#i hope she takes plentiful rest and enjoyments

[fanfic-enthusiast]

Just Try Your Best (GGG Fic)

“NO I DON'T WANNA!!” 

The shriek was so loud it rustled Cobigail out a nap in her leaves with a jolt. “LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” 

Before Cobigail could take a look herself a little girl came bolting into the closet where her domain resided. The girl was red in the face with her brows scrunched up and immediately sat down where she was with her arms crossed, grumbling to herself, completely oblivious to where she ran off to it seemed. A prime target for a prank. Quietly, carefully, Cobigail leaned over her and threw out her hands while making her signature scary face. 

“BOO!!!” The little girl screamed and covered her eyes with her hands. 

“Ahaha! Gotcha good! Well hello little thing. Hope I didn’t spook you too much?”

After realizing she was ok she carefully parted her fingers to look upon the cheeky prankster of a harvest god. 

“Noooooo.”

“Heh, well aren’t you a brave one! Not many your age can say they barely jumped at a prank from me. What’s your name kiddo?” “Parri…” “Well lovely to meet you Parri. Say what brings you to my humble abode.”

“I just wanted to get away from my teacher.” the little girl, Parri, crossed her arms again and furrowed her brow.

“Oh? Why is that? I thought she was nice.” 

“It’s cause she wants me to sing a stupid song with the rest of my class. And I don’t wanna.” 

She stomped her foot and threw her arms in the air in a little tantrum. Cobigail cocked her head a little and put her hands where her hips would be… if she had them.

“Now wait a minute little lady. A stupid song? I know plenty of songs, but I can’t really think of a stupid one.” 

Parri groaned and frowned harder, “You wouldn’t get it. I hate singing, I hate being here, and my teacher is mean to try and make me sing in some concert I don’t even want to be a part of.” 

A flash of memory comes through of similar kids not wanting to take part in shows or community gatherings. A sudden change in their excitement to be on stage, glee to anger. Rarely was it a genuine loss of enjoyment for music but rather something a little more, some problem outside the classroom in their lives. The part of Cobigail that remembers teaching kids like this knew that behavior all too well. 

She shrank down as much as she could and leaned over, to try and be closer to the little girl’s level. 

“Hey now, I’m sure you don’t mean all of that.”

“Yeah well I do.” 

“What specifically don’t you like about singing with your class?” 

“Um… the… crowd, and the song is bad. Like… slow.” she fumbled around for the right words but eventually fell quiet, caught red handed in her fib.

“Parri, I promise you can tell me what’s bothering you. I won’t tell a soul. The concert’s here are for the community and are a way to bring everyone together, doesn’t that sound fun?” “...” Parri looked away from Cobigail down at her feet. “My momma can’t come to the concert tomorrow… and I don't know anyone else here. I’m gonna be all alone. I d-dont wanna perform alone.” 

Cobigail’s gaze softened and she gently put a large finger on the child’s shoulder. “And you’re afraid?” 

Parri nodded, her big eyes welled with tears threatening to break and pour over her little cheeks. Without warning she pulls herself around and holds onto Cobigail’s hand, thankfully missing the thorns on her arm and starts to cry. “W-w-we j-just m-m-moved. And I-I d-dont have f-f-friends here.” 

How long had it been since someone cried to her like this or looked to her for comfort? 

“Shhh… There there. It's alright. Let it out.” Cobigail soothed while carefully stroking her hair with another hand, she was so small, last time she did something like this she was sure the child was bigger in her grasp. Probably squeezing her waist while she stroked their hair and tried to calm them down, being a supportive presence in their lives. 

What did she do back then?

A memory of holding a crying child to her came forth, they had lost a pet recently and the grief was still fresh on their mind. She held them close apologizing to them and while they cried in her arms she started humming, something slow. She didn’t remember the name. 

She came back to the present as Parri hugged her finger tighter and buried her face into it. While Cobigail held her and gently hummed what bits of the song she could recall and made up the rest. Parri cried for a while, until the sobs trailed off to small snotty sniffles. 

“Do you feel a little better?” Cobigail asked.

She felt the little girl nod against her finger. 

“I know you said you're scared of performing alone. But you are braver than you think Parri. And you won’t be alone, this will be a good chance to get to know other people in the community… other kids like you.” 

“W-what if I mess up the song and they make fun of me?”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to make a mistake, Parri.” Cobigail laughed a little, “Oh boy. One time I missed a whole line of a song when I was little you know. Some time around your age I think.”

“What happened?” “Well I sure was embarrassed but no one laughed or made fun of it. The show went on and people congratulated me on the performance.”

“Even when you messed up?”

“Yes, cause I kept singing and finished the show. They were proud of me for doing my best.” Cobigail carefully brushed a bit of hair out of Parri’s face with a smile. “And I think even if you mess up a little, people will be proud of you too, just for trying.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, I bet you will even make some friends too. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

“Yeah…” Parri nodded a little. “I still dont wanna go alone though… I wish my mom could come but she works...”

After a moment of thinking Parri looked up at her, still holding onto her finger. “Can you come? Please.” 

Cobigail thought for a moment, “... Parri, I will see your show. You may not see me, but I will be cheering you on, don't worry.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Pinky promise.” 

“Hehe kid, my pinky is bigger than your whole body!”

“Oh. Well then, cross your heart?”

“Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a corn cob in my eye. Bleh!” 

She made a silly face while miming poking herself in the eye and Parri giggled from where she sat in Cobigail’s hand. 

“See, look at you smilin’ away! Make sure you wear one for the show ok. I’ll be watching!” 

“Ok ok! I will.”

“Good, I know you're goin’ to do great. Now you should probably go back to class, the day is nearly over and I’m sure your teacher is worried.” 

She carefully placed Parri back on the soft cloud floor so she could leave.

“Ok, miss. Thank you for making me feel better.” 

“Of course, always happy to help whenever you need. Oh, one last thing.” 

“Yeah?”

“BOO!” 

“AH!!! Hehehe!!!!! Boo!” “Ha!! Great job!” and with that Parri was sent off back to her classroom through the closet door. 

True to her word, it was the end of the class day and the teacher was very worried about how long Parri spent in the closet with their god. (Only a little worried about whether or not the girl was eaten though, and more so worried about what to tell her mother if she was.)

When the next day rolled around and towards the evening when the shadows were long. The kids from the small choir school in Milldread gathered in the center of town to sing a few songs, to show the community what they learned so far in the year. 

As the performance went on from where Parri stood amongst her classmates scanning the crowd she could see the figure of Cobigail above her altar watched from a distance, like another member of the audience. 

And when the songs were sung and the people clapped, a wind rustled the arms of the figure making it look as if she was doing the same. Congratulating this little girl for doing her very best.

[ciel-phantomhives-world]

It's been 11 days already since the last Kuro chapter came out and about 7 days since the last episode of S4 aired and I'm already feeling empty :(. I miss kuro sooooo much. It's the only thing that I look forward to, every month in my boring, dull, pathetic & lonely life. I do hope that Yana is having a great leisure time though, in the meanwhile 🩵...

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[minarisplaything]

What You're Missing (Part 1) ft. Huh Yunjin

Prompt:  you are dating kazuha, who is lovely, but has been putting off having sex until marriage. enter her step-sister yunjin who offers you a taste of what you've been missing word count: 1.6k pairing: huh yunjin x male reader, nakamura kazuha x male reader warnings: cheating

"oh fuck zuha..."

  the sound of your moaned praise mixed with the vulgar sound that was already filling the room. the sound in question was that of your girlfriend, kazuha nakamura, bobbing her head up and down as she deep-throated your cock.

  your hand rested on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her dark locks. however, you continued to let her work at her own pace as opposed to taking control and fucking her throat. this was all still relatively new to her and for better or worse you were willing to go at her speed as opposed to yours.

  which, while the noble and right thing to do, was always a bit excruciating. there was an enjoyment in being the first to teach her certain things things; like telling her to pay attention to the underside of your cock or reminding her to play with your balls. it was sweet and there was value in going through these things together as a couple. you acknowledged that.

but well...

there were also times when you just wanted to get a nut off and the slow, leisure pace that kazuha worked at just wasn't cutting it. her head would bob slowly, almost tortorously on your cock. it felt good but there were times like tonight when you just wanted nothing more to be utterly spent. to have her eyes look up at you as she sucked your soul from your body. the imagery alone was enough to cause your cock to twitch in her mouth. the day she let you cum in her mouth and she swallowed it was the day you could finally die a happy man but the two of you hadn't even gotten to that point yet. for now it was only fantasy.

it was a process. despite your internal impatience you told yourself that. she'd be ready when she was ready and once she was you were sure it'd be a game changer. for now you just had to lay back and not think about it too much.

an hour later, you found yourself feeling restless. kazuha had fallen asleep peacefully next to you but your body refused to sleep. you had finished but it hadn't exactly been the euphoric release you were hoping for. as a result, you felt a desperate urge to go to the bathroom and rub one out just so you could get a goodnight's sleep. the only problem was that kazuha lived with her step-sister. honestly, you had only met her a handful of times and the idea of her hearing you or catching you defiling their bathroom was mortifiying.

so, in the end, you settled for making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, hoping the late night trip would clear the fog of horniess that still clouded your mind. if things continued like this it might be better off if you didn't spend the night. or, at least you would be able to go to sleep less frustrated.

"can't sleep?"

"jesus!"

a sudden voice cutting through the quiet of the apartment caused you to jump, nearly dropping the glass of water in your hand. you turned around, spotting the familar face of your girlfriend's step-sister in the dimly lit kitchen. "christ, yunjin. could you not sneak up on me like that?"

she grinned and gave a slight shrug, "it's not my fault you were so lost in thought that you didn't hear me coming. i wish i could say the same."

"what do you mean by that?" you questioned.

"'oh zuha! that's it! i'm almost there'" yunjin immitated in a moaning voice, her hand touching her neck.

it was during her little performance that you gave yunjin a closer once over. she was clothed only in a pair of pajama shorts that showed off plenty of her thighs and a white tank top that left no illusion of there being any support beneath them. by the time you looked up again the smirk and knowing look in her eye told you that she had caught you staring.

"see something you like?"

"n-no!" you quickly stuttered. "and i didn't sound like that!"

"you're right. you're acting was much worse," yunjin teased.

"i...i wasn't acting," you protested.

at least not fully. but you didn't have to admit that now. though whether you admitted it or not didn't seem to matter as yunjin crossed her arms over her chest, her breast pushing out slightly. she rolled her eyes before looking back at you.

"i know what it sounds like when a man comes. when a man really orgasms. what i heard tonight was not it," there was a definite tone in her voice, "but it's cute of you to do that for zuha."

that last part almost sounded mocking. feeling more defensive than ever your brows knitted together, placing down your cup of water. "you don't know what you're talking about."

"yes. i do. and you know i do."

yunjin took a step towards you. everything from her words to her demeanor was very matter of fact. but there was something else in there too. a lustful look that gave you a sense of trepedation. a look that said she just might swallow you whole if you let her. and a quiet part of your brain argued that you just might. fuck. stop thinking about it. yet despite your best thoughts, you could feel a stirring beneath your boxers. yunjin only grinned, moving closer as you were trapped between her body and the kitchen counter.

"i've been waiting for her to come ask me for advice but she hasn't yet. that must mean she thinks that she's doing a good job. or you've been telling her she has. either way it, clearly, isn't the case or this wouldn't be so hard would it?"

the this she was referring to was your hard cock which she now had in her hand, her fingers having snaked past the waistband of your boxers with ease. slowly she began to stroke your length, all while not breaking eye contact for a second. against your better judgement your cock twitched in her grasp. no matter how much the logical part of your brain yelled for you to pull up your boxers and run; the basic instinct in you couldn't help but note how good it felt.

"yunjin..."

"how long has it been since you've properly fucked something, huh?" she said, her tone getting more confident as she pumped your cock faster. "don't try to deny it, i know she's saving herself for marriage."

"t-there's nothing wrong with that," you managed to croak out in a low voice.

"of course there's not," yunjin laughed. "but where does that leave you?"

yunjin leaned closer, her voice coming out in a low whisper as her breath brushed against your ear, "when was the last time you felt a pussy squeezing around your cock?"

"oh, fuck."

your hips bucked, thrusting your cock into her grasp as she nibbled on your earlobe. it seemed like a simple enough gesture but the combination of yunjin pumping your cock; her body pressed flush against yours. and her mouth sucking on your earlobe turned out to be a heavenly combination. you tried to absolve yourself of responsibility, saying your body was just reacting this way because of how backed up you were. in reality, though, there was no denying that yunjin knew exactly what she was doing and it made a huge difference in the result.

"are you going to cum already?" yunjin taunted, your shaft throbbing in anticipation, "it took you twice as long as this to cum with zuha and she was using her mouth. tsk. you really need to send her to me for tips. i'll make sure she lets you cum in her mouth."

that particular comment sent your mind on a spiral. you imagined looking down and seeing zuha's lips wrapped around your cock as she vigorously bobbed her head back and forth on your cock. kneeling next to her was yunjin, holding kazuha's hair back and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. a mixture of instructions and vulgarities no doubt. as the image in your mind switched to yunjin sucking on your scrotum while zuha edged you towards orgasm, your grip tightened on the kitchen counter. your cock began to twitch, feeling completely different from what had happened earlier that night. when it finally hit your vision went white, a release like you hadn't had in some time washing over you.

"fuck!!"

your exclamation was louder than you intended but in that moment you didn't care. all you knew was pleasure and for a moment, your mind was blank.

as you opened your eyes and looked down you saw not the fantasy from your mind, but merely yunjin on her knees and wiping at the corner of her mouth. you had gotten someone to swallow your cum this night after all. just not nearly in the way you had imagined.

