strapping the seatbelt on his body. his chest rise and fall in rapid motion as he slowly close the door of your car.

"well that's a workout." he simply mumble, hands on his hips.

"thank you lando... you don't have to do all this but you still did, i appreciate it." you said, pulling lando to a hug.

the young briton laugh as he reply your hug, patting your back gently. "no problem y/n. now, lets go before you get hypothermia." he said.

you drive slowly pass the empty road, following lando's car in silent. every now and then you stole a glance to your friend, who is sleeping rather soundly. you slowly stroke his hair since he lean towards you, almost falling from the seat.

"y/n..." daniel softly calls your name.

you stop your movement as you watch how his face seems to contort in sad emotion. he looks so hurt.

"i'm here big guy." you whisper as you return your hand to his hair.

after another help from lando, you manage to somehow put daniel on the bed. you had bid you a goodnight with luinsha before entering the building with a hug. lando, who originally insist on staying, give you a concern look.

"you sure you want me to go?" lando asked one more time as you lean on the door, hand folded in front of your chest.

"c'mon now, i've known this man even before you learn your a b c, norris." you answer, rolling your eyes at the him.

"we're not 20 years apart, y/n. in fact lewis is older than you and daniel. stop treating me like a kid." he protest.

you give him a ruffle on his hair, messing his already messed up curls. "i'll be okay, i can handle him. now go, don't make lui wait even more."

lando give you a nod as he walk away, waving at you before jogging down to his car where his date is waiting for him to return her to her hotel. you waved back at the briton, waiting for him to dissapear. as lando took a turn and gone, you close the door as you walk to daniel–who currently sprawled on the bed.

you slowly starting to take of his shoes along with his socks. carefully, you turn his body so that he lay down on his back. you take a deep breath as you carefully unbutton his tropical shirt, and you had to close your eyes for a bit.

"can i bite you instead?"

you stopped your hand as you reach the last two button of his shirt, opening your eyes to watch daniel and how his chest rise and fall slowly.

goddamit control yourself, y/n.

you bit your lower lips as you continue your task, finally manage to unbutton his shirt. you slowly move your hands, slowly undressing the man and hoping you won't disturb him.

but your breath hitched when you feel a steel grip on both of your wrist, and your eyes widened. daniel had open his eyes, staring directly into your soul with half-lidded eyes.

and you are basically on top of him, jerking your body back so you won't fall on top of him.

"y/n?" he sofly call you.

"hello big guy."

"wha- i'm-"

"you're sobering up. lemme get you some aspirin and water." you said as you slowly taking both of your hands from his grasp.

daniel drop your hands as he sat down, rubbing his eyes and and holding his pounding head. he stare down at his-now unbutton-shirt, before shedding the cloth opting to go shirtless. he aimlessly throw his shirt then laying down again, this time massaging his temple.

you took the aspirin from your bag and then walk towards daniel, not forgetting the cold water bottle.

"drink this. and please put on some shirt." you said as you rolled your eyes, handing him both the aspirin tablet and water.

"why don't you put on shirt first?" he answer, sitting down once again as he drank the tablet and washing it down with water.

"well, thanks to you, dickhead, i forgot my coat. i had to turn myself into a f1 driver just so i can get you here." you said as you sit down on the sofa, right across him.

he feel his soberness coming back to him slowly and he feel how his stomach churn. so he walk towards the bathroom, washing his face with cold water.

"you've been driving in those?" he asked, half shouting from the bathroom.

"yeah." you answer, eyes on your phone as you let out a small yawn.

"who called you to pick me up?"

"lando norris. and also what the hell man, i thought you're wasted."

"my head is still pounding y/n, i am wasted."

"well, you're sober enough to nags."

daniel took a small towels from the shelf as he look at his reflection, noticing the redness of his eyes and his tears stain. he wash his face once again, making sure he got rid his tears stain. then he make his way to your direction.

"y/n its... 3.25 a.m, aren't you cold?" daniel asked, small towel on his hand after he pat his face dry.

"m' fine." you said.

when you finally look up from your phone, your eyes instantly widen. daniel is standing in front of you, still shirtless as he look up at the ceiling. he seems to not noticing how you're struggling to look away from him as he close his eyes to flex his sore muscle.

"gosh i'm getting old, a little drink got me wasted." he said, still unaware how you are a flustered mess.

you slap his stomach, earning a grunt from your friend. he touch his stomach, shoulder hunched as he dramatically fall to the floor.

