#it really should not have taken me that long

[priniya]

𝜗𝜚 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝜗𝜚

⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

⋆ summary. falling in love has never been on your radar, but when the cute, quiet guy finds his place in your heart, you try to cherish the rare, yet beautifully domestic moments. that is, until you hit the four years together mark and realise that your family probably doesn’t know.

GROWING UP YOU WERE CONVINCED BY THE circumstances that being loved must be earned. you had never put any thought into that — it was just the things were, at least that’s how you were brought up. if you did something your parents didn’t like, you were given a cold shoulder and ��� from time to time — a silent treatment. as a teenager, you came up with a… pretty saddening conclusion that love wasn’t worth it in the end, so you simply avoided any kind of romantic relationships.

to be completely honest, it wasn’t a hard task. all you ever wanted since you entered the awkward phase of your life, when you could make your own decisions, one of which was leaving your household as soon as it was only possible.

you had departed from your home around the age of fourteen, after lots of begging to let you study abroad had taken place. you were the youngest out of the three. your brother was already in formula one, when you were wearing a plaid skirt, a merlot blazer with the school’s logo, a matching necktie and a few more things that made max and victoria call you a posh, british girl. you didn’t mind it, you were glad to be out of the house, slightly distancing yourself from your family overtime.

the day you met oscar took place on the day of your eighteenth birthday. you and some friends had gone out to celebrate not only your birthday, but also your acceptance to the king’s college in london, giving you an opportunity to pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. you were yet to tell your family about it, having lied to them about the date, wanting to have this moment to yourself.

you went out to a few bars before ending up in a club as the girls secretly wanted you to find a guy to go home with, since the last year and a half you had been constantly overworking yourself to get into your dream university, (“you got the school in the bag, now get some lad to relieve the pressure”).

oscar had been racing in formula renault at the time, but ever since you left the netherlands, racing hadn’t been on your mind for a long time — it probably should, considering your big brother was two points behind kimi räikkönen last season, however you had a feeling as if racing was the reason you were so disconnected from your family. your dad was racing in formula one, your mom was karting, your brother has been racing in formula one as well, and your sister shared the interest, while the love for partaking in the sport never appeared in your heart.

your chest was slightly pressed against the countertop, smiling at the bartender with a drunken look in your eyes, while he was preparing your umpteenth jägerbomb. jesus christ, you really needed that break. the alcohol running through your veins was really hitting you already as your body couldn’t stay still even for a second — your hips swaying to the beat. that was until you looked around the place and your eyes landed on a boy your age. he was wearing a white, printless t-shirt that clung to his body, turning your quick look-around into a staring situation.

if sober, your thoughts would stay where they should — in your mind, however… you were far from being sober. the proper social etiquette you were taught over the years at your boarding school were long forgotten as you shamelessly ogled the boy. he was simply gorgeous, breathtaking some would say.

“gals, i think i just saw an angel sent from heaven just for me.” you announced, your tone causing your friends to chuckle in amusement. you sound like a person who thought they just invented a cure for cancer. “i need to throw myself at him.”

“oh my god.” aliyah, your roommate from school, laughed, throwing her head back. it was hilariously unexpected to hear you say a thing like that — the girls have heard you talk about the boys you had hooked up with before, even intoxicated, but never this. you had never been so… so not-you. “this-this is the funniest thing, like, ever.”

“which one?” inaya scrunched her brows as she looked around, searching for a guy who could fit her imagination of a guy you would call an angel. she groaned in disappointment, once you discreetly pointed in oscar’s direction. “a white guy? seriously, yn?”

“i can’t help it.” you muttered, your shoulders slumping as the alcohol intensified every single emotion you have felt during the night. “i wish he would have my baby. or like a thousand of them.” your sighed, dropping your hand to your stomach, while one of the girls bursted out laughing at the absurdity of your words.

inaya could easily recall the day before your acceptance letter came in and your speech to the group chat about romantic attraction, relationships, kids, and commitment, concluded with confidence (“i’m gonna be that one, successful aunt that hates kids, but not that one niece.”).