"holy shit..." you muttered.

"you came like a broken faucet" she commented, an amused tone in her voice. "my sister had you that backed up? that doesn't seem healthy."

you were speechless, not even able to muster a defense of your girlfriend. you were pretty sure if you let go of the counter your knees would give out at that point. yunjin, unphased, rose to her feet and patted you on the cheek softly.

"when you're ready to remember what pussy feels like, you know where to find me."

with that offer she turned on her heel and made her way out of the kitchen, presumably to bed. leaving you alone to ponder what the hell had just happened.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Someone You Can Build a Nest In was, in fact, pretty good, but it went in a different direction than I was hoping for and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

The story follows Shesheshen, a solitary shapeshifting monster who hunts the travelers and merchants that pass through her territory, along with the occasional monster hunters who come to slay her. She is rather lonely, and reminisces fondly and lovingly about her mother, who was slain when she was young, and her father, whose body she grew inside and who she ate her way out of when she was ready to be born. On her hunts, she keeps an eye out for someone who might make for a similarly loving parent to plant her own eggs in. After a close encounter with some hunters while in a roughly human shape, Shesheshen is nurses back to health by a kind woman who has mistaken her for human, and promptly falls head over heels. Before she can get around to explaining her true nature and enquire about how her newly beloved would feel about being a parent, they are both drawn into a new and concerted effort to hunt down the local monster - Sheshen herself. Hijinks, of course, ensue.

The thing that immediately captured me when I started reading was how well the narration captured Shesheshen's fundamental inhumanity while still making her layered, complex, and intelligent. Her visceral emotional reactions are shaped by her biological nature as a predator, and these emotions lead to distinctly inhuman values and morals - Shesheshen places no intrinsic value on human lives and feels no compunctions whatsoever about eating sentient people. Her love and lust are consumptive in nature, and she romanticizes this. The fact that she cannot have her cake and eat it too is something she has difficulty dealing with. But she's also capable of a great deal of sympathy and empathy for specific humans, and the love she has for the father she ate causes her to care a great deal about consent - she doesn't want to consume out of love someone who doesn't want to be consumed.

In addition to her psychology, Shesheshen's physiology is also excellently inhuman and conveyed in great visceral detail, and the way her body functions is very interesting. My favorite parts of the book are the introduction and the denouement, because these are the areas where her psychology and physiology receive the most undivided attention. They aren't ignored throughout the rest of the book by any means, but they take a backseat to the plot, which is why I feel a bit conflicted about the book as a whole. I was really enjoying the in-depth character study of the introduction, and would've really liked to have the whole book be in that vein.

The plot, to be clear is not bad - it's honestly quite good, and it delves heavily into themes of generational and familial trauma, self-sacrifice, the normalization and romanticization of profound harm, and the difficulty of growth and self-actualization, all while being fairly entertaining and well-executed as a story. I think its themes were a bit heavy-handed in places, and I think some of its exploration was hobbled and flattened by the book's queernorm setting, but I won't relitigate that old argument here. It was suitably gripping and solidly entertaining.

I think the central relationship was solid and compelling, though again, I would've liked it more if the whole book had been focused on a deep exploration of their characters and dynamics. There's a lot of rich ground to the basic premise of "monster falls in love with human, wants to express that love in a way that is actively dangerous/horrifying to the human, doesn't know how to talk about it", and the story layers additional complexities onto that dynamic that are very compelling, but for as much of that interesting ground that the book explored, it left plenty more untouched. One detail that I did find both novel and enjoyable is that both the love interest Homily and Shesheshen herself are all but explicitly sex-averse asexuals by human standards, which is something I have not encountered in a lot of media. The exploration of that experience is not particularly deep because, again, queernorm, but it is present and it was compelling.

This was a really unique and compelling read, though, and I expect it to be one that stays with me. Given my own interest in body horror and inhumanity (shameless plug for Memoirs of a Flesh Eater in the notes), I wouldn't be surprised to see some influences from this book in my own writing going forward.

On the whole, I definitely enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it, but not without a few warnings. Body horror is a constant element in this book; Shesheshen's shapeshifting is purposely off-putting, and she eats people. This is described in substantial detail. Also, there is a lot of parental and familial abuse depicted, much more than you would expect from the basic premise, so go in prepared. On the other hand, though, if you're looking for a true gothic horror tragic toxic doomed romance or a heavy character study that really plumbs the depths of an inhuman psyche, you will probably be frustrated by how close it comes to being that without actually being that.

[comicalfont]

My Trans Undertale Fanfics on AO3

In light of recent events in the fandom, I thought I would offer some transgender positivity and representation by sharing my Undertale fics I've made about transgender themes, both for characters in the game and reader perspectives. All trans people and identities deserve to be respected for who they are, no exceptions. The characters of Undertale are understanding listeners that would support trans people in their own lovely ways, and there's plenty of trans themes in the game as well that many other content creators have explored.

Gender-Switching Scapulas: Sans accidentally eats a sandwich injected with a substance Alphys has made to give trans people temporarily relief as their true selves while they work through their transitions. It gives Sans the body of a female skeleton for the rest of the day, and she soon finds it to be rather comfortable and freeing. https://archiveofourown.org/works/44578051

Out of a Bind - Papyrus, who's come to realize after emerging to the surface that they're non-binary, is leading a rally for their city's government to vote yes to allowing non-binary gender markers on IDs. You're their special someone, and you help them make the rally possible while soaking up all of their Papyrus-ness in the process. https://archiveofourown.org/works/32164585

Bone-ary Breaker - Non-binary AMAB reader perspective where you open up to Sans, your boyfriend, about your gender identity and not wanting to hurt what you have with him, only to be showered with support; both from him, and from a certain fish lady over the phone. https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791645

Hormones and a Hot Dog - Trans female reader perspective with you celebrating three months on hormones by going to a Chicago-style diner with Sans to satisfy those salt cravings. https://archiveofourown.org/works/30165534

Bathing in Freedom - Trans female reader perspective where you've made enough progress with hormones to try a bathing suit that you feel at home in; once you and Sans have purchased it, you take a trip to a public pool for a sans-ational time of being yourself out and about. https://archiveofourown.org/works/32311720

If any of these fics sound like enjoyable reads to you, I hope you have a great time with them! The Undertale fandom should be a place for all people and identities to have their space and representation in, just as every other fandom should. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[the-solar-system52]

Earthspark S3 synopsis spoilers!!

Rotten Tomatoes leaked the titles and synopsizes for episodes 2-7 of Season 3 and I have opinions.

First of all, I JINXED IT??? Yesterday I was literally writing a post complaining about how little info we got about S3 compared to the other seasons before their release. I was nearly done it but got lazy and I saved it as a draft to finish later, cue 1 AM at night when I decide to check again Rotten Tomatoes for any updates, AND THERE WERE NEW EPISODES?? I just manifested them into existence with the power of hyperfixation I guess. So, you're welcome guys. (Although it is pretty cool that I discovered it myself because that usually doesn't happen to me since I don't use Reddit or Discord, it also signifies that the mainstream Transformers fandom doesn't really seem to care about Earthspark that much anymore considering the fact they aren't interested on reporting on new leaks. And that sucks, but I can't exactly blame them.)

But also you're not welcome because wtf are these synopsizes. I'm trying my best to be positive and stuff, and I know we should probably wait for the episodes to come out before we judge too hard, but these descriptions are definitely raising some red flags. There only seems to be 7 episodes which is very disappointing and doesn't seem like enough time to wrap up all the plot points from S2, plus the new S3 plot points they are introducing. Not to mention that there seems to be one or two filler episodes, which doesn't seem like a lot for most shows but it matters when you have such limited time. Filler can be good when it is well-written, helps develop the characters, and doesn't take time away from the rest of the plot. S1 filler was enjoyable because it had these qualities, but S2 filler however....... I don't think so. Not only is the writing just plain bad, but the writers almost seem adverse to developing their characters because they don't want to break their 'good guys good/bad guys bad' formula and need everything to reset to the status quo by the end of the episode, rendering the filler basically pointless. (See, the end of Togetherness) So not only is the filler getting in the way of the plot, but I'm not entirely sure it'll even be enjoyable.

I don't know if we are going to be getting more episodes after this. Some say we are going to get more batches, some say we are going to get longer specials instead, and some say Earthspark is cancelled and won't be getting any continuation. I think we probably will get some sort of finale, but either way, now is not the time for the writers to start messing around. There are plenty plot points from S2 that need to be wrapped up (The Decepticons, Terrantronus, The Chaos Terrans, The Quintessions) and yet they are already adding some more plot points for S3. The descriptions don't really mention any of the S2 plot points, and obviously we should wait till the episodes actually release to see if they do, but I'm still a bit skeptical. But these S3 plot points do seem interesting so lets talk about them.

IZZY'S EVIL?? Or a shapeshifter Quintession thing?? I'm gonna be real I did not see that coming and I don't really know how to feel. It's more interesting than her just being a designated crush character but I'm still just not really invested enough in her and Robby's relationship to care. I wonder if she's actually a shapeshifting Quintession or just a human working for the Quintession's? (I'm sorta hoping for the first thing tbh since we don't need more human screentime) I also wonder if she'll just be pure evil or if she'll be redeemed by the power of straight people or something. Imagine if some random girl gets redeemed but not any of the Decepticons, that'd be really funny.

There's this new plot point called 'The Hate Plague' which seems to be some sort of disease that drives bots into a rage. It pops up after EP4, right after The Autobot Ship (probably containing Prowl) crash lands. My guess is that the disease stems from Prowl's ship, and also probably has something to do with the Quintession's big plan. That either means the ship had a Quintession stowaway or some other substance that the Quintession's planted there that somehow caused the disease. There is also the possibility that it has something to do with The Chaos Energy from the Chaos Terrans since they are associated with rage?? But we'll have to see. I think the plot will follow The Autobots slowly being taken over by the disease, making them dangerous to the Maltos, leaving them all by themself to find someway to reverse it's affects and bring them back while also fighting the enemy that wants to take Robby and Mo's power for their own- wait a sec HAVEN'T WE DONE THIS BEFORE?? Isn't just the GHOST mind control all over again??? Sure, the Hate Plague makes them more enraged whilst the Mind Control made them emotionless, but it will still lead to them fighting against the Maltos right? It just feels way too similar. And the lines "she (Twitch) realizes she may be the only one who can help" and "Prowl recruits Thrash and Robby to investigate the source of the mysterious Hate Plague" sort of implies The Terran's can't be infected? Which seems worse since it means the Terrans won't benefit by whatever potential character development the Hate Plague could bring. But I don't want to jump to conclusions. I think it would be more interesting if the 'Hate Plague' didn't just make the bots mindless enraged savages, but instead actually make them more hateful. The plague clouds their view and makes them see the negative in everything, but they still retain their cognitive abilities, specifically the ability to talk. This could lead to interesting character dynamics being challenged since everyone would be arguing with each other and their previously-hidden opinions would come to light. This would still install conflict in the Autobot base but it wouldn't make them just mindless enemies and could actually lead to really interesting dialogue and situations. Think of The Spell of Shattered Sight from Once Upon a Time. It would put the Autobots out of commission and they wouldn't be able to help the Terrans but it wouldn't lead to them mindlessly attacking them without a reason, so it wouldn't be too similar to the GHOST mind control. But I'm not sure if they'll go for this angle since the S2 writers don't seem to be a fan of 'complicated characters' and exposing some of the flaws of the Autobots via The Hate Plague would destroy their 'good guys good/bad guys bad' narrative. It's easier to just turn The Autobots into mindless monsters to fight the Terrans for awhile. It'll also probably lead to some "i know your still in there 🥺" fights, which may be good character development if they are written well but they will probably end up being really corny. Like I said, we've done this all before.

No mention of The Chaos Terrans guys. I'm not doing well. We don't have the synposis for EP1 which would be the one they are most likely to be mentioned in, but the fact that they are not even alluded to in the other descriptions has me worried. I don't care if they stay pure evil, I also don't care if they speedrun a poorly written redemption arc, I JUST WANT THEM TO BE ALIVE 😭😭 (istfg if they try to redeem Starscream after what he did......)

The episode I'm most excited for is probably EP4. The plot of going into the Decepticon base and "friendships being tested" might mean we'll be getting some character development between The Autobots and/or The Decepticons? I have a soft spot for snow day episodes, so I'll probably enjoy EP 5 as well. The description of EP6 sort of made it seem like they would go on a full on investigation, so I think it would be funny if it was styled like a Noir Dectective film lmao (idk Prowl's character that well, is that something he would do?)

Either way, I will stay cautiously optimistic and be on the lookout for anymore leaks!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Heck yeah youre back!

I hope you had rested plenty and ate some yummy food!

I would very much like a tiny but mighty reader with her tall and skinny boy jack the ripper!

She is constantly picking him up and carrying him around calling him her little bunny because of his hair.

One time during a practice fight his pant leg was torn and GASP! LITTERS OF HICKEYS ARE COVERING HIS MEATY THIGH!(Have you seen them? Perfection~)

Reader is the embodiment of " this is my baby and aint no body better touch him"

-Jack adored you, you were beautiful- stunning evening, had a heart of gold, always willing to help out others, and you smothered him with so much love that he was ready and willing to drown in your love.

-While hesitant at first, seeing your genuine concern and affections for him, Jack fell pretty fast for you, as he had never had someone treat him so gently and in return, he treated you like the goddess you were, showering his own praise down upon you.

-You wouldn’t allow him to talk badly about himself, telling you how he is not worthy of being by your side and that you deserved someone better. He learned the hard way that day that you are way stronger than you look, as you picked him up, holding him over your head and took him inside to your couch and proceeded to praise and smother him with kisses for the next several hours.