"you hurt me, i can't believe this." he said with overexagarate tone.

"just put on some goddamn clothes, ricciardo." you said as you lay down on the sofa, ignoring the dramatic aussie.

and so he did. he rose from the floor and walk to his suitcase, and taking a random t-shirt. he also taking his flannel shirt (that he didn't know he have) and throw it at you. you swiftly catch the flannel before it hit your face.

"what is this?" you asked as you open the shirt.

"its a shirt, dumbass" he said as he wear his t-shirt.

"and why you throwing this at me?"

daniel, who currently struggling with his jeans, looking at you silently. "wear that. and also turn you body, i want to take off my pants."

you rolled your eyes as you turn your body, facing at the head of the sofa as you drapped the shirt daniel gave you over your body.

"what you're hiding behind your pants anyway. its not like i'm gonna stare and oogle at your body or something, you won't affect me." you said.

"well turn around and face me then. see if i dont affect you." he challanged.

"no! what? i won't do it you creep."

"face me yourself or do you want me to flip your body myself?"

"i am not gonna face you, you bogan." you said with a huff.

truth be told you are scared of what gonna happen if you turn your body to face him. you don't know if you can see him in the same way you've seen him for this past 20 years.

but you felt his hand on your shoulder, and before you can react daniel already turn your body. you let out a gasp as you dumbly stare at daniel who is hovering you, trapping your body on the sofa.

daniel look so hot from this angle. has he always looked this good? 20 years of friendship and you just see how good-looking this man is when he hover over you?

he give you a smirk as he inching closer to your face. you can smell his perfume mixed with whiskey and you can feel his breath fanning over you.

"you said i won't affect you. but you are as red as a tomato now, y/n." he whisper, hand cradling your jaw.

"its hot in here, move away." you said, looking away from him.

red alert, this is dangerous.

"really? because i believe it is cold in here. i saw your body shivering y/n." daniel said, inching closer to your ear. you can feel his nose ghosting over your skin.

"daniel..." you called, trying to warn him.

"y/n..." he reply.

"danny you don't want to do this, you are drunk."

"but i want to. for a long time." he whisper as he nuzzle to your neck.

okay, you really need to get out of here before its too late.

"y/n, please?" he beg, lips almost attached to your neck.

he sound so desperate, so wounded, and you almost choke on your own spit.

ah screw this.

you turn your face, hands grabbing his face as you lean in for a kiss. daniel grunts as he slowly lower his body, hands immediately went to your waist. he kissed you back, finally tasting your lips after what felt like eternity.

you tilted your head when you feel his hand at the back of your thigh. he guide your leg wrap it around his waist as your body pressed together.

oh you're so screwed.

you both finally let go of the kiss, staring at each other with that mixed feeling. and with last ounce of sanity left in your body, you jerked your body up, pushing the poor daniel aside.

daniel fell with an oof, and you quickly stand up.

"this is wrong this is wrong." you mumble as you walk to the table, grabbing your purse and key.

"wait–y/n wait!" daniel said as he struggle to stand on his feet. "don't go–i'm sorry."

you basically run towards the door, opening the door harshly as daniel chase you. he calls your name but you ignore him, as you close the door behind you and immediately went for the elevator.

when the elevator door open you quickly enter and pressing the basement button. daniel was about to get you but the door is closing in.

"y/n–"

as the door finally closing, you lean on the wall before sinking to the floor. you hide your face in your hands, breath ragged from all the adrenaline rush.

"what the hell." you muttered.

as the elevator finally reach the parking lot you bolted out, quickly running towards your car. its not hard to find your car since its the only aston martin there. you quickly enter your car, revving the engine.

there is a ring from your phone and you believe that it's daniel. so you decided to ignore the call and just drove away from the hotel. you nervously bit your bottom lips, contemplating on what just happen back then.

this is not good.

prev || next

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning 

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today. 

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?” 

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”  

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one. 

But that hope was short lived. 

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case. 

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it? 

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...” 

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way. 

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through  

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration. 

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?” 

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times. 

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out. 

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you. 

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine. 

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too” 

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...” 

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.  

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?  

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”  

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?” 

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”  

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you. 

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!” 

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.  

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent. 

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere. 

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand 

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even. 

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again. 

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch. 

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty” 

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features 

“You were taking so long!”  

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short. 

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.  

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?  

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you  

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute” 

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing. 

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure. 

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but- 

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something” 

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English. 