“they would look cute together, though.” priya giggled, stealing glances at your boy, as if she wanted to hit on him, too. then, the thought of priya with your boy disappeared from your mind at the image of your best friend and her long-time boyfriend. right, she and james had been together for the longest time. “you should shoot your–” the universe was not having the girl speak, because a guy, seemingly confident, approached your table.

“hey, i hope you’re having a good evening.” he started in a nice tone, the girl beside you — the last of the four, ciara, seemed to melt against your shoulder, looking at the boy with heart eyes. “sorry to bother you, girls. my friend, that one over there, thinks you’re really gorgeous and would love to get your number, but he’s a bit shy.” he joked, having pointed to oscar, turning the second part of his monologue to you.

before any of you could’ve responded to him, a guy — the same one you called an angel — walked up to the six of you, groaning when he realised that his friend already had done what he threatened to do. “jesus, arthur.” the blonde ran a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.

“i’m so sorry for him.” he let out a small sigh. “i told him not to bother you, but he’s like a toddler.” he tried to explain, earning a few quiet chuckles from all of you.

“ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” priya grinned. “you two look like you haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet, maybe wanna join us?”

oscar wanted to refuse, out of courtesy — he didn’t really care about the embarrassment brought upon him by the monegasque, although the look on your face was making his heartbeat quicken. he’d never felt like this before, it was crazy. he just saw you for the first time and his mind was filled to the brim with small ideas to impress you that were supposed to be shoved away as he opened his mouth to politely refuse the invitation. arthur, however, had different plans and sat next to the ginger haired girl, who quickly engulfed him in a conversation.

looking at him so up close was almost a life-altering experience. for the first fifteen minutes you had to remind yourself to breathe, so enamoured with the boy sitting next to you. after that period, you got even more entranced with oscar. once he started his small conversation with you, you couldn’t help but hang onto every single word that left his lips.

you’ve never felt like this before, so interested in what a boy had to say to you. you forgot about the detail that, if it wasn’t a joke, oscar thought you were gorgeous and loved to have your number. the conversation with him was easy, you didn’t have to do anything special to prolong it, neither did he. by the time the watch on your phone was showing three in the morning, james had already picked priya, inaya and aliyah up, leaving you and ciara with the two boys. you went out to a club to have fun, drink, and dance a bit, but it all was thrown into oblivion once piastri started a conversation with you.

YOU COULD EASILY RECALL THE MOMENT YOU realised that life without oscar wasn’t what you’d ever want. it happened after a few weeks of constant texting, late-night calls and a bit less meetings at his/your place. at the tiniest thought of falling in love with him, your stomach started to hurt, because love wasn’t something you believed to have a happy ring to. your parents were divorced and they took it out on you and your siblings, sophie, your mom, wasn’t as bad as your dad, though.

oscar knew about your stance towards love, but took it upon himself to change it — and he suprisingly did. there wasn’t a thing oscar could do wrong to make you disappointed. despite the hectic schedule he had, you always spent at least ten minutes on the phone to just check in, which was the best part of your day most of the time.

medicine at king’s was killing you every day to the point, where once oscar was able to visit you, he had always made you something to eat, drew a bath for the two of you and took a nap with you. he never complained. for as long as he remembered, most of his days were fast paced — there were little to no slower moments in his life, so despite your insecurities that he must’ve hated you for being too exhausted to spend time with him, he liked just feeling your presence next to him.

your friends, despite the constant teasing, couldn’t be happier for you. you often denied yourself stuff that you probably should experience in life, as a result of growing up in a household where love was conditional. they knew that, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you crumble under pressure, before inevitably breaking down in front of them, so seeing you blossoming like that was not only refreshing, but also relieving.

you were starting your fourth year at the university, while oscar was in the middle of his first season of formula one. before the australian, you weren’t a fan, yet you couldn’t help but bawl your eyes out in pride and happiness, when oscar called you to tell you that he had signed with mclaren.

you had already known about the signing, when oscar came to your shared apartment later, so despite an upcoming test, you spent most of your free afternoon baking him a small cake to show him that his dreams are as important to you as they are to him. you definitely weren’t a great baker, but you tried your best and made a small, lemon flavoured cake with a light, orange-ish congratulations, formula one driver on top.