-He rarely does it now, knowing that it upsets you, but you know that he only does it now because you give him extra attention, which you think is cute because he is rather shy about asking for affection outright.

-To anyone else, the two of you looked like the perfect couple, despite your strength, he treated you as if you were made of glass, carrying your bags for you, not letting you hold a single thing other than his hand. His was always such a gentleman to you, pecking the back of your hand in greeting and parting, gifting you flowers, and reading you poetry.

-The two of you kept your personal lives more private, because behind closed doors you were both unhinged and partaking upon your most carnal desires on the regular. It was especially fun to rile Jack up while you were out and about with him, getting him flustered, because his ‘punishments’, if you could call them that, were always very enjoyable.

-This little secret was revealed when Jack was selected to fight in Ragnarok this year again, and he was delighted to see that he would be fighting against Hercules, his very good friend, once again, and the two were quick to poke fun at each other, like Hercules telling Jack not to hold back and Jack teasing back that he might even let Hercules win this time.

-The match was very entertaining, as Jack always seemed to have something up his sleeve, and Hercules never failed to surprise everyone himself with his own new combat skills.

-The fight ended in Hercules’ win but all attention was on Jack instead, who had his pants ripped off due to not dodging Hercules’ weapon in time, revealing Jack’s very nice muscular legs, but that’s not what everyone was staring at, everyone was looking at the deep purple hickies covering his thighs.

-Jack’s bashfulness as he used his hat to try to hide them away was actually quite endearing as his face was bright red, especially when Hercules snickered at him, teasing him as they walked backstage while many of the spectators were whistling and cheering for Jack, making him even more embarrassed.

-You met your lover backstage with a spare pair of pants, and Hercules teased you, nudging you with his elbow gently, “You sure did mark him up for me, Y/N! Kinda hard for me to fight someone who’s already so bruised up.”

-You pouted lightly at his teasing before picking up Jack, holding him princess style, “Jack is my baby- and I gotta make sure that nobody will ever be able to take my baby from me!!” Jack hid his face behind his hat as his ears were burning red, “Y/N- please!”

-Hercules roared with laughter as you headed off, carrying Jack to the infirmary, holding him carefully to not aggravate any of his wounds.

-Once you sat him down in the infirmary you pulled his hands and hat away from his face, smiling up at him and you gently cupped his cheeks, kissing him softly, “My handsome baby~”

-He pouted at you, giving you a small glare which made you grin, “You won’t be able to leave the house for a week after I get done marking you up!” you squeaked cutely as he pecked your cheek softly, tickling you with his mustache before wrapping his arms around you, hugging you close for a moment before the nurses walked in to treat him and you stepped back, giving him a small smile.

[slxsherwriter]

Home for the Holidays

Fandom: MacGyver

Pairing: Tim Wexler/reader, Tim Wexler & reader

Word count: 6,471

Warnings: Difficult family relationships, two separate endings, faking dating trope

Author's note: Does this really fit here? No. But I say it does because it's an Englund character. Super niche, but that's never stopped me before. I hope everyone who decides to read enjoys it. Special thanks to the wonderful @tinalbion for all the help with this one, from reading it to helping me figure out the ending(s). This ended up taking on a life of its own and was far longer than intended. Cruddy gif below is my own.

Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta

The holidays were a dreaded time of year. What should have been an enjoyable time with family was an utter nightmare for you. You loved your family, you really did. But the judgment and the nitpicking drove you up a wall. Without fail, there was always a bombardment of questions about your love life and when you were going to settle down. Sure, most of the time it came from a place of good intention but the constant push on the subject made you want to pull your hair out and it was enough to make you feel nauseous at just the mention of the holidays. As always, this year, you planned on grinning and bearing it to the best of your ability.

“You don't get it, Tim,” you complained to your long-time friend. “It's never ending for the entire length of the holidays. From every. Single. Member of my family. You would think a simple response back would be enough. But no. They aren't ever satisfied with the reply that I haven't found the right person yet. No, you would think that is the end of the world.” Tim gave a sympathetic smile, pushing around the rest of his lunch. It wasn't like you didn't know that he was less than fond of the holiday season as well. You closed your eyes and let out a small huff, an apology followed closely after.

“It's okay.” Always easy going and understanding. That was Tim. He had been that way right off the bat during your first meeting in college. “I know it's rough for you, and I know you know it's rough for me. Would rather have you get it out here so you can concentrate at work.”

“Sometimes, I think it would be nice if we could just skip over that time of the year entirely. Not like there aren't plenty of others who hated it just as much.” He chuckled softly.

“Yeah, well, we know that's never going to happen. So, we just have to suck it up and deal with the most wonderful time of year, every year, for the rest of our lives.” You flicked one of the remaining beans from your salad in his direction, as the comment finally brought a smile to your face.

“One of these years, we should say fuck it and just stay home. Me and you. Screw expectations and the rest of the world.” Something that neither of you would ever do, but occasionally, it was nice to dream about it.

“I would be afraid of your mother hunting us down.” He had a valid point. It went without a doubt that your mother would hunt the both of you down and ream you out into the next year. The woman could be outright terrifying when she wanted to be. Nothing would set her off more than missing the holidays. Especially if it would be for unjust reasons in her eyes.

“You're right. As always,” you teased after a second. “Guess that plan is outta the window. We’ll have to come up with something else.” That final thought closed out your lunch as work demanded that you return to your duties. The discussion was tabled for now.

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

The thought came around a whole hell of a lot sooner than you had hoped. After a phone call with your mother, you felt desperate.

It wasn't what you wanted to do, but with little choice, it seemed like the best idea that you could have created. It all hinged on what Tim thought, though, and that wasn't anything you felt you could anticipate. All you could really do was hope that he felt like it was a decent enough idea that would get both of your families off of your backs.

“So,” you started casually, not able to bring yourself to look at him just yet. Things could be made a little awkward. Sure, you had known each other for years. Tim was your best friend and life without him? Well, it was unthinkable.

“Oh, boy. That's never a good start to any conversation.”

“No, no. It's nothing bad or nothing like that.” Your eyes shot up to him in a near panic. Your anxiety about the conversation to come made you overreact just slightly. Tim's smile fell just a bit.

“Hey, it's okay. Take a breath.” Right. The function necessary for living. You let out a sigh and rubbed your face.

“I'm sorry. I had a call with my mother last night and spent the whole night worrying about heading home next week.”

“That bad already? She wasted no time this year, huh?”

“God, no.” You slouched a bit and braced your head in your hands, elbows resting against the counter. “Painful. It was absolutely painful, Tim. I would have rather had teeth pulled.” There was a moment of quiet. Really, what was there to say to that anyway? You managed to pull your head out of your hands and refocus back on Tim.

“Kept me up most of the night, honestly. Spent it trying to think of anything that could get me out of it but came up with nothing. So, I realized I had to change how I was approaching the problem. Instead of removing myself from the situation, I need to change how I'm putting myself in said situation. There were a few scenarios I came up with, all a little worse than the next. Unfortunately.” A pause as you shifted and crossed your arms over your chest, keeping your gaze on the man. “The best I came up with? Bring someone home with me.” His brow rose in surprise.

“Just how do you expect to do that? Are you seeing someone I don't know about?”

“No, there isn't anyone that I'm seeing.” You rolled your eyes. “But if my parents think I am, then my mother would at least get off my back, and maybe my entire family would focus on someone or something else entirely. Some peace would be a miracle and worth it.”

“It might just work. If you could make it believable enough.” He hummed as he thought about the idea you presented. Which was a good thing given what was coming next.

“You think so?” There was a noncommittal sound. Close enough. “The problem is, I don't want to bring home some random person. Would rather have someone I trust, ya know? Make it easier to figure out the whole thing. That being said, how would you feel about coming home with me for the holidays? Escape your family for a bit and get some good homemade food.” The last bit came out in a rush, the words almost blending together. Your eyes slipped from Tim, almost not wanting to see his reaction. The man across from you was the only one that you could remotely begin to trust with something like this. If he said no, it was just going to be another miserable holiday season. You waited on baited breath, unsure what his response would actually be. There were plenty of accurate predictions that you could have made when it came to how he would answer most things. This? It was far out of the realm of anything previously thought possible that you couldn't even begin to venture a guess.

“You're asking me to come home with you on the holidays and pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“I know it's a lot to…”

“You think it would work?” He cut you off before you had the chance to finish your statement. It wasn't an outright refusal. That still left you unsure what the hell was on his mind about the whole thing.

“There really isn't anyone else that I would trust more for something like this.” For a second, just the briefest of seconds, you swore you saw a blush on his cheeks. When you blinked, it was gone.

“It definitely beats dealing with what I'm gonna hear at home. So, why not? If you think we can pull this off, let's do it. Might be fun anyway.” The two of you hadn't really done anything crazy in college like some of your friends had. Playing it safe had practically been built into your DNA. When Tim had agreed, it was like a giant weight had been lifted off your chest and your shoulders.

“God, I owe you. Majorly. Like I can't even begin to pay you back for this.”

“You're getting me away from my house. We'll call It even.” Hardly the case, but you weren't about to argue with him. He might second think the entire decision. Which would be utterly disastrous. And that wasn't an over exaggeration.

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

The flight home hadn't been terrible. There was only a three hour delay. Something that you hadn't complained about even if being stuck in an airport was not anyone's idea of fun. It just meant three fewer hours you had to deal with at home.

You and Tim had hashed out the details. It had been surprisingly easy. With your long standing friendship, you both were able to toss out ideas and concoct the story that would be shared with your family. A lot of it was based in fact, something that made it that much easier to remember and be able to spout off with a confidence and genuine nature that would force your family to believe you.

Pulling up to your childhood home, the sense of dread that normally accompanied this time of the year had been significantly lessened due to the presence of the man beside you.

“You ready?” His voice broke you out of the staring contest you had been having with the house. There were already a load of cars present. Tim would have no easing into this.

“As ready as I'll ever be. Are you?”

“I'd like to think so.” Another wave of gratitude and appreciation for the man washed over you. No one could have asked for a better friend.

“All right. Let's do this.” You hoped that if it got to be too much, he would tell you. No backup plan had been created, but you could think well enough on the fly and would sort it out. Your mother was already at the door as the two of you exited the car, and despite having plotted it all out, the way that his fingers laced with yours caught you by surprise. The gentle squeeze had been as equally as unexpected, but the message was clear. Calm down. How he was so calm right then was beyond you. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“Hi mom.” A moment of thought that this wasn't the best of ideas. She hadn't given any sort of indication about Tim. Of course, she had met the man before. It was hard to be friends with him throughout college and not at some point have an introduction.

“Hey, sweetie. And hello, Tim.” Relief. You felt relief as she smiled and greeted both of you. That was the first obstacle to get over. Now, there were just several more to go before you were both back on a plane and heading back west. “I'm so glad you both could make it our here. Your family didn't mind, Tim?”

“It was a bit of a negotiation but we managed.” The lie rolled off smoothly and your mother bought it. The questioning slowed, beyond the typical asking how everything was going and what was new. Thankfully, given the fact that you both worked at the plant, it made it relatively quick to go through the list and be given some peace to settle In before dinner at the least.

“So far, so good.” Tim wasn't wrong in the assessment.

“Yeah, I would say that we have them all fairly convinced.” No real hardball questions had come your way, nor had there been any sort of awkward or uncomfortable situation. You weren't foolish enough to think either of you would make it through this unscathed. “Then again, that was all the basic, fairly easy stuff.”

“You have a point.” He sat down on the bed that you were supposed to be sharing. That part of this entire scheme had not been something that either of you had thought about, and now it crept slowly along the edges of the room. Once. You had shared a bed once before, back in the early years of college. It had been out of sheer necessity. “You know, if it's easier for you. I can sleep on the floor. I know we've technically shared a bed before…” A memory that had clearly pulled forward for him, too.

“It's fine, Tim. I'm not making you sleep on the floor while we are here. I think we can both handle it.” Just another reason to have brought someone that you could trust. “Besides, we both know that if she walks in here and finds you on the floor, she is going to throw a fit and realize that this is all a giant ruse. And that is something that neither of us wants to deal with.” It might be a little awkward the first night, but you were both adults. You could handle it. He gave a nod and a look, the one that told you that he agreed with what you had said. The wrath of your mother was bad enough. Lord only knew how the rest of your family would react to you trying to fool them. That had been a thought you briefly entertained when you had thought up this entire scheme, but It wasn't anything that you had wanted to give a lot of thought. It had to work out. Otherwise, you might never be able to attend another family holiday.

“What's next up then?”

“Dinner,” you offered as you glanced at your watch. “In about two hours. Meaning we have a little time to kill before being put under the microscope again.” Tim rubbed his hands against his pants before he gave his knees a tap and stood up.

“It's not quite cold enough to be stuck inside. Why don't we take a walk? Get out of the house and go over anything you want to triple check?” That was a wonderful idea. How you would survive this without this man was beyond you.

“Yeah, that's a great idea.” You grabbed your coat as he pulled his on. Outside, a little privacy could be afforded. No one to walk in on the two of you. One last chance to smooth out any wrinkles in how you would respond to your family. “Thank you, Tim.”

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

A few days passed and the routine became easier and easier to fall into as you both found sure footing. Your family bought the story and the act that you and Tim put on, without too much questioning. That easy level of friendship that you had was the basis and made the fake relationship incredibly believable to those around you.

It was all going too smoothly. There had to be a bump in the road eventually. And it came in the form of your sister prodding at Tim. The sort of way that immediately had your defenses bristling. The sort of prodding and underhanded comments that should have been left behind in middle school. You knew that you had both grown some thicker skin since school, college included, but that didn't mean that it didn't bother you at all. You felt even more indignant about it all since you were the one who requested that he come. He was here, helping you. Your sister prodding and needling about him and you needing to find someone better wasn't going to stand. Even if you weren't really together.

“That's enough.” Finally, you had enough of hearing it. Tim had been quiet the entire time, not defending himself or saying much. Likely, he did not want to cause a problem. Your sister paused, caught off guard by the outburst. As was the rest of the table, conversation fell utterly silent. Great. You hated all attention on you, but there wasn't anything to be done about it now. You swallowed down the worry that welled up and threatened to rob you of the next statement. “You're entitled to think whatever you want, but I won't sit here and listen to you bad mouth Tim.” The words were forceful, more than you ever typically were with anyone.

“I just don't get it. Supposed you've been friends since college. Why get together now? It doesn't seem right. And besides, it's not like you've improved yourself with him.” Your fingers curled into the material of your pants, as you tried your hardest not to lose it entirely.

“Well, maybe that's just the basis of a good relationship. But, you wouldn't know that would you. Just because I don't go through guys like water and have something solid to go off of doesn't mean it's pointless or not real. And why should it matter what he does? He's been my best friend for years and knows me better than anyone. Can treat me better than anyone. And is by far, worlds and leagues smartest than any of those rich assholes you've brought home. He's a nuclear physicist for Christ's sake. I couldn't ask for better.” You tossed your napkin onto your plate, done with dinner. Unable to really eat another bite. No one stopped you as you excused yourself from the table and all but hurried out the front door. The cooler air was welcomed. Settling. The perfect escape from the heat that had become stifling.

Taking a seat by the front door on the porch was out of question. Too close. There was too much risk of someone coming out and saying something. The best option that presented itself was to take a quick walk and hope that it cooled you down.

Ten minutes passed. And that agitation remained. The quiet didn't last, though. The gentle call of your name caught your attention. It was Tim. A rush of embarrassment threatened to overtake the agitation. But out of everyone in the house, he was the only person you would have wanted to find you.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that and cause a scene.” Before you could say anything else or move away from where you were standing, Tim grabbed you by the arms. The words that had been threatening to fall from you were stopped dead on the tip of your tongue.

“There isn't anything you need to be sorry for,” he started, with a squeeze delivered to make sure you couldn't escape. And maybe give a little comfort. “You didn't have to stand up for me like that. I know it's going to cause some problems with you and your sister.” You shook your head immediately.

“Of course I did, Tim. I wasn't going to let her talk about you like that.”

“I mean, she wasn't exactly wrong…”

“Don't you dare start on that.” A rueful smile came, his brow slightly pinched. The sort of expression that always came when there was doubt about himself. One you had seen and knew well. “I mean it, Tim. Screw what anyone else says. You're kind, thoughtful, hard working. Intelligent, obviously. I mean, nuclear physicist and all. But those first traits are important. They make you a good man. Look what you are doing for me now. I don't know anyone else who would have done something like this. And there wouldn't be anyone I could trust more with it. I don't know where I would be without you and all you've done for me.” His touch softened against your arms, and his eyes dropped from your face. Almost like he continued to doubt what you had told him. Insecurity was something you could understand well enough, having a boatload of your own.

Instead of saying anything else, you pulled him into a tight hug. After a moment of hesitation, his arms wrapped around you. Standing out in the cool, wrapped up in each other like you were, that agitation continued to die down. The hug lasted a little longer than intended. When you pulled back, you made sure to give a smile. One that felt far more genuine than forced.

“Why don't we ditch the idea of heading back inside? Me, you, some pizza, and that new Star Trek movie?” Frankly, the idea sounded a hell of a lot better than going back inside and seeing your family. Tim laughed at the plan that you laid out, and the smile that stretched across his face finally matched your own.

“Now, that's an idea I can get behind. Come on.” His arm stayed around your shoulders as you headed back to get the rental car. The consequences could be dealt with later. Some time that felt more normal between the two of you was called for, and it would help ease whatever tensions might remain. There were still a few days that you needed to get through, and it would be best to try and manage it when you felt on more level ground. You leaned into the man beside you a little more, and finally felt like everything would be okay once more.

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

The night out had been exactly what you both needed for a reset. You both felt better on the drive back to the house, able to settle in and not worry about whatever the fallout would be from the outburst earlier. As anticipated, your mother wasn't happy, ready to chew you out for leaving like you had, but you managed to push it off with a few placating words and lies. There wasn't a chance in Hell that you would be apologizing to your sister for what you had said, knowing that she wouldn't for hers. Besides, you meant what you said. An empty apology would be symbolic, sure, but you didn't even feel like forcing that. Not when she had insulted Tim the way that she had and meant it herself.

It made things a little tense and uncomfortable in the house, but you stuck to your guns over it. Which was fine by you. It meant that you and Tim had a little more peace. There were fewer pestering questions and the sort of focus that made you a little worried that they would see through the charade that you had fooled them with so far. Fine by the both of you, really.

Lazy walks in the colder weather, movies both in your old room and in the living room when no one bothered with the area, and some quiet reading. Or not so quiet reading. An activity that came as a surprise enjoyment just after college. Reading duties would be traded back and forth, one of you listening while the other read aloud. It didn't matter what it was. While you and Tim spent a lot of time together in general, the close corridors meant more than typical. Tim seemed to enjoy the time, relaxed in a way that you hadn't seen in a while. It was nice.

With a few exceptions, it was actually a nice little break from the usual routine that you had fallen into with work and the usual drum of life. In a way that neither of you had realized was needed.

The gift exchange had snuck up before you knew it. The family? They were easy. Typically, everyone was fairly routine each and every year. Not that you did the exact same thing, but they liked what they liked, and it left it almost an automatic purchase. Tim? Tim was a little different this year. He had come here for you, and you knew that he was going to have to deal with things that he shouldn't have had to just because he was there with you. It had to be something with a little more meaning, something that showed your appreciation for his friendship and what he had done for you. Without being too much, of course. That was a fine balancing act.

You were a little nervous about it all. A few practical gifts that you knew he would appreciate. Small things. A new lab coat pocket protector, this cool new little handheld Geiger counter that he could keep on himself, a funny mug for coffee. The bigger one that you had to go searching for? A signed copy of Feynman's lectures. You had heard him mention it once, just once, while you had been shifting through a used bookstore together. Along with it? A copy of a magazine signed by Einstein himself. It had cost you a pretty penny. Both things. But entirely worth it. Hopefully. The nerves were causing you to feel entirely uneasy. Far more than you ever had since the two of you decided to exchange gifts yearly. How was it different? You couldn't pinpoint it for sure, but even on a subconscious level, you knew it was the case.

Sitting in the living room, most of your family had wandered off. Which was just fine by you. It wasn't like they had a genuine interest, and at this point, everyone was still upset at you for spouting off at your sister. So be it. It meant that if you were wrong with the choices, no one could be there to mock you about it.

“So, I know we typically only do one thing. But with what you agree to do this year and what I knew you would have to put up with here, I felt like I needed to do a little more. Hope you don't mind.”

“You didn't…”

“I did, Tim. Just because you aren't fond of heading home yourself doesn't mean that you had to suffer through all of this. Besides, I wanted to.” The response was a soft laughing sound from him as he held up his hands in defeat. It wasn't an argument that he was going to win. It caused a smile, more genuine and more confident. You felt a bit better about it all now.

“Here,” you offered as you shoved the first two packages in his direction. The practical and fun gifts went over well. Not surprisingly. Those hadn't been the ones that you had been worried about. It was the next two. You knew which was which and hadn't been sure if you gave him the books or the magazine first. In the end, it was the magazine.

The look on his face was priceless. Entirely unexpected, caught completely off guard. You were thrilled with the fact as he stared at it.

“This is…” The words died, and he shook his head. The silence extended for a few moments before he finally managed to speak. “Wow. This is amazing.”

“Authenticated and everything. There's one more before you get too wrapped up.” You moved the heavy package over the table in his direction.

“You really…”

“Don't say it. Just open it,” you offered with a laugh. He rolled his eyes and reluctantly set aside the magazine before he reached for the other package. Nerves heightened for just a moment and the inside of your cheek suffered for it as your teeth bit down hard over and over.

“Where did you find this?” It went over better than the magazine.

“It took asking the right questions to the right people but that isn't important.”

“It's signed?”

“Yep.” He held it as if it was gold, and all those nerves that you had built up finally settled. Before you could say anything else, you were caught off guard by Tim leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. Spontaneous and something that couldn't have been anticipated. It was soft and quick, and when he pulled back, red tinged his cheeks. No one was here to witness it. It wasn't for show. He cleared his throat a little bit and pulled out two packages for you.

“Uh, here.” Both of the boxes were smaller. “Feel like I should have gotten you something more now but…”

“Shush, it's fine. This is more than enough.” The first one ended up being a beautiful gold watch. Yours had been accidentally destroyed over the summer, and you hadn't bothered replacing it yet. A long moment passed before you realized that you were holding a Rolex. It seemed that you weren't the only one that had spent more money than you probably should have for the season. “Tim, this is beautiful.” He urged you to try it on, and there wasn't any reason not to. It fit perfectly against your wrist, and you glanced up just in time to see the soft smile that crossed his face.

“Wasn't sure about the fit. Glad to see I got it right.”

“I love it.” It would go perfectly with anything that you wore to work and hopefully, you wouldn't do anything to ruin this one. Though it would be more sturdy than the last one.

“There's still one more.”

“All right. No need to be impatient.” The tease rolled easily, the kiss still lingering in the back of your mind. Neither of you seemed to want to bring it up yet, though. There was no need to make things awkward just yet. You found a piece of jewelry in the second box. A small strip of metal among a delicate chain.

“It's a piece of the IRS.” He grinned outright as he watched the way that your eyes widened at the mention of what it was.

“Are you serious?” He nodded, pleased with himself as he sat a little more straight.

“Yeah. I mean perfectly safe of course but directly from CERN. And, no, I'm not going to tell you how I got it.” He had anticipated your next question before it could even be thought of. Your stomach flipped and it felt like your heart might just beat right out of your chest.

“Mind helping me put it on?” He nodded and gave a little motion for you to turn before he reached for the necklace. You shifted and made sure that he was able to see what he needed to do, head tipped a little bit. The weight settled against your throat but it was comfortable. Fingers brushed over the small piece, your mind racing. His fingers lingered on the back of your neck, brushing down to your back slowly. Almost a sense of hesitation.

It was enough of a jolt to you that you turned and before any thought could be given to any action, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Fundamentally, it changed everything but things had been subtly shifting since your arrival. Things that hadn't been acknowledged or even really thought about. But they had been there. This was the culmination of it all. When you had made that statement to your sister, acknowledging that there couldn't have been anyone better, it hadn't been initially meant in a romantic sense on your part even though that was what you had wanted them to believe. It had been there though, even then, and it had only grown and shifted, twisted in ways that you couldn't anticipate.

Breaking from the kiss, the two of you were silent. A struggle to figure out what to say ensued. After another few seconds, you started to laugh softly. Unable to help it. He soon followed, and the mingled laughter rang out.

“Okay, so who is going to end up winning the bet?”

“Charlie. Without a doubt.”

“Ahh, shoulda probably have known that one.” The smiles remained. His arm found your shoulders as you resituated yourself on the couch beside him. Comfortable. It wasn't as awkward as there had been worried about. No, it was almost as natural as any other moment of your relationship had been. “We aren't going to hear the end of it.”

“No, no we are not.” It would be worth some teasing and I told you so’s by your coworkers. Even if it was a tad embarrassing, it wasn't like you were going to change a moment of it. His lips pressed to your temple softly, the affection flowing freely and easily. “This might be the best holiday I've ever had.” You couldn't help but grin at his declaration.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can argue. Best holiday I've ever had.”

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

BONUS: Platonic ending

“It's signed?”

“Yep.” He held it as if it was gold, and all those nerves that you had built up finally settled. You should have known better than to be worried about it. Tim would have appreciated a box from you. He had always been that way.

“I can't believe you managed to find this. Thank you.” He had barely been able to tear his eyes from the books in hand. Just another, sure, sign that you had managed to get it all right. There was no real compulsion to break the silence or the reverie he seemed to be in. It took a few moments before the spell broke. Like it would be anything that you would complain about. You got the same way after all. It was part of the reason that you two go along so well. He cleared his throat a little bit and pulled out two packages for you.

“Uh, here.” Both of the boxes were smaller. “Feel like I should have gotten you something more now but…”

“Shush, it's fine. This is more than enough.” The first one ended up being a beautiful gold watch. Yours had been accidentally destroyed over the summer, and you hadn't bothered replacing it yet. A long moment passed before you realized that you were holding a Rolex. It seemed that you weren't the only one that had spent more money than you probably should have for the season. “Tim, this is beautiful.” He urged you to try it on, and there wasn't any reason not to. It fit perfectly against your wrist, and you glanced up just in time to see the soft smile that crossed his face.

“Wasn't sure about the fit. Glad to see I got it right.”

“I love it.” It would go perfectly with anything that you wore to work and hopefully, you wouldn't do anything to ruin this one. Though it would be more sturdy than the last one.

“There's still one more.”

“All right. No need to be impatient.” The tease rolled easily. Despite everything, all the fake bullshit that you had to spew for your family and the closer than usual affection and contact, nothing in that strong bond between the two of you had really changed. It felt like a testament to the work that you had both put into the foundation of your relationship. Proof that such a strong platonic bone could exist. No matter what your coworkers and lord knew how many others had said. You found a piece of jewelry in the second box. A small strip of metal among a delicate chain.

“It's a piece of the IRS.” He grinned outright as he watched the way that your eyes widened at the mention of what it was.

“Are you serious?” He nodded, pleased with himself as he sat a little more straight.

“Yeah. I mean, perfectly safe, of course, but directly from CERN. And, no, I'm not going to tell you how I got it.” He had anticipated your next question before it could even be thought of. Your stomach flipped, and it felt like your heart might just beat right out of your chest.

“Mind helping me put it on?” He nodded and gave a little motion for you to turn before he reached for the necklace. You shifted and made sure that he was able to see what he needed to do, head tipped a little bit. The weight settled against your throat but it was comfortable. Fingers brushed over the small piece, unable to keep yourself from smiling. Your own little piece of history. He had hit the nail on the head incredibly well. Not that he often missed.

“It's absolutely perfect, Tim. I'm blown away.” You could hear the grin in the words, not even needing to see his face.

“Gotta say, I gave myself a bit of a pat on the back with that one. Didn't think you would be expecting it. And there wasn't a chance that anyone was getting you anything similar.” There wasn't a lie there. You didn't think that anyone thought even somewhat close to the same realm. It was more than you could have asked for and beyond anything anticipated.

“You may have just won it this year.”

“I don't know about that. These both,” he offered and motioned towards the magazine and books. “I'm thoroughly impressed. Didn't think I would ever own anything signed by Einstein, and I really thought it would be years before I would be able to find the Feynman lectures. And signed? Wouldn't have dreamed that.” All those nerves for nothing. You should have known better. You both settled back into the couch, his arm haphazardly thrown over your shoulders.

“Okay, so who is going to end up winning the bet?”

“Charlie. Without a doubt.”

“Ahh, shoulda probably have known that one.” The smiles remained. It wasn't a secret that there was an office pool surrounding the idea of if you and Tim would end up together. Particularly, the guards. When word had gotten out that he was spending the holidays with you and your family? Pandemonium. Complete and utter pandemonium. To the point that it had been wholly amusing to the both of you. “You know, they probably aren't going to believe it anyway.”

“Yeah, I know. We could end up having a little fun at their expense.”

“God, that could turn into a shit show, but it's so tempting.” The laughter that filled the room was genuine and full. As easy as it was when it was just the two of you alone.

“Right again. Unfortunately. It's probably not worth the headache. As amusing as it would be.” He hummed as if seriously contemplating it before sighing out an agreement.

“Can't have them all, I guess.” There was a comfortable silence that fell over the room. One that there wasn't any need to break right away. The entire thing could not have gone better. Your family believed it. They were off your backs, and for the most part, Tim had seemed to enjoy himself. There was no better pick than the man beside you. No better friend.

“This might be the best holiday I've ever had.” You couldn't help but grin at his declaration.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can argue. Best holiday I've ever had.”

[becauseplot]

Still feel is one of my fav fics ever and it made me so happy to see more stuff from this AU! Your post-osnf headcannons are sooo good!! Actually im a big fan of your ordem headcannons in general tbh

If you dont mind sharing more on it...Can you maybe tell us a bit more about your ideas for the effects the symbol left on Thiago? Like, is he still connected to it or to Santo Berço somehow?? I find this consequences stuff really interesting and id be cool to hear more about it

Aw thanks!! I'm glad someone's getting some enjoyment out of my rambles <33

I can go a bit deeper, of course! Warning for the fact that this does get pretty sad and heavy, sorry :(

So Santo Berço really is gone. Equipe E destroyed it. The effects that Thiago is now dealing with are essentially mental scarring: a mix of normal human PTSD with a paranormal "flare" to it. The Symbol has seared itself not just onto his back but onto his mind as well. His dreams of the Symbol are due to trauma and the fact that, just as he suspects, he was never meant to escape it. It is stuck with him now. Anything touched by Death cannot go back to the way it was before, after all.

I kind of like to think about his mental state in terms of Ordem's "sanity" system as well. He recovers plenty of "sanity" while in injury recovery, since he's given time to rest, away from stressors. Eventually, he starts to do work for the Order again, but he quickly learns that he can't handle stressful, paranormal events like he could before (systems-wise, he has a permanent de-buff/disadvantage in the sanity checks) and missions---even the short one he starts out with---just put too much strain on his body. So, he winds up becoming part of the Order's cover-up team, helping fudge official reports and write up those "logical explanations" that Veríssimo sometimes references.

It's a role that's...much easier on him, after everything he went through. He does notice a pattern between his stress and the frequency of the Symbol dreams, so it's much better this way. He will, on rare occasions, help his friends out in the field with intel gathering (perhaps encountering a Horror on the way, which is never fun), and with he gets to serve as a sounding board for Liz's investigations, both her personal ones and the ones she does with the Order.

There are...other effects of the symbol. That he doesn't like to talk about. He's taken a sickly comfort in swirling designs, ever since he woke up in that hospital; back when he dealt with the nightmares on his own, before Liz and the others knew about them, he used to go to bed with reminders to himself ("Your name is Thiago Fritz, you live in São Paulo with Liz, she's in the bedroom upstairs...") written on his arm surrounded by swirls in the hopes they might calm him down enough to think and read it. He ponders his father's pocket watch more than he should, taking solace in the even, steady tick of time moving at the right pace as much as he does watching the second hand go around and around. He finds himself tracing circle after circle after circle with his finger when he's lost in thought or anxious about something...

He finds himself taking comfort in it. The Symbol. The thought makes him feel ill.

Over the months between osnf and opd, his mind slowly starts to deteriorate. Anything touched by Death cannot go back to the way it was before, after all. The frequency of the dreams has always been correlated with his stress and thus fluctuates, but on average they start to get more frequent, and the more intense ones happen more often, and it slowly gets worse, and worse, and worse until---

---he "zones out" one day, thinking of the Symbol. Thirty seconds, nothing much, it must just be on his mind. Then, he starts to fully disconnect from his surroundings, in his own head, pondering the Symbol for a minute or two. The white void starts to creep into his vision sometimes, reality losing meaning and definition, for several minutes at a time. Minutes turn to an hour, two hours, more, if no one is around to pull him out of it.

Thiago, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, is very, very tired. His mind and body are worn out, abused, overused. The thought that he's been living on borrowed time ever since Santo Berço comes more often than he'd like. At the worst of times, he feels like he's orbiting and closing in on some final, finite point. But he'll never tell his friends this because he knows it'll scare them because fuck, it scares him too. (Though, the times where it doesn't scare him are...even worse.)

[thebroccolination]

Thank you thank you thank you OMG thank you so much for making your post about Krist! I know it takes a lot of effort!

I remember seeing the post about him being Homophobic, and I took it at face value because I couldn't be bothered to look into it, and because I never really saw him in any other productions.

I'm so extremely happy to have been given this opportunity to rectify my opinion on Krist, and as a queer person myself I entirely agree with your point about him being "vetted" by other queer people. It holds immense meaning to me.

I can't call myself a fan of Krist, mostly because I've barely seen anything with him. But as a queer person, it hurts me to know that someone who provides safety and warmth to the queer community was/is being bashed by a community I am part of.

So, thank you for spending time and effort to compile and share your thoughts, and the corresponding evidence and discourse related to Krist. And thank you for being upfront with your bias, and for acknowledging the various opinions present in the discourse.

PS: I skip plenty of heterosexual intimacy scenes because I feel kinda disconnected from them and they're not really doing anything for me. So even if Krist was being dead serious with that point, I feel that's fully valid. If you're watching something for entertainment and enjoyment, isn't it fine to skip intimacy scenes if they're not your cup of tea???

Ahh, thank you so much for this, Anon. It truly, genuinely means a lot to me. :')

I really wasn't the best person to make that post. I don't speak Thai, I've only been here for three years, and I've followed BounPrem more closely from the beginning, so there were a lot of Krist-related clips and links that I needed help finding. But I made it because I hoped it would serve as a jumping-off point for new fans and for people who'd be willing to see things from a different perspective.

There's just such a massive dissonance between the image interfandom has painted of Krist and the loud but sweet guy I've followed for the past three years. There were a lot of clips and anecdotes and stories I chose not to include in my thread/post purely because they were subjective and I didn't want to distract from the factual stuff I could find (social media posts, interviews, etc.). When you're filmed as much as he has been for the past seven years, you can't really hide who you are in a general sort of sense. And Krist really does just seem…very kind in general.

The reason I even started paying attention to him in the first place was because of a video posted by a Thai fan. He didn't have time to greet fans outside the GMMTV building because he'd gotten stuck in traffic and he had to rush to something, so he did a very quick hello/wai to the fans waiting for him and promised to come back soon. When he did, he noticed one of the fans was missing and asked the rest where she went. The remaining fans said she had to leave because she had to catch a plane (iirc) to her home elsewhere in Thailand, and Krist looked instantly guilty and remorseful that she'd waited for him. I think he even said, "Why didn't she say so?" sort of rhetorically, and I really do think he would have taken the time to talk with her if he'd known she had to leave soon. I just admire him for remembering them all well enough to notice that one was missing. That sort of kindness stands out to me.

[small rambling section]

(I apologize for using your ask for such a long post, Anon!)

Seeing the vitriol Krist gets from international fans really disappoints me. Even when he posted in support for Pride Month last week, he had dozens of international fans jumping down his throat attacking him for it because they assumed it was disingenuous even though he has been publicly supportive of the queer community outside Pride Month for years.

To no one's surprise, that level of hate just isn't present in Thai fandom. And if Krist were the monster he's been portrayed as, wouldn't Thai fans be just as, if not more, vocal about it? I mean, I'm sure Krist has his share of Thai fans who don't like him for whatever reason, but the only people I see throwing that IG story around and saying Krist should kill himself are international fans.

So.

That's a fun reputation we have.

Personally, I don't live my life in pursuit of punishment for strangers. If I don't like a celebrity, I don't give them my attention. I don't interact with them. Like, I don't know what their deal is, what they're going through. I may judge them privately, but putting that toxicity into public forums just invites toxic responses, and that's not what fandom is for me.

I truly believe that Krist was never homophobic in any way. I think he was just Very Tired of all the harassment and stalking he and Singto had to go through at a very young age before GMMTV was posting any kind of "hey everyone calm down maybe" notices.

I also know now that there's a lot more context and nuance behind Krist's early career mistakes that I still don't know, because I only got here in 2020 and I don't speak Thai. Since BMF starting airing, though, there have been older fans sharing my thread on Twitter and my post here on Tumblr, and sharing more details. Some are things I suspected, like that because SOTUS kicked off the BL wave, Krist and Singto faced a metric ton of homophobia themselves. It wasn't just fans, either, it was the country as a whole.

I don't know so much about Thai BL even after three years in this fandom, so it's bizarre and disturbing to me how enthusiastically non-Thai fans like to jump in and crucify Thai actors with an air of superiority. Even the official subtitles on the series we watch aren't reliable, and yet people think that auto-generated translations or translations done by fans from one second language into another as a hobby to help other fans get the gist of what an actor is saying is some irrefutable evidence that validates a campaign to tell actors thousands of kilometers away to kill themselves?

Like, I dunno, buddy, isn't uplifting the actors you do admire more worth your energy? And not in a "my actor is better than yours" way, but in a genuine "this thing this person did made me happy" way. "I can do both!" Yeah, I guess. But why? Harassing people helps no one. It's performative activism at best, and at worst, you're just bolstering the culture of cyberbullying that has led and will continue to lead people to take their own lives. Krist has suffered from depression. He has been to four different therapists. He is a real person with family and pets and a history of kindness that means he's quickly adopted by most of the people he works with. If you're going to take up an axe against someone, make it a politician or a lobbyist or someone who doesn't regularly use his platform to speak out for queer rights.

[end rambling]

I may spend more time on Twitter while Be My Favorite is airing just because I've seen a decent amount of Recreational Krist Hate and not enough positivity to balance it out here on Tumblr. Since his fanbase is more active on Twitter, there's been a lot of positivity to enjoy. <3

But that's why I was so happy to get this message from you, Anon. (I hope it's clear that none of my rambling up there was directed at you.)

Thank you for being kind enough to reach out. It really made the time and energy it took to make that post feel worth it. :)

[ask-the-royal-absol]

*The hug lasted for a few seconds before Destino pulled away. Hope watched, quite amazed that Destino felt something other than smug confidence. It was actually quite nice to see. It reminded her of her and her dad. He had given her so much encouragement throughout her life which made her into the strong, confident pokemon she was today. She couldn’t help but smile. Maybe Destino wasn’t as bad as she had assumed.

Felix always knew Hershel had a soft spot for Destino. He went out of his way to help the Prime whenever he could. And Roy had saved Destino from near death on a couple of occasions. Felix knew that what Hershel had said would be exactly what Destino would need.

Hershel knew exactly what to say to Destino at the exact right moment. It was like he knew how terrified they actually were to go and save the world. It was so much for a single Pokémon to do. Destino was confident about a lot of things. They loved to brag about how amazing they were at everything. But this situation was just so much. The entire world resting on their shoulders. A Pokémon that had never ventured up to the surface.

But, Hershel believed they could do it. And that helped Destino feel better about it all. Destino looked up at Hershel, the Bisharp warmly smiling at them. The Prime was going to miss having both Hershel and Roy around. “Looks like it’s time to head up there. You both have been good to me.” Destino leaned in close to whisper to Hershel. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I am going to miss the both of you.”

Hershel gave a chuckle and whispered, “I will not tell a soul, my Prime,” back. The Absol turned to face their companions coming with them on this quest. At least they’d have Felix as a familiar face up there. They still didn’t trust Hope fully but they figured she was their best shot at helping them to at least survive the cruel surface world.

“Alright, now if you two are gonna expect a hug from me at any time during the surface, just know you’re not getting one. This was a different occasion and one you should ignore. I’m hoping none of those other Pokémon broke my luggage. It’s incredibly fragile and they would never be able to replace them.”

The Blaziken looked confused. What stuff would Destino need that could be easily broken. She stepped forward. “What stuff? You shouldn’t really need all that much going up there. We have plenty of hygiene and other equipment you can use.”

Destino gave a laugh at the ridiculous statement. “You really think the items you have up there will be good enough for me? You’ve got to understand, Hope, I have a very meticulous fur care routine. If I don’t brush my fur with my special comb every three hours, it’ll become tangled. I’ve got mirrors and shampoo and everything that I could possibly need.”

The Blaziken stared at Destino, dumbfounded at their comment. She turned towards Felix, who shrugged and gave her an, “I tried to tell them,” look. She had to ask. She looked down at the little Absol. “Ok, Destino. I need you to answer this truthfully. How many bags of items do you have to bring to the surface?”

“Enough.”

Frustration grew in Hope’s face. She didn’t have time for this. “Destino. I need a number.”

“35 bags. Why?” Destino’s face grew more smug. They knew what she was going to ask. It was very fun seeing her frustration grow. A sigh left Hope’s mouth.

“No. No, I’m not letting you go up to the surface with all of that. You’re gonna have to leave it all behind. Or at least only have one small bag with all of your essentials.”

“But those have all of my essentials in. You mean to tell me that I’ll have to go up there and tell all those Pokémon that all of their hard work and effort moving my bags was for nothing? But they’ve just spent so long moving it all. Why didn’t you let me know sooner about the one bag rule?” Destino knew very well that they wouldn’t be allowed to take that mass of items up with them. It was just enjoyable making others do work for them.

“Because I didn’t know you’d be bringing anything!” Hope raised her voice but the smug expression on the absol grew wider. It was too easy to torment the Blaziken. If this was what being on the surface meant, Destino was definitely going to enjoy it more than they anticipated. Felix could see Hope’s annoyance and felt bad for her, mouthing, “sorry.”

“I guess I’ll have to go up there and tell everyone. What a shame that everything was for naught,” the Absol smugly said. The reactions of the other Pokémon were going to be priceless! “I’m going to blame you for this entire mess, Hopey. Can I at least keep one thing?”

“What?” She couldn’t hide her annoyance. Hope assumed the worse. She mentally took back her thought about Destino not being that bad.

“Some black glasses. I’ve read about something called the sun which is apparently quite bright. Not as bright and brilliant as me but I don’t think anything could be. Anyway, the book said the sun can destroy your eyes and I don’t want to risk my pretty eyes getting any form of damage.” Black glasses? Like, sunglasses? How on earth would Destino have access to sunglasses down here? And they read? Hope just assumed Destino would have never touched a single book in their entire life. At least it wasn’t as bad as she assumed it’d be.

“Fine. That’s actually the most sensible thing I’ve heard come from your mouth.”

“Excellent,” the Absol clapped their paws together, “Rude with the whole sensible thing but I’ll let you off this once, Hopey. Come along now. Wouldn’t want to keep the surface Pokémon waiting to see me any longer.” Destino led the way up the cold dungeon steps, with Hope and Felix following behind. The Bisharps moved swiftly to follow as well. Though, something plagued both of their minds.

Destino’s parents had not appeared yet. And they were soon to return from their surface visit. Would Destino want to see them first before they left or leave without their parents knowing?

[shiorimakibawrites]

The Conversation (Part 10 of Alley Cat)

Image credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Amber Kipp / Nathan Dumlao

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem! Reader

Word Count: 5701

Summary: Matt Murdock and Reader have a conversation.

Warning(s): Awkward flirting, thirsty Reader, frank thoughts about sex and sexual acts, referenced character death, referenced ableism, hurt/comfort, cat antics

Author’s Note: This turned into a beast. It took longer to write than I expected as after I wrote the first draft, I realized the muses had presented the events out of order. I wasn't expecting both horniness and angst but here we are.Hope this was worth the wait.

Can also be read here

Series Masterlist is here.

The Conversation

by Shiori_Makiba

You poured yourself a cup of coffee. You were trying not to worry that you had completely misread the situation. It was hard. Because it was past midnight and there was still no sign of Daredevil. As you doctored the coffee to your liking, you once again tried to tell yourself that you were worrying about nothing.

Maybe he was just busy. That Houdini had managed to escape while you were in the shower. Usually if he wasn’t intercepted, that meant Daredevil was busy. You hadn’t heard more sirens than usual but that didn’t mean it wasn’t rowdy out there. It could just mean that said rowdiness wasn’t happening that close to your apartment.

Maybe he had gotten hurt again. You hoped not. Or if he had, you hoped that he had listened to the Night Nurse for a change and was resting. A delay wouldn’t do your nerves any favors but you’d rather he delayed your conversation than be the reason he tore his stitches or otherwise aggravated his injuries.

Maybe it wasn’t even his Daredevil side that keeping him busy. Assuming that you weren’t crazy and he actually was Matt Murdock . . . well, he could have a lot of legal work to do. Nelson & Murdock didn’t seem to have a paralegal on their team. Which meant they were doing all the research and writing themselves. You were intimately familiar with how long both could take. Maybe Page was assisting them on that front, assuming she had the training to do so. And the time since she might be too busy with her investigative work.

Even if she did assist them, they would still need to read her drafts and the cases she found for them before submitting any of it to the court. At least if they were sensible. Nothing against Page – you remembered her articles in the Bulletin and was sure she would do just as well on drafting motions and legal research. Just that Murdock (and Nelson if he was aware) were already risking their licenses enough. No need to risk Rule 11 sanctions on top of it.

The point was that being a lawyer (if he really was a lawyer) would give him plenty of reasons to be burning the midnight oil.

There were a myriad of other possible reasons. You didn’t know anything about his family. One of them could have an emergency of some kind. Or it could be something silly like he decided to take a nape before going on patrol and forget to set his time-to-fight-crime alarm first . . .

If you were right . . . Matt Murdock’s hair, in addition to looking very enjoyable to run your fingers through, seemed like the kind to produce incredible bedhead. You snickered. Imagining him trying to stuff that kind of fluffy mess under his helmet struck you as funny.

You were still snickering as you made yourself comfortable on the couch. You picked up the remote and started browsing through the streaming options. You had been watching nature documentaries earlier but had almost fallen asleep. You loved learning about animals but you almost always fell asleep watching them. Maybe it was narration. There was something rather soothing about a soft-spoken voice telling you about fish . . .

But you needed to stay awake so more nature documentaries were out. You settled on The Princess Bride. You had seen it a million times but figured that a million and one wouldn’t hurt. Despite the fact that you practically had the film memorized, it didn’t take long for you to become thoroughly engrossed in the story.

The sudden knock on the window made you jump. Heart pounding, you looked over at the window to see Daredevil standing on your fire escape, Houdini held in one arm. Immediately your heart slowed to a more normal pace. Seemingly aware that he now had your attention, he gave you a cheeky little wave.

It was a little tempting to leave him standing there for giving you a heart attack but that would mean leaving Houdini out there too. And that wouldn’t be fair to Houdini. Besides you had been waiting far too long for this conversation. So you paused the movie and went over to the window.

You unlocked and opened it. You were about to hold out your arms for the now familiar transfer of cat but paused. Houdini’s coat was messy. It looked like he had been rolling in dirt and there were tufts of fur missing.

“Houdini, have you been fighting?” you asked the cat. Who just meowed at you.

“Yes,” Daredevil answered. “With an another cat in an alley not far from my apartment.”

You sighed. “Hang on while I get a towel. I don’t want all that alley yuck all over my shirt.”

“No, you don’t,” Daredevil agreed with a slight grimace. Probably because he had said alley yuck all over his gloves and suit from carrying the cat from that alley to your apartment.

That gave you an idea. When your brother had come to visit you, he had forgotten some of his clothes. He was about the same size as Daredevil. And it was just a pair of sweatpants and muscle shirt. Which ought to be flexible enough for him to wear comfortably.

You detoured to your bedroom to retrieve the forgotten clothing, then went to the linen closet in the bathroom to grab a towel and some washcloths. Daredevil was waiting patiently on the fire escape when you returned, Houdini less so. You sat everything but the towel on the coffee table and went over to the window. There you accepted the transfer of Houdini into the waiting towel.

You stepped to one side of the window and said, “Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“As you wish,” he said with a little amused grin. Like he was making some kind of joke.

He swung one leg over the still, ducked his head down to move his upper body through the window, and then pulled his other leg inside. He moved with an easy, fluid grace. You tried not to be jealous about his ability to avoid tripping over his own feet as he closed the window.

As soon as window clicked shut, you felt the nerves you had pushed away earlier return. Up until now, this impending conversation had been mere potential. Something that may or may not happen. But now that he was standing in your apartment while you held your dirty cat in the towel, it no longer felt like a maybe. Like there was no avoiding telling him you were pretty sure that he was Matt Murdock.

You decided to distract yourself by attending to the necessary task of getting Houdini cleaned up and checked for injuries. You bent down and retrieved the washcloths before walking into the kitchen. You hoped that mess on his fur could be cleaned with a damp cloth. Neither of you liked it when you had to give him a bath . . .

“You don’t seem surprised,” Daredevil said.

“About what?” you asked as you turned on the kitchen tap and waited for the water to warm. Houdini wasn’t going to like the damp washcloth at all but he would like it even less if it was cold.

“Houdini fighting. Is that something he does often?”

“I’m not sure often is the right word,” you said. “But no, this isn’t the first time he’s come home after clearly being in a fight.”

“An escape artist and a brawler,” Daredevil said, sounding amused.

“Yes, you two have much in common,” you said which earned you a chuckle. You tested the water. It was warm enough and you wetted one of the cloths. As predicted, Houdini reacted to the cleaning with his usual attitude – lots of meowing and squirming.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m a mean mommy,” you said, forgetting that you had an audience until Daredevil laughed. He sounded closer than the living room.

You looked up to see that he had indeed followed you into the kitchen. There was something surreal about Daredevil standing in the same room as your collection of funny coffee mugs and various craft projects gifted to you from your niece and nephew.

“I meant what I said,” you said as you turned back to your task. Thankfully whatever that gunk was, it was cleaning away easily. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I don’t want to get the ‘alley yuck’ on your couch,” he said.

Here was your opportunity. You took a deep breathe, gathered your courage, and took the plunge. “You can use some of the washcloths on the coffee table to clean off your suit or . . .”

“Or?” he asked.

“You can change into the clothes that are also on the coffee table, Mr. Murdock.”

You watched as the little amused smile morphed into a pleased grin. He reached up and removed his helmet. And there he was, Matt Murdock standing in your kitchen.

“Call me Matt,” he said smiling.

You didn’t know why seeing his face right now had such an impact on you. You had seen it at the office. But in the hallway, time had been limited and your eyes had zeroed in on that familiar mouth. Later, when you were signing paperwork, you sneaked glances but didn’t want Nelson to catch you ogling his partner.

Through he was so handsome, you were pretty sure that Nelson was used to people checking out his partner. If not outright undressing him with their eyes. You couldn’t be the only one whose eyes had been unable to resist the urge to rove over those broad shoulders, thick thighs, glorious ass, and that pretty mouth.

Maybe because at his office, his eyes had been hidden behind those red sunglasses. This was the first time you had ever seen his eyes. Big, brown eyes. Looking at those eyes, you just knew that he had a killer sad face. The kind that could make you feel like you had just kicked a poor, innocent puppy. That kind that no one could withstand because no one wants to feel like a puppy-kicking monster. Hopefully no one had informed him of this powerful weapon in his arsenal.

It was a good thing that his helmet covered so much of his face. Apart from the whole not wanting to get arrest and go to prison thing, he looked a lot less intimidating. Part of that was, without the helmet, he looked younger than he probably was. Which you guessed was early to mid thirties. You supposed he could actually be younger than that but when you tapped the rumor mill, no one had said anything about Murdock being the Doogie Howser of law. They mentioned his disability often enough that you assumed that teen genius would have come up.

Add in those aforementioned big brown eyes and fluffy brown hair, the end result was that he looked about as scary as a puppy. Maybe he would look scarier when he was angry. Or maybe you just weren’t the best judge of his scariness since he had never scared you.

Making you jump being a sneaky-sneak didn’t count.

You had been right about the hair. Helmet hair wasn’t the same as bedhead but it is still a delightful mess that your hands itched to bury themselves in.

Keep your hands to yourself, you told yourself sternly. Matt isn’t your cat. Or puppy. You can’t just pet him.

But you wanted to. Houdini, sensing your lack of attention, took the opportunity to squirm out of your grip. Your hands being free only made the desire worse. You wondered if you would need to literally sit on your hands to stop yourself from doing something stupid . . .

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, bringing your mind back to the present. Matt was no longer smiling, his hands fidgeting with his helmet. His shoulders were hunched, almost like he wanted to hide. His eyes were filled with uncertainty and a growing sadness.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you rushed out. You were right to be worried about those eyes. That wasn’t even a full sad puppy face and you still had absolutely no resistance to it. “Just got lost in thought.”

“Oh?” he said. You were right about the eyebrow raising accompanying that particular tone. “About what?”

“Your hair,” you said. And because apparently your brain-to-mouth filter was disabled, continued, “It’s very fluffy. I want to bury my hands in it but you aren’t a cat. I can’t just start petting you . . .”

You clapped your hands over your mouth but the damage had been done. You groaned. That was easily the most embarrassing thing you had ever said to anyone, let alone a cute guy.

While obviously surprised by your word vomit at first, it was soon replaced with something else. Delight. It transformed his already handsome face into something indescribably beautiful. You felt yourself get weak in the knees. It wasn’t fair. He was already sexy. Why did he have to be pretty too?

Matt threw his head back and laughed. It sounded so cheerful that you couldn’t even get mad at him for laughing at you.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said between chuckles. “You are welcome to touch my hair anytime you want.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Really,” he confirmed before his smile shifted to something wicked. “Along with anything else.”

You blushed. You could think of several things. None of which were appropriate. Especially before the first date. Assuming he wanted a date from you. It seemed like it but maybe outrageous flirt was just his personality and all he wanted was more like friends with benefits.

You weren’t opposed to getting laid. You hadn’t had sex with anyone other than yourself in a long time. But you knew you wanted more than just sex from him. Even if it was good sex.

“Maybe later,” you muttered, forgetting for a moment about his super ears. Until his bark of laughter reminded you.

“I think I’ll take you up on that clothing offer,” he said after he got his laughter under control. “If you would show me where the bathroom is?”

“Sure,” you said. And, after a quick detour to the coffee table to grab the clothing, you lead him to the bathroom. And got a quick crash course on providing useful layout information to a blind person. Even one whose remaining senses had been enhanced to a superhuman degree.

While he sat down his helmet and started removing his gloves, you took out some washcloths out of the linen cabinet and set them down on the counter.

“Washcloths if you want to clean the alley yuck off of your suit,” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. He had already gotten the top of the suit was loose, offering a tantalizing glimpse of muscled chest. You felt your face heat.

“Y-your welcome,” you said and fled the bathroom. Before you did something like see if he was serious about letting you touch him anywhere you wanted. Keeping your mind out of the gutter was already hard enough without seeing him nearly naked. Assuming he was wearing something under that suit. For all you knew, he was nude under all that dark red leather and Kevlar.

And now you were picturing it. Again. You have got to stop imagining him naked. You were already awkward enough around Matt . . .

You jumped when you felt something brush against your leg. You looked down and saw Houdini rubbing against your legs. Little sneak. Well, you needed a distraction so you would stop thinking about Matt naked. Houdini was good at being distracting.

You bent down and picked up Houdini. You started petting him and used the action to check him for injuries. You hadn’t seen any injury when you cleaned him but his coat was pretty thick. It would be easy to miss something. Maybe because his earlier capture and cleaning, it didn’t take Houdini long to want to be put down.

And after you checked one last spot, you would do just that. Which Houdini complained about. Loudly.

“What are you doing to that cat?” asked Matt. You jumped and lost your grip on Houdini. Who wasted no time escaping. You sighed. He probably wasn’t hurt but you liked to be sure. Cat bites could be nasty.

“Trying to make sure he didn’t get bitten or something,” you said. “He is obviously cooperative and not a pain in the ass about it. Doesn’t remind me of anyone at all.”

Matt laughed but notably didn’t deny the accusation. “Would it ease your mind to know that I didn’t smell any blood on him when I picked him up and still don’t?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling relieved. You turned to looked at him walking up the hallway and felt your mouth go dry.

The good news was that your brothers clothes fit. The bad news was that they fit. The gray sleeveless shirt displayed his arms and all their muscular glory. You knew he had muscles. Anyone who went around punching crime in the face like he did had to have muscles. The suit hinted at muscles. Those hints were nothing to actually seeing it. You were mesmerized by everything from the big muscles of his upper arms down to the forearms covered in dark hair and the large hands with thick fingers.

You bit your bottom lip. You weren’t going to gasp or moan or make any other embarrassing noise. That heat you had felt earlier returned with a vengeance. Especially as your mind supplied you with heady images of those arms picking you up and tossing you on the bed. Those hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning your arms over your head while he . . .

A soft call of your name broke the reverie. You blushed when you realized that wasn’t the first time he had called your name either. Then blushed hard when you saw the smug smirk on his face. He knew. He knew you were checking him out and was very turned on about it. How did he . . .

A sudden and terrifyingly embarrassing realization struck you. It wasn’t just his hearing that was enhanced. It was everything. Including his nose. You had worried about his bloodhound nose earlier but that had been about smelling bad from various body odors. But what if he could smell things like pheromones? Or the slick pooling between your legs?

Seeing his tongue swipe across his lips made you wonder if he could taste it?

You buried your face in your hands, feeling the heat of your skin against your fingers. Every time you thought something dirty about him, had he been able to tell? Discern it from the racing of your heart along smelling (and tasting) you getting wet from those thoughts?

“A penny for your thoughts?” he asked. It was question but the tone was more of a demand. His voice had gotten a little rough, closer to the Devil than Matt Murdock. You peered between your fingers at him. He had stopped in front of you, his eyes landing on your chest. Anyone else and you would thought he was ogling your breasts. But Matt couldn’t ogle. Not with his eyes anyway.

But those eyes that were dark with hunger . . . and you looked down. And had to bite your lip again to hold back a sound. Those sweatpants did nothing to hide his growing erection and your cunt was throbbing with need. Almost against your will, you shifted closer. Just a little further and you’d be pressed up against him . . .

A strident yowl shattered the growing tension. You jumped back, startled. Looking behind you, you could see Houdini standing by his wet food bowl. Which was empty. When it was well past time for his nightly treat. Hence the irate yowling and the swishing tail.

Part of you wanted to angry at the cat for being a little cock-block. The other part was grateful for the interruption. Having sex, as enjoyable as it was looking like it would have been, might have set the wrong tone for this relationship. You wanted Matt to date you, not just fuck you.

Still it took more willpower than was pretty to step away from him. To turn your back and walk over to Houdini’s feeding station. As you spooned out the fishy food, you were hyperaware of Matt’s presence and his focused attention. Not wanting any further interruptions, you double-checked the dry food and water bowls.

That completed, you took a couple of deep breaths. And feeling a little more bit more in control of yourself, you turned back around to look at Matt. It looked like you weren’t the only one who managed to wrestle back some self control. His eyes were still dark but he no longer looked like he wanted to eat you.

You tried not feel disappointed about that.

“Um, maybe we should sit down,” you said, gesturing toward the couch.

“As you wish,” he said with a little twitch of the lips and slight lilt to his voice. Like he was making a joke . . .

Your eyes widened and you blurted out, “You’ve seen The Princess Bride?”

And immediately cringed. What had happened to your brain-to-mouth filter? You knew you had one. Otherwise you would have fired from your job ages ago after telling a client or one of your coworkers what you really thought about them and their unclear instructions and/or unreasonable demands . . .

“Yes,” he answered with a fond smile on his lips. “Foggy loves it and introduced it to me while we were at Columbia. I enjoyed it so we’ve watched it several times.”

You nodded. That would fit. Despite that hidden edge of sharpness, Foggy Nelson had seemed like a Princess Bride kind of guy.

“That explains a lot about The Man in the Mask,” you said,

“Does it?” he asked.

“Unless those grainy photographs have deceived me, your black outfit is very Dread Pirate Roberts,” you said. “Minus the rapier.”

“Disappointed?”

“A little,” you said with forced casualness. “The rapier is pretty cool.”

“Cooler than batons?”

“A stick just doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi as rapier.”

“Inconceivable! Batons are infinitely cooler than rapiers.”

“Look, I’m sure your stick is very impressive . . .,” you started before stopping when he started snickering. Then you realized how your words could be taken and blushed.

“Most impressive, I’m told,” he said with a wicked grin. “I have also been praised for my skill in wielding it.”

You knew he wasn’t talking about the batons he used against criminals. You felt your blush deepen as you couldn’t keep your eyes away from the bugle in his pants. It hinted at a promising size and inevitably your mind recalled your fantasies. How you imagined he would feel inside you. Your cunt clenched around nothing. You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your thighs together and squirm. It took everything not to reach down and start touching yourself. Or walk over to him and yank those sweatpants down . . .

Your eyes flicked up to his face and sure enough, that smug smirk was back. Along with that hungry look. His hands were curled into fists at his sides and his body was stiff with tension. Like it was also taking everything in him not walk over and start pulling your pants down . . .

Somehow you forced yourself to move away from him. To go to the couch and sit down like your cunt wasn’t aching with need. You tried to focus your mind on something other than sex. You didn’t even notice him moving until his weight settled on the couch. On the opposite end. That was good (It was bad insisted the horny parts of your brain). You weren’t sure you would have been able to stop yourself from straddling his lap if he had sat down next to you (horny brain insisted the only problem was that you both were wearing too much clothing . . .).

“So,” you said, trying and failing to prevent your voice was sounding breathy. “How about those Mets?”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Are you really asking about baseball?”

“I thought that’s what you were supposed to do,” you said, trying to joke. “Think about baseball.”

He chuckled. “I got told to think about Jesus.”

“That’s . . .” You paused and tried to think of way of describing it that wouldn’t be considered insulting. “A very religious answer.”

“Well, they were nuns.”

“Nuns?” you repeated. “Are you Catholic?”

“Guilty,” he said.

Somehow it fit. Of course, the blind ninja vigilante lawyer was Catholic. Only a Catholic would have the operatic level of drama needed to dress like the Devil to beat up criminals by night and be a criminal defense attorney by day.

He only laughed when you told that. But rather tellingly, he didn’t deny it.

After he got his laughter under control, he said, “I know you must have questions. You can ask.”

You plucked at the hem of your shirt. He was right. You had so many questions. Many of which even had absolutely nothing to do with sex or how he may or may not feel about you.

“I’m not sure where to start,” you admitted. “What was everyone else’s first question?”

“Are you really blind?”

You frowned. “Someone actually asked you that?”

“Several someones,” he answered. “Pretty much everyone when they discover that I’m Daredevil. For the record, the answer is yes, I’m really blind.”

“I never doubted that,” you said. “Please don’t take this the wrong way but pretending to be blind sounds like a lot of hassle for very little benefit.”

“Exactly,” he said. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’d rather people didn’t treat me like I’m made of glass. I hate that.”

You didn’t know what to say about that. You weren’t sure there was anything you could do say that wouldn’t sound like pity. But maybe he didn’t need you to say anything. Maybe he just needed you to listen and try not to repeat other people’s bad behavior.

“I can’t promise that I wouldn’t mess up,” you said. “I can only promise to try. Can you promise to tell me when I’m doing or saying something wrong? Or when I’m making bad assumptions?”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Most people seem surprised that I can fight at all. But you don’t seem surprised. Why?”

“Oh,” you said. “I read an article once about blind martial artists while researching. Don’t remember much of it – it’s been years.”

“Are you looking for articles about blind martial artists?”

“Probably not,” you said. “I fall into these research rabbit holes where I started off curious about one thing but end up reading or watching something unrelated to the original topic because it sounded interesting.”

He gave a hum of understanding.

“One of those forays lead me to a documentary about this group of blind people who had learned how to echolocate. Again, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it so I’m probably not remembering everything correctly but I figured if someone with normal human hearing can do it, someone with your senses ought to be able to.”

He nodded. “I can. And that’s a large part of how I navigate my surroundings and fight. But it isn’t just echoes. It’s other sounds like heartbeats. And it’s differences in air pressure and temperature. Put them together all and with a little concentration, I can build a picture in my mind of what and who is in my surroundings. There’s no detail. Just shapes. But it’s enough that I can basically tell where, example, the table is. Or when someone is trying to punch me.”

“Sounds like a lot to process,” you said.

He shrugged. “I’m used to it. My world on fire.”

“Poetic,” you said. “Why fire?”

“Because those things? Air currents, temperatures, echoes? They aren’t static.”

“Like a candle flame,” you said, hoping you were understanding his metaphor correctly. “Sometimes they burn hotter. Or grew dim. Or flicker.”

“Exactly. The ‘flames’ I can perceive can and does fluctuate depending on the circumstances. Everything from the weather to how loud somewhere is can change the flames.”

You nodded, thinking carefully. As much as someone who wasn’t directly experiencing it could understand it, you think you might understand.

“You said it takes a little concentration?” you started. Encouraged by his nod, you continued, “Am I wrong to assume that things that affect your ability to concentrate impact this world on fire?”

“No, you aren’t,” he said. “It’s harder when I’m tired or I have a headache. And when I lose control of my filtering process and get overloaded.”

“Filtering process?”

“I get a lot more sensory input than I can realistically deal with,” he explained. “Before I learned how to control my senses, I would alternate between screaming and catatonic. The nuns thought I was either crazy or possessed.”

“You spend a lot time around nuns?” you asked. Even for a Catholic, that sounded odd.

“Catholic school,” he said. “And I lived at St. Agnes Orphanage until I was eighteen.”

“Orphanage?” you repeated.

“Yeah,” he said. “My mother left when I was baby and my dad died when I was ten. The rest of the family was either dead or wanted nothing to do with me, so I wound up at St. Agnes.”

“What happened to your dad? Was he sick?”

“No,” Matt said. He closed his eyes and his hands tightened into fists. “He was murdered.”

“Murdered?” you echoed, shocked.

“Yes,” he said. His eyes opened and they were filled with a familiar pain. The same pain you saw in your parents’ eyes when they talked about family members who died before you were born.

“He was a boxer. They called him Battlin’ Jack Murdock. Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of him. He wasn’t famous. Never hit the big time. Just a local fighter but he was one hell of a fighter.

“We never had a lot of money. Unless you get to be a big name, boxing doesn’t pay all that much. My dad made ends meet doing low-skill construction work or other temp jobs that didn’t require any education. I never went hungry but I know that he did a few times to make sure that I didn’t.”

There was fierce, defensive edge to his voice. Almost like he was daring you to say that his dad was a bad father.

“But after my accident . . . things got harder. We didn’t have any health insurance and I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Then I needed specialized training to learn how to orient myself and read braille along with things like my cane. We got a lot of it of what I needed for free or a charity paid for it.

“But my dad hadn’t worked while I was in the hospital. Since the chemicals that had blinded me were radioactive, the doctors were afraid I was going to get radiation sickness. That is a slow, painful way to die and my dad didn’t want me to be alone if I started getting sick like that.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You slide down the couch until you were right next to him. Tentatively, unsure of how it would be received, you reached and placed your hand on his shoulder. The muscle was taut with tension. But he didn’t jerk away from your touch. Gently, you squeezed his shoulder before sliding your hand across back until you arm was draped across his shoulders. A very light hug that he could easily shrug off if it was unwelcome.

Apparently it wasn’t unwelcome. He leaned into you, resting his head on your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. You took the opportunity to wrap your arms around him and give him an actual hug.

After a few minutes of silence, he continued, “Even after I was released, he still wasn’t working as many hours as he was before. It was suggested that we sue the company that owned the chemicals and my dad did find a lawyer willing to take the case pro bono. But as I’m sure you’re aware, those kind of suits can take years to settle, let alone make it to court.”

You nodded.

“In the meantime, the bills were very tight. We were behind on rent. So when a man offered to pay my dad to start throwing his matches, he took the money. Boxing is a young man’s sport so when my dad started losing, people just thought he was getting old.”

Matt took a deep but shaky breath. His hands were clenched so tightly that the skin over his knuckles was white and the veins were in high relief. When he spoke again, his voice was tight with pain and anger.

“Then one day, he didn’t throw the match like he was supposed to. That man had his men beat my father. Then that bastard killed him. Shot him in the head and left him in the alley like he was trash. I heard the whole thing. I had just turned ten.”

Your heart broke for him. You wanted to say something but again, there was nothing you could say. There were no words you could speak or actions you could take that would make everything all better. All you could do was hold him and hoped it helped him hurt less.

You didn’t know how long you sat there on the couch with him in your arms, hands carding through his hair. You didn’t care. As long as he needed the comfort, he was welcome to it. Eventually the tension drained out of his body.

When you started hearing soft snores, you realized that he had fallen asleep. Unwilling to wake him up if you could help it, you slowly and carefully maneuvered the both of them until you were laying down with him mostly on top of you. It would probably feel embarrassed about it in morning. But that was a problem for Future You. Present You was tired and wanted to sleep.

So you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Ending Note Hope no one minds me making Reader a fan of The Princess Bride.

Reader and Matt will talk more in Part 11, currently titled "The Morning."

[keikeu]

drowning love :: nishimura riki

pairing :: nonidol! nishimura riki x fem! oc

genre :: slice of life, fluff, friends (kinda) to lovers

warnings :: kissing

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the village of wakayama was quiet. it wasn't something new, the countryside always seemed dead, and even the people that lived there mostly stayed inside and minded their business. tourists rarely visited the area at that time of the year, the weather was usually filled with rain and storms so the view wasn't as enjoyable.

today though, it was just windy and gloomy. the sun barely managed to make its way through the fluffy grey clouds, occasionally letting rays fall on the sea and mountains. the sound of cold wind echoed in the air, filling in the absence of noise. ai walked on the road where cars were supposed to be driving, but seeing there were none she took the opportunity to walk closer to the guard rail to get a better view of the picturesque ocean.

she had finished another boring day of school, and she walked with her bag draped on her shoulder while holding her cardigan close as it was chilly. the breeze blew her hair and skirt just like it made waves crash aggressively with rocks. she admired how the nature around her moved, taking in the bushy greenery that coated the mountains, the blue sea that covered most of the ground, the sun that tried its best to shine and make the weather better, and the clouds that wouldn't let it. the house rooftops that were still covered in the rain that had drizzled in the early morning and the bugs and birds that made their way out of the trees to find food.

lost in thought and completely struck by her surroundings, ai recalled all the events that took place in school. nothing significant had happened, their math teacher had given them plenty of homework for next week, the history teacher had fixed groups for a near project they needed to work on, her friends had made jokes and conversation at lunch break, trying to include her in but she peacefully ate her food while admiring riki, a boy from her class out from the window.

riki was a 17-year-old boy, born and raised in wakayama all his life, living with his parents and sisters. he was rather aloof so ai hadn't gotten the chance to speak to him much, but she had developed a liking towards him very quickly. he was just different from the rest, different in a good way. ai had heard from the rest that riki had gotten bored of the town from a young age, and ever since 8th grade he had started going to places he wasn't allowed to go and doing things he wasn't allowed to do, getting into trouble with his peers. the girl wouldn't blame him, the people here and the discrete area the houses were built in could get very dull and monotonous.

but the reason people bad-mouthed riki was the reason she had grown to admire him. the villagers didn't like someone who broke the rules, someone who stood up for himself, someone creative, daring, and free. they didn't like riki. but ai loved his untroubled and adventurous soul. she loved that he was curious and almost unstoppable, bouncing back every time they shot him down. and she hoped to one day build as much courage as he had to confess to him.

while thinking about the boy, she didn't hear the sound of someone biking behind her. the person smiled, speeding up and reaching her. they halted in front of the girl, making her stop and stare with shock written in her eyes.

"riki? what are you doing here?" she squeezed the strap of her backpack and looked into his eyes. he held a smirk on his face, and his eyes glimmered, something ai had never noticed before. the wind blew his hair in his face, yet the girl could still make out his beautiful features, from his brown eyes to his pink lips. she gulped, feeling her cheeks heat up after keeping eye contact with him for so long, something she had rarely gotten to do.

"i saw you walking so i decided to come. let me take you home." she got to hear his voice again, and he sure was being kind for someone who appeared so distant from the rest. ai was a bit taken aback by his offer, but she didn't refuse. instead, she hopped on the back of his bike, wrapping an arm around his waist for support. she was thankful riki couldn't see her at that moment because if he could he would have seen how red ai had gotten.

he biked quickly while ai told him where she lived. he wasn't paying that much attention to what she was saying, instead just admiring her soft voice that sounded like a little bird chirping. a smile grew on his face when the girl nuzzled her face on his shoulder, probably because she felt cold. he liked ai, if it wasn't obvious already but had trouble confessing his feelings. nevertheless, that wasn't going to stop riki from trying to make her his. and currently, he wasn't taking her home. he had better plans.

"ah riki, why are you passing my house? it was that one there!" the girl exclaimed, moving to point at a beautiful traditional building that was slowly getting lost in the distance.

"actually, i want to take you somewhere." was the only thing he said, ai opened her mouth to say something but only went back to placing her chin on his shoulder. her parents might get angry that she's hanging out with the boy, but that didn't matter to her because it was all she wanted to do.

soon they reached a forest. ai hopped from the bike and so did riki, letting it fall on the ground with his bag. he walked over to the entrance where a chain that held an old warning sign reading "strictly no entry" was tied to two trees, crossing it he looked over his shoulder at the girl who was putting her bag down and slowly walking over to him.

"i don't think we're allowed here," she said, looking at the tall trees and the dark bushes ahead of them. the rusty chain caused a  separation between the two. riki held out a hand for her and ai took it, carefully walking over to the other side.

"i've been here before, i discovered the place a few days ago. hold my hand and i promise you'll be safe." butterflies erupted in her stomach and her heart was beating faster than the speed of light. she felt she was going to melt at any given moment, but a slight squeeze of her hand by the boy caused her to snap back to reality and walk with him.

the wind seemed to have calmed down, now the only sounds that filled their ears were twigs and leaves cracking under their feet and animals like squirrels and rabbits. riki made sure to hold the girl tight and close to him while helping her walk so she wouldn't get hurt anywhere. ai liked the contact they were sharing and the care riki was showing. she hadn't expected the boy to be so sweet.

without even realizing it, they had made it out of the forest, appearing at a low yet still dangerous cliff. the view was amazing. the sea looked one with the sky, and the sun shining was more visible. the dark clouds almost disappeared and the wind had stopped. ai closed her eyes, breathing in the salty air, and when she opened them again she noticed riki staring at her with a soft caring look.

"do you want to get closer to the sea?" the girl nodded and followed the boy who appeared to know the place so well even though he said he'd only discovered it a few days before. they cautiously walked on rocks, riki occasionally taking glances to make sure the girl was okay. she almost ended up falling, if it wasn't for riki whose reflexes were sharp and quickly caught her.

"be careful next time," he said, still holding her waist even though she was on her two feet, her shoes touching the mushy sand. waves crashed, already wetting her legs and skirt.

"let's go in!" the boy suddenly exclaimed, pulling her closer to the shore. without a second thought, he walked into the water, and ai joined him.

"riki it's cold!" the girl said, her teeth chattering when the water made contact with her skin. the boy only chuckled at her whining while submerging his body even more.

he fully turned to her, grabbing both her hands and pulling her to the water with him. when their feet couldn't touch the ground anymore and their bodies were floating, riki cupped her face and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. feeling his soft lips touch hers, ai felt like she could fly. her cheeks flushed and she was glad that riki was blushing too because it felt less embarrassing. she quickly put her hands at the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

it felt like fireworks exploding all around them every time their lips touched, it was so magical, so perfect. for once, ai was thankful she had moved to wakayama because she got to meet riki, admire him, fall for him and finally be together with him. and riki was glad he had seen ai too. she was the only person keeping him going, keeping him from running away from the lonely town.

after swimming for a little longer, throwing water at each other, and kissing in the blue sea, they walked through the thick forest again, hand and hand and riki biked back home with ai bolding his waist tightly while letting the breeze blow the wet hair out of her face.

"i love you riki!" the girl shouted, closing her eyes and grinning happily after. riki chuckled, speeding up before also shouting, "i love you ai!"

they arrived at ai's house faster than they would have liked, riki hid behind a tree so her parents wouldn't see him if they decided to suddenly come out or if they were waiting for her at a window. after all, a few hours had passed, and ai should have been home by three, but it was seven.

"my parents are going to kill me." she worriedly said while grabbing her school bag. riki placed a small peck on her forehead before reassuring her everything was going to be okay and helping her make a believable enough excuse.

"if you end up getting grounded, i'll help you secretly escape." the girl let out a dry laugh, pulling him into a hug and walking home. riki only left after she had gone inside.

today was the best day of his life. he was finally going to be with his crush. he didn't care that his parents were scolding him, the only thing on his mind was the moment he got to share with ai. and she was also not paying much attention to her parents lecturing her, reminiscing on the kiss, the sea, and the forest.

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a/n :: i was going to sleep one day but this idea popped in my head and i knew i HAD to write it,, inspired by the japanese movie "drowning love" (check for warnings before watching it if you plan on doing so) i felt very inspired to write this, so it's a bit longer than my other one shots but i still hope you guys enjoy it! (ps. i love riki😍💗)

©keikeu

[ruinedsam]

Wait, I just thought of something. Abbadon decides that if Sam won’t take the throne, she will because Crowley is awful for her. But, she has been talking to Sam while trying to get him to take an interest in being King of Hell and finally says, “well, if you won’t do it, I will.” Sam just wants to finish his lunch in peace and agrees more out of the hope this will make people stop asking him to take the throne than anything else. Abbadon asks if he’ll support her, because Sam Winchester’s approval actually carries a lot of weight in part due to the fact that the throne might technically be his via Azazel and Lucifer and also everyone is lowkey terrified of him due to him being both a good hunter and that time period when he could snack on one of them and murder the others around with his mind, and Sam agrees because he just wants someone competent in charge as issues with the ruler always spill out to the rest of the world and he thinks Crowley won’t be able to make the demons truly accept him. But Dean is out there supporting Crowley, so it’s Winchester vs Winchester. I’m not sure how the Trials and the aftermath fit here, but if we assume Gadreel still occurred, he’s kicked out way earlier and I want it to be because Abbadon told Sam he had an angel as a passenger and that’s the last thing she expected from him after the stories she’s heard and her own observations: Sam freezes and she realizes he didn’t know. So things progress like they did in canon regarding the Gadreel aftermath, but this means that the Crowley/Dean vs Abbadon/Sam situation is all happening when things are already pretty raw between Sam and Dean. The fights between Sam and Dean over their respective support are brutal; Dean still takes on the Mark of Cain here, only there’s a real concern throughout this that Dean is going to relieve the Cain-Abel story. Sam has to leave for his own safety, and Abbadon (or Meg) eventually finds out and insists he stays with them. Sam more or less goes “whatever” and it’s cheaper than staying in a hotel and he really can’t stand seeing Dean right now—and if they wanted to kill him, they’ve had plenty of opportunities so far—so Sam is now living with at least one demon. Dean sneers at him about this, about how he’s picked a demon over his brother before and Dean should’ve seen this and making at least one crude comment about Sam’s addiction and if he’s sleeping with and drinking from this demon the way he was with Ruby, which Sam denies. Dean is about to make what is no doubt a derogatory comment, and Abbadon cuts him off by airily saying that Sam is actually safer with her than he is with his own brother. Throughout all of this, it is just a repeat of that constant issue that Sam first sensed as a kid but only found the real cause for after Cold Oak: he is Azazel’s son in the eyes of the demons, and apparently in Dean’s eyes as well. I’m not sure how the fallout goes, but I desperately want there to be more about Sam’s demon blood and I think we could’ve had a fun example of it during the Abbadon-Crowley arc

I only watched season 9 one time because it made me so mad so I don't really remember why/how/to what extent Dean teamed up with Crowley, but hell's internal politics really aren't his business and I don't see why anyone would care about his opinions lol he's just some dude. I really want Abbadon or maybe Meg tell him that in the most patronizing way possible, adding that Sam's the important one.

Anyway I really love this because Sam needs people who haven't been sanctioned by Dean in his corner and the fact that they're all demons is something that would torment Sam (which I find very enjoyable because I'm a sicko).