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible. 

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.  

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain. 

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion. 

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.  

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day. 

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level. 

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window. 

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused. 

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions. 

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind. 

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that 

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that. 

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly” 

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest. 

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and- 

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this. 

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it 

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?” 

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all” 

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.  

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.  

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?” 

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add. 

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning” 

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom? 

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.  

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?  

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:  

DAD 

A due reminder that none of this is real.  

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

[bullet-prooflove]

Hey, loving your work. I was hoping as the ask box is empty I can put another ask for Scott Forrester. I think this one kinda fits him and Natalia, considering his past with Hanna. "Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you"

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @delightfulheroshoeflap @Gatefleet @fkaams

Oh this was the perfect piece to get me back into writing him. I've missed him so much!

After what happened with Hanna, it’s like Scott doesn’t exist. He becomes Forrester, a man so entirely immersed in his career that a personal life doesn’t exist. It becomes a cycle, finishing a case, starting a new one because truthfully Scott doesn’t know what to do with the time in between so he seeks out the next one and then the next one. It goes on like this for years until he meets Damien, who coaxes him out of his shell, reminds him what it’s like to have a friend again. It isn’t until that moment that he realises how closed off he’s been, how much of himself has shut down.

It gets easier after that, to make friends, to be a person again. By the time he gets to Budapest he’s starting to heal he thinks. The distance helps, no one over here knows anything about his past so he pretends it didn’t happen, that he’s not so broken inside he can’t form an actual intimate relationship. He’s tries with Jamie but there’s a disconnect. He worries after that, that he can’t form an emotional attachments. He cares about his team. He would die for any one of them but when it comes to a lover, it’s about physicality, that’s all that Scott give.

And then he meets you and his whole world starts to change. The darkness that’s been shrouding him this entire time, it starts to ease and for the first time in over a decade he can finally take a breath.

It takes four years for Scott to get his shit together and in that time the sunshine breaks through the clouds and he starts to engage with his life, he starts to live again.

 Flowers begin to grow in the darkness and before he knows it, he’s falling in love.

That’s why he kisses you that night in Rome, why he starts to court you when you return to Budapest, why he’s now standing in a jewellery shop looking at engagement rings because Scott, he’s finally ready to take the next step. He’s ready to make you his wife.

Love Scott? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thefootnotes]

LOUIS TOMLINSON LIVE

The Greatest, Live in London. Emails: NZ region.

Face The Music, Live from Nashville. Emails: Aus region.

Bigger Than Me, Live from Vancouver. Emails: India region.

Holding On To Heartache, Live from Barcelona. Emails: Some Asian regions.

We Made It, Live from Manila. Emails: Some Asian Regions

Chicago, Live from Chicago. Emails: Some African Regions

Fearless, Live from Rio De Janeiro.

Common People, Live from Sheffield

All This Time, Live from Munich.

She Is Beauty, We Are World Class, Live from Munich

Walls, Live from Buenos Aires

Written All Over Your Face, Live from Budapest

Out Of My System, Live from Brisbane

Saturdays, Live from Paris

Silver Tongues, Live from Krakow

SNIPPETS:

Some links are to the actual snippet, others are to twitter posts with the audio files/screen recordings!!

http://louistomlinson.os.fan/lt04ty1?

https://louistomlinson.os.fan/lt9uhje3?

https://louistomlinson.os.fan/lt78dn2?

https://louistomlinson.os.fan/p-lt-36-9-y-gfhf-aa?

https://louistomlinson.os.fan/11-e-r-yxzxs-a-4-12?

https://x.com/1ddailyplanet/status/1783182597281005872?s=46

NOTES:

The password required for the app, I suspect will be revealed when all emails have been sent (1AM, BST, on the 25th. 15 hours after the first emails were sent.) but I could be wrong on that front.

The QR code at the O2 just led to the presave page, by the way!

The BG Image of the puzzle is from his show in Tallin!

It’s also worth noting that the O2 video was posted on his instagram and TikTok, but the Milan video didn’t make it to Tiktok…? +LA video??

My intro post has briefly disappeared. Will be back when this man gets his shit sorted. I love him tho.

@srldesigns6277 @theydopissmeoffavocados @enchantedlandcoffee

[immediatebreakfast]

I love how Renfield is the oldest (59) and Mina is very likely the living youngest, and yet they bond so well. (It reminds me how well Mina befriended the 99 year old Mr Swales that he sought her company and felt care for her.) It probably contributed that Jack may have experience with interacting with "madmen" and studying, Mina had lived with and loved a "madman".