“baby, i’m home.” your boyfriend called out, entering the apartment as he was taking off his shoes, placing them on a shoe stand. you smiled to yourself at the sound of his voice, head turning to look at him. his hair disheveled, a stubble on his chin, and a slight hint of tiredness in his eyes that seemed to disappear once his gaze fell onto you.

“hey.” you replied as oscar approached you, sneaking his arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i made you something.” you whispered, tilting your chin to have a better view of his face.

“yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “what did you make?”

“i baked a cake.” you nodded, almost as if it was something you did every other day. “because my boyfriend is officially a formula one driver. i’m super proud of you, you know? and it’s mclaren, too!” you added, a beam creeping up on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pressed lots and lots of light kisses against his entire face.

a chuckle rumbled in his throat at your silly display of affection, pulling you closer with ease. “i still can’t believe it.” he smiled in between the smooches. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” his voice dropped to a whisper laced with sincerity.

“ah, this is simply bullshit.” you responded, scrunching your nose. “you’re a great driver, baby. you would’ve done it anyway.” you matched the quietness of his tone, bringing your hand to run your fingers through his messy blond hair. “everyone knows that, especially zak and andreas.”

“you did help, though.” he muttered, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “you keep me sane.” his words earned him a quiet giggle from you. you tilted your head to the side, shaking it lightly, pulling him into a kiss.

it started off slowly and gently, now both of oscar’s arms wrapped around your waist, caging you into his loving embrace. before you knew it, his hands were squeezing your sides, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his body pressing against yours as your lips moved in sync. the pent up stress, pressure and exhaustion slowly dissolving, oscar’s stiff shoulders loosening as your fingers tugged on a strand of his hair.

his tongue has moved past your lips, when you heard a sound, making the two of you pull away from each other in reluctance. oscar’s mom often texted him, when you were either making out on the couch or having sex, almost as if she had a hunch about what the two of you were doing. as a result, you came up with a system that whose phone would go off and interrupt you, the person would have to do something in return for the other one. despite the annoyance of being interrupted, you beamed, knowing that it couldn’t be your phone. that was, until you noticed the smirk creeping up on your boyfriend’s face.

“not mine.”

a loud groan rumbled in your throat, unhappy with the result as oscar passed you your phone from the table. you let out a dutch curse word under your breath, noticing the contact’s name on the notification.

max.

you haven’t spoken to your brother since the end of that year’s season, when you called to congratulate him on his second title. making so much distance between you and your family ever since you were fourteen and in a boarding school was hunting you now. no one from your family knew about your relationship with oscar, despite being together since mid-july 2019. you didn’t want to change it, not because you were ashamed of oscar — that, you could never be — but because you were afraid it would ruin everything between the two of you, and deep down inside you, you knew that your heart would shatter into pieces if that ever happened.

oscar understood where you were coming from, he knew how much of an outcast you considered yourself to be as a kid, and how much work you put into getting away from the town you grew up in. he didn’t mind that he didn’t officially met your blood family, he knew that the friends you went to school with were closer to you and at that time of your life mattered more, so he couldn’t complain, knowing that this family accepted and liked him. your mood significantly dropped, oscar’s hand gently squeezing your thigh for some reassurance, nodding silently, a way of saying that you should call your brother back.

some people would say that your boyfriend was the reason behind the poor connection between you and your siblings, but he was actually the one, who often — subconsciously — made you reply to their texts and calls more, or even calling them yourselves to just check in as you often sent gifts to your two nephews and penelope. although you thought that it was too late to repair the relationship with max and victoria, oscar always told you that it’s nonsense (and he was, indeed, right).

“hey, sorry, i was studying. a cardiology exam coming up soon.” you explained as your brother picked up the call, your voice slightly sheepish as you avoided your boyfriend’s look.

“in december?” max asked. “i was calling to ask if you’re coming back for christmas?”

you sighed softly at the question, knowing that your reaction would probably upset your brother, which you didn’t want to happen.

“uh.” you started. “i–i’m not sure, yet.” an incoherent mumble came from the other side of the line, as you started to pick on the skin of your bottom lip. “i think i am, but not for too long. i have an early flight on the twenty seventh.”

you could see the smile rising on oscar’s lips upon your answer, you were conflicted whether or not you should go back. you missed your brother, sister and mom, but coming home always resulted in your sour mood and not-too-great memories from each year as you always ended up fighting with your dad over something insignificant that made you come back to london sooner than planned. this time, you were supposed to lay down the boundaries and try to have a good time, before flying to melbourne to spend some time with the piastris.

“it would mean a lot to all of us to see you.” max replied in a gentle tone, not wanting to accidentally guilt trip you into coming. “we miss spending time with you, yn.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” your voice broke, sadness washing over your body as you ran a hand down your face to stop yourself from getting too upset. it’s your boyfriend’s big day, you shouldn’t be crying over your familial situation, when it was such a happy day for him.

“i miss you all too.” you whispered, piastri’s hand gently moved up and down your thigh in a soothing mood, helping you calm down a bit. despite not understanding a thing you said since the conversation was held in dutch, he could tell that you were getting upset and it worried him. “i’m gonna be there, okay?”

DESPITE YOUR MOM’S QUESTION UPON YOUR relationship status during last year’s christmas, you didn’t drop a clue whether or not you were dating someone. you felt secure in your relationship with oscar, you didn’t want to jinx it. you started therapy just a few months earlier, but the anxiety to get past this awful feeling of revealing your boyfriend to your family was too much to do yet. you definitely wouldn’t do it without him by his side, and not when your father was around.

throughout the months of 2023, your relations with your mom, max, and victoria had improved significantly, which you were grateful for. by may, victoria’s oldest son, luka, considered you to be his favorite auntie and you really, really liked that feeling.

oscar noticed that you started to come out of your protective shell and he couldn’t be prouder of you. it was around summer break, when you decided that this year, you’d break it down to your family, no more avoiding the conversation you dreaded, but before — you would spend the summer break with your boyfriend in melbourne.

oscar, as usually on his days off, was still fast asleep, when you tried to get out of his grip in the morning. his arm had almost caged you to his side, but somehow — after fifteen minutes of trying to come up with an idea to get away without waking him up, you succeeded.

nicole was already seated at the couch with two steaming cups of coffee in front of her, almost as if she was waiting for you, which you knew she was. it was slowly becoming a little tradition you had with your boyfriend’s mom, you two would sit on the couch in their living room, casually chatting about something, while a movie played on the television in the background to your chatter.

“oscar’s still asleep, love?” she asked in a soft, yet chirpy tone as she noticed you walking down the stairs. your hair was still a bit messy, but nevertheless you looked gorgeous.

“yeah.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you took a seat next to her, taking the mug into your hands. “we stayed up watching a movie last night, apparently i had missed out on the magnificence of david fincher’s filmography.” nicole giggled, shaking her head.

“ah, yes. we’ve been through that, too.” she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “so, i’ve heard from hattie that you’re planning on going to suzuka with oscar. that’s, hm… how did she call it? a hard launch, right?” you smiled softly, nodding your head at her question.

throughout your entire relationship with the oldest piastri’s kid, you have been to few races, most of them being his formula renault and three ones, when the schedule didn’t overlap with any of your exams. during his first season in formula one, you were only at silverstone, but as a guest of max, making your first appearance in paddock since you were a baby. this time, you’d be there not as max verstappen’s younger sister, dressed in a red-bull jacket with your brother’s number on the back, but as oscar piastri’s girlfriend.

“that’s true, i’m really excited.” nicole’s warm smile upon hearing your response made you feel even more sure that you were making a good decision. “it’s gonna be my last year at king’s, and i really hope i’ll be able to come to more races to support him. i don’t want oscar to feel like i don’t care about his dreams or achievements.”

“i’m sure he doesn’t feel like that, love.” she reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand with a slight nod. “you still haven’t told your family, have you?” nicole asked, her head tilted to the side in curiosity and empathy.

she was aware of your bumpy relationship with your family, so it wasn’t a surprise she’d asked that. you feared that oscar’s relatives would think you didn’t take him seriously, and even if they did, they never showed it.

“i want to.” you spoke quietly, having taken a sip of the drink in your hands. “it’s been going on for too long and i’m fully aware of that. i can’t see myself without your son, he’s… he’s probably the, uh, the best thing that ever happened to me.” the genuineness of your words was painfully evident. “i just want them to see that, i wouldn’t be the person i am without him. i’m also just… a bit scared of their reaction. i don’t want to hurt them.”

“i’m gonna be frank with you, love. i think they will be slightly hurt that you haven’t told them about oscar earlier.” nicole started, giving you a look full of compassion. “but you did say that they weren’t insisting on staying in touch with you as much as they do now, your relationship hasn’t been as good as it is right now, so after the initial shock, i think they’re gonna understand why you haven’t told them earlier.”

“thank you for saying that, nicole.” you replied softly, smiling at her with gratitude. “it gives me a bit of hope that things won’t go so bad.”

oscar got down an hour or so later, looking like he had just woken up, what was probably the truth. you’ve had a hunch that he would’ve woken soon, so you started preparing something for him to eat before he had to head out for his usual jog (which he skipped yesterday). his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

you giggled at the sensation of his light stubble against your skin, when he pressed a few lazy kisses along your neck. “g’morning, baby.” he muttered, his voice still having that rought, just-woken-up ring to it. his slightly cold hands moved beneath your shirt, gently caressing your stomach, causing you to shiver at the contact. “what d’you gossip about with mom today?” he asked, continuing with his antics.

“ah, just stuff, love.” you replied, nicole’s petnames rubbing off on you. “edie with a friend will stay at ours before the summer break ends.” you mentioned his younger sister’s plan to come see london and all you got in a response was a soft hum.

“cool, cool.” oscar mumbled a few seconds later, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, making you bit back a moan. the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk at your reaction.

“ah, fuck off, lad.” a giggle escaped your lips as you turned to face him, having finished preparing some scrambled eggs for the two of you. “go eat, i promised max i’d call him.” after oscar stole a sweet and slow kiss from you, he sat down at the table, shamelessly watching you as you called your brother.

he knew that the situation was better, but he wanted to notice the tiny changes in your expression to comfort you within seconds. he probably wouldn’t understand too much of what you’d say, but before the season started, he’s began thinking about putting a ring on your finger one day, and proposing in dutch sounded like a good idea, so… he started learning on his own, just to be able to surprise you, but also show your family that he cared about the possible language barrier.

“hey, penelope.” you smiled as the four years old girl greeted you after picking up max’s phone. “could you please give me max?” from what you’ve known, max and kelly went to see her family in brazil, so hearing that p wasn’t asleep, wasn’t a surprise.

you could’ve heared ruffling on the other side of the call, before your brother’s voice rang in your ears. “sorry, i was outside.” he apologised. “p said you wanted to talk, everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s alright.” you smiled at the hint of concern in his voice. “just wanted to ask when you’re flying back to monaco.” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“ah, around next week, i think. not sure though, why?”

“just… uh,” you looked over at oscar and smiled to yourself. “i just wanted you to meet someone. think you could make a quick stop in london before monaco?”

you could’ve heard max stiffle a small gasp and it made you want to laugh. they thought you’d never find someone, didn’t they? after looking at your nails, you turned your gaze to oscar, whose eyes were still watching you carefully. it was so endearing to see your boyfriend like that, so protective over you. you knew you made a good choice of not pushing him away, oscar must be your soulmate, there’s no other way. you sent him a small wink as you awaited max’s reply.

“someone?” he repeated the word. “as in friend? a boyfriend? god, i never thought i’d live to that day. he’s not fifty or something, right?” this time, you couldn’t hold back the laugh. piastri smiled at the reaction, actually relieved that you weren’t getting upset. he’s never seen you talk to jos, but he knew if that happened on his watch, the entire evening, day or week would be spend on comforting the shit out of you.

“what? no, jesus, you’re quite ridiculous.” you shook your head, a smile still present on your lips. “he’s my age, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes playfully, despite max couldn’t see you.

“but he’s good for you?” max asked for reassurance that you weren’t getting into a relationship, which would end up hurting you more than anything else. “he doesn’t hurt you, or anything? and you’re sure he’s your age? that doesn’t go well with your daddy issues.”

“i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t hear that last bit.” you joked, sitting down at the table next to oscar, taking his hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. “he’s super good for me. wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

the reasoning behind telling max before the summer break would end was simple, you didn’t want the information to mess with his performance, but also so he wouldn’t try and run your boyfriend off the track, or crash into him in a rush of emotions.

“alright, tell him to better treat my sister right or i’ll run him over with my car.”

OSCAR WAS TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN AS YOU paced around your shared apartment, a few days after the conversation you had with your brother. your brother, who was on his way from the heathrow airport to your home.

“baby, it’s gon’ be alright.” he whispered, leaning close to your ear as he cupped your face in his hands, having brushing his nose against yours a few times affectionately. “max won’t sacrifice his relationship with you, solely because you haven’t told him about us. he’s gonna have to understand, alright? don’t stress out.” his thumb moved against the skin of your cheeks, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“you think so?” you asked, meeting his gaze as a small pout appeared on your lips.

“i know so, baby.” he soothed, trying to put your mind at ease, remembering how much hassle the situation had put on your shoulders, having heard you empty your stomach in the morning, when your phone went off once max had texted you that they have just arrived in london.

fourty minutes later, oscar was calling the security guard to let max, kelly, and penelope inside the building. the australian went back to the living room as you had planned beforehand, when you agreed on inviting them to your apartment.

“auntie yn!” penelope smiled, throwing herself at you. you swiftly picked her up, masking the shakiness of your hands. “maxie said you have a boyfrieeeend.” she singsonged with a beam on her face. you could swear to god that in that moment you’d heard the faint sound of oscar’s laughter.

“max.” you gave your brother a look, while he just shrugged unbashedly. “what? it’s true isn’t it? where is that brit of yours?”

“he’s not british.” this time, max gave you a look that said he was confused, while you just shrugged, waving your hand at the three of them, before leading them to the living room. penelope noticed oscar first and murmured to you that he looked really pretty, a warm sensation spreading in your stomach, when the pretty boy smiled at you. the oldest verstappen might get angry or feel hurt, but at the end of the day, no one could do anything to break the two of you apart. you’d chain yourself to the aussie if it was necessary.

“wha— oscar?” max’s mouth fell agape as he took in the sight of your boyfriend, who gave him a tiny, sheepish smile. “hold on a second, what?” he repeated, puting a strong emphasis on the last word.

you weren’t sure if it was inappropriate for you to scoot a bit closer to your boyfriend, leaning against his side as your older brother tried to stomach the fact that the reason behind your often trips to australia was his on-track rival.

“but you were with kelly at the silverstone, not leaving her side at all?” his confusion was messing with your anxiety and you had to do your best to stiffle the laugh bubbling up in your throat.

“yeah, um… we didn’t met at silverstone.” it was oscar’s time to speak up as the bits of contact between you made him more relaxed. “we… have been already dating back then.” piastri explained calmly, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you even closer.

“so that’s why you cried!” kelly smiled at you as your cheeks flushed bright red.

silverstone was oscar’s best finish in formula one so far and seeing him end up almost on podium had melted your heart as you broke down in the red-bull garage. when kelly asked you what made you so emotional, you slipped a small lie, saying that it was because max earned another grand slam.

“you cried?” oscar asked quietly, his heart swelled with love.

“she had a full on mental breakdown.” piquet joked, your cheeks had turned its color from bright red to crimson. it was nothing to be embarrassed about, you loved your boyfriend with all your heart, you couldn’t help but be proud of him for almost every day since you got together. although, he wasn’t supposed to know about your little breakdown.

“i didn’t know about that.” oscar teased you a little, gently pinching your side.

“wait, because i still don’t understand. you were already dating at silverstone, when did you-did you start, then?” the red bull, who — rightfully — couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that what you were doing right now, wasn’t a silly prank or tiktok of some sort, and you and oscar were actually together.

you opened your mouth to tell him the range of your anniversary, when oscar, like he was aked about it every other day, responded with; “eleventh of july, 2019.”

“fucking four years?” max asked, his eyes widening at the revelation. “four years and you didn’t tell?”

“i was scared that telling one of you would lead to telling dad, and i didn’t want him to say something that would ruin what we have.” your voice dropped insignificantly, oscar’s arm around your body tightening in compassion. “he’s been my rock, i didn’t want to risk losing oscar.”

your brother’s face softened upon hearing the explanation and just smiled. “i’m not taking what i said back. you better treat her right, or i’ll run you over with my car — on or off track.”

ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yourname . . . at melbourne! dec 28th, 2026

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, inaya66 and 67 218 others.

yourname met this muppet in a bar after years of not believing in love (definitely not at the first sight), overworking myself and worrying all my friends that if i get into my dream university, i’ll have no energy to push forward. took me one glimpse of him (and a jägerbomb) to realise that i need to walk up and talk to him. big thanks to arthur_leclerc for walking up to us and trying to embarrass him.

no one could ever make me as happy as you. not enough words, papers and ink to describe even the quarter of love i have for you, two times world champion. seven years and more to come. thank you for showing me that love can be unconditional and that with you next to me, everything is possible.

(ps. a small sneak peak of one significant bean with us to come through life together xx)

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oscarpiastri happiest seven years of my life. nothing compares to the feeling when i’m with you xx

yourname stop cutting the onions (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

inaya66 couldn’t be happier for the two of you ☹️

ciarrrra thats a lot coming from u considering u didnt like oscar

aliyahbilal i wanna be you when i grow up

arthur_leclerc safe to say i’m gonna be the best man?? 😝

oscarpiastri don’t push it

arthur_leclerc i made you two possible

ciarrrra baby… she was on her way to him when u walked up to us…

oscarpiastri so WE kind of made u 2 possible :p

maxverstappen1 stop posting sappy stuff, and get here already bean misses her favorite uncle xx

landonorris yeah n you’re not the one

charles_leclerc boys… i have a dog u really think u stand a chance

yourname that’s really sweet that u think u ever stood a chance with alex, jack, and james…

maxverstappen1 over her own blood??

yourname stop shaming my daughter for her choices old guy

sebastianvettel lots of love and happiness to your little family

ciarrrra sign me up for babysitter duty pleaseeee i miss my beanie ☹️

aliyahbilal nooo me me me need to catch up on those nursery gossips with my bestie!!!

victoriaverstappen can’t wait to see you guys 🫶🫶 hailey misses her bestie

mclaren we are always told things last ☹️☹️☹️

yourname you know it’s not true admin why do you lie 🙁🙁

hattiepiastri best soon to be sil 🥳🥳🥳

yourname whats with you piastris and making me cry today!!!

nicolepiastri love you both lots xx

jackdoohan i’m the favorite?? need to come over with gifts asap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

fin.

author’s notes! super hyped to post this fic 🥹 it’s honestly my baby that i’ve been working on and thinking about it 24/7 (even when i was supposed to be studying LMAO) huge shoutout to my whatsapp girlies esp catalina and sonny!!!! this is kinda not proofread so if u saw any mistakes (which definitely were there) pretend like u didnt 😝😝 part two with domestic dad!oscar and uncle!grid?? lemme know whatchu think <3 requests r open btw!!

[grison-in-space]

I remember this happening. I was fourteen and living in Georgia, and I was pretty sure I was queer and equally pretty sure that no one was ever going to leave me alone about it. There's a great song about the moment by Vienna Teng, I hope someone has linked it for OP by now.

The moments I remember are a decade later: having spent a year of graduate school tied to Texas admitting to myself that I was unhappy with the idea that my relationships were going to have to stay online only until I graduated with the PhD and could leave Texas again, because hell would freeze over before Texas did shit for us. Didn't matter I was living in Austin, one of the first cities in the nation to legalize the civil union shit back in the 90s; I was always going to be a second class citizen that way. Immigration wasn't an option.

And then, while I was working in the field in Costa Rica, Windsor came down. Suddenly immigration from Canada was an option. Suddenly we could talk about it. So we did. And we started scrambling to take advantage before it got taken away, because it probably would, but we had learned from y'all that even if it got taken away later, the having was important. Once you were legally in the country, deportation would have been harder, right?

I was one of the second wave of people with transnational relationships taking advantage of immigration in the post-DOMA world. (Defense of Marriage Act, children: ol' Bill Clinton signed that into law in 1996, so that we filthy queers couldn't ever touch the protections afforded by a federally recognized marriage.) It was a hell of a ride. We had to travel to Boston to get married because T thought an American certificate would carry more weight with immigration than a Canadian one. We couldn't actually afford to live together without both of us working, so we had to decide whether it was worth trying on the strength of one delighted October week long visit, get married and then put our petition through. We stayed on my friend @queenieofaces 's floor for the week of my spring break in 2014 and she married us to save money, which was not exactly something we had a lot of at the time or since. Then we both went home to our own countries for a year while we assembled the legal packets, petitioned the federal government, and started trying to navigate the immigration system.

Almost everyone I met outside our families was excited for me, sometimes to an extent that felt ridiculous. We were getting married because it was a shot at getting to live together, but we were both acutely aware of the possibility of failure, of just how much we were sacrificing for a shot at a relationship. The kinds of decade long affairs where marriage was just the legal affirmation of the households that already existed were inspirational, but not us: we were taking a risk and leaping for one another, but it was a leap, not an embrace quite yet. We talked earnestly about pre nuptial agreements before discovering, slightly shame-faced, that those are really designed for people with assets greater than a single subcompact hatchback and a laptop. computer.

(A decade later, and we've nevder had the stability to put through T's citizenship paperwork. That's changing now, slowly.)

My apartment had burned down that summer of 2013, and my car got totaled that winter, and I had to deal with a lot of insurance paperwork. Sometimes the paperwork required additional in person signatures for spouses and I would have to ask: "ah, uh: what law requires the paperwork?" See, I spent a year and change married for the purpose of federal law, single for the purposes of state law, and married again for purposes of municipal law. No one ever writes down what law they use to generate a policy, but no one wanted to mail documents to Toronto and back for signatures, either. So no one was quite sure what I should do on the paperwork.

It was chaos. T spent the entire entrance interview trying to convince the confused man at the consulate that it was actually fine to immigrate to Texas on a Massachusetts wedding license even though Texas would not recognize the marriage. We got approved and moved and I went to put T on my insurance. Then I discovered that Texas outright banned any of its state employees (|ike me!) from extending benefits to partners unless their marriage was recognized by the state of Texas. I had about a week to start panicking about that and then Obergefell hit the ground.

We just left work and went down to the Capitol and everyone was cheering and hugging each other and crying. All the bars and the liberal churches were open. We listened to speeches and stories and went dancing. It was beautiful.

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

— Would people say it’s foolish to chase a promise that won’t come true?

Poorly Dressed Man: Jude Jazza! It’s all - it’s all your fault!

Jude: I ain’t the one who broke the contract.

Jude: If ya wanna file a lawsuit yer sure to lose, ‘n starve to death, then be my guest.

Poorly Dressed Man: You demon! Die!

Jude: