#We’re beautiful like germans in the sky

[hetalia-repostblog]

DAY 16 - Germany ( All mighty Doitsu.. ✨ )

What a beautiful eye there you have sir..HEHE Germany has such a handsome face though

[ajthefujoshi]

Happy Birthday Toto!

In my country it's already January 12, I'm early.

Author's Note: certain inaccuracy of information about the picture attached. I just decided to make it up. Inaccurate use of German words as well, used Google Translate. Anyway, enjoy.

You were sorting out loose pictures you have in a box as your enjoying the last bits of freedom before the season starts once again. It’s filled with a lot personal memories accumulated through the years and never got the chance to sort it because of your busy schedule. Some were pictures of the kids, holidays with the whole family and some are your sweet and goofy pictures of Toto. You kept a lot of them as he is such a beautiful subject to take a photo of, no matter how much he says he’s not.

As you were skimming through, you came across one that makes you smile so much. It was a photo of Toto smiling so big that his eyes were scrunched up so cutely. You’re so glad to have snapped that moment, it was from 2013 at Monza after being interviewed by Sky Sports. You just started your career as an F1 photographer then and you by chance saw him and called him to say hi and he gave that massive grin, that smile that made your heart beat so fast and lived in your mind rent free for months.

While you were looking at the photo, Toto came to the room and saw you, smiling, wondering what got you in that mood, then he saw the photo of him and remembered that moment as well. In his point of view, he has seen you around the paddock since you stepped foot during the start of the season. He was enchanted with your beauty and simplicity, the beautiful smile on your face and the way your eyes sparkle when you get to see something beautiful or interesting. He had been meaning to talk to you, but, he’s always busy with the sponsors, team members asking for his feedback and being swarmed by reporters. But there’s also hesitation on his part as he’s also shy, he still thinks he’s not that attractive to the ladies. Little did he know when you guys started chatting.

“You have a copy of that.” Toto came in and sat beside you on the sofa.

“Yeah, I really love it and decided to keep one for myself.” You replied.

“It’s the picture that started it all.” He reminisced.

“Who would’ve thought, that this would lead to where we are now, many years later.” Giggling back.

“I really wanted to talk to you but we’re so busy and I was shy.” Toto recalled.

“I didn’t really think you were shy, because, you’re so tall and have a strong aura around you. But as they say, there’s more than what you see on the outside.” You murmured.

“I thought you were going to reject me or something, but then I see in your eyes that maybe, there’s hope for me after all. What I wasn’t expecting is you falling hard and genuinely in love for me as a person and not for what I have.” He explained.

“You know that your wealth was just a bonus. What I love about you are genuine about yourself, unapologetic and honest, being a great father to the children and your kindness to people that mattered to you.” You enumerated.

“I love you as a person, the stability you give me and to our family even when you thought it’s not going well. That’s what I love about you.” You continued.

“And I thank you every day for reminding me Liebling. Thank you for being there for me, for accepting Benedict and Rosa as your own and for being a wonderful mother to our little ones. You gave me another chance to believe in love when I thought I’d never have it again.” Toto said and hugging you tightly.

You were hugging each other and the thought popped in your head, “And here I thought you’d never like me.” Laughing at the thought.

“Life is such a mystery sometimes; you just don’t know what will come and hit you.” He mused.

“It sure does.” You replied.

You continued hugging for some more and then you looked at your watch and the time is twelve midnight, a smile creeped at your face. You pulled away, looking at him.

“It’s twelve midnight, Alles Gute zum Geburtstag Lieber. Ich liebe dich.” You greeted him with a smile on your face.

“Danke Liebling. You and our family will always be the best present I ever received in my life.” He kisses your lips tenderly.

As you pulled away, and continued to give each other pecks, you decided to continue to look at the photo and giggle. Finishing the tender moment, you asked for his help to sort more of the pictures to be put on the album that you have been itching to finish. A moment for you two to cherish before the chaos of life and new season begins.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

COOKIE JAR!

when a new bakery opens up in your small town, both its indescribable pastries and michael kaiser, the ridiculously attractive patissier, become the talk of the town. you love chowing down on a little treat yourself, worn out from your responsibilities, although that comes at the cost of bravely fending off a certain lovestruck pastry chef...

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): patissier au

Life was all about balance. This was a lesson you learned very quickly once you entered the working world, the world of functional adults, the world of corporatism and responsibilities. You never had any real qualms with your job: it paid well, your work was never too much, and your coworkers were all pleasant.

But even then, it still meant that every night you clocked out of your office to go home, fatigue clung to your body in the same incessant way the bitter aftertaste of coffee clung to your mouth in the morning.

Life was truly about the silver lining. The details. The finer things in life. It was the reason why you focused so much on treating yourself for even the smallest things. In the great scheme of the universe and the inevitable march of time, the only thing that truly ever mattered was the joy you could wring out from your drab life.

And that was where Patisserie Munchen stepped into your life.

The newly built bakery had become the talk of the town overnight. You avoided the opening days for a while, knowing that the curious customers would overrun the bakery. You settled for your usual coffeeshop and treats, letting the initial huzzah of the shiny new patisserie wear off before you even stepped foot into it. 

But you still heard a lot about it. Your coworker gushed about how utterly delicious the pastries were, made with a skillfully trained hand that the knock offs at Starbucks simply couldn’t compare to! Even on your lunch breaks, you couldn’t help but peep the flyers boasting the pretty German bakery: a foreign delicacy that was unlike anything in your quaint middle-of-nowhere neighborhood.

What you overheard the most was not about the patisserie’s baked goods nor even the exoticness of it (or at the very least, the most exotic a goddamn German bakery could get), but it was about the owner and the man behind it all. 

The patissier himself. 

“Oh, he’s such a beaut!” Your coworker’s mother had bashfully admitted when you dropped by for dinner one day. “All the women in town are gushing about him! He’s so tall and handsome, with the most gorgeous German accent you’ve ever heard. He’s from Germany, you know. It wouldn’t hurt if a young thing like you were to catch his eye. I don’t think he’s that far off in age from you.”

Geh. You bit back a wave of disgust at the memory. That had been months ago, and your feet now instinctually led you in the direction of Patisserie Munchen the very instant you were done with your work for the day. The night sky hung heavy above you, and when you approached the small building, it was empty and illuminated like a lonely lighthouse in the distance.

And like you did every night, you braced yourself as you opened the door.

“Daaaaaaaaaarling!” A familiar voice broke your peace the moment you stepped into the patisserie. Red hot annoyance shot through your body. If only you weren’t so hooked on the delicious bread here, you would have abandoned this patisserie a long time ago.

“Don’t call me that,” you brusquely grunted. “People are going to think we’re dating.”

“Well, if that’s an issue, we can always start dating. That way it won’t bother you anymore, ja?”

You picked up a tray and a pair of tongs, deadpanning at the beautiful man. The only thing on your mind right now was stuffing some pastries in your face and filling up your very empty stomach before going home to unwind after a long work day. “Maybe in another life, Kaiser.”

Most of the bread boxes were empty at this point, which was customary practice. For a patisserie this high in demand, it was only natural that everything were to sell out before the end of the day. The only things that were left behind were some few straggling pieces of bread and the example cakes stacked high in the display shelves.

Which, also notably, besides a handful of birthday cakes and whatnot, were all stuffed to the brim with exquisitely decorated wedding cakes.

(You asked Ness, Kaiser’s assistant, about the cakes once. 

“You guys sure make a lot of wedding cakes,” you laughed weakly, eyeing the three-tiered cake in the display window. As much as you hated to admit it, it was beautiful. Captivating to the eye and alluring to the imagination, it was evident that a skilled hand had poured a lot of time and love into hand-frosting every laborious detail on the cake. “Is there a lot of weddings happening or something?”

Ness paused, and he thought for a second. “Not particularly. This place is a small town, so if there was a wedding taking place, I’m sure you would know.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Huh. Then is this just for show?”

“In a way.” Ness boasted endlessly about the rigorous schooling Kaiser had gone through. He had graduated as a prodigy from one of the most prestigious baking schools in Germany, and finessed work like this was his specialty. Ness droned on and on about how Kaiser was nothing like those amateur pastry chefs who could only churn out average cakes and that his boss was truly like an emperor in the kitchen, commanding ingredients to become his subjects and crafting them into the stronghold that he envisioned.

You stood there listening to him go on and on, not necessarily having the heart to cut him off. “T-That’s fantastic, Ness!”

“As for the wedding cakes…,” the young man had hummed. He grinned at you sweetly. “Consider it a kind of subliminal messaging of sorts?”

And that was when you knew you needed Kaiser dead expeditiously.)

“Here, darling.” Kaiser gestured for you to come closer to the counter. You eyed him suspiciously until he reached down and brought forth an already prepared tray, stuffed to the heavens with all sorts of different breads and pastries. 

Some were filled with jam and cream, others decorated with generous helpings of cheese and veggies… Just looking at them made your mouth water. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, and Kaiser grinned proudly when he noticed you making a beeline for them.

“I set some aside just for my favorite patron,” he sang, watching you pick out the ones you wanted. “I wasn’t sure which ones you’d want, so I saved a little bit of everything for you. Aren’t I so sweet and kind and perfect husband material?”

You stopped for a moment to glare at him. 

You hated how right the gossip was. You couldn’t deny the fact that Kaiser had a horrible personality: conceited, arrogant, downright rude at times. But he was gorgeous, breathtaking just like his handmade cakes. With hair the same color as silken-spun gold and eyes as blue and refreshing as a sunny day sky, Kaiser was truly like a breath of fresh air in the drab monotone of the corporate life that had a chokehold on you. Even the way he was dressed, with a small apron tied around his waist and a white shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top of his chest, was nothing like the colorless business casual that dragged on your eyes daily.

You refused to give into his antics. “How much do I owe you for the bread?”

He winked seductively. “I could give it to you for free in exchange for a kiss.”

This bastard…! You gritted your teeth as heat unconsciously flooded your face, and you pouted as you did your best to keep your cool. You dug around in your pocket to bring out your wallet, and you wiggled in exaggeratedly in his face.

“I’m paying with this. With money,” you stressed. Kaiser shrugged, refusing to let go of the playfulness in his expression. He rang you up, lovingly placing all the bread inside a pretty little bag, complete with a blue ribbon and a small blue rose sticker that complemented the tattoo tracing up his arm and neck.

“For someone who claims to hate me so much, you still visit me everyday,” he added on, handing the bag to you. Your stomach turned at the sickly sweet tinge in his voice, and he leaned over the counter again, posing himself perfectly so that you could catch a generous glimpse of his toned chest and muscled arms. He had bragged to you once about how it was all natural muscle made from years and years of kneading dough. “It almost makes you look like you’re in love with me.”

You almost dropped the bag.

What audacity! What depravity! What indolence!

“Of all the things, you could accuse me for,” you took a deep breath and shook your head, “Falling in love with you is definitely not one of them. As if anyone could fall for someone as annoying as you!”

He shrugged cheekily, his golden hair tumbling over his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m pretty popular around these bits. You’ve seen my admirers. I’d say you’re a pretty lucky one, to have a man as in-demand as me chasing after you. C’mon, darling…”

He batted his eyes up at you. Again, your body crawled with a sick mixture of both disgust and desire at the sight. You hated him, and you hated how attractive he was. You hated his stupidly lowered sexy eyes, and you hated the apple-like flush of his milky skin. You hated the cherry-pink color of his lips, and you hated the way his body made your heart jump up to your throat whenever he moved the slightest bit.

No. No—you had to keep your calm! You couldn’t give in, couldn’t let him win so easily. You were a rational person, and it was this level-headedness of yours that had gotten you this far in your adult life. 

“If your bread wasn’t so goddamn delicious,” you muttered, swallowing thickly, “I would have found another bakery to go to. I’ll admit that you’re this skilled. More than anywhere else by a long shot. But don’t delude yourself! If it weren’t for your bread, I would never come here!”

Kaiser hummed at your declaration, and he pinched a lock of his hair in between his fingers, absentmindedly twirling it around his knuckles. You watched with your heart bundling up into a quivering stack of nerves as a coy smile bloomed across his lips, and he laughed at you with a voice so sweet that you could only describe it as angelic.

“Well, darling, if it’s my bread you like so much…,” he chuckled, shaking his head at you as if he was chastising a young child rather than making coherent conversation with a fully grown adult customer. “We really should get married!”

“HUH????????”

“It’s not that difficult to follow, don’t you think?” He gleefully explained. “If we get married, I’ll bake bread for you every day! I’ll feed you a delicious breakfast and package up a pretty lunch for you to take to your cute day job, and when you come home, I’ll welcome you in my arms with a feast fit for a beautiful monarch! That way you get to eat my bread to your heart’s content, and I can quit coveting you and take you up as my beloved darling that I’ll dote over for the rest of my life!”

You gawked at him. “You’re- You’re insane…!”

“All great things come from a bout of madness, sweet love,” he giggled. “Mull it over while you go home, okay? You’re going to come back to buy more bread tomorrow, aren’t you? Oh, don’t make that face—I know you will. I’ll ask you every day until you say yes! And then we can be the happiest couple ever!”

You turned on your heel, unable to stop your heart from pounding wildly against your chest or your face from flushing and heating up uncontrollably at Kaiser’s shameless courtship. “G-Goodnight, Kaiser…! I’m going home!”

He wiggled his fingers at you in a mocking goodbye, smiling all-too-knowingly to himself. “Goodnight, my future love! I’ll bake lots more delicious bread for you tomorrow as well~”

x

[childotkw]

Oh my gosh, i love your AUs SO MUCH!! I was wondering, for the Off the Beaten Path AU, can we have a snippet of Harry being oblivious/distracted and Albus and Gellert silently fighting for Harry?

Thanks darling 🥰🥰

—————————

It was a peaceful day, Harry mused as he lay back in the sun-warmed grass. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth that was burrowing under his skin, and breathed in the scent of the wildflowers that filled the field he was in.

It had been years since he had had the chance to simply…exist. To soak in the world without the suffocating weight of the world on his shoulders. And sure, this misadventure in the past was not ideal - but it was also the first time in his recent memory where he wasn’t being hounded by what seemed like everyone in the world with even the vaguest opinion on his life and what he should or should not be doing.

Instead, all he had to contend with was two young men that would someday grow up to be legends.

Peaceful.

Or at least it had been for a few minutes, because Harry could hear two familiar voices carry over the breeze. One with a subtle Scottish brogue, and another very heavily German.

It had been one of the biggest surprises, actually. That Dumbledore as a young man did not possess the same polished, soft manner of speech Harry had come to know.

Surprising, and somewhat hilarious.

Even now, Harry’s lips were twitching. Listening to Albus and Gellert - because they were Albus and Gellert to him now, rather than Dumbledore and Grindelwald - argue never got old, if only because their clashing accents was endlessly entertaining, and both had the habit of their speech thickening when they got frustrated, which just led to more confusion and misunderstandings.

He sat up, spotting the two men walking towards him briskly. Albus was in front, one arm shoving Gellert away while the other cradled something behind his back protectively. Gellert, seemingly forgetting he was a wizard, was flailing his limbs to try and claim whatever it was.

Harry cocked his head, arms braced on his knees as he waited for them to reach him.

“Harry!” Albus exclaimed, blue eyes shining brighter than the clear sky. He shoved Gellert one last time, hard enough to topple the other, and put in a burst of speed, leaving Gellert behind and skidding to a stop before him.

“Albus,” he returned, amused.

“I made something for you,” Albus said, beaming and ignoring the loud cursing of Gellert as the blond struggled to his feet. “Here.”

Harry blinked at the flower crown presented to him. It was well-made, tightly wound and with an array of bright flowers decorating it.

“Oh, wow, thank you,” he said, reaching out to take the offering, only for Albus to hold it out of reach with a growing grin.

“Allow me,” the redhead teased, leaning down to plop the crown on Harry’s head. Satisfaction blossomed over his face as he stood back up and placed his hands on his hips. “You look stunning, like one of the fae.”

Harry laughed, gently touching the crown and raising his eyebrow at the joke. “Thank you, Albus - it’s beautiful.”

“It’s a bunch of dead plants, hardly something to write home about,” Gellert groused as he finally reached them. His expression twisted oddly when he spotted Harry though - a weird mixture of approval and distaste.

“You come up with something then,” Albus shot back, a smile with teeth on his face.

“I could beat any stupid gift you make easily,” Gellert hissed under his breath, as if that would somehow hide his words from Harry when he was sitting right in front of them.

“Well go on then,” Albus said, waving an obliging hand as if conceding the stage to his friend. “We’re waiting.”

Harry saw this devolving very quickly. Already a red flush was working its way over Gellert’s pale cheeks. He knew denying Gellert’s attempts would led to an argument, so Harry took the path of least resistance. “I would love anything you gave me, Gellert,” he assured, hoping to cut through some of the strange animosity these two seemed to have.

[superm4ks]

Completed [max/daniel] published on 2022-01-08

Alternate universe - non famous, alternate universe - mechanics, Jammy and Sassy, cat dad max, neighbors, Monte Carlo [derogatory], resolved sexual tension, slow burn, internalized biphobia, eventual smut, balconies

mon voisin

Chapter 1

“Are your neighbors always so noisy?” Isabelle asks him. Daniel shrugs.

“Upstairs?” She nods. “No, I don’t think so. They must’ve moved in this week or something.”

He settles back against the couch and puts his legs on her lap. She immediately pushes them off, and Daniel figures she’s too warm. He fetches the remote and turns on Sky Sports.

Last time Isabelle came over, she made him watch a documentary about a man who quite literally wanted to fuck an octopus, and then got upset with him because he pointed out the man wanted to fuck the octopus. Like, he’s not judging. People are weird. Love is weird.

“Daniel.”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

“The noise doesn’t bother you?”

“What noise?”

She doesn’t reply and Daniel looks her to find her staring back at him, a slight twitch to her left eye. “Yeah, I can’t do this.” She gets up. “We are done.” She announces. Daniel blinks.

“We’re done? Wait, what? Why? Izzy?”

Isabelle looks at him like he’s insane, which is not an unfamiliar sight. Maybe he should’ve seen this coming. “Why? Do you even like me?”

“Of course I like you.”

Isabelle groans and throws her hands up. “Oh my God, of course. Au revoir, Daniel.”

“I’ll … call you?” Daniel offers.

“Non, merci!"

Daniel watches her leave, and it’s not until the door slams closed behind her that he realizes he didn’t even move from where he was slumped over the couch pillows. That was rude of him. That probably didn’t help things.

Right. Well.

He looks up at the ceiling. After a second, Daniel hears it. The sound of footsteps stumping around, something crashing to the floor, loud meowing.

Then, a muffled, heavily accented, “Fuck off! No, fuck off! What are you doing?” followed by a barrage of words in a language Daniel doesn’t recognize. Maybe German.

More meowing. More stumping.

Daniels snorts despite himself. He doesn’t remember seeing a moving truck, or anyone new loitering around the stairs. But then again, he hasn’t been home a lot lately. The Garage always gets swamped in May. Gran Prix and all. Lots of tourists from all across Europe doing long drives for the first time.

Isabelle was a nice girl. Those were a nice three weeks. It’s the longest relationship he’s had this year.

“Christ.” Daniel murmurs.

He steps outside into the balcony and breathes in the late afternoon breeze. The sun is setting on the Mediterranean Sea, and the sky has mellowed into a soft pink and orange. Another beautiful day in the French Riviera.

Another beautiful day of being a fucking nobody.

A loud meow startles Daniel out of his (normal and healthy) thoughts. He tilts his head back and catches sight of an exotic-looking cat perched on the windowsill right above him. The cat is peering down at him like it’s wondering what Daniel’s problem is. “Hello.” Daniel says. The cat meows, and Daniel grins. “Enchanté.”

He’s not a cat person, at all, but this one is very pretty. The cat tilts its head, stretches its neck a little further out, and Daniel thinks, shit. “No, no, no.” He mumbles, at the same time the same voice from before says, a lot clearer:

“Listen. Listen, I’m not going to get you if you fall.”

The guy—or kid, he must be young with a voice like that, definitely younger than Daniel—has a lisp. Daniel is hit by the strange, irrational urge to yell at him to come closer to the window.

The cat gives Daniel one last look, Daniel waggles his eyebrows, because who gives a shit, and then the cat’s little head vanishes back inside. The window shutters are closed, quite abruptly, but not before Daniel hears a much gentler, “Gek meisje.”

The kid is so fucking loud.

If it’s not the cats (there’s more than one, Daniel has figured out as much), it’s the video games until sunrise, which often result in abrupt avalanches of swearing or equally disconcerting laughter that sounds like someone tap dancing on a chew toy.

Sometimes, when Daniel is really lucky, he gets a combination of both: the cats and the video games and the kid swearing at the cats to get off my fucking TV, you assholes.

Great stuff.

Two weeks into Daniel’s new cat-infused reality, he meets a six-foot bombshell who looks at him from across the bar like she wants to put him in a pretzel. Daniel is gross, still in his work overalls, covered in dirt and oil, but some people are into that, and he figures she’s one of them.

Unfortunately, she’s American, and funny, which means they end up talking a lot, drinking even more, and by the time Daniel feels like taking her home, he also feels like passing out cold for twelve hours. He leaves her to her friends, throws back one last shot, and calls it a night.

Lando gasps like Daniel just became a monk.

“No, c’mon! C’mon, you had it. She’s so hot.” He whines. He puts a hand on Daniel’s forehead, then grabs Kimi’s hand and puts his hand on Daniel’s forehead. “Does he feel warm to you?”

“Ha-ha.” Daniel deadpans. Kimi takes off his hand, gently, and shakes his head.

“Just old.” He declares.

Daniel snorts.

“You literally killed the dinosaurs, mate.” He says. Kimi raises his pint in a mock-toast.

“So, wait, are you still upset about your last girl, then? The biologist?” Lando presses. Lando reminds Daniel of himself when he was younger. He’s a lot nicer than Daniel was at his age, though. Lando showed up to the Garage with nothing but a backpack and a smile, and no one faulted Seb for taking him in.

“No, little Nando.” Daniel sighs. Isabelle was right. He didn’t even like her that much. “I’m honestly just tired, yeah?” He cracks a grin and knocks his knee into Lando’s under the table. “Some of us don’t get to fix one 125cc and then fuck around in the break room for the rest of the day, you bloody bludger.” He teases, and Lando actually blushes.

“Not true.”

“Yes true. I saw it, it was one Vespa, mate.”

“It was a GTS, those are 300cc! The radiator was baked, I had to—”

“You are tired because of the piece of shit neighbor and his demon cats.” Kimi interrupts. Daniel’s laughter at Lando’s indignation slowly dissolves into a chuckle, and he shrugs. He mentioned his new neighbor to his coworkers during a difficult overhaul of a BMW engine, mostly to make them laugh.

“Maybe, maybe. Either way, I’m out of this dump, fuck both of you.” Daniel gets up and the world only spins a respectable amount. He claps Kimi on the back and pinches Lando’s cheek. “I’ll see you next Monday, messieurs.”

“Oi, do you mind if I go talk to her?” Lando asks, rubbing at his cheek with one hand and motioning at the LA girl with the other. He’s so cute. Daniel almost wants to tell him no, just to spare his feelings.

“Not at all, my friend.” Daniel says, and throws up a salute. “Watch out for the brave soldier out there, Iceman.”

Kimi, a married father of two, takes the tiniest sip of his second pint. “No.”

The fifteen minute walk home is enough to sober him up a bit. The night’s warm and pleasant in a way it would never be back in Perth this time of the year, and Daniel gets to have his ego stroked by a group of partygoers who giggle past him and squeal when he throws them kisses.

It’s around 1 a.m. by the time Daniel stumbles inside his apartment, and he feels like every inch of his body is going to spontaneously vaporize. He’s glad he cut things short with the LA girl. That would’ve been a disappointing performance.

God, he really needs a good night’s sleep.

Daniel drinks some water, washes off the oil and dirt as best as he can and face plants directly into his bed. It’s only as he’s rubbing his bare legs up and down the cool mattress that he notices the silence.

Complete and utter, glorious silence. He can’t even hear tiny paws sputtering across the wooden boards.

He almost wants to cry. Daniel hugs his pillow and closes his eyes with a big, manic grin on his face. It doesn’t last. Why would it last.

The first creak of a bed frame rocking on its hinges is sudden, and loud enough to startle him awake. Daniel’s eyes flash open, his smile vanishes. After a few seconds, there’s more creaking, again and again, joined by the distinct, unmistakable rhythm of skin slapping against skin. He’s having sex. The kid is having sex and his bedroom is right above Daniel’s.

“You have to be joking.” Daniel says, out loud. No one answers. Actually, no one says anything. No moaning, no grunting, nothing. Just that sad, perfunctory rhythm, slapslapslap.

Daniel flails around his nightstand until he finds his phone and his headphones. He’s exhausted, and annoyed, and running out of goodwill. He’s also a little turned on, which he refuses to feel bad about.

Fucking figures, he thinks, that his neighbor would put him through mildly uncomfortable sex after Daniel turned down the easiest lay of his life. Daniel puts on a random chill playlist and lets the soft beats drown out the dry smacking going on upstairs. They can’t be having a good time, those two. Daniel has had sex that sounded like that, and he certainly didn’t enjoy it.

The last thing that crosses his mind before exhaustion finally takes over is that it’s weird for someone who’s so fucking loud all the time to become so damn quiet during sex.

Chapter 2

[totowlff]

chapter thirteen — midas’ touch

➝ this is the first time cassie has traveled to vienna. it's also the first time she's announced that she's pregnant to her child's co-parent's family. what can go wrong?

➝ word count: 5,2k

➝ warnings: mentions of child neglect and (probably) wrong austrian german

➝ author’s note: probably the funniest chapter me and ally wrote. i recommend reading with a translator close. btw, happy mother’s day to everyone, and, if you are like cassie, i send you all my love.

13 WEEKS

Your baby is about the size of a peach and has vocal cords, teeth and even fingerprints. You might actually be able to get through the day without nausea or feeling the need to nap.

Cassie was staring out the window of the car as Toto cruised through the streets of Vienna. She was enchanted as she watched the landscape. It was a perfect day. The sun was shining, with not a cloud in the sky. She hadn’t ever been to Vienna, but seeing it for the first time was breathtaking — even better than the pictures she’d seen online.

Just the drive from the airport had her completely in love with the city already. The tree-lined streets and the elegant old buildings made the city look like something from a storybook.

— You seem to like it here — a familiar voice said to Cassie’s left. Cassie turned her head to see Toto glancing at her with a smile before he turned his attention back to the road in front of him.

— It’s so nice — she replied, a shy smile on her face — Beautiful. Very different from the UK.

— By that, I assume you mean that it’s sunnier?

Cassie laughed.

— A bit, but we have some sunny days, too.

— Is there? I can’t remember the last one — he replied, laughing.

Cassie giggled and shook her head, looking back out the window. They were driving through some sort of shopping district, and she watched people walking down the sidewalk. There were a lot of parents, some pushing strollers, some walking hand-in-hand with their children, who were mostly wearing small backpacks. Cassie figured they were leaving school. A few months ago, seeing parents with their kids made her sad, but now, seeing it filled her with hope. After all, it would be her turn soon enough.

She placed a hand on her stomach and stroked the fabric of her black shirt with her thumb. She hadn’t started showing yet, and it meant that she was still having a hard time getting used to the idea of actually being pregnant. However, she was reminded of it every morning, when “the little brat”, as Cassie put it, announced its presence by making her take a trip to the toilet every morning, but it was worth it. 

— Where is your apartment? — she asked, as Toto crossed a bridge over the Danube.

— It's in the Innere Stadt. It’s at the center of the city, and where a lot of the historic buildings and important landmarks are.

— Does your sister live there too?

— No, Liliana lives in Rossau, a neighborhood further north. It's close to where I went to school.

— That’s where we’re going tonight, right?

— Yes — Toto replied, stopping at a traffic light — We're going to have dinner at her house with her, her husband, their three children, and my mother.

Cassie hesitated for a few seconds.

— Are we going to tell your family about the baby? — she questioned.

— Yes, Cassie.

— But…what are we going to say?

— What do you mean?

— How are we going to explain… Our situation?

Toto sighed.

— Well, we have two options — he said — We can tell the truth, that we are friends, that we decided to have a child together, and that he or she will be born at the end of this year. Or we could say we got drunk, had sex without protection, and had a surprise a few weeks later.

Cassie clenched her jaw. The second scenario was pretty close to reality — they had sex without protection and had a surprise a few weeks later. It wasn’t as if it was unwelcome or unexpected, but Cassie never imagined fulfilling their plan in that particular way. Despite all of the passion of that night, and the fact that both of them enjoyed themselves, they agreed that it couldn’t happen again, even though Cassie secretly wanted it to. 

— Which option do you think is preferable?

— Personally? I think the truth is always better. My sister knows we were going through an IVF process, so I think she’d be surprised if we told her the second option happened.

She looked at him, her eyes going wide.

— You told your sister?

— I told her that I had decided to become a father and that I would be going through an IVF process with someone that I trust a lot. 

— And… What did she say?

Toto hesitated for a few seconds.

— Well, she asked a lot of questions about whether I was really committed to having a child with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with, and she asked a few questions about you. That’s all.

— That’s all? She didn't say anything else?

— No. Liliana knows that no matter what she or my mother says, it wouldn’t matter. She knows I don’t do things unless I’m completely sure about them.

Cassie swallowed hard. The idea of meeting Toto's family had always loomed in the back of her mind. It felt a bit daunting, especially considering that she was joining his family in an unconventional way. However, the situation seemed even more complex considering that he had only told his sister that they were having a child. 

And now, she was going to be meeting the entire family all at once, where they would be announcing that not only had they decided to have a baby together, but that baby was now on the way. Cassie felt her stomach lurch.

— Will… I, at least, be able to talk to any of them?

— Yeah, Lili, her husband, and the kids all speak English.

— What about… your mother?

— Only if you know any Polish or German.

“Wonderful, another problem”, she thought. She would spend the entire night depending on Toto to communicate with his mother. Her apprehension must have been plain on her face, because Toto took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

— Cassandra, don't worry — Toto said softly — It's going to be alright. They’re going to love you.

Staring at their joined hands, she felt the butterflies in her stomach grow.

— I hope so, Toto. I hope so.

He let go of her hand to shift gears, and then pointed to something on his left. It was an old brick building, with an archway decorated in some sort of mural.

— See that image of the woman, with the gold background?

— Yes.

— That's Minervabrunnen, a fountain dedicated to the Roman goddess Minerva, or…

— Athena — Cassie answered, smiling.

— Exactly.

— Can we go see it before we go back to the UK?

— Of course — he smiled. They drove for a few more minutes toward the apartment Toto stayed in while he was visiting Vienna. He turned right down a narrow street, and they passed some stores and cafes, sidewalks filled with people drinking coffees at tables with red umbrellas. They also passed an Australian-themed bar that reminded Cassie of Daniel Ricciardo. Finally, Toto turned into the entrance of an underground parking garage, finding a spot close to the elevator. 

— We're here — he smiled.

They got out of the car and took their luggage out of the trunk. Toto insisted on carrying everything, even Cassie’s backpack with her laptop. She protested, telling him that she was just pregnant, not sick, and her backpack didn’t weigh much anyway, but it didn’t matter as Toto insisted. 

They rode the elevator up to the street level and crossed a crosswalk into an elegant apartment building. The lobby was elegantly decorated, with a white marble floor. As they passed through to the elevator, Toto greeted the woman at the reception desk in German, and she returned a smile. Cassie stuck to a nod, unsure of how to say “good afternoon” in German. 

As they stood in the elevator, they glanced at each other, a little shyly. It felt to Cassie like they were doing something they shouldn’t, not just arriving at Toto’s apartment. The elevator arrived at Toto’s floor, and Cassie followed him to his door. He unlocked it and stepped inside, gesturing for Cassie to step inside. 

As she stepped inside, Cassie looked around. The apartment was spacious and well lit, with white walls and furniture. It was minimalist, with simple, clean lines. Most of the furniture was dark, with splashes of color from the large sofa and a few houseplants in simple pots. It was gorgeous, but felt a little cold and impersonal, like a hotel room or an apartment from an architectural photoshoot in a magazine. 

— What do you think?

— Honestly? It’s too big.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

— You think so?

— Considering you barely spend any time here, it seems like a waste of money to have such a big place that you’re only in a few times a year.

He gave her a little smile, dropping the bags at the entrance to the apartment.

— The funny thing is, I downsized when I moved to Oxfordshire. I sold my old place, but staying in hotels when I came back home to visit was kind of strange, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a place in Vienna, too. Plus, my plan is to spend more time here once the baby is born.

Cassie raised an eyebrow.

— You told the lawyer you don’t intend to move.

— And I don't. But I think my family will want to be able to spend time with our little one — he replied, resting his hand on her belly. She never failed to get the most delightful little chills whenever he touched her like that — And we need a place to stay when we visit.

— Are you including me in that 'we’?

— Only if you want — he smiled — Come on, I'll show you to your room.

Toto showed Cassie to one of the bedrooms in the apartment, which was also very minimalist and impersonal. “At least the bed is comfortable”, she thought, as she sat down on the mattress, while he dropped her suitcases in a corner of the room. She hadn't brought much, she wasn’t going to be there long. They would be heading back to the UK after the race on Sunday.

— I'm going to make myself some coffee, do you want something?

She shook her head.

— No thank you, I think I'll just get some rest.

— No problem. If you need me, I'll be in the living room. Make yourself comfortable.

— Thanks — Cassie replied, a shy smile on her lips.

Toto smiled back at her and closed the door. Cassie let herself collapse onto the bed, letting out a sigh. Staring at the ceiling, Her mind began to travel, imagining the most different scenarios that could happen later than evening when she met his family, and each was more catastrophic than the last. 

It would be a difficult night, to say the least.

A few hours later, they were standing in front of the door of his sister’s apartment, waiting for someone to answer. Cassie had chosen a light, summery sky-blue cotton dress with a floral print. At first, she wasn’t sure how it looked on her, even though she’d chosen it specifically because it would hide her belly, as small as it was. She changed her mind about it as soon as she saw the look on Toto’s face when she stepped into the living room. If his reaction was anything to go by, she must have looked stunning.

Cassie was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened, revealing a small boy with light hair and dark eyes. He smiled at them as he pulled the door open.

— Gute Nacht, Onkel! Wie geht’s?

— Gute Nacht, Oskar, mir geht es gut und dir? — Toto replied, hugging the boy warmly — Du bist sehr gewachsen, seit ich dich das letzte Mal im Winter gesehen habe.

— Mir geht es gut. Mama denkt, dass ich nächstes Jahr so ​​groß wie Erik sein werde — Oskar said, smiling. The little crinkle at the top of his nose made Cassie smile. They were similar to Toto's.

— Oskar, this is Cassie, my friend — he said, finally including her in the conversation — Cassie, this is Oskar, one of my nephews.

She reached out to shake the boy's hand.

— Nice to meet you, Oskar.

— Nice to meet you too, Cassie — the boy said, in English — Come in.

Liliana's family's apartment was also large, but it felt much cozier than Toto's, as if it were actually inhabited by a large family. There were pictures on the walls, shoes in the foyer, and the smell of something delicious cooking. It was nicely decorated, but still felt lived-in. It reminded her a bit of Stansted House, her childhood home.

It was where she grew up, where she was when she wasn’t away at school. She could still picture it clearly in her mind’s eye, even though she hadn’t been there in years. The walls were covered in paintings, most of them old portraits of ancestors she never bothered learning the names of. In the few happy moments of her childhood, she remembered playing games with her siblings in their playroom, the smell of fresh biscuits being baked by one of the housekeepers, and romping around the back garden with her sister, picking flowers and looking for frogs in the nearby pond.

They stepped inside and took their shoes off, and Oskar led them into the living room, where two other boys were sitting on the couch beside an older woman, and a middle-aged man sitting in a nearby armchair. As Toto stepped into the living room, the two boys jumped off the couch and ran into their uncle’s outstretched arms.

— Onkel! Du kamst! — they repeated, as they embraced him.

— Natürlich bin ich gekommen, habe ich nicht gesagt, dass ich es tun würde?

They laughed together, and Cassie could feel her heart fluttering as she watched Toto interact with his nephews. Then, she noticed that the older woman stood up with a smile on her face. She was wearing a flowy, long cotton dress, and her long gray hair was tied into an elegant bun at the base of her neck. “This must be his mother”, Cassie thought, as the woman approached Toto.

— Gute Nacht mein Sohn. Wie schön, dich wiederzusehen! — she said, before planting a kiss on his cheek — Wie geht’s?

— Mir geht es gut, Mama, ich arbeite hart.

— Ich kann es in deinem Gesicht sehen, meine Liebe. Sie brauchen diesen Sommer einen guten Urlaub — the woman said, reaching up to pinch Toto's cheek lightly. 

— Kein Grund zur Sorge Mama, mir geht es gut — he said. 

The woman turned to Cassie and shook her hand as she said something in German.

— Cassie, this is my mother, Joanna. — Toto said. He was distracted after a moment, though, as he turned to shake hands with the man who had also come forward to greet him. "And that must be Liliana's husband", Cassie thought. 

— Guten abend, Franz.

As he greeted his brother-in-law, his sister appeared in the room, giving him a warm hug and kissing his cheek. The sight of them all together, smiling and hugging each other, made Cassie feel thrilled, but a bit sad, in a way. She had always wanted a loving family, one that would be happy to see her make a visit back home, one that treated her like someone worthy of affection and respect. When she was a child, she always imagined her parents hugging her and kissing her when she came home between school terms, telling her how much they loved her and missed her while she was gone. 

But, she never heard it, and knew she never would.

They weren’t overly affectionate or attentive as parents to any of their children, but Cassie was treated far differently than her siblings, however, and it had only gotten worse as she grew up. By the time she finished year 9, they treated her like an uninvited guest whenever she came home on the school holidays, and she usually opted to spend most of her time at Sybil’s house instead. 

Her own childhood was filled with trauma and neglect, and she was resolved to not let her own child know what that felt like. She was determined to make sure her child knew that Cassie loved them more than anything, and would do anything to make them feel that love every day. Her child would never have to run away to an aunt’s house to spend Christmas with someone who looked at her with an expression other than contempt. They would be happy. 

— Nun, da Sie alle hier sind, möchte ich Ihnen jemanden vorstellen — Toto said — Das ist Cassandra, oder besser Cassie.

Cassie noticed that the entire family was looking at her with a certain curiosity. Unsure of what else to do, she held up her hand and shyly waved. 

— Hello — she said, her voice quiet.

— Ist sie deine Freundin, Onkel? — the smaller boy, who she assumed was Bjorn, asked, making everyone laugh and Toto blush a little.

— Nein, sie ist nicht meine Freundin. Sie ist eine großartige Freundin von mir. Eine Person, der ich sehr vertraue.

Franz was the first to step forward and give her a generous handshake.

— Schön dich kennenzulernen, Cassie — he said.

— Sie spricht kein Deutsch, Franz.

— Oh, I’m sorry. Nice to meet you, Cassie. I'm Franz, I’m Liliana’s husband.

— Nice to meet you too.

Toto's nephews greeted her, and Joanna commented, through Toto, that Cassie was a beautiful woman. Finally, Liliana approached. Her expression was serious.

— Nice to meet you, Cassie — she said, in a strange, rather cold tone — Toto has told me a lot about you.

After the proper introductions were made, Liliana beckoned everyone to the dining table. Toto had asked her not to serve anything fancy, but the meal looked delicious. She prepared what Toto said was Schweinsbraten, some sort of pork roast with gravy and carrots. There were also potato dumplings, rolls, and some sort of red cabbage slaw. 

The food was incredible. It almost reminded Cassie of a Sunday roast dinner. As they ate, Toto’s mother asked Cassie questions about herself, with Toto serving as a translator. However, the mood at the table completely changed when she asked a specific question.

— Toto, Liebling, frag Cassie, ob sie Kinder hat.

Toto looked at Cassie, a flash of nervousness coming to his face before he looked back at his mother..

— Nun, zu diesem Thema, Mama — he began, setting his cutlery on his plate — Ich bin gekommen, um mit Ihnen allen, genauer gesagt mit Ihnen, darüber zu sprechen.

— Über Kinder?

— Ja — he replied, taking a deep breath — Ich habe Cassie zu Ihnen gebracht, weil wir nicht nur gute Freunde sind, sondern uns gemeinsam entschlossen haben, uns den Traum zu erfüllen, Eltern zu werden.

— Aber wie?

— Wir beschlossen, zusammenzukommen und ein Kind als Freunde zu bekommen. Wir werden ihn zusammen großziehen, aber ohne romantische Beteiligung.

— Und wie willst du ein Kind haben — Joanna said, glancing at her three grandchildren. None of the boys seemed to be interested in their food at the moment — Ohne romantische Beteiligung?

— Künstliche Befruchtung — Liliana muttered. Her mother looked at her, shocked.

— Warte, lass mich das klarstellen, Torger — Joanna said. Her voice sounded irritated — Willst du mir nur sagen, dass du eines Tages aufgewacht bist, beschlossen hast, Vater zu werden, deine Freundin gefragt hast, ob sie es akzeptieren würde, und das war's? Wirst du so ein Kind haben, ohne Beteiligung, ohne Zuneigung, nicht einmal Sex?

— Papa, was ist Sex? — she heard Bjorn ask Franz, who shushed him.

— So war es nicht, Mama. Es war eine Entscheidung, die nach langem Nachdenken von beiden Seiten und mit großer Reife und Ruhe getroffen wurde — Toto replied.

— Du musst verrückt geworden sein — Joanna muttered, shaking her head.

— An welchem ​​Punkt befinden Sie sich in der Behandlung? — Liliana asked. The look on her face was stern and serious. Toto looked at her for a few seconds, in silence. It was all it took for her to put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide — Du…

— Ich bin mit Cassie hergekommen, um Ihnen zu sagen, dass wir später in diesem Jahr ein Kind erwarten.

— Was? — Joanna exclaimed, pointing at Cassie — Ist sie schwanger?

— Ja, Mama. Cassie ist schwanger — Toto said, taking Cassie's hand — Ich werde dir endlich einen Enkel schenken.

Joanna was too shocked to speak. She set her silverware down and got up without a word, turned on her heel and walked out of the dining room. Liliana was staring at her plate, also speechless. Franz, on the other hand, looked at Cassie with an expression that she knew well. It was the look Sybil always had when Cassie would show up on her doorstep, talking about one of Albert’s violent outbursts.

It was a look of pity.

Toto got up and followed his mother, calling out her name. 

Liliana then lifted her face and looked at Cassie.

— Are you really pregnant?

— Yes — she murmured.

— How far along are you?

— Around 13 weeks.

Cassie pursed her lips. In the next room, she could hear Toto's voice arguing with his mother in rapid German.

— Sie wurde durch die Behandlung nicht schwanger, Mama! Die Behandlung schlug nicht an, wir waren verärgert und schliefen miteinander. Wir haben nicht damit gerechnet, dass sie schwanger wird, aber sie wurde schwanger und wir sind glücklich, Mama.

— Das ist nicht das Problem, Torger!

— Und was ist dann los, Mama?

— Das Problem ist, dass Sie sich weigern, seit dem, was mit Julia passiert ist, eine Beziehung zu haben.

— Mama…

— Ich verstehe, dass du Julia geliebt hast und dass du gehofft hast, sie zu heiraten und Kinder mit ihr zu haben. Ich habe auch erwartet, dass ihr zusammen seid, aber es sollte nicht sein. Und jetzt haben Sie eine neue Gelegenheit, mit einer schönen, intelligenten und wirklich liebenswerten Frau glücklich zu sein, und Sie sagen mir, dass Sie ein Baby als Freunde bekommen werden?

— Mama, Julia ist Vergangenheit…

— Es scheint nicht so, wenn man bedenkt, dass Sie eine schwangere Frau mit zum Abendessen mitgebracht haben und sich einfach weigern, ihr einen Platz in Ihrem Herzen zu geben.

Nobody at the table said anything. Cassie’s heart pounding inside her chest, a knot forming in her throat.

— Cassie hat einen Platz in meinem Herzen, Mama — Toto said, in a careful tone.

— Es ist nicht der Platz, den sie verdient, und das weißt du. Ich sehe in ihren Augen, dass sie anders ist.

— Natürlich ist sie anders, sie wird die Mutter meines Kindes!

She heard Joanna give a sarcastic laugh.

— Du solltest deinen Gefühlen vertrauen und das Richtige tun, nur dieses eine Mal. Du erinnerst dich daran, was passiert ist, als du sie das letzte Mal ignoriert hast.

— Was ist passiert?

— Julia löste ihre Verlobung mit dir.

As moments passed, with nobody saying anything and the sound of the argument echoing through the apartment, Cassie started to feel suffocated.

— Mein Sohn, sei ehrlich zu dieser Frau. Sei ehrlich zu dir selbst. Geben Sie diesem Kind die Familie, die es verdient.

— Ich muss nicht in einer romantischen Beziehung sein, um eine Familie zu haben, Mama. Und ich gehe nicht nur wegen meines Sohnes in eine. Ich möchte ihn nicht unter Druck setzen.

— Es gibt keinen Druck, für einen Sohn zusammenzukommen, Torger.

— Weil du nicht weißt, wie es ist, die Einzige zu sein, die deine Eltern zusammenhält, oder, Mama? Aber ich weiß. Und Lili weiß es auch.

Whatever Toto had just said to his mother, it made Liliana quietly gasp and turn her head towards Cassie, her expression turning to shock.

— Excuse me — Cassie said, setting her napkin down and swiftly leaving the table. She ran toward the bathroom and closed the door. She leaned against the wall and sank down to the floor. After a few sniffles from trying not to cry, she could feel tears running down her cheeks.

She was tired, angry, and sad, all at once. It briefly occurred to her that the pregnancy hormones may have been causing her to feel everything so intensely, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to defend herself against whatever Toto's mother was saying about her, but she didn’t know what that was. She didn’t understand what was happening.

She put her hands on her stomach as the sound of her sniffles bounced off of the tiles. She felt like King Midas, only in reverse. Everything she touched was destroyed, even the happiest of families. She wondered why she seemingly wasn’t allowed to be happy. In that moment, she felt like she always left misery in her wake. She didn’t fit into her own family, why should she have expected to fit into this one? Why was she trying to have her own family, if she made everyone else miserable? Would she make her own child miserable, someone else to be unhappy with her?

She was so focused on ruminating over her own misery that she didn't notice the bathroom door open, or Toto sitting down in front of her, until he took her face in his hands.

— Cassandra — he said softly, running his thumbs over the tears trailing down her cheeks.

— I fucked everything up — she said — I'm a fucking disaster.

— No, Cassie, you didn’t…

— Your mother hates me, doesn't she? Your sister hates me. They hate me because I wanted to have a child and dragged you into it.

— Cassie, please…

— I didn’t come here to destroy your perfect family. I was so nervous about meeting them because of this. I destroyed my own family growing up, my dad always said that I was difficult and that I was a disappointment, and that I caused every problem they had. I didn’t mean to cause problems for you, I didn’t, I didn’t —

— My angel, look at me — Toto said, his voice still soft.

She looked up into his eyes as she tried to blink the tears out of hers. 

— It's okay. My mom doesn't hate you. Neither does my sister. They just thought the idea was a little crazy, but I explained everything. They're not mad, just… Surprised.

— They sounded… And looked angry.

— I think German can sound a bit… Aggressive if you don’t know the language. — he said, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb — It’s all of the short, rough sounds. Even saying “I love you”. 

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds. Uncertainty must have been clear on Cassie's face, because Toto pulled her into a hug, one hand sliding through her hair, stroking the back of her head in an effort to calm her down. With her head nestled in the crook of his neck, she felt strangely safe there. 

— Was ist passiert? Ist Cassie gut? — she heard a female voice ask through the door. Toto released Cassie from his embrace and opened the door. Cassie saw Liliana and Joanna standing in the doorway, looking at her with worried expressions on their faces.

— Ihr geht es gut, Mom, sie ist nur ein bisschen deprimiert wegen der ganzen Situation — Toto replied — Cassie hoffte, dass deine Reaktion nicht so negativ war.

Joanna came into the bathroom and stood in front of Cassie, placing her hands on Cassie’s shoulders. They didn’t have any languages in common with which to speak to each other, but the look on her face didn't need translation.

— Können Sie ihr sagen, dass wir nicht sauer auf sie sind? Dass wir eigentlich sehr glücklich über die Nachricht sind? Wir waren nur überrascht, das ist alles.

— My mother asked me to tell you that neither she nor Lili are mad at you, Cassie. They were surprised, but they are very happy.

Cassie looked at Joanna, who was smiling.

— Sorry for the inconvenience, Mrs. Wolff. It's just — Cassie hesitated for a few seconds — My family used to say I used to make things difficult for them, and your reaction to the news made me think I might have made things difficult for you, as well.

Toto pursed his lips before translating for Joanna, who brought her free hand to Cassie’s face.

— Du hast es nicht vermasselt, Cassie. Sie und dieses Kind sind die fehlenden Teile, um diese Familie zu vervollständigen. Und wir alle lieben euch beide jetzt schon.

— She said you didn't make things difficult, Cassie — Toto translated, the shadow of a smile on his face — That you and our child were the missing pieces of our family…

She looked at Toto, who seemed to be hesitating.

— Anything else? — Cassie asked.

— Yes. She said… We all love you both already.

Cassie smiled as her chest filled with warmth.

— Sagen Sie ihr, wir gehen ins Wohnzimmer, um mehr über all das zu reden. Ich möchte mehr über meinen Enkel erfahren.

— Come on, let's go to the living room. She said she wants to hear all about the baby — Toto said, taking Cassie's hand and leading her into the living room. 

Toto had her sit on the sofa, and Franz brought her a glass of water. She showed Joanna and Liliana the ultrasound photos on her phone and they talked excitedly about the new addition, Cassie started feeling much better. She felt more comfortable as the night went on, getting generous hugs and kisses on her cheek as she and Toto left to go back to his apartment. 

They didn’t say much to each other as they walked back in to Toto’s flat, which bothered Cassie a bit. It felt like there was a lot to discuss right now, especially after the situation at dinner, but she was glad that Joanna had warmed up to her by the time the night ended, and considered things settled for the time being.

— I’m going to go take a shower and get ready for bed — Cassie said, as they stepped into Toto’s living room. She turned to walk down the hallway

— Cassie — Toto said behind her

— Yes? — she turned, a little hesitantly. 

He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his chinos, his expression serious.

— In the bathroom, you said something that bothered me a little.

— What?

— You said you didn't want to destroy my perfect family.

Cassie looked down at her feet, swallowing hard.

— I mean, I don’t… — she murmured.

— The problem is, my family isn't perfect. In fact, we are far from perfect.

— But, you all seemed so happy together today.

— Yes, today. But it wasn't always this way, Cassie — he replied, approaching her — When I was growing up, a lot of things were difficult between my mom and I, especially after my parents' divorce and with the advance of my father's illness and it strained our relationship as mother and son a lot.

Cassie felt something tighten in her throat.

— We argued, we fought, we’d go weeks without speaking to each other. In the end, we had to figure out how to get along, because we only had each other. We've done a lot of work to get this far. 

Toto gently took Cassie’s hand.

— When I say that you will not destroy my family, it is because we are already prepared for adversity and challenges. We're strong, just like you are — Toto said, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of Cassie’s hair behind her ear — And… We all love you just the way you are. You and our child. We love you.

Cassie pursed her lips, thinking about what he was saying. She couldn't even remember the last time someone had said they loved her, but hearing Toto say it, even in such an indirect way, made her feel like her heart could explode with joy at any moment.

She knew what she wanted to say in response, but she wasn’t sure if she could manage it, so she hugged him instead.

“We love you too”, Cassie thought.

[pointreyesjournal]

The Amnesiac : ep36

"Europeany"

Sunday

It has been 24 hours since we left the delightful Tillamook cheese factory, and after an uneventful night spent in Astoria (the town made famous by the movie Goonies) we find ourselves riding the gently twisting and exceedingly scenic roads of the Northern Cascades. Route 97 dead-ends at the intersection of Route 2, where we make a left turn and from there it’s only a few miles to Leavenworth. The sky is bright blue and we’re enjoying a beautiful day following the storm.

From the moment we round the bend at the edge of town it’s obvious that this is the Bavarian village we’ve been looking for. Leavenworth is a European themed village with wide variety of fairytale style architecture featuring German style “fachwerk” exposed beams, large overhangs and steeply pitched roofs. It’s hard to believe we’re still in America. If Snow White and her Seven Dwarves stopped traffic in the crosswalk, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least. There are hotels everywhere, each with their own Bavarian themed name. Icicle Village Resort, Der Ritterhof Inn, The Bavarian Lodge … you get the idea. We make a couple of passes along the main road until River points to one of the hotels. I can hear her yelling into my helmet “That’s the most Europeany!” Most Europeany? I haven’t seen that word in the adjective dictionary yet, but who cares? It’s in the middle of town so we’ll see if we can find lodging there.

Fortunately there are rooms available, they’re reasonably price, so we unload the panniers from the Ducati and get settled in. Greg LeMond once said of bicycling “It never gets easier you just get faster.” The same is essentially true of motorcycling. We’ve traveled well over 1000 miles in the past few days and by the time I collapse onto the bed in the hotel, I feel like a chain-gang inmate who has just been flogged for disobedience. We both struggle but succeed in kicking off our boots. River slumps into the chair and without a word we mutually agree to stay here and chill until our bodies acclimatize back to non-motorcycle normal.

River dozes off to sleep for about two seconds then snorts herself awake. We have a good laugh about it and that motivates us to begin the quest for dinner. With jeans and flip-flops on, we descend the stairs to the lobby. River asks the gal at the front desk for a dinner recommendation in the “most Enropeany” part of town and she points out the window. “Across the highway to Front Street. More food than y’all can shake a stick at, and it’s all pretty darn Europeany” she tells us.

River has my drawing, the one with her behind the Leica camera on one side and the Bavarian village on the other, rolled up and in hand. She wants to find the exact location where the drawing was made before the sun sets. Since Leavenworth is only a few city blocks long and a couple of city blocks deep, it should be a pretty doable task.

Front Street is indeed “Europeany.” It’s a cute little downtown area with touristy shops and plenty of germanic dining options. The idea of finding some good schnitzel, or better yet an authentic currywurst washed down with a Löwenbräu has my mouth absolutely watering. But first we are determined to find “the spot” depicted in my drawing. We walk the few blocks to the north end of the street, enjoying looking in the shop windows for souvenirs small enough to carry home on a motorcycle and perusing the menus of the eateries for something authentic. But we don’t immediately find the location from the picture so River pulls out the drawing to give it a closer examination. She decides that we’ll have better luck at the south end of Front Street so we turn around and walk all the way to the south end of town without finding the exact spot. But at the south end of town, when we turn back north again, we see it. There’s an intersection with the exact type of bierhaus architecture we’re looking for. We walk to the intersection and River holds up the drawing. From the middle of the intersection, it’s a perfect match.

I close my eyes and the crippling pain of the memory recall comes flooding back. River takes my hand to share her energy with me and the pain subsides. “I’m not here” I tell her. “I’m flying through space. Through the cosmos. Stars and planets are whizzing past the window of my spaceship. There’s a rainbow of galaxies and nebula, sometimes smashing against the window and exploding into colorful stardust. It’s the most bizarre thing, like I died and I’m riding to heaven on my Ducati.”

I open my eyes and return to the now. I’m no closer to solving this mystery. There’s a park bench in the greenbelt just across the street, so we sit there while the sun sets to understand what the hell we’re doing here.

“Okay River, let recap. I left home alone on my motorcycle heading for a nice relaxing Pacific Northwest motorcycle vacation and somehow ended up in Fern Canyon, and that is where your spirit first catches up to me. Then clearly I visited Paul Bunyan and you were on my mind there, and at Thor’s Well too. The barista in Tillamook claims to have seen you there, so your spiritual presence was becoming strong enough to manifest to multiple people at the same time. That led us here where my visions change from your bodily manifestation to a celestial manifestation, as I see the universe without form or time, just color and movement. If we follow that same path with the drawings, it only leaves one drawing left…”

“Me in the tulips.”

“Correct. So what does that mean?”

“I have no idea. Okay, let me suss this out for a minute. A few days ago we were having lunch at that weird little Indian casino in Klamath and I think that was the first moment when we realized that there’s a cosmic connection between us. The barista in Tillamook confirmed this and the cosmic vision you had just a minute ago confirms this. Which makes me think that maybe my spirit wasn’t following you here, maybe it was guiding you here!”

“But why?”

“That’s the real question isn’t it, but the only thing I can think is that the universe NEEDS us to be together for some reason.”

“Like The Terminator? We’ll make a baby and name him John Connor and our spawn will go on to save the world from artificial intelligence or something?”

“Ha! Maybe! Or maybe we’ll have a girl and she’ll be the first President of the United States or something.”

“Or maybe us just falling in love is good enough for the universe, and we’re here in the fairytale village to begin our fairytale love story?”

River is completely titillated by the prospect of our relationship being true love and leans in for a passionate and loving kiss. It’s a moment I’ll never forget. It’s the beginning of us acknowledging that from this day forward our two shall be one, and some day, our one will be three or four. I want badly to get on my knee to propose, but it would honestly just ruin the moment. The cosmic connection we’re feeling right now is far more powerful than any human construct called marriage could even begin to understand.

[sassylady1103]

The Road to Charleston

It’s our third day on the road. What a trip it’s been! I’ve been too exhausted at night to write, but we’re in Charleston now, staying at the apartment Colleen wants to clean up and use as a base.

This trip has been amazing! I mean, it was dangerous in spots, but with Colleen, it felt like nothing. I had no idea what a warrior she was! I know she spent most of her time with Papa training in the gym, even more after he’d gone, but I just never knew what a fighter she’d become. She’s so sneaky with her silencer, the scorched and ferals we came across didn’t even know what hit them! I only had to use my shotgun a few times when there was a mob that caught on to her. I was in awe of my sister, and I know Papa would be so proud of her.

The morning we left was foggy, and it made the forests look soft and dreamy, and dampened the sounds we made. It felt like it was enveloping us in a hug. Colleen didn’t like it much, as it gave her less warning of enemy approach, but it burned off as the sun rose higher in the sky. It was a beautiful day for our trip otherwise.

I had only been to Morgantown, which is a little north of us. We headed south, so everything I saw was a new experience. Colleen was sure to point out points of interest, and I found a nice patch of blackberries that I made a mental note to come back to. We picked enough for each of us to enjoy as we traveled.

The next town over from us is a small grouping of houses, a hardware store and a Red Rocket station along the river. I didn’t see a sign remaining that told us the name. Maybe it never had one, as people there likely commuted to Morgantown or even Charleston before the war. There were a lot of scorched, but Colleen quickly dispatched them. I wanted to check out the hardware store to see if there was anything useful, but Colleen said she’d been in there previously and there wasn’t much left, so we pressed on.

We weren’t on the road much longer before we came to a small town called Helvetia. Colleen said we’d stay the night there, in the old hotel. According to the historical marker near the bridge over the river, the town was founded by German and Swiss immigrants who were craftsmen and artisans in 1869! I was amazed it was still standing. It is the cutest town with its German themed shops! Along with the hotel, there was a community hall that looked to be a meeting or dance hall, a church, a Honey Haus, Cheese Haus, post office and Freya’s Haus Restaurant. I especially loved the museum, where a few old Civil War costumes were still on display. I would guess because they were very delicate and almost falling apart from neglect they that were never looted. There was a dress that was long and had such a full skirt, with long sleeves and what looked like lace detailing at the neckline. We tried to imagine having to wear such a thing and how heavy it must weigh with all that fabric!

Colleen thinks there were settlers here until very recently, since this place looked to be abandoned recently. There was still dishes on the table and moldy food in the kitchen of the restaurant and some instruments left at the bandstand by the river. Most buildings looked as if someone had just stepped away. It was a mystery since this town seemed very suitable for a settlement.

We passed on the moldy food, but picked some Starlight berries and made a nice cobbler with dry goods at the restaurant. It was a very pleasant place to spend the evening watching the sun go down behind the mountain and hearing the river running under the bridge. That was until we heard the unmistakable sound of the scorched. “When you hear ‘Not Us’, assume they’re talking about you, and not in a welcoming way”, Colleen said as she reached for her rifle. She told me stay put in the restaurant, and I could hear some movement outside. Shortly, the movement stopped and Colleen was back. “It was just a few, but I’ll keep watch regardless tonight. Guess we solved the mystery of the missing townsfolk. I’m really glad we’re getting you vaccinated soon.” Colleen was grim when she said this. Those burned up, mindlessly wandering things were once people….people like us just trying to survive who caught an illness that affected their minds and bodies and changed them into monsters. I was glad I was getting vaccinated too.

The night was uneventful, and I woke early. Colleen was eager to get on the road again, so we had a little breakfast and packed up our gear. It was warmer than the day before and being on the road so close to the mountain meant fewer trees to shade us. As we got further from Helvetia, the landscape softened and we had some shade again. Still following the river, the road took us past an old water treatment plant. There were large tanks still full of rank water that we could smell long before we saw it. I was just wondering why no one had come along and drained the things when suddenly we heard a robotic voice saying things I couldn’t understand. Colleen told me to duck down and I followed her to a tree that could shield us from being seen from the plant.

“There’s Liberators inside the fence. I’m not sure if they can get out, but they’ll be able to shoot their lasers this far. We must have alerted them. They’re looking for us.” Colleen told me as we crouched behind the tree. She had her rifle at her side and I wondered if I should pull out my shotgun. Colleen waved me back. “They think it’s a false alarm now. We’re okay as long as we move slowly and quietly.” “Wait, you understand what they’re saying? It sounds like gibberish!” I whispered loudly to her. Colleen turned and winked at me. “It’s Chinese. Dad taught me years ago. I’m rusty, but I remember enough.” “Hold on, Papa knew Chinese? Why?” I was shocked. How did I never know this? “All the military officers had to learn. Remember there was a war in Dad’s time and the threat of more Chinese attacks on America. Which obviously happened, but I guess knowing Chinese wasn’t real helpful, was it?” She smiled sardonically, and I just nodded. I was reminded how little I must know of the family I spent everyday of my life with in a two room suite in Vault 76. No wonder Colleen still considered me a naive child.

Colleen started moving along the tree line, crouched low and moving slowly, watching where she stepped. She motioned me to follow. We did this until we were clear of the plant. I was glad when she said we were out of danger, because my back was starting to ache from the awkward crouching. We walked in silence, me lost in thought as I wondered what else I’d learn about my parents and sister, and Colleen keeping watch for danger.

As the sun was getting low in the sky and our shadows were lengthening beside us, we saw another town coming into view. Colleen said it was Summerville, and that we’d stop here for the night. “There’s Blood Eagles in town, and I’d rather not try to get around them in the dark. They are the nastiest of the Raider groups I’ve come across.” There were houses on both sides of the river in Summerville. Some were boarded up, but some were open, again as if someone had just stepped out of them. “Are there Scorched here, too?” I asked her. Colleen shook her head. “I’ve never seen them here, but there’s some wicked overgrown crabs down near the riverbed. We should be fine if we stay near the road. Here, I’ve stayed in this house a couple times. It should still be safe.” Colleen led the way to a smallish house on the edge of town. Inside was a living room and kitchen area, with bedrooms upstairs, like any other house. What made my mouth drop was that every shelf, surface and stair had piles of books on them. Books were everywhere.

“Colleen, why did you never tell me there was a library outside the Vault?” I was grabbing titles and scanning pages. “It’s not a library, really, just someone’s collection. Someone who really loved books, I guess.” She said as she picked one up, glanced at the title and set it down again. “Hey, Col, how about I keep watch tonight and you get some rest?” I offered, keeping my eyes on the pages of the book I held. “Well, just make sure you don’t get so involved in those books that you aren’t listening outside. It should be safe enough though, so call me if you need me. I’ll be upstairs. Have fun with this mess.” She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. I found a lantern, lit it and curled up on the ratty couch. I flipped through some books on the coffee table, choosing one. I was just finishing the last chapter when I heard Colleen coming down the stairs. “Okay, bookworm, we need to get going soon.” Colleen said as she was opening cabinet doors in the kitchen, hoping to find some coffee or tea. “Sure, I’m almost finished with this one, but I want to grab a few to take with me.” I said as I hastily finished the last paragraph. I started selecting books I wanted to take with me. “Whoa, remember you have to carry those to Charleston, then home again, and they’re going to get really heavy after awhile.” Colleen had a point. I had a stack. I tried to narrow it to just three books. In the end I chose four. “I know, I’ll regret this later.” I grinned at Colleen. She shook her head. “Here, give me the food. I guess I can help lighten your load some.”

We left the house and walked along the river for a bit, then Colleen cut through the houses to the river and we climbed down the rocky slope to cross to the other side hopping on some large rocks. “The crab things are more upstream. Crossing the river avoids downtown, where the Blood Eagles hang out.” Colleen explained. We climbed up the other side, which was made more awkward by my heavy backpack, but it got easier once we were back on pavement. “This road goes into Charleston, along what used to be Summerville lake.” Colleen pointed ahead. “Used to be? Did you rename it?” I teased. Colleen just shrugged. “I’ll let you decide.”

The sun was shining directly down on us and my backpack was starting to dig into my shoulders. Soon, I saw what Colleen must have been talking about. Summerville lake was a field of dried, cracked mud. “Wow, did the lake just evaporate?” I asked. Colleen answered, “It was drained. Apparently the lake was formed when a dam was built closer to Charleston. This area flooded and became the lake. Apparently there was a town that was under water until the lake drained. Now it’s overrun with Super Mutants.” Colleen stopped at what was probably the bank of the lake. We looked out over the vast lake of mud. If was the closest thing I’d seen to a wasteland since we left the Vault. “Come on, we’ll keep on the road. That lakebed is too open.” Colleen started down the road that formed to the right away from downtown Summerville. “We should be at the apartment this afternoon if we don’t run into any issues.”

We continued down the road, past some old vacation cabins that must have been nice when the lake was there. Then we passed some docks and boat houses that extended out over nothing now that the lake was gone. There were some Scorched wandering about, but they didn’t notice us up on the road. Coming around a bend, I saw what looked to be a broken dam. “Oh, Col! Do you think that dam just failed from age or lack of upkeep?” Colleen stopped, looking over the ruined dam. “No, it was destroyed by Raiders. Nuked it. Some act of revenge for the capture and killing of the leader’s girlfriend.” I stared at her. “But all those people….How do you know all this?” Colleen just shrugged. “Lot of terminals and holotapes out there with bits of the story. You can fill in the blanks pretty well by looking at the mess in Charleston. Come on, we’ll be there soon.”

Colleen got us to her apartment without running into any locals. She’s learned the routes to take that will avoid those areas. I’m excited to check the big city out! The capital building is stunning, even after all this time. I’d seen pictures of the famous gold dome, but seeing it shining in the late afternoon light was surreal.

The apartment is more like a penthouse on the rooftop of a stately brick building that housed some businesses and a cafe. It’s a lot of glass, and in amazingly good shape. It’s just a one bedroom loft, and already furnished. We were both so tired when we got in, that we just crashed for the night. We decided to take the day to rest before heading to AVR medical center for my vaccine.

It’s been a nice lazy day with time to write and record our journey. I’m almost overwhelmed by everything I’ve seen the last few days. It’s a big world out there for this Vault kid, and it’s been amazing!

More soon,

Mags

[vixen-fiction]

I. Let’s Play

FARRAH

I looked out at the beautiful Parisian skyline, I preferred it at night but the afternoon sky was just as beautiful today. I could hear the Keurig in the corner of the room, pouring the hot water and the scent of the coffee soon followed, it was a regular day with my therapist.  Well, I assumed it would be normal. My new therapist at least was just as beautiful as my past one, when she finally walked back in, I simply sat with my legs crossed then offered her a smile. Dr. Andres is a Cancer woman like myself. A mixture of water and also fire with Sagittarius in her chart. Her beautiful green eyes fixed on mine as she sat across from me. Once she cleared her throat and looking at my file, she definitely had so much to say but simply settled on keeping it simple, what she would proceed with next didn’t shock me at all.

“I’ve read your files, your report from your previous specialists…I take it for majority of our session I may see you from a different view and light. I want you to really start from the beginning where you’re most comfortable..it’s really up to you.”

  I examined the large pink diamond that sat proudly on my finger, it glistened whenever the right light hit it. “Most start with asking how I’m feeling, but I like you for being so forward.” I told her before grabbing my bottled water, taking a swig.

“Do you want to begin with discussing a—” paused to read the name, a name that to this day triggers something with me. “Jonathan Torrance Truffaut, a German born millionaire but also he was a sponsor for you and your mother Zeta Baptiste in 2002. Your I-130 application was processed and approved, became permanent residents in 2003. I see later you received citizenship in 2009.. then documented incidents of abuse. Trevor Blake was hospitalized for fractured ribs and a broken arm..a well documented incident that you witnessed.”

The sound of a trigger being pulled and the hammer clicking inside my head could be heard. I clenched my jaw. I had to remember to breathe. I was never good with these uncomfortable conversations even when I was younger, I felt myself in that place again but this time I was in his arms. I felt safe. But life wasn’t always like this, I didn’t feel the reserve I feel now, the emotional freedom…

“Well you told me we could start wherever I felt comfortable, if we’d start there we’d go way way back to the beginning.. if we’d like to address my traumas I’ll just start with my late ex husband.. I think that’s a good place to begin.” That was the last word that I uttered before I let her have her way. As usual, she’s good at that. We’re good at that, a soft chuckle left my lips. That hazel hue in my eyes had appeared and I noticed Dr. Andres was absolutely enamored, nervous.

  “Nice to meet you Dr. Andres.. I’m Zuri.”

“Likewise, I know exactly who you are my dear. Shall we continue?” She scribbled her opening notes.

ZURI

The ultimate stripper and hoe old school anthem Sho Nuff by Tela featuring 8Ball & MJG blasted through the club speakers. Tonight was the night real money could be made if you had the power to finesse these niggas. I watched as money fell on dancers and of course the bartenders, I was caught reminiscing my days twirling the pole. It was then I had felt his eyes on me from across the room. For awhile now, this stranger had been watching me. It wasn’t anything new to me, I had grown used to a man eyeing me and looking at me like a piece of meat. Los Angeles was a city where I learned to sniff out a trick, a creep and a freak.

  The easiest targets.

Playhouse Hollywood, the lavish nightclub where I worked had attracted all kinds of potential clientele and the desperate ducks in the city. I had just served a majority of my regulars for the night so now it was time to scope the scene and mingle for a few moments. When I ventured out further through the club, that's when I noticed him. His eyes on me and my frame made me put a little pep in my strut. I smirked over at my best friend Lex, her eyes shifted to the baller that I was walking toward. I could only imagine her inner laughter. Once I had walked over to his table in the VIP section it appears that he had his mind made up on wanting more than bottle service.

  “I just need one night of your time beautiful. One night.” He stated smirked at me. He took a hold of my hand once I sat the bottles of Hennessy and Don Julio on the table.

  “Mmm, my policy is I can’t mingle with clients or customers from work. It’s bad for business and it can be dangerous.” I replied with a chuckle. He remained persistent and even after servicing him, he still was fighting for my attention amongst my regular or new customers. I couldn't be irritated at all considering he gave me a large tip out that covered me even when I had to pay the club’s portion. As the night went on, the club became packed for a Thursday. The liquor in my system mixing with my desire and the drugs now had me craving my usual fix. A good ass orgasm, some bomb dick or pussy was something to really end my night right. I was floating on cloud nine and the shift went by just as fast as it came. The club closed its doors at 2 a.m. so I sat in the locker room waiting on Lex whilst securing my much needed dick appointment.

  “Oh Eric baby, I need you to come through.” I purred on the phone as I played with a strand of my hair.

“Yes mam. Anything for you Z, you need anything?” He replied.

  “No boo, just you.” I said in a seductive tone, licking over my lips. Lex walked into the locker room with her duffle bags in hand before she set them down. She rushed to change out of her work attire to put on her jogger set. She glanced over at me on the phone before smirking.

  “Bitch come on!  Haas at the studio and he coming over tonight.” Lex teased as she collected her belongings to head for the door.“That whore ass nigga can wait, tell him to wait.” I retorted as I packed my bags, grabbing my duffles that was somewhat stuffed with money.

  Once I ended my phone call with Eric, I laughed then smirked at her as I gathered my duffles. This was our nightly routine after work, I would walk my best friend to her car then that was when my night would truly begin. I patiently waited for Lex to start her car and soon after I proceeded to walk toward my Benz. There was that feeling again that someone was watching me, their eyes undressing me. My skin had goosebumps forming and it gave me a bad vibe. I peeked out of my peripheral vision and tucked my hair behind my ear to see Mr. VIP from earlier that evening was outside this entire time observing us. Fuck that. I immediately thought as my hand slipped in my purse. When I pushed the remote to start my car he was already closer behind me.

“Yo excuse me..” he called.

My nostrils flared with irritation and once I was at my car door, I turned around tilting my head. “Yes?”

  “Is it too much to ask to have just your number?” He questioned.

“It is.. because I told you my policy. I don’t care who you are.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and opened the door before I felt him gripping my wrist tightly.

 I didn’t hesitate to let him meet  the barrel of my 9mm. He let go of my wrist and raised his hands in obvious surrender.

  “Now.. no means fucking no right?! What have we learned.” I lowered the gun to his chest then moved toward his groin. “I could shoot you right the fuck now and no one would ever know the wiser because it definitely look like you’re attacking me. Fuck off.”

  “You dangerous baby girl, shit a man would be lucky to have you.” He replied as he backed away.

“You have no idea.”

  A devilish little smirk curled on my lips as I got inside my car. I peeled off from the parking lot to rush home. Bitch nigga made me late for my fucking appointment.

HASAN “HAAS”

My eyes were closed as the liquor and weed invaded my system. My arousal was at its peak as I bobbed my head to the music blasting through the studio as it reached the back lounge.  I opened my eyes, scrolling through my phone as I puffed on my blunt, occasionally I’d make eye contact with Lex as she worked her mouth to devour my length. Her lips feeling amazing as she curled them to work my inches, licking over my lips I diverted my eyes back to my phone seeing a picture of Lex home girl. I never paid much attention to her other than when she’d serve a drink or give me a dirty look.

  Shorty was bad.

  The tattoos on her ass, her curves, in my mind she definitely peaked my interest already. I made a mental note and concentrated on busting my nut. When Lex bobbed her head forward I gripped the back of her head to hold her head there, a groan leaving my lips as I felt my dick twitching inside her throat.

“Fuck..” I unleashed a loud raspy groan as my load spilled into her mouth and in the back of her throat.

When Lex cleaned up her mess she stood up to try to take off her clothes, I looked at her with a chuckle.

  “What you taking your clothes off for? I gotta get back to work.”

“Haas... what bitch you fucking that I can’t get dick no more?” Lex frowned and her entire expression changed.

  “Aye yo! Don’t start that stupid shit tonight..” I sparked my blunt as I pulled my pants up, grabbing my hoodie.

  Lex stood up and threw her high heel at me, rushing over to punch me in my back before I grabbed her quickly by her neck to squeeze it roughly, hearing her struggle for air was making my dick hard.

  “Put your hands on me again it’ll be the last fucking time you do, bitch.” She loved provoking the other side of me.

When I finally let her go, she scrambled to get dressed then quickly left out of the lounge. I chuckled darkly then shook my head as I puffed on my blunt.

 Black was in the hall as he gave me a look as he dapped me up.

“Want me to go get her Haze?” Black chuckled.

“Nah let the bitch think about what she tried to do. Let’s get this work in so I can take my ass home.”

  “Aight bro.” Black said as he followed me back into the studio.

  Fuck her.

  It was time to get this money and time to get focused. I sent Rae a text message advising her I’d be at her crib tonight to finish what Lex started. Bitches really don’t know they giving up they position. I’m the wrong nigga to try to get over on. I sat at the mixing board with my mind roaming to that girl. It’s how she stared at me, that gaze alone made my dick hard. Her whole demeanor changed. It went from sweet to like she wanted to cut a nigga dick off. I needed some of that so I immediately went to Twitter to send a DM, letting the magic work. These hoes always replied. It just be a matter of time or a question of fact.

ZURI “Mmm.. fuck...yes!” I was struggling to hold back my orgasm as the drugs in my system had my clit throbbing, my eyes crossed just from how good he was eating my pussy. Every lick, the twirl of his tongue I could feel and hear which only made my pearl swell. I did my best to keep my moans low because my roommate Ziya could hear me on the other side of the walls even with music playing. My eyes rolled back, that familiar feeling, my ultimate climax was hitting me as my head tilted back and my toes pointed to the ceiling then balling up immediately.

  “SHIT!” I groaned in ecstasy, palming the  back of Eric’s head I rode his tongue. My hips moved in the same motion—up and down until finally that wave hit me. I saw that face again in my mind and I squirt. I gave him a good christening to the point he could have drowned, baptized him in the most nasty way. I was trying to catch my breath as he came up for air, wiping his hand down his face.

“You cum harder every time, did you miss me?” He asked in his English accent. “I have a bigger allowance for you this time.”

  “Maybe so.” I looked over at his glowing blue orbs, blowing a kiss before lighting another blunt. Inhaling the smoke I simply scrolled through my phone to see a DM from Hasan. I rolled my eyes and ignored the message, I’m sure he’d get the hint I didn’t fuck with him for real.

“Six grand. That covers your rent I’ll be paying you a visit at the club for more.”

 Eric reached over to spank my ass where my rose tattoo was, leaving down to kiss the back of my neck. It was the thought of him handing that money alone that had my pussy wet all over again. “I’d like to take you on a date again.”

  “I’m getting ready for school love but we can set it up, later.” I climbed out of bed and grabbed my robe, walking him out through the living room. I heard Ziya opening her bedroom door as I hugged Eric and telling him goodnight.

Upon shutting the door and turning on my heels, I locked the door then flashed a mischievous little smile. I wasn’t done having my fun just yet.

[charmingyong]

Pink Mountains

Pink chrysanthemums represent longevity and carry feelings of gentle affection, attraction, and romance, making them a great choice for first date and new love.

Definition of mountain boy: A shy boy who lives in secret, living a very good life and doesn’t let anyone push him down. His only weakness is the girl he falls in love with.

Genre: mountain boy!Taeyong x writer fem!reader, fluff (like a lot), bit of humour, pinch of angst

Warnings: scary story being told

Word count: 7k

Plot: You were in need for some new air to unleash creativity for the sake of your career. Going on a journey with your assistant Haechan, you ended up in a situation that had you colliding with a cute mountain boy... all because of the sheep.

A/N: Part of No More Roses collab hosted by @cosmiclatte28​. Turns out NCT 127’s Amino Acid sounds so nice with this story.

- ❀ -

You crouched down, getting closer to the head of the flower. The densely clustered pink florets on the flower head won your heart over the rest of the varieties growing on the flower farm.

“Noona!”

You looked up and found Haechan running to you. Standing up, you dusted the back of your denim shorts, your hiking boots slightly covered with specks of dirt. “Any luck?” you asked.

He shook his head, bending over and panted for air. “No.”

Humming, you looked around the area. You were standing in the midst of a huge flower field, and no one was in sight. A small house was located at the far end and so your assistant took up the task to search for the farm owner. Unfortunately, they didn’t appear to be available. You wanted to request a bouquet of pink and white flowers, particularly highlighting on the mums that had caught your attention.

Your gaze lurked around the mountains faraway, the destination of interest before getting side tracked by the beautiful floral land. Recently, you lacked inspiration and motivation to write or come up with creative ideas, and it greatly frustrated you. Haechan came up with a perfect solution of trekking among the wilderness to get your mind off the stress and for your physical well-being after having been glued to your desk for so long.

“I guess we’ll just try again when heading home,” you said. Your trip consisted of hiking for a couple of days and staying at a hotel for the night located nearby. You were only travelling on the peaks for however long you wanted before returning for the accommodation to rest. You weren’t craving to reach the end of the expedition but were doing it to cleanse your inner body for self-empowerment.

- ❀ -

“Hyung!” Taeyong jumped to his feet and jogged towards his brother who just walked into their small home. “Can I go out now?”

Taeil nodded. “Make sure to keep an eye on Dalmi.”

The younger one beamed and nodded, jittery on his feet and ready to burst out of the small cabin.

Taeil chuckled quietly and ruffled his baby brother’s hair, making Taeyong let out a small squeal. “Okay, go. Be careful out there and don’t get hurt.”

“Thanks, hyung!” Taeyong shouted over his shoulder and was out the door in seconds. His eyes gazed upward and shielded his head with a hand as the sun beat down, smiling at the wonderful afternoon sky decorated with fluffy clouds. “Alright, Dalmi. Let’s see how you’re doing, girl,” he muttered to himself and dashed for where he would find the German shepherd guarding the sheep flock.

-

“Left or right?” you asked.

Haechan observed the two paths at the fork. “Left looks promising, but right one seems interesting.”

You huffed. “That doesn’t help.”

He spotted stones off to the side and picked two up of different sizes. Haechan outstretched both his arms towards you, fists closed. “Let the stones decide. The big stone for left path and small one for right.”

Your finger pointed towards his left hand, and he uncurled both of his fists. The stone of your selection was smaller than the other one.

“Well then,” Haechan chucked the stones away, dusting the dirt off his palms. “We’re going right.”

After a while into the trek, the sun had reached its highest in the sky. You thought you were going to see more dirt, stones and trees, but what laid before your eyes was something you never thought you’d see in person.

“Oh my goodness! Are those sheep?” your voice came out loud and laced in disbelief. A flock of sheep was confined within a large, fenced pasture.

Haechan panted for breath and dropped his body to the ground for rest, plopping on top of the only backpack that he was responsible for between the two of you. His eyes landed on what you were staring at and nodded. “It is,” he muttered faintly while gasping for air.

Your hands itched to pet the adorably harmless animal and so without any fear, your feet shuffled into a near sprint for the fencing.

Taeyong arrived at the perimeter of the sheep pasture right in time to find a couple of strangers at another end. He observed the young boy who looked like he was ready to pass out, and then shifted his attention to you fast approaching the prohibited area.

Both him and Taeil raised Dalmi to protect the sheep as its location was bound to have hikers stumble upon it. So you trespassing the barrier into a space where the German Shepherd was not going to be happy to see you in made him feel uneasy. Usually, other trekkers would slowly approach the field and before they’d get too close, Dalmi would do her job by scaring them off with her barks.

What would Dalmi do in your situation? More than just bark.

Your eyes were fixed solely on the white fluffy sheep and were almost halfway to them... until you heard the sound of a dog barking. Your steps slowed to a stop and your head whipped around to find the guardian of the flock coming for you at full speed. You were usually chill with dogs, never having encountered a problem with them. But when bigger breeds, especially ones that snarled angrily like the way this one did, you had a bad feeling that you were in big trouble.

Haechan realized the danger and screamed for you. “Noona! What the hell are you standing there for? Get the hell out!” He shot to his feet and began darting for the pasture.

But you couldn’t. Your body refused to listen to your assistant when your eyes were wide in fear while staring at the incoming danger. This was going to be the end of your so-called self-empowerment expedition.

“Noona, move!” Haechan yelled with his neck turning red.

Taeyong was already on his way for you, making a full sprint to save you from Dalmi.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the worst. Just when the barks from the dog were loud enough to have physically attacked you in a second, you felt a body ram into you, making you both fall hard to the ground with them on top of you, shielding you from the dog. If Haechan were on top of you, then the dog wouldn’t be standing beside you growling like the way it did.

It would have bitten both of you.

And Haechan wouldn’t tackle you to the ground like that. He would have taken your hand and dragged you out of the fenced land.

When you confusedly opened your eyes, your breath was taken away by a pair of big brown eyes, wholly captivating you as if you were saved by a prince from a fairy tale. Your heart pounded furiously the more the cute boy gawked at you innocently, neither of you bothering to move from the position.

Taeyong’s eyes were wide as a maddening blush crept up to his cheeks by the intimacy. Not once in his life had he ever get close with a girl, let alone be on top of one like the way he currently was. He snapped out when he heard the young boy call for you. “Noona!”

Taeyong turned his head to look at Dalmi and shot up to his feet, quickly hugging her in a way to stop her from moving an inch near you. “Sorry,” he uttered timidly to you, avoiding your eyes while hoping that you couldn’t hear how loud his heart thumped for you.  

You blinked at him and sat up on the grass. By then, Haechan had caught up to you. “Noona, are you okay?” he asked, and pulled you up to your feet, shaking off the bits of grass that clung to your hair which was the least of your worries.

Still dazed by what you had experienced, less about the dog and more the beautiful boy, you only hummed with a nod.

Haechan faced Taeyong and bowed profusely. “We’re so sorry about this. Noona, say something! Else, he could sue us for trespassing his property!” he told you.

You snapped back into your senses. “Oh yes. Really, I didn’t mean to do any harm. I only wanted to pet the sheep. They looked so cute. I’m sorry...” You ended your slight rambling with puppy eyes and a pout that made Taeyong’s heart flutter. “Thank you for saving me,” you smiled kindly at him. You couldn’t believe he saved you despite you being a stranger that lurked into his pasture.

Taeyong’s ears tipped red by your gratitude. “S’okay,” he responded, brushing it off like it was nothing he did there.

Haechan shook his head. “No, seriously though. That was some heroic dive he did there, putting his body between you and the dog. He was like a bullet when he ran to save you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Woah, for me? You are a really nice person. What’s your name?”

Taeyong pressed his lips together as he shied a little from your compliment. “Taeyong,” he answered softly.

You smiled tenderly at him, making his heart ready to combust. “Thank you, Taeyong. I’m Y/N.”

He met your gaze fully, your name sounding like music to his ears. “Hi Y/N,” he spoke ever so softly like he was in awe of your beautiful eyes. You noticed it and felt a slight heat rush to your cheeks. This time you went shy.

Haechan flailed his arms to get Taeyong’s attention. “And I’m Haechan!” he introduced himself loud and dramatic, which made Taeyong shake out of his daze, returning a quick smile to him.

Taeyong remembered the reason for your entry and suggested, “Um, you can pet the sheep. They won’t harm you.”

Nodding, you knew that. The sheep were defenseless. The issue was the other animal that led you into the mess. “Yeah but...” you trailed off, looking at the dog that kept snarling and growling at you.

Taeyong realized your concern. “Don’t worry about Dalmi. I’ll keep her away.”

Haechan’s face brightened and turned to the dog, bending down to her level. “Oh, so your name is Dalmi. How cute,” he tried to coo in efforts to befriend her, but she only barked loudly at his face. Startled, Haechan fell backward onto his butt. “Oh my God, she’s feisty.”

Taeyong nodded. “Dalmi isn’t the type to socialize with strangers. She’s very loyal to her owners.”

Your brows raised. “Owners? Oh, do you live with someone?”

“Yeah, Taeil, my older brother. He’s my only family.”

You hummed at his response and wondered how his lifestyle was like. “Do you mind if you showed us around here?”

-

Taeil handed you and Haechan prepared cups of mountain tea, a special herb only grown on elevated levels. You thanked him and took a small sip of the earthy and floral tea, your lips tilting upward at the flavour. “This is really good. It has this mild sweet taste I like.”

Taeil smiled at your comment. “It’ll taste even better with some honey and cinnamon. Right now’s the perfect season for mountain tea. I can pack you some to take home. It’s a great herbal medicine as well.”

You gasped at him at his astonishingly kind gesture. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much!”

Taeil nodded and looked at his younger brother. Taeyong couldn’t remove his eyes from you as he stood shyly off to the side while you and your assistant sat side by side on the chairs with Taeil sitting across from you.

Your eyes skimmed around their cabin, small yet cozy and rustic style with simple wooden furniture everywhere. “You have a nice home. It must be fun living on the mountains,” you complimented genuinely. It was a stark contrast to your modern luxurious loft back home, and you liked that their home was practically in touch with mother nature.

Taeil’s lips curved up slightly as he painfully recalled his late mother’s wish. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You noticed the tone in his voice not being as bright as before, and then recollected your words, realizing what you had said. “Oh... it must be lonely for you guys, isn’t it?”

Taeil looked down at his lap and let out a quiet sigh. “Our mother passed away after giving birth to Taeyong. I’ve raised Taeyong myself, feeding him, taking him to a nearby town for school. But he keeps to himself, not making many friends. He’s too shy to interact with trekkers, only keeping watch from a distance to make sure the sheep aren’t harmed and Dalmi doesn’t hurt anyone.” Pausing briefly, he shifted his eyes to look at Taeyong. “I’m surprised Taeyong went as far as bringing you to our home,” he commented with a soft smile.

Taeyong met his hyung’s gaze and looked away quickly, gulping down the emotions threatening to burst from his heart.

Your lips formed an ‘oh’ while listening to their lonely life, your heartstrings tugging especially upon learning the way Taeyong lived his life. “I can see why Taeyong grew up to have a very beautiful soul. It’s all thanks to you,” you smiled sincerely at Taeil and then turned your head to look at the timid boy.

Taeyong fidgeted with his fingers as he stole a risky glance for you, his heart thumping louder when seeing your angelic smile for him.

- ❀ -

Haechan let out a childish whine as his grip on the backpack straps loosened. “Why couldn’t I stay back with Taeil and give him company?” he complained.

You rolled your eyes at him, following Taeyong’s lead easily. “And you said I needed to move around. Clearly, you need it more than me.”

“You’re the one that sells stories! Your brain needs more oxygen than me. Plus, I’m the only one carrying a bag!”

Taeyong stopped to give the younger boy a break. Taeil had suggested his brother to show them around the mountains, more specifically the secret views located off the normal trail. Taeyong had already shown you and Haechan a special stream of water flowing down the mountain, so clean that it was perfect for drinking. You were amazed by how wonderful it tasted, especially when it was Taeyong’s hands that were cupped to let you sip the water he collected. Taeyong smiled ecstatically while leading you to the next attraction. “We’re almost there,” he informed you, lending a hand to you at a challenging step.

Gracefully smiling at the gesture, you grabbed his hand and pulled yourself up, your heart alighting at the simple touch. “Great! Let’s get there already. Haechan will catch up when he’s ready.”

Haechan scoffed. “Now you’ll leave me behind to become the bear’s dinner?”

Taeyong shook his head and helped the young boy up. “Don’t worry. There’s no bears here. At least not on this path.”

After you and Taeyong resumed hiking, Haechan grew worried in case the bears were feeling adventurous and gathered up his strength to follow you quickly. “Wait for me!”

From a distance, you spotted a wide field of colours covering the grass and realized what Taeyong had led you to. “Woah...” you breathed out.

Taeyong grinned, ecstatic to show you something so mesmerizing. He walked closer to the wildflowers and crouched down to the floral level. “There’s pink mountain heathers, paintbrushes that hummingbirds love, spring beauties, and subalpine daisies.”

Your eyes drank in the beauty of the wildflowers thriving on the mountains, particularly your gaze landing on the pink mountain heathers, its colour nearly resembling the pink chrysanthemums located at the base of the mountains. “They’re so beautiful,” you murmured breathlessly, making Taeyong pleased to have shown you the rare beauties.

Haechan puffed hard and looked up at the sky. “It looks like the sun will go down soon.”

You forcibly removed your eyes from the delicate beauties and sadly agreed. “We should start heading back for the accommodation. We’ll come back tomorrow,” you smiled at Taeyong, hoping that you would at least see him again one more time before heading back home.

Taeyong didn’t want to part from you just yet, but he couldn’t be selfish. He would just have to wait for tomorrow to see you one more time. “Okay, but the sun will go down really fast. Will you be okay to find your way down? Should I come with you?”

You shook your head frantically. “No, please don’t. I don’t want to trouble you. I’m sure Haechan and I will find our way down. Right, Haechan?” You turned to your assistant and waited for a confirmation.

Haechan put his hand in his pocket, his expression changing to panic when he couldn’t locate his phone. He checked all his pockets and even got down to check inside the backpack, not finding the device anywhere. His hands went up to his hair in stress. “I don’t know where my phone is,” he admitted, his voice laced in stress. “We need flashlight.”

If Haechan had dropped his phone somewhere on the mountain, then it was nearly impossible to backtrack every step to search for it, especially after taking paths without any markings. Fishing out your phone from your pocket, you said, “Don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one. I can use the flashlight on my phone.” After multiple attempts to switch your phone on, you realized that your phone was dead and asked your assistant for the portable bank.

Chuckling nervously, Haechan said, “I don’t have it.”

You gaped at him. “How do you not have that?”

“I thought we’d be at the hotel before needing it!” he defended.

You groaned quietly. “Fine, I’ll just charge at the cabin.” You turned to Taeyong to ask if that was fine until you noticed the blank look on his face.

“We don’t have electricity,” he confessed gently.

-

Taeyong led you back to the cabin just in time before it got pitch dark, the cabin being dimly lit by lanterns. “Hyung!” He called out for his brother as he stepped inside.

Taeil appeared from the kitchen and his eyes landed on you and Haechan. “Oh, you’re still here?”

Taeyong nodded. “Yeah, they need light to get down the mountain. Where’s the flashlight?”

The older brother thought for a moment, not being able to recall the last spot he placed it. “I don’t remember. We hardly use that since we don’t go out at night much.”

You panicked. “What? Wait, so we’re stuck with going down the mountains in the dark? No way, I’m not doing that.” The safety hazard was real without any light source and not seeing what would be ahead of you. One wrong footing and the next thing you’d know was that you were injured, or dead.

“What’s gonna happen to our hotel reservation?” Haechan asked. “You already paid for it!”

Your feet tapped repeatedly out of agitation and pressed your lips together tightly, a crease visible between your brows. Money was the least of your concern. You simply wanted a safe place to rest for the night. How were you going to get that?

Taeyong’s heart cracked when seeing your panic. He turned to his brother, silently pleading him to help you in any way.

Smiling, Taeil offered, “You can stay here for the night.”

-

The campfire crackled as you sat on a log near it, the fire warmly lighting up the vicinity. Taeyong came to you from behind and draped a blanket over your form. You looked at him over your shoulder. “Oh, thank you, Taeyong,” you muttered with your heart going fuzzy at the warm gesture.

He smiled in return and sat down on a log adjacent to yours next to his brother who had prepared the campfire. Taeil watched Taeyong sit down beside him and noticed a blush on the younger one’s cheeks.

Haechan plopped down beside you, his hands occupied with a warm cup of tea that Taeyong had prepared for him. “So you guys just stare at the fire for some time and go to sleep?” Haechan asked and took a sip of his tea, releasing a satisfying sigh.

Nodding, Taeil added, “Sometimes we stargaze, play games, I even tell Taeyong some stories.”

Haechan’s face brightened at the mention of stories. “Oh, do you have any scary mountain stories to share with us?” he asked Taeil.

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Scary mountain stories?”

“Yeah! Like any rumours around the mountains that people are spooked out about?” he asked the Tae brothers.

Taeyong never heard of any shared by his brother and much to Haechan’s disappointment, Taeil shook his head. “No, I haven’t heard of any.”

With a huff, Haechan put his half-finished cup down on the ground and clasped his hands together. “Well then, let me enlighten you all of one. Have you heard of the legend of Spearfinger?” Haechan asked.

Taeyong shook his head with a small pout while Taeil answered, “Never heard of that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Probably not real then.”

Haechan shushed you. “Decide whether it’s real or not after I tell you the legend.”

Exhaling out of your nose, you turned your body to face him and paid full attention to him.

Haechan cleared his throat, getting ready to tell the spooky tale. “There’s a monster who lurks around the peaks of the mountains named Spearfinger. A shape-shifting witch who has a long blade on her forefinger and could take form of many creatures like a fox, bear, bird, even as an old woman.”

Your confident upright form deflated a little. It wasn’t scary just yet, but you were worried in which direction it was heading.

“Know what she feeds off of?” he asked you.

You shook your head.

He smirked ominously. “Human livers.”

You gasped quietly as chills crept up your spine.

“She would stalk her prey through the mountains. She could take the shape of a known person in the village.” Haechan stopped and looked at the three of you listening to him. “Who knows if she’s among us?”

You released a small noise of fear and hugged the blanket more tightly, curling yourself into a ball.

Haechan continued. “Nowadays, hikers get spooked by the sound of leaves rustling or being watched from afar because was it a squirrel that passed by or...” He paused to add a dramatic effect. “Was it Spearfinger?”

Your heart got stuck in your throat as you no longer feeling the calming effects of sitting by the campfire. All you wanted to do was go home to your comfy luxe bed, not be stuck in the wilderness for a potential shape-shifting witch to devour your vital organ. “Is this actually true?” Your voice was faint and weak, wholeheartedly scared for your life.

Taeyong noticed your fear throughout the story-telling and longed to comfort you any way that made you feel safe. Never in his life had he ever been afraid of anything in the wilderness, thanks to his brother teaching him all the essentials early in his life. So he knew there was nothing to be afraid of. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe here,” he reassured, hoping it could provide some relief.

Taeil offered for you and Haechan to sleep inside while the brothers slept outdoor by the fire. You rustled the sheets on the upper part of the bunk bed, the story still haunting you as if the Spearfinger was just centimeters away.

Haechan called you from below. “Noona, are you awake?”

You let out a long breath. “Yeah, thanks to you,” you muttered. You heard Haechan move underneath you and wondered why he asked you. “What is it?” you asked.

But he didn’t answer.

“Haechan?”

Suddenly, it was pin-drop silent and you had a bad feeling for what could be coming your way.

“This isn’t funny, Haechan. Don’t you dare try to pull something,” you warned him.

Still silent.

Sitting up on the bed, you shifted to take a peek over to see what Haechan was doing in his bed. But right before you could, Haechan shot his head up and went “Boo!” with eyes wide like saucers. He had been waiting on the stairs sneakily to scare you at the right time.

Usually, something like that would only have you startled and clutching your heart from the small scare. But adding up the tension from the scary story, you let out a long high-pitched scream.

Taeyong jolted up from the ground, rubbing his sleepy eyes when hearing your scream from inside the cabin, while Taeil pretended to continue sleeping. “I’m sure it’s because of Haechan,” he told his little brother, well aware of the mischievousness the young boy had in his eyes when telling the tale earlier.

Taeyong’s eyes were glued to the front door, wondering if he should go inside and check up on you or not, but that wasn’t necessary when it suddenly bursted open and you stormed right out. Your stomps softened when realizing that the owners of the cabin were outside and one of them was fast asleep, at least that was what you thought.

You sheepishly smiled at Taeyong and went to sit on a log near him. Taeyong cleared his throat and asked, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Letting out a constrained groan, you told him, “Haechan decided to scare me while I’m already...” you trailed off wondering if you sounded like a scaredy cat. “Sorry,” you mumbled, hanging your head low.

Taeyong shook his head feverishly. “No, don’t say sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about. As long as you’re okay.”

You scoffed. “I wonder if I will be with the way my night is going. I’m too scared to sleep.” Just then, you heard something rustle from afar and you panicked, going into full alert mode as your heart raced. “What was that?”

Both you and Taeyong knew that it was only the leaves swaying due to the slight wind, but you couldn’t help thinking that it could be the damn Spearfinger. Taeyong frowned when seeing your distress, desperate to help you in any way possible and calm you down. “Y/N, want me to sleep next to you? I can save you from Spearfinger like the way I saved you from Dalmi,” he spoke softly, watching your reaction carefully with glimmering eyes.

You stilled at his words. Yes, you wanted that. Maybe Taeyong could help you fall fast asleep, knowing that you would be saved by him if anything were to happen. “Really? Can you?” Your voice was weak, hope bubbling in your chest to at last ease the nerve bundles in your body.

Taeyong smiled gently, giving you an assured nod. He would do anything to keep you safe. “Of course.” He readjusted the blanket on the ground and scooted over, patting on the space next to him. “Come here.”

You cautiously moved to lay down on the ground, your head resting on the pillow that he was previously using before he used his bent arm as one. You settled yourself comfortably beside his figure and he covered you with the spare blanket, sheltering your body from the slight chill of the night. Taeyong made sure that you were safe and warm before letting sleep take over.

Taeil opened his eyes to check up on his brother. He could read Taeyong easily and with full confidence knew that Taeyong was in love with you. So when Taeil found you cuddled against Taeyong’s warmth and Taeyong smiling like a child who received the biggest Christmas present ever, Taeil knew that it was time.

- ❀ -

You thanked Taeil for the breakfast, slowly spooning the rice porridge down your throat. Taeyong was out of sight, which disheartened you as your plan for today was to leave.

Haechan looked as if he hadn’t eaten anything in days with the way he scoffed the food down. “Woah, I didn’t realize I’d be this hungry. Thanks, Taeil.”

The older boy smiled. “No problem. I’m assuming you’ll be heading home now?”

Haechan nodded. “Yup. But it’d be a shame to not see Taeyong before we leave. Right noona?”

Your face didn’t change to mask the disappointment. Taeil noticed it, saying, “He’ll be back soon. He wanted to bring something for you, Y/N.”

You were surprised that the boy had gone out to get you something. What could he be possibly getting you?  

The door clicked open and your head whipped in that direction, finding the boy that you had been desperate to see before your departure. Abandoning your half-eaten meal, you rushed to Taeyong. “Where were you?” you asked him.

You didn’t notice that he had one hand behind his back, and when he brought it forward, you were stunned. In his grasp was an arrangement of the purple, pink and white wildflowers that you saw during your hike with him. “I got this for you,” he said, doing his best to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Your heart beat erratically, making it harder to indifferently part ways soon. “Thank you so much, Taeyong.”

He pursed his lips, not knowing what else to say to you. And then he remembered something. “Oh! I found this phone. Is this Haechan’s?” Taeyong showed you the phone and Haechan gasped.

“That’s mine!” he shouted and jumped to his feet, making a dash to be reunited with the cellular device. “Thank you so much, Taeyong! Where did you find it?”

Taeyong smiled. “It seems like you lost it while we were hiking up to the flowers yesterday.”

That made sense to Haechan as he struggled to keep up with the difficult path and along the way, the phone slipped out of his pocket. “Ah! Right! Wow... Noona, he’s been so helpful ever since we got here. Isn’t he amazing?”

You let out a sad sigh and forced a small smile across your lips.

After breakfast, you and Haechan now stood right outside the cabin, preparing your heart to bid them farewell.

“I guess we’ll be leaving now,” you spoke weakly, trying your best to keep your tears at bay and not let them see.

Though, Taeyong could feel his heart agonize at the possibility of not seeing you again.

Haechan, like the sunshine he was, beamed at Taeil. “Thank you so much for everything, and for packing us some food.”

Taeil mirrored back a gentle smile. “Of course. Please come again.”

“We will.” Haechan turned to you and said, “Let’s go, noona.” With one final happy wave at the Tae brothers, he began travelling down the hill.

Your feet felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as it refused to listen to your assistant. With difficulty, you first thanked Taeil for all his kind gestures, and then landed your gaze on Taeyong, the uncomfortable ball rising quickly to your throat. “Thank you, Taeyong. For everything. Bye,” you curtly muttered and spun on your heel, taking slow steps away from them as your grasp on the wildflowers tightened.

Taeil watched his younger brother’s reaction carefully, noticing the shock registered on Taeyong’s face and the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became heavier. Taeyong was desperate to do anything but say goodbye to you, but this was the reality that his poor heart had to soon accept.

That was when Taeil put his plan to action. “Y/N, wait!”

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around, confused why he called for you.

Taeil smiled softly and asked, “How do you feel about taking Taeyong with you?”

You gaped at Taeil and your heart soared at the possibility of the moment not being the end to your love story. Meanwhile, Taeyong’s jaw dropped as he stared incredulously at his brother. “Hyung...”

Taeil had thought about it all night long and couldn’t bear to let the perfect opportunity go. “Taeyong, Mother always wished for us to live a better life. What’s better than Y/N being with you?”

Taeyong’s eyes welled up at the sacrifice his brother was making for him to live his life. But he didn’t want to leave his precious brother alone. “But hyung, what about you?”

Taeil chuckled quietly. “Don’t worry about me, really. I have Dalmi and the sheep. Mother and I will be so happy for you.”

Taeyong couldn’t bear to cage his emotions and wailed. “Hyung, thank you so much.”

Taeil laughed and wrapped his arms around his little brother, patting his head to soothe the big baby down. “Silly, if you miss me, tell them to bring you here for a visit.”

-

“Woah, that’s so cool of Taeil to do that. And Taeyong, you too. That’s a bold move, leaving your old life for the city,” Haechan remarked from the back seat.

Taeyong blushed as he kept his eyes fixed on the floral in his lap, holding it for you while your hands were fixed on the steering wheel. He side-glanced to see you smiling again, making him very happy to see you like this unlike your gloomy state earlier when you were to part ways with him.

You nodded brightly. “Yes Taeyong, I’ll make sure you’ll love the city so you won’t miss your old home much. I promise to take you to Taeil whenever you say.” You quickly glanced at him and added, “I don’t want to see you sad.”

Taeyong’s heart bloomed that you cared for him to a great extent. “Thanks,” he uttered ever so quietly.

Haechan raised a point. “What is Taeyong going to do? He doesn’t have any qualifications.”

You bobbed your head and thought of the greatest idea. “Didn’t you say he’s helpful? He can be our assistant.”

The young boy’s eyes bulged out in shock. “What? You’re gonna replace me? Not on my watch!” he yelled.

“No, dummy, I would never kick you out. I meant Taeyong can be like your assistant, so you’ll be teaching him things and have him run little errands. Basically, you’re his boss.”

Haechan calmed down immediately and leaned back into the leather seat, smirking. “Oh, I like that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the rear-view mirror. “Don’t you dare take advantage of it. He’s your hyung now.”

Taeyong listened to your conversation with Haechan quietly as he stared at the bundle of wildflowers that he brought for you, his eyes in particular glued to the pink chrysanthemums that you bought from a floral farm before leaving the mountains. He beamed at the idea of spending more time with you, his heart pounding and giddily bounced his feet as he stared out the window at the moving fields, waiting to start the next chapter of his life.

Once the car entered into the city, Taeyong’s eyes sparkled at the pretty downtown life, the polar opposite to what he had grown up to seeing on the mountains, even in the town situated near them. The town never had any building above three-storeys, pedestrians were scarce, and vehicles maneuvered around the one-lane streets for cars. Just meters away, his eyes took in the never-ending tall buildings, numerous pedestrians walking left and right, and multi-lane streets with cars, buses, and taxis.

Unlocking the door to your loft apartment, you stepped in, followed by Haechan with your backpack and a duffel that was supposed to have been used at the hotel, dumping the bags on the couch in the living space.

Taeyong timidly walked in with the flowers and a small bag, not owning many belongings and you made a mental note to take him shopping later. His eyes skimmed around the luxurious apartment and was in awe of how massive and elegant it was compared to the cabin. “This is your home?” he asked. It looked more like he was taken to a five-star hotel.

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yup. I hope you’ll like it and it’ll feel like home for you soon.”

Taeyong tried to suppress his excitement as he didn’t mind being anywhere as long as it was with you.

“Oh right, you can give me the flowers. I’ll put them on display,” you said, stretching your arms out for them. He nodded and handed them over carefully. You headed for the kitchen to find a clear glass vase and he followed you like a cute puppy. Preparing the vase with cold water, you arranged the wildflowers so that the pink chrysanthemums stood out with one head sitting atop of the rest. Taeyong’s heart blossomed when seeing you adore the varieties. He loved spending time with nature and appreciating the beauty of the physical world with it.

Your fingertips felt the delicate petals and suddenly, an idea struck you. “Oh my God,” you breathed out and screamed for the assistant. “Haechan!”

He showed up quickly, looking panicked. “What happened?”

“Show Taeyong around. He can have the guest room.” You beamed as your heart pulsed with the adrenaline rush. “I’m going to get some work done.”

-

Haechan guided Taeyong to a room, a mahogany library and study space with brown leather couches and coffee tables. The older one was amazed by the vast bookcases to hold thousands of books for you. Haechan made a beeline to a particular section, his fingers running along the spines of the books that you wrote. “These are noona’s,” he informed proudly. “She uses this room to relax, get ideas, and of course read. She usually uses the small den we have to write without distractions.”

Taeyong slowly sauntered up to your books, his fingers glazing over the endless hours of your diligence and passion. “She did all this?”

Haechan smiled and nodded like a happy child. “This is all thanks to the assistance I provided her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be selling such successful stories. Now that you’re here, let’s help noona write even more stories so she can keep treating us to good stuff.”

- ❀ -

Taking a writing break, you drove your two assistants to a shopping center, particularly for the newbie. You held shirts after shirts against Taeyong’s chest, nodding in approval of ones that looked good on him and chucked it at Haechan to hold. You found it cute that Taeyong looked like a baby new to the world, his eyes lighting up when seeing products like watches and jewelry sparkle under the store lighting. Every item that had him captivated, you would try to buy it all for him, only to have him persistently stop you after seeing its price tag and reasoned that he would never wear such luxuries on him.

After having dinner at a restaurant that had Taeyong exploding with animated expressions, evidently displaying his love for the new tastes, it was time to wrap up for the night. You headed to check up on Taeyong in the guest room, only to find him grimly sitting cross-legged on the bed with his head hanging low. You knocked on the open door with worry, and he looked up, giving you a small forced smile.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently and walked up to him, sitting beside him on the bed.

He hugged his legs to his chest, hoping that it would give him some comfort. “I miss hyung. I’m worried if he’s okay.”

That was bound to happen and luckily, you had prepared for it. “Don’t worry about him. I gave him mine and Haechan’s phone number so he’d call us whenever he’s in town by a phone booth.”

Taeyong looked at you in surprise. “You did?”

You smiled and nodded. “He promised he’ll call us everyday so you two can check up on each other. He knew you were going to worry so he told me to tell you this.”

He chuckled quietly, releasing a huge relieved breath. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, to make you feel better?”

Taeyong hummed for a bit, debating whether to tell you or not. “There is but... I don’t know if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m sure I will be. What is it?”

With hesitant eyes, he faintly asked, “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

You blinked at his adorable request. “Bedtime story?” you asked with a growing smile.

He timidly nodded. “Hyung would always tell me one whenever I had trouble sleeping. I’m sorry if it’s too much to ask,” he muttered while fidgeting with his fingers.

Taeyong’s cuteness was too much for you to handle, and so you gently pinched his cheek, making him startle. “Sorry, it’s just such a cute request. Of course, I can tell you a bedtime story. If I couldn’t, I’d doubt my capabilities as a writer.”

His lips stretched so wide that you were afraid it’d rip apart if it went any broader, his nose scrunching up slightly with his eyes forming beautiful crescents.

After a while, Haechan was searching for you, not finding you anywhere. He thought about asking Taeyong in his room and that was where he found you, sitting against the headboard of the bed with Taeyong’s head in your lap and your hand resting on his hair where you were previously stroking him gently while telling him a story. Both of you now sound asleep.

- ❀ -

Taeyong looked up at the scary menu board, his heart racing with anxiety. He turned to you, silently asking for help with puppy eyes and a small pout. You chuckled and asked him, “Do you like sweet or bitter?”

His face cringed at the mention of bitter. “I love sweet.”

Nodding, your eyes scanned over the drinks menu and asked the barista for a caramel frappuccino and americano, adding a sliced chocolate cake. “I think you’ll like what I picked. Of course, not the americano.”

Before ending up at a café, you were working in the den when Taeyong suddenly showed up and he wanted to watch you work. He would just sit quietly next to you as he watched you type, but his mere presence was a huge distraction for you. It felt as if you were ignoring a ball of fluff, one that didn’t need your attention... but your attention needed it. That was when you decided to take Taeyong around the streets.

While waiting for your order at a table, Taeyong heard some sounds of girls whispering and giggling among themselves at a table behind you. He leaned his body to the side to take a curious peek at them and noticed that they were actually looking straight at him. One of the girls let out a squeak and covered her mouth when seeing Taeyong look right at them.

He grew anxious and shrunk himself in his seat, hoping your body would block him from the girls’ view. You noticed what he was doing and figured out what was going on based on the hushed noises behind you. “Taeyong?”

He nervously met your gaze.  

You sent him a reassuring smile. “Just like the way you protected me on the mountains, I’ll protect you in the city. Including those girls.”

[mellifluousgoldencrystal7]

A-757.) Clandestine Hangout That Defined Our Graphs of Life Op.79-757

A-757.) Clandestine Hangout That Defined Our Graphs of Life Op.79-757 

. 

Genesis of how the string was knitted 

Begins when everything was greeted by 

A simple ask for Wochenende 

Hangout together of two of us 

Located at our usual place to take spent our dedicated timing there 

And as a surprise that I always wanted to give in this part of celebration that sweetens the situation 

Even greatly, this is the grand premiere of this exquisite activity 

As it was engraved on the bouquet of German-pink roses 

To present just for you as my gratitude 

Just minutes way before the main thing should begin at the screening theater 

Of one of the recent films that was offered to the public I thought this gonna do all too well just like the aforementioned, ... 

Until when I drive & dive further south, 

that wasn't the case at all for these pastimes 

On the way to the city prominent Altstadt 

With its holiday vibes that never sleeps 

A question from him that started normally and "innocent" enough, albeit with difficulties to answer 

Turns into one of the most revealing, heartbreaking moments of our friendship that we just can't help ourselves to stabilize at that checkpoint 

 At first, I'm ready to hear it with my heart accepting every word you gave, even at the gradual steps of acknowledging

 But deep down on the revelation that sparkled loud & clear 

That was when everything tumbling down rapidly, 

and my emotion was given a total shocked so wide,

 that I couldn't comprehend anymore, 

everything was flowing out of our tears in the greatest silence, like nothingness 

I tried my best to always giving you all of my golden hour, pastel sky, rainbow, lovely touch and greatest warm, every time, everywhere, at constant rate and at glad 

However, it seems the black cloud, heavy storm, thick mist, and strong rain overshadowed everything those beautiful elements I gave into your life all the time 

Because the dark things I only know by the time we poured all of our sorrow, pain, deeply cut into the core into the one same bowl, at the same time where the rock-bottom finally greets us for few minutes with grimes from the scale of problems of our own that varies but still too unpleasant 

 In the loneliness of the greens 

Before we decided start climbing back again into the gorge, stronger as we reminded by the graceful, gorgeous film we created together from our connected memories all these times and those specific shots that we're always grateful and love from the cross-state journey 

In the Rhineland area that gave out a lot of glees and loves regardless the situation has brought us into the trench 

As, we always remember the grace of the Lord in Heaven, that we will eventually achieved the happiness that we always searching together in the haunted mystic forest by the path he gave us towards for from the prayer that hopefully defines the new chapter of our better selves 

Comforting both of us with the words that lift us into the normal state as we wiped our sorrow that moment 

And as far saying this out loud "as a friend, I love you, man / als Freund, ich liebe dich, Mann" with the greatest, intensive touch I had given to him to ensure he's feeling going back up as I remember 

Proving I will standby to be there for him, even when the situation is too volatile 

Then, we stand up from that special me-time that all about grieving 

To brighten up the situation by walking to the place to enjoy some cold sweets 

Both of us enjoy the scoops at every given second that cranks up our serotonin & dopamine, simultaneously 

 At the iconic promenade avenue, happened at the golden hour of the city graciously blessed near us 

Sculpting even further beautifulness and the lovings that we tried to rebuilt after those crumbling of heartache that we both experienced previously 

And as we have filled the promises of our prayers & thoughts in that time, but at a concrete action 

We walked in our turbocharged-feeling through our way from the Altstadt all the way to Hauptbahnhof 

Romantically, we were happy to see that what the Ecclesiastes told shines around us on our path in the city has brought the new us in the horizon of hope Inside out at the slowly-but-certain growth 

Mellifluous in the greatness that we exchanged throughout the final leg of the hangout that we commenced Including the area that known well in the city that brought enormous of joyfulness & memories since the beginning I step my foot in this country 

And when that final leg has to arrive in front of us to say (temporary) fare well 

For us to achieve what we want to do in that trench period I was ready than before to do it and without any tears dropping into the soil anymore 

But that fare well isn't ending that plainly I decided to accompany 

Before that S-Bahn arrived & departed from (Düsseldorf) Hauptbahnhof at :53 

I gave him all the warmest friendly-touch and greenest affirmation of booster-word on the spot and promised myself that 

I always gonna be steadfast/ironclad in the next gate and to demise my tears at the day as I did spare all of tears that I should shred that day from that sorrow 

Plus, in addition to the that, gestures that reaffirmed great affection that I always to share with you 

Behind the transparent window interchangeable between us that felt our heartfelt the warmest it ever gets, regardless your background and burden that has been put you to hell 

By the time the train starts shifting forward, that gestures intensify and fade at blink of a second that still have the same impact just like the usual 

Sure, that's the end of our hangout that day we are commemorating 

But, we hope, the eternal of our deeply-close friendship is the one we hiked the mountain together and achieved it like no other, in this color spectrum of life and connection 

Dear Andrew, thank you for coming into my life with glad and widest inclusiveness I owed you my indebtedness 

With those indelible memories... 

From the clandestine hangout that defined our graphs of life

[lilietsblog]

In honor of just how epically my Russian name post blew up, here’s how you can make up your own Russian names

To be clear, most actually used Russian names are borrowed from Greek or Hebrew and Russianified, so the names you make up by THIS method won’t be common or occasionally even pre-existent. This is for when you want to make up a fantasy not-Russia that’s still clearly Russian in language but doesn’t have the same greek-borrowing history. It’ll sound antiquated, alt-history, slightly weird and definitely Russian as all heck.

Set of first halves:

- Vladi (means “power/ownership”)

- Yaro (means “passionately”)

- Veli (means “great”)

- Sviato (Svyato) (means “saint/sacred”)

- Miro (means “peace/world”)

- Meche (means “sword”)

- Tverdo (means “hard” as in “not soft”)

- Gordi (means “pride”)

- Bole (means “pain”. no i dont know why this one gets used either)

- Gore (means “grief/bitter”, see above)

- Slavo (means “glory”)

- Sveto (means “light”)

- Milo (means “dear” or “lovely”)

- Yasno (means “clear”)

- Vero (means “faith”)

- Liubo (Lyubo) (means “love”)

- Kraso (means “beauty”)

- Rado (means “joy”)

- Vole (means “will”)

- Zare (means “dawn” though the wordroot can also refer to dusk when specified. it specifically means the thing when its brighter in the sky than not in the sky. What you see when there’s a city or a bright fire in the distance is called a word produced from the same root)

- Vedi (means “knowledge”; note: I just made this one up, I have never seen an actual name with this. However it fits the scheme and will sound reasonable to a native speaker, and the goal is still to produce NOT common names)

- Zvezdo (means “star” and I made this one up too)

- Ogne (means “flame” and I might have seen this one or I might have made it up idk at this point)

- Snego (means “snow” and i 100% made this one up and its not a thing. Sounds nice though)

- Deye (means “action” and I’m only half certain this one’s a thing. It’ll definitely sound nice though, again)

- Medo (means “honey” and we’re completely off the rails here folks)

- Isto (means “sincerity” and im ALMOST sure this one is a thing. Almost)

- Pravdo (means “truth” and this one is 100% not a thing but it can be if you want to)

EDIT: CONTRIBUTION FROM @reaty  CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT FUCKING STANISLAV

- Dobro (means "good" or "kind")

- Rati (means "army")

- Brati (means "brother")

- Vse (means "all")

- Zlato (means "gold")

- Liuto (Lyuto) (means "fierce")

- Stani (means "war camp")

EDIT: more contribution from @archtroop

- Diko (means “wild”)

- Bogo / Bog (means “god”) (usually would be “Bogo” but “Bogdan” and “Bogdana” are pre-existent)

- Vieche (means “age”, “era” or “century”)

Set of second halves:

- mir or mira (male/female respectively)

- slav or slava (same)

- bor (just male) (means "struggle" or “deep dark forest”)

- dar (just male) (means “gift”)

- mil or mila (again same) (see above for meaning)

- lad or lada (same and means “harmony”)

- liuba (lyuba) (just female; adding this in the male form just makes a regular word that means ‘[thing]-lover’, like “slavolyub” -> guy who likes glory)

- rad or rada (see above)

- slov (means “word”)

- ust (means “mouth”)

EDIT: CONTRIBUTION FROM @reaty THANKS DUDE (gender neutral)

- polk (means "regiment")

- gor (means "mountain")

- vid (means "one who sees")

- voy (means "warrior").

EDIT: more contribution from @archtroop

- mor (means “death”, “plague”)

- dan or dana (means “given”)

Pronunciation guide: all “a” like “u” in “duck”, all “e” like in “best”, all “i” like in “ship” or “sheep” (same sound in Russian). Gore - go-reh, Bole - bo-leh, etc. “ia”/”ya” when its after a vowel or at the start of the word is as in “Bianca” and if its after a consonant is like “nya” but will probably sound like just “a” to yall native English speakers. “iu/yu” after a consonant sounds exactly like the german ü.

Obviously don’t go Moon Moon, Slavoslav and Miromir aren’t valid names. Generally these’ll sound nicer if you avoid repeating consonants. Deyemil > Deyedar, etc. With that in mind, go nuts!

Names in this category that are actually common:

Vladimir, short Vova for some fucking reason, no i dont know either

Vladislav, short Vladik or Slava/Slavik

Vladislava, short Vlada

Sviatoslav, short Slava/Slavik

Viacheslav, short Slava/Slavik, which isn’t one of the roots above... I have never seen “Viache” with any other root and I don’t have any idea what it means. EDIT: apparently it’s from Vieche!

Yaroslav, short Yarik or Slava/Slavik

Stanislav, short Slava/Slavik

Vseslav, short Slava/Slavik

(Fun fact, I have an uncle Slava... and I don’t actually know what his full name is)

(Google up the name after you’ve made it up to find out how pre-existent it is. It’ll sound Russian though)

The accent/stress (v important in Russian) will usually go on the first syllable of the second half (GoresLAv, LiubomEEra), with the exception being personally Vladimir, where it’s VladEEmir. (You can also make a ‘secondary’ accent on the first syllable in sufficiently long words, so “lIUbomEEra” etc)

Notice there’s a cadence to this. By the end of that first list I was just making these up out of Russian word roots that fit the rhythm and the vague theming. Don’t Try This At Home though without an actual Russian speaker to consult: note how the vowels at the end of those are different, and I’ll be honest: I have no idea why those specifically, other than This Sounds Right.

There’s... probably more legit ones that I just haven’t remembered. I just spent an hour at work on this instead of working though so you know having to cut the exercise short and all.

EDIT: A P.S. FROM @reaty WHO CONTINUES TO BE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT PROBABLY

Also I think that it's important for these halves to have at least some sense together. For example, Medo- part, I belive, would be plausible in something like "Medoust" or "Medoslov" — a way to depict a person who is good with words — but "Medopolk" would have absolutely zero sense (at least if he is not an actual bee).

[orphaned-kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning 

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

    Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

    I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

   I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

    Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

   Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

  “Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

   “And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

   Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

   “Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much. 

  Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me. 

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

   “I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian. 

   I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap. 

  Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well. 

   “Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal. 

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy. 

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow. 

   “Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

   I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down. 

   I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me. 

  Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish. 

  I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said. 

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

   Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

   It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,” 

   “Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes. 

   Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now. 

    “Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,” 

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?” 

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

   Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked. 

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled. 

   I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...” 

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

   “Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed. 

“What do you-” 

   “Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

   I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

   Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled. 

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me. 

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

   Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

   “I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed. 

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it. 

    Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out. 

Relief that I could finally be happy.

   Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

   I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more. 

   Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before. 

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

Tag List: @kurochan3 @mrcleanheichou @anonymous-armys-blog @bella-raina @purelyecstacy @lindsayjoy444  @unicornbabylover @xicanacorpse @creatorspalace @thesweetest-peas​ @fangirl125reader​ 

© KiiroKero

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 2: The Middle Of Nowhere]

You are a Russian Grand Duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You hate each other.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution (1917-1923) and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Lots of shouting, if you never learned about the Russian Revolution then here's your mini crash course, references to historical stuff like violence and disease, Kroshka the mule emerges as the only emotionally stable character.

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @deacyblues @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore

I wake up feeling harder, as if sleeping on the ground with all its stones and cool indifference has taught my spine to straighten, to endure. This is a welcome revelation. I will need to be resilient, for my family and for myself. I also wake determined to set things right with my rescuer. I am a perfectly charming person, Mother and Papa have always said so; I’m not painfully shy like Olga, or aloof like Tati, or rather dull like Maria, and I certainly don’t run around putting frogs in people’s shoes like Anastasia. I make for excellent company. Surely Ben will realize this and we will become inseparable travel companions.

Outside in the overcast brisk morning air, Ben is already busy tacking the mule. He glances over and tosses me an apple. It bounces out of my floundering hands and rolls off into the woods. This is not an auspicious start to the day.

“You’ll still have to eat that,” Ben says. “There’s no extra food. I was only able to ask for as much as I could justify needing myself.”

“Right.” I go fetch the apple—rummaging around in leaves and sticks and shrubs—and take a bite, even though it’s bruised and definitely tastes like dirt. I beam at Ben triumphantly. I am tough! I am daring! I am enchanting! I can pull my own weight on this journey!

Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the mule’s thick brown neck and smiles fondly at her. “How are we feeling this morning, Kroshka? Hmm? Who’s a lovely mule? Who’s going to take us all the way to the Trans-Siberian Railroad without even one measly word of complaint? That’s right, you are! Yes you are!” He lands a smacking kiss on the velvety grey fur of her muzzle.

I attempt polite conversation; more than that, I endeavor to learn about my dashing yet evasive rescuer. “So, tell me Ben, have you worked for Sir Buchanan long?”

“Four years,” Ben replies curtly.

“And you are…” I think of his notebook. “A…writer of some sort for him…?”

“I’m his press attaché.”

“Ah.” I recognize the French word for ‘attach,’ but not its meaning in the context of employment with an ambassador. “I can’t say I know what that entails.”

“I handle Sir Buchanan’s relations with the Russian newspapers. Drafting statements and briefing him on local opinions and the like. And since his health has declined, I find myself delivering some of his particularly confidential correspondence.”

“Oh, I see. And he could spare you for this mission? It seems like a burden that would be better carried by a man with military or exploratory experience.”

“My Russian is passable. And I can tolerate rougher conditions than most.” He points to a pile of clothes he’s laid out on a tree stump. “Those are for you. There’s a stream out that way.” He flicks a thumb towards the east. “Get ready however you need to, but be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes.”

I examine the clothing: plain and practical undergarments, a heavy wool sweater, stockings, boots, and something unexpected. I hold them up with clammy hands. “These are…” I swallow noisily. “Trousers.”

“Yes. They’re travel attire. Comfortable and easy to maneuver in if we need to move quickly.”

“I’ve never worn trousers before.”

“I thought you were amenable to a…a…what did you call it? An adventure. A grand adventure.” He says this melodramatically, like there’s some humor in it. Like he’s mocking me.

“I suppose I am,” I mutter, still scrutinizing the trousers.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben reminds me sternly. Then he begins to disassemble the tent.

I trudge off through the woods until I find the stream. I clean myself with ice-cold water, drink it down until my teeth ache, change out of my nightgown and into these strange new clothes—Trousers! Mother would lock me in church for a month!—and gaze up into the cloudy, pastel blue sky that peeks between the fingers of the trees. It is very still here, and cold, and deathly quiet. I try to remember the last time I was truly alone, without Mother or Papa or my siblings or servants or guards within shouting distance. There is none that I can remember; perhaps there is none at all. Out here in the Siberian wilderness I feel unmoored from civilization, diminutive, vulnerable, peculiarly inconsequential. I decide I don’t like being alone. By the time I return to our campsite, Ben is ready and waiting beside the loaded cart. His right hand is resting on a clunky metal monster with ‘Olivetti’ written on it.

“I’m a press attaché,” he says with a mischievous grin. “And you’re a typist.”

“A what?”

“You work for Sir Buchanan’s office as a typist. That’s our story, anyway. You came along to assist me during my audience with the former tsar, and now we’re traveling back to Sir Buchanan’s headquarters in Saint Petersburg. So if anyone happens to ask, that’s what you are to tell them. Oh, and you’re British. Your English sounds clean enough.”

“Alright,” I reply, still gaping at the metal monster like a black box with gnashing fangs. “But what is that?”

Ben’s jaw falls open. “You don’t…?” Then he rubs his forehead, sighing deeply. “Jesus Christ. You’ve never used a typewriter. Of course you haven’t. Great. Fantastic.”

“We always write by hand. My penmanship is flawless, Mother saw to that.” She’s still battling with Anastasia, but that’s a war that may go on as long as the one between the sun and the moon.

“Okay. Okay. This works out, actually. Because I’m not going to entertain you all day. So here is your assignment.” Ben slaps the back of what he tells me is a typewriter, and then waves for me to come closer. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a British passport. Every line is filled out except for the name. He slides the paper into the machine and makes some bewildering adjustments. “So, you insert the paper, set the carriage—that’s this roller-type piece here—and type.” He taps forcefully on the keys until two words appear in the blank reserved for the passport holder’s name: Lana Brinkley.

“That’s me?” I ask doubtfully.

Ben smirks, amused. “That’s you.”

“So you could have given me a better name if you wanted to!”

“But then how would you learn humility?” He removes the fraudulent passport, shakes the paper until it dries, folds it into a neat little square, and slips it back into his coat pocket. “If you’re typing a longer message, the typewriter will ding when you’ve reached the end of each line. Then you use the lever to move the paper down, reset the carriage, and resume typing.”

I nod, but without much confidence. This seems complicated.

“You said you wanted a carriage,” Ben teases.

“Yes, one with magnificent draft horses and velvet seats and preferably no less than two servants. Not…whatever that is.”

“Well, if you’re going to pass for a typist, I’m afraid you must learn to type.” He finds me a stack of blank paper in his collection of bags and trunks, and then climbs into the front of the cart as I get into the back. The trousers, I hate to admit to myself, do make it easier to move around, although I’m not sure I approve of how much they accentuate the shape of my body. The thought of Ben looking at me in them gives me a plunging sort of feeling that is half-mortification and half-thrill…not that he has exhibited any interest at all. “Before we go any farther, do you have anything with you that I don’t know about?”

He means things like the heirlooms I have squirreled away in the large steamer trunk: the jewels sewn into my dress, the photograph. I can sense that he wouldn’t want me to have them, although I’m not sure why. In any case, I have no intention of giving them up. The jewels are the only thing of value that I have to trade if we find ourselves in a desperate situation. The photograph is the only string left that connects me back to my family, my home. “No,” I reply primly.

“Good.” He whistles at the mule and she tugs us through the trees and out onto the dirt road that leads, eventually, to the train station. As we ride joltingly along, the creaky cart wheels bumping over every rock and mound and muddy trough, I practice my typing: very slowly at first, and with only my index fingers. I read aloud as I go, gradually picking up speed.

“There once was a German princess born in the Duchy of Hesse. She was very beautiful but very shy. She had a wonderful talent for playing piano, but would run and hide if anyone asked her to perform in public. One day, when she was attending the wedding of her sister, the princess met a prince from a distant kingdom. They were only children, but they instantly knew they had found true love. They snuck off together and carved their names into a window pane. Over the years, each conspired to marry the other. They refused many suitors and wrote each other hundreds of letters. His family did not approve of the princess’s religion and lack of charisma; her family did not approve of the prince’s distant and troubled nation. But at last it became apparent to all that no earthly forces could keep the couple apart. Ten years after their first meeting, the prince and princess were finally married. And they lived joyously and peacefully in each other’s service for the rest of their days.”

Ben lights one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. The smoke doesn’t bother me; on the contrary, it reminds me of Papa smoking his pipe in his study, in the garden, as he read to us by the fireplace, as he danced with Mother in ballrooms back when she could still dance. It reminds me of home. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever give Shakespeare a run for his money, but I’ll admit I’m marginally entertained.”

I smile to myself, sentimental warmth rising in my face. “It’s Papa and Mother’s story.”

“Huh. I didn’t know your people were allowed to marry for love.”

By ‘your people,’ he seems to mean royalty, and there is some derision in his deep voice. “Well, surely duty must come first. But when love can accompany it, that’s a happy coincidence.”

“And what if duty compels you to marry a man who is, say, cruel? Or dreadfully boring? Or in love with another woman? Or who closely resembles a mole-rat?”

I resume my typing with a new exercise. For each letter of the alphabet, I type a French word that begins with it. “I don’t think that sort of thing happens very often.”

“But if it did.”

I shrug, not especially enjoying this topic of discussion. “Then duty comes first, as I said. But I believe most royal couples are perfectly content. At least nine out of every ten.”

“That many!” Ben marvels sarcastically. “Have you ever considered that your own personal experience, as pleasant as it may be, could be coloring your perception of how the world works?”

I ignore him and continue my typing. Attaché for A, bisou for B, croissant for C, doux for D…

After a moment, Ben says: “You aren’t going to regale me with another fairytale? I’m devastated.”

“I’m busy practicing my French now. Please don’t intrude.”

“You speak French as well as Russian and English?” He sounds impressed; for a split second anyway, just long enough for me to catch it like a firefly in my fist.

“And Italian, and Latin. And I’ve just started on Japanese.”

“But no German? That seems like it would be an easier beast to slay.”

“I’ve always purposefully avoided learning it, even though Mother’s family is German. I never envisioned myself marrying a German. I figured Maria could take that bullet. She doesn’t care, she’d marry anyone who could give her a castle and ten babies and a bulldog or two. I would say she was a milkmaid in a past life, but Mother’s heart would stop dead if she thought I subscribed to reincarnation.”

“Not fond of Germans?” Ben asks. “Well, who can blame you. Half the world isn’t fond of them at the moment.”

“I suppose they weren’t so awful before the Great War. But they’re rather boorish, aren’t they? They always sound like they’re angry. Like someone just stole their horse and they’re screaming at them from the front porch to come back or else.” I smile dreamily as I type. “I’ve always fancied the thought of marrying a prince from a glamorous, romantic kingdom. Maybe Italy or Greece. There has even been talk of me marrying Uncle George’s eldest son David. He’s rather beguiling. Tall and slim. Clear blue eyes like a lake. And he’s going to be the king of the British Empire one day, you know. We could holiday together in beautiful, sunny colonies like the Bahamas.”

“You’re still as important as all that? Important enough to make a marriage of that political significance, I mean.” Ben glances back at me and lifts one thick, dark, inquisitive eyebrow. “Seeing as your family doesn’t have a kingdom anymore.”

This is an insensitive thing for him to say. I frown down at the typewriter. “A wife almost always assumes the kingdom of her husband, so why should she require her own? She needs only sound breeding and a suitable temperament. And besides, we might yet return one day.”

Ben twists all the way around to stare at me, the reigns falling out of his hands. Fortunately, the mule seems to know her own way around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It has been a brutal few years. The Great War, the supply shortages, the bad harvests…the people are frustrated, and understandably so. They lashed out blindly, at those who didn’t deserve it, at us. But the dust will clear. And when it does, I think the Russian people will come to their senses and realize that they want us back. That they need us.”

“Are you insane?” Ben snaps. “Are you utterly brainless? What’s floating around in that skull besides fiction and languages you’ll never use once you’re married off to some prince who only sees you as a broodmare?”

“How dare you! You can’t speak to me like this—!”

“For years, for a bloody decade, Sir Buchanan warned your father about what was coming. He tried to get him to moderate his views, to give the people more voice in government, to stop murdering them when they protested. And when none of that worked and the end was apparent, Sir Buchanan tried to convince your father to abdicate long before he did. Don’t you understand?! None of this needed to happen! Your family could have fled to Britain years ago, before the animosity against your father spread like wildfire across the globe, and Russia could have established their own parliament like Britain’s and negotiated a peace treaty to stay out of the war and none of us would be here now if not for your father’s selfish, pointless obstinacy—!”

“My father is a good man,” I choke out as hot, furious tears burn in my eyes.

“And he was a terrible ruler!” Ben shoots back like artillery. “He ordered protesters to be butchered, he sent untrained boys to die in some other country’s war, he clung to the throne for no one’s benefit but his own—”

“And what about my benefit?” I demand, still weeping, feeling monstrously like a child. “What about my mother’s and my sisters’ and Alexei’s? He must have feared for our futures if we were dethroned and left without any resources, any security, anyplace to call home—”

“He did you no favors,” Ben says harshly. “Half the country—the country that you obviously have not even a rudimentary understanding of—are moderates scrambling to secure the Provisional Government and disentangle themselves from the war while still somehow preserving their dignity and that of the millions of dead soldiers Russia has already laid on the altar. The other half are trying to instigate a wholesale communist revolution. There is no one, no one, who wants the tsar back. And you better pray to God that the communists don’t manage to seize power before King George gets your family out, or your father just might be guillotined on the steps of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.”

I bolt to my feet unsteadily, grip the side of the lurching cart, and leap out onto the dirt road.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ben shouts after me.

I take off sprinting down the road, the wind whipping my face, sobbing as I run beneath the shadows of trees until my lungs are columns of flames and my legs feel wobbly and boneless. I can hear the pounding of the mule’s hooves approaching, the hurtling of wooden wheels, the slapping of leather reins. I am forced to slow to a vigorous march as my body betrays me, wheezing and aching and as ineffectual as a woman is so often assumed to be. The salacious trousers have come in handy once again. Who would have guessed.

Ben pulls up alongside me, reining in the mule to match my pace. “Hey! Get back in the cart!”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way to the railroad station.”

“It’s 200 more kilometers!”

“See you there.”

Now Ben jumps out of the cart. The mule, perplexed but not rattled, comes to a halt and waits in the middle of the road with her long ears angled in opposite directions. Ben rushes in front of me and leans down until we’re at eye-level, breathing heavily. I can smell smoke on him, and something else too: maybe cologne, maybe soap, maybe aftershave, maybe just the scent of a man in his prime. His lips are pink and full and soft-looking, I notice, as if for the first time. His cheeks are irritated and red from the wind; the ruthlessness of the climate here doesn’t agree with him. It is the only way in which I am stronger than he is. His green eyes are wide and blazing. “Get. In. The. Cart.”

“No,” I whisper, tears all over my face.

“You can’t just run off like that,” he pleads, less angry now. “Where are you going to go? There’s nothing out here except trees and…I don’t know…probably bears and wolves and maybe even Siberian tigers. You can’t get ripped apart by wild animals. Don’t you want to make it to London? To argue for your family’s liberation? They could find no fiercer advocate than you, of that I am convinced.”

“How would you possibly protect me from a bear?”

Ben unbuttons his coat and pulls up his white wool sweater to show me a pistol tucked into the holster clipped to his belt. “Just in case,” he says, smirking crookedly, lowering his sweater again. “Now I am keeping no secrets from you, and you are harboring none from me. We’re even.”

I nod, sniffling, thinking of my jewels and photograph hidden in the steamer trunk. My words are so strained I can barely hear them myself, my hands are trembling; hell, I’m trembling all over. The possibility is unimaginable. “Do you really think they’re going to kill Papa?”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t,” he replies gently. “I think the Provisional Government will be able to keep the communists in check for now. I think they will leap at the opportunity to ship the former tsar off to Britain without the potential controversy of a trial and execution. And I also think we should get back in the cart and keep moving now.”

“I’m sorry your boss gave you this assignment and now you have to risk your life for a family that you evidently hate,” I lash out like a cornered animal, hissing and brandishing its glinting claws. “For a grand duchess that you hate. This must be an awful inconvenience for you.”

“It’s rather more complicated than that,” Ben says. “There’s some opportunity in it as well.”

Of course: his leather-bound notebook full of observations, his scrawled recollections to one day build into a famed article about our journey. An article full of what he truly thinks about me. I feel suddenly, violently nauseous. I feel horrified.

What happened to the grand adventure that I imagined? Where did it go?

And all at once, I can’t even remember how I pictured this journey unfolding; I can’t conjure up some rose-colored vision of me and Ben falling into an effortless friendship, flirting lightly and innocently, discovering new corners of the earth together, parting ways in London as lifelong confidants. Now I can only see Papa as he murmurs folktales older than Christianity with candlelight dancing on his smiling face, as he chases me and my sisters around the gardens with outstretched arms and sparkling eyes, as he carries Alexei from one room to the next when my brother’s joints are inflamed and excruciating and useless, as he never unburdens his mind to his wife or children but spends long afternoons chopping wood as the sun sinks into the west and the lines in his pale face grow deeper.

He couldn’t be responsible for bloodshed, for mercilessness. He’s not that kind of man. He’s never been that kind of man.

“We really should keep moving,” Ben prompts.

“Fine,” I fling back as I shove by him. I mop my tears away with the sleeve of my wool sweater, climb into the back of the wooden cart, and sit as far as I can from Ben with my bent knees hugged to my chest. I stare silently off into the forest as the mule drags us towards the Trans-Siberian Railroad, towards Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the Baltic Sea and London, towards the conclusion of this tenuous partnership and the redemption of my family. I am looking forward to soon never having to see Benjamin Hardy again, and yet I’m also not; and this is a difficult paradox to put into words of any language.

We don’t stop until it’s almost dusk. Ben hops down from the cart, leads the mule off the road by her bridle (and gives her an encouraging scratch on the forelock when she hesitates), and begins to set up camp in a small clearing encircled by heaps of frost grass. Dinner is loaves of bread again—even more tough and dry than yesterday—and metallic-tasting water from canteens. Dessert is a hand-rolled cigarette for Ben and a handful of honeyberries I found in the bushes for me. And when Ben grapples with the tent, I come over to help him with it just to prove I can.

Ben builds a fire, and we sit wordlessly on opposite sides of it with the reflections of flames in our eyes. Ben jots down today’s thoughts in his notebook, every so often glancing off into nowhere and tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen, biting his full lower lip absentmindedly as he sifts through the ocean of word in his head to fish out the right one. Meanwhile, I read my copy of Tarzan of the Apes. I stumble across a few English terms I don’t know—quixotic, cartography, constellations, ruminate—but I don’t ask Ben about them.

After a long time, when the moon and stars have emerged bright and ancient in the night sky, Ben closes his notebook and watches me. At first I ignore him. And then, eventually, I can’t anymore.

“What?” I ask irritably, keeping my place in Tarzan of the Apes with my pinky finger, which is nearly numb from the cold.

Ben’s words are calm, restrained, painstakingly chosen. Firelight is fierce and bloody on his face. “I had two infant brothers die of pneumonia, a perfectly preventable illness had they had access to good doctors and proper nutrition and a warm dry home, which they did not. I had a sister die in childbirth because there was no midwife available to attend to her. I have had friends come home from the war with limbs or half their faces missing, a fate which I myself am spared only because of my employment with Sir Buchanan. You have no idea what the world has been through while you were off playing board games and reading novels in greenhouses and lounging on lakeshores with your idyllic little family. You have no idea what life is like for the rest of us. And perhaps that’s not your fault, and it is unjust of me to resent you for it, and I must learn to temper this wrath I’ve been carrying around in my chest since childhood. But it’s still true.”

He stands, clutching his notebook with hands that are red from the savage Siberian wind, and vanishes into the tent.

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[brother-hermes]

By masculine and feminine arent you talking about an abstraction? What you're not talking about is a 'gender'duality. In a manner of speaking by masculine and feminine are you talking about the psychic energies we call traits, that is grouped into a duality. If so would the problem consist of this duality in conflict that sustained a psychological system that is built of layers of duality beliefs and biases. This system not only wastes life energy but it keeps a person focused on things that may feel important but are distracting from what is real and essential?

Beautiful human, thank you!!!

Masculine and feminine aren’t accurate terms for the depth of what we’re talking about here. We use them as means of describing the points on poles vibrating in everything.

Basic Hebrew I find important here- Tohu wa’Bohu (form and void in basic English terms) It’s unlimited potential collapsed into what we’d call reality. (Observer effect right)

We take something away from the depth by putting it in terms of gender. Sprinkle in our modern concept of gender and this mass understanding that life is non-binary and we begin to see the depth of it all. No mystic had ever said we are binary because duality is the lie. The either/or mentality is the flaw. Hot and cold are just varying degrees of the same concept. The most rudimentary occult texts like The Kybalion teach this but the concept goes a lot further back than the early 1900’s.

The social construct lies in our separation of the poles via language. Do dark and light describe the nature of the sky? Of course not! They’re terms we use to intellectualize our experience of passing phases. We divide by religious ideologies but the fact of the matter remains…

“What we know is a drop. What we don’t know is an ocean.”

(Quoting obscure German sci-fi shows may be my only actual explanation because we don’t know beyond our experience!)

Here’s hoping open dialogue helps people understand the depth in belief.