It's truly incredible how a simple conversation between an old man in physical cell, and a young woman in a mental cell put such a dent in the Count's plans that he had to flee to Transylvania once it was clear that nothing would stop the crew.

Even if the repercutions were huge in the narrative, in between the horror and the action it was just a visit (probably the first visit that Renfield had in a long time) to talk.

Reading again the entry I noticed how hostile Renfield is towards Mina at first,

"You're not the girl the doctor wanted to marry, are you? You can't be, you know, for she's dead." - R.M. Renfield, september 30.

and even with everything one can say about sexism, and the building infantilization of Mina, let's remember that this is the first time Renfield meets someone that is specifically associated with Jack. Renfield's remarked abuser in both authority, and personhood in general. Also by probably being informed by Dracula himself that both Mina and Jonathan are the key players in this continuous attacks against his plans in England, on top of just almost correctly assuming that Mina must share the same opinion towards the mentally ill that society has.

Three strikes against Mina that she switfly defeats by treating Renfield like the person he is, and talking to him in a normal manner. After taking care of her beloved Jonathan, and being at Lucy's side most of her life Mina is aware of how the Other is viewed. Maybe as she saw Renfield, Mina thought of a worse reality where the man on the bed was her Jonathan in Budapest, maybe she saw how Seward reacted to Renfield's words, and realized what was actually layed out in the room. Or maybe Mina just saw an old man in need of an ear, and she just listened.

This is the first time that Renfield puts a face on a victim of the Count's games, he puts a voice on the young victim whose life is going to violently end in what he thought was supposed to be eternal bliss. Lucy is a distant dream for Renfield, the revenge against these people who dared to put up a fight against this old ancient evil that goes beyond all of their years combined.

Renfield never knew Lucy, but he knows Mina now.

Renfield sees the young Mina Harker, entering life with her equal young husband in hand, and trying to solve the murder of what he knows now was her best friend, and he reflects. He reflects on everything he has done, on what has passed, and what he can do tomorrow.

Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much; I am crying when I think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful. Jonathan would be miserable if he knew I had been crying. - Mina Harker, october 2.

And the man is devastated to see how he is helping orchestrate the murder of another young lady to please the Count. He becomes desperate to leave (a request that is denied by both Seward, and Van Helsing), so the Count can't have access to the inside of the asylum. It doesn't matter if he looks like a coward by the time's literary standards because if the only way to at least save that young lady is by acting like one? Then Renfield might as well do it, he has nothing to lose sans his life.

I think that the key difference between Mina, and Jack when it comes to Renfield is empathy, and the ability to simply treat the other person with the same humanity you should be treated.

Jack may have studied, and climbed until he got to be the head of an asylum, but his own biases, mental problems, and ableism blurred the lines between patient and doctor so hard that he made Renfield's life a boring hell. From when their dynamic was introduced, to Renfield's death, the narrative dictated how Seward was putting both into a deep spiral in which, not even with Renfield's manipulations, none of them were going to come out in victory.

In contrast, Mina has cared for Jonathan without any restrain, and has lived in service of what the situation demands of her at all times. She knows, as a young victorian lady, how to balance herself without trying to compete, or win the other person in the room with her. Mina only needed to genuinely talk to Renfield to break his heart because she gave him the respect, and honestly she expects for herself when talking.

[peachjagiya]

Ok my beautiful lot, wanna help me fathom this out?

What are the chances this is actually JK?

I'm GENUINELY asking, I have no horse in the race. If anything I don't think it's him but I have seen discussion recently.

We know Tae posted this on 25th October 2023. He left for France on 23rd October.

He posted lots of pictures of Levi on their trip in Nice on the same day. One was in the Hotel Negresco in Nice. They don't have a suite with a pool.

Grand-Hotel du Cap-Ferrat Four Seasons is where this was taken from the Pool Suite:

But to me, it doesn't look like the same pool as the video, the background is a bit different.

So where was JK? 14th he flew to Budapest. 20th he arrived back in SK from Tokyo. (I can't recall what he did in that in between bit but he basically lived on planes for a while there.)

What do we think? Is this a classic Tae timejump?

Note: Just for a bit of fun. No implications being implied. I kind of hope he had a sleep while Tae was in Nice. hahaha.

[milligramspoison]

So now the portion of the tour for 2022 is over, l'd like to share my (and fan!) favorite (and iconic) moments from it :)

Sorry in advance for the long ass post :P

Europe:

Live debut of Foundations (Eden night 1)

Disappear for the first time since 2010!

Live debut of Surrender the Night <3 (my first MCR song ever so I FLIPPED when this happened)

Live debut of Boy Division!

Gerard crawling on the floor

Frank moaning in Destroya for the first time in years

FINALLY being able to hear Mikey's line in Vampire $$$

Cemetery Drive for the first time since 2012 (Eden night 2)

Only Hope for Me for the first time since 2012

Tour debut of House of Wolves

Ghost of You for the first time since 2011

Tour debut of S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Headfirst for Halos for the first time since 2009

Live debut of Mastas

The first two shows having Gerard in normal dad clothes then the third show has the bloody mess we all know as Meta Man (MK night 1)

Deathwish for the first time since 2007

Saying moan instead of actually moaning during Destroya

Bulletproof Heart for the time since 2011 <3 (MK night 2)

Ray and Gerard kissing after Destroya

“How'd you get that off my closet door”

Rat attack documentary played before the show (MK night 3)

Mikey dedicating Helena to Rowan and Kennedy <3

Cancer for the first time since 2012

Rowan dancing on stage before MCR goes on with the crowd cheering for her <3

Piss and vinegar

Tomorrow’s Money live debut (Dublin night 1)

The “fuck the queen” chant

Frank's moans during Destroya

Frank telling a fan to listen to Gerard

Frank picking up a (fake) rat

Piss on stairs (Dublin night 2)

“These are my best friends”

Fuck the queen chant round 2

Ponytail Ray

The birthday balloons for Bandit's 13th birthday (Warrington)

Gerard dedicating Teenagers to Bandit for her 13th birthday

“My little bee keeper”

Gerard cardboard cut out

Save Yourself for the first time since 2011 (Cardiff)

“I'm just giving myself an ass pat, sorry”

Frank attempting to toss a hat onto his head

Oil Gerard (Glasgow)

Na Na Na being dedicated to Grant Morrison

Sleep being dedicated to Kristan Morrison

“It's time to drink my piss”

Grant getting the drum head from the Glasgow show

Frank completely shredding it

Mikey Mouse shirt (Paris)

MERCI POUR LE VENIN

Gerard taking a leap of faith

Joke about drinking Frank’s piss

Video of the band making pancakes (Rotterdam)

Ray playing guitar with his wine glass

Fans recreating this

Mikey wearing a happy birthday Kennedy shirt for Kennedy's 3rd birthday <3 (Bologna)

The crowd singing happy birthday to Kennedy for her 3rd birthday <3

Gerard stating that they hope it won’t be a long time before they come back :)

SHORTS GATE (Munich)

Discussion of Twilight

The Da Vinki twins went to the show in Budapest

Slow clap moment

“How many of you are MCR Veterans..Trademark”

Na Na Na played a second time in Warsaw but faster

Engagement during Teenagers!!

Gerard taking down Stuart

Heaven Help Us played for the first time since 2008 (Prague)

Another mention of wanting to return

Clown Gerard (Berlin)

Story time about playing in Berlin for the first time

Hearing Frank laugh when he’s nowhere near the mic

“THEY ARE GONNA HAVE TO BURY ME IN THIS MOTHERFUCKING FILTHY CLOWN SUIT! I AM NEVER TAKING THIS OFF”

The interesting drum

Poncho Gerard (Stockholm)

“I went a little hard the other night with filth clown”

Pointing a rainbow out to Gerard

Mikey’s crooked heart <3

Pink shirt Gerard (two nights in a row in Bonn)

Admitting to googling their own lyrics (Bonn night 1)

Ray's hair being half up half down

Coughing during Destroya instead of moaning

Gerard talking about Hayley Williams

Frank watching Gerard perform Cancer (Bonn night 2)

Llama on stage (a toy but a real one would’ve been cool too)

Closing off the European portion of the tour with Cancer </3

North America:

Clown Gerard 2.0 (Oklahoma City)

Gerard laughing with sparkling water in their mouth

BURY ME IN BLACK FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2003

BEST DAY EVER FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2005

Sleep with an alternate outro

The shirt incident

“Lighten the fuck up, buttercup!”

Ray breaking his wine glass against his guitar

HANG ‘EM HIGH FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2011 (San Antonio)

Sleep with an alternate intro and different outro

Second unintentional Frerard moment

Besties moment from Ray and Mikey <3

Iero on the floor

Debut of the Sunshine intro leading into Sorrows

CHEERLEADER GERARD CHEERLEADERGATE (Nashville)

Summertime being dedicated to Kristin, Rowan, and Kennedy <3

Kristin livestreaming the show!!

Everyone (except Gerard) wearing Mikey Fuckin Way shirts!

The World Is Ugly for the first time since 2008; live debut of the studio version

Gerard almost drinking their microphone

Gerard twirling around and Ray cheering <3

Rowan and Kennedy’s drawings make their debut <3

Mikey doing a livestream prior to the show!!

Gerard singing on the floor (Cincinnati)

Frank stealing Mikey’s line in Vampire Money

SHORTS GATE 2.0 (Raleigh)

Gerard's story time about Bandit trying to make advil m&ms

Everybody Hates The Eagles live debut (kinda)

LIVE DEBUT OF BURN BRIGHT

Gerard in a bloody eyepatch

Gerard shushing the crowd (jokingly) so they can take advil

Sleep with an extended outro (Elmont)

Shorts for the second night in a row

Everybody Hates The Eagles for the second night in a row

Weird ass mask debut

Two fans wearing Petekey shirts

And someone else had the Petekey arm notes written on them

Anddddd two other people had matching Frerard shirts

Shorts for the third night in a row (Philadelphia)

Vampires for the first time since 2012!!

Pool Boy at the Vampire Mansion <3

Gerard calling Mikey Lil Mikey

Debut of the mystery shirts

Sunshine intro leading into FLW (Albany)

Shorts for the fourth night in a row

Mikey watching Waterparks perform

Priest/bloody eyes Gerard (Uncasville)

Eagles returns to the setlist

Ray and Mikey brushing their teeth before the show

Sunshine intro but with S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Skeleton Gerard (Toronto night 1)

CAUSE IM HER KIND OF GIRL AND SHES MY KIND OF BOY

Mikey wearing the happy birthday Goose shirt (Goose is what he calls his mother in law)

CAT GERARD (Toronto night 2)

Frank attempting to kick Mikey (jokingly)

Black Swan Gerard (Boston night 1)

Wholesome picture of Ray and Christa <3

Ray and Gerard colliding then hugging

Best Day Ever being dedicated to Thursday (Boston night 2)

Mikey blowing a kiss to Kristin <3

Frank wearing a headpiece

Ray rocking out with his sons <3

Crowd singing happy birthday to Mikey!! (NYC night 1)

Mikey dedicating Helena to Rowan and Kennedy again <3

Everyone except Gerard wearing Mikey Fuckin Way shirts for Mikey's birthday!

Drum is a Mikey shrine for Mikey's birthday

“How ‘bout you birthday boy?”

Fans wearing party hats for Mikey’s birthday

Gerard wearing the outfit he wore when he witnessed 9/11 (just a special moment honestly; NYC night 2)

DESERT SONG FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2008

Lily pointing Mikey out to Rowan <3

Frank crossing himself during Sorrows

Bathroom photoshoot

Gerard’s story time about running into one of the openers while with Bandit

Frank posting a picture of his ass and getting a ass tattoo (Detroit)

NURSE GERARD

Hey Chris in Detroit

“Lucky for him…I had other plans.”

Crossing out Cancer for Helena (not a favorite or iconic, just offensive lol this is a joke dw)

Hawaiian shirt Way Brothers (St. Paul)

Teenagers being dedicated to Gerard's mailman

Bullet hole makeup

Jackie O Gerard at Riot Fest

Wholesome Jamia moment from the LS Dunes set <3

Wholesome family moment from Frank during Weezer's set <3

Hey Chris at Riot Fest

Frank wearing a bandana around his neck

Frank facetiming his dad just before his set with LS Dunes <3

Mikey watching TBS (Taking Back Sunday) perform

CROP TOP GERARD (Alpharetta)

Teenagers was dedicated to the band's crew

MIKEY WORE EYELINER

First of the hometown shows and Gerard performed with Thursday!! (NJ night 1)

BAT GERARD

I NEVER TOLD YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2008

Best Day Ever with Geoff of Thursday

DEMOLITION LOVERS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2004

Frank Sinatra Gerard (NJ night 2)

PLANETARY GO FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2012

Teenagers was dedicated to Midtown

Cover of Frank Sinatra's My Way

Cherry taking a pic/recording Mikey :)

Miles getting excited when Frank said “trust me” <3

Gerard performing with Thursday

Gabe being one of the reasons why FOB8 is Pete’s villain origin story (iykyk)

BLOUSE GERARD!! (Firefly)

The entire band signs a mannequin leg

“You'll get this at the end of class”

Ghost Gerard!! (Sunrise)

Gerard took the trans flag during WTTBP <3

Frank going out on stage with HGP

Mikey going out on stage with Midtown

Gerard being unable to pronounce Florida

Ended off the east coast portion of the tour with Cancer </3

Dress in Houston!!

“I thought about wearing a dress in Texas before...but that's a story for another time”

Ray posting a peanut with a penis after the show

Mikey going out on stage with Midtown (again)

The return of dad clothes in Dallas

Teenagers was dedicated to the opening acts

“Get fucked at an airport bar”

Mikey wearing a Midtown shirt

Dad clothes again in Denver

Frank interacting with his kiddos <3

Teenagers was dedicated to Sydney

Adam of Taking Back Sunday said opening for MCR was the only way to get Mikey to return his calls

Ray moaning during Planetary Go

“Just sit back, daddy’s gonna take you where you need to go” Adam Lazzara, 2022 (Portland)

Gerard dedicating Teenagers to Taking Back Sunday

Gerard grabbing their phone to look at something

Tomato soup…hm

“Your turn!”

Meta Man cardboard cut out (Tacoma)

Sign for Gerard’s two cats, Mitch and Lotion

Frank going on stage with Kimya

Meredith and Andy went to the show!!!

“Cause if you think Mikey fuckin Way is coming out here to a cold audience, you’re mistaken”

VACUUM GUY AT THE VAMPIRE MANSION

RAY IN A PONYTAIL AGAIN

Teenagers was dedicated to Panda (Kimya’s daughter)

Gerard simping for Robert Pattinson in Batman

Gerard wearing a Twilight shirt

One of Frank’s kiddos giving a fan a paper set list

Smiley face drumhead! (Oakland)

Cum sign

Idk why someone did this but yeah

“Ray and I’s home state. We’ve lived here for...14 years?”

“I see a lot more flesh than usual. It’s fleshy out there”

Mikey and Frank almost bumping into each other before Skylines

Gerard chasing the tech off stage

Singing happy birthday to Worm

Mikey petting Worm’s beard

Gerard in an all black outfit with a rose (Vegas)

Ray rocking out with his sons <3

Ray patting his son’s head <3

Gerard dedicating Teenagers to Bandit again <3

KRISTIN WENT LIVE AGAIN

The drum was for Bandit <3

Engagement during Helena!!

Mikey having a random book signing (Aftershock)

Crowd surfing a…a sex doll during the LS Dunes set

Frank attempting to do a bottle flip at the end of the LS Dunes set

Ray, Jamia, and Frank’s kiddos watching Frank from side stage <3

Gerard’s shirt saying scabs

Gerard gagging on the microphone

The drum saying choke me which goes perfectly with the point above

A deer running around during WTTBP

THEY SOUNDCHECKED DESOLATION ROW (LA night 1)

GERARD WITH A FLAMETHROWER

CHEERLEADER DRESS IS BACK

“This song is about my favorite fucking human” spotlight proceeds to go onto Frank

Gerard got a haircut

THE SHOW WAS FILMED

Teenagers being dedicated to Quentin Tarantino

DESOLATION ROW FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2011

Mikey with his family during I’m Not Okay <3

GERARD COSPLAYING PRINCESS DIANA (LA night 2)

I Never Told You being dedicated to glow in the dark skeleton man

“DO YOU HAVE THE KEYS TO THE LAMBORGHINI BECAUSE IM GONNA DRIVE THAT MOTHERFUCKER INTO A TARGET”

Dedicating Teenagers to a fan

Frank singing Teenagers to Lily <3

Frank hugging one of the twins prior to encore <3

Frank waving to his kids prior to Foundations <3

THEY SOUNDCHECKED ALL THE ANGELS (LA night 3)

THEY SOUNDCHECKED I DON’T LOVE YOU

THE SHOW IS BEING FILMED AGAIN

Foundations being dedicated to Doug </3

I DON’T LOVE YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2019

Teenagers dedicated to a random fan again

KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2008

WTTBP being dedicated to Doug’s wife and kids </3

ALL THE ANGELS LIVE DEBUT

THEY SOUNDCHECKED SING (LA night 4)

GERARD IS DRESSED AS DRACULA

Teenagers being dedicated to Bandit for the third time as well as dedicating it to her friends <3

Bandit attending the show with her friends

RAY SLAPPING GERARD’S ASS AGAIN

Ghost of You in the encore!!

Mikey bringing Rowan on stage for Kids <3

Rowan making heart hands at the crowd <3

THEY SOUNDCHECKED SISTER TO SLEEP TWICE (LA night 5)

VACUUM GUY COSPLAYING GERARD

SISTER TO SLEEP FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2003

SING FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE 2012

Teenagers dedicated to the crew

Dinosaur in the pit

GERARD HAS WRITING ON THEIR ARM

FRANK POSSIBLY WROTE ON GERARD’S ARM

LIVE DEBUT OF FAKE YOUR DEATH

Gabe’s son having to be “evicted” during Midtown’s opening set

Ray rocking out with his son during Kids <3

Gerard throwing fake insects to the fans

The final bow </3

Luigi cosplayer comforting emos at the first day of WWWY (cause it was canceled)

Katy Perry welcoming the orphans/emo kids to her Vegas residency show due to the first day of WWWY being canceled

Katy bringing an emo kid on stage with her and starting a mosh

THEYRE ALL IN THEIR REVENGE OUTFITS (WWWY night 2)

FACIAL PROSTHETICS

Opened with I’m Not Okay!

BAT BUCKLE

MIKEY HAS BLOOD ON HIS FACE

FRANK WENT BALD

CONFETTI WAS LITERAL VAMPIRE MONEY

Secretary of Salmonella

Gerard misaddressing the crowd as Utah

First time Foundations isn’t on the setlist since it was released (not a favorite or iconic, just really strange cause we’re all so used to it every night lol)

Frank walking onto the stage like an actual old man

Gerard flipping the crowd off before the show even started

Hayley (from Paramore) mentioning and thanking MCR <3

Person who did their prosthetics last weekend is back! (WWWY night 3)

Adam from TBS sitting on a whole ass person (ik it’s not MCR but it’s too funny to not include)

Foundations returned to the setlist!

Gerard dressed as an army general

GERARD WORE LIPSTICK

OPERA MUSIC BETWEEN SONGS

Mikey wearing the Kristin Fuckin Way shirt <3

GERARD GOT A MEDAL

GERARD BROKE THE MIC STAND AT THE END

Closing off their final US show with Kids </3

Jamia, Kristin, and Christa taking a photo with each other <3

MCR’s first time in Mexico since 2008!

Another sex doll for some reason

“You look good today baby boy” Anthony to Frank during LS Dunes’ set

GERARD IS JOAN OF ARC

Gerard spelt fuego wrong

GERARD SPOKE SPANISH

“WATCH ALL THE SHIT YOU DO”

Mikey winked and smirked at the camera

Gerard playing a telephone sound

FILMING NOTICE BEFORE MAMA

Gerard shouting out Frank and the rest of Dunes <3

NEW INTRO BEFORE FLW

Gerard got an axolotl plushie <3

Ending the North American tour and the final show of 2022 with Kids </3

If you’ve made it this far, first of all, hi! Secondly, ty for looking through this haha.

I’ll probably do this again when they’re in Australia, New Zealand, and Japan next year, so stay tuned! :)

[airisu7425]

Free! the Final Stroke - Budapest pilgrimage part 1

After being in love with Free! for 10 years now and visiting Iwami 3x already (soon it will be the 4th time) - you cannot imagine how surreal it felt when I heard about the Budapest part when the movie was released last year. Thanks to @fencer-x​ who confirmed many details and directed me to Japanese Twitter users (39_Free and Ladyoscar_1990) who actually found the exact location of the HaruRin train crossing and the little shop where Rin met Ai - I could visit the places quite quickly, living in Budapest myself. This particular post focuses on Makoto’s parts - Keleti Railway Station (I pass it 2x a day on my way to work and back), the Fisherman’s Bastion in the Castle district, the No 41 tram (they don’t use the same type of vehicle on that line anymore, so I went to Deák square to take photos of the type shown in the movie), the lower quay on the Buda side, the Chain bridge from the Pest side (it’s still under renovation and probably the red bench where Makoto and Haru sits and talks won’t be there after the reveal...) and last but not least the Parliament (photo take from the Castle district). Anyone who needs exact locations and addresses, just send me a DM!

I was super lucky with the weather - could take almost the exact same shots as were shown in the movie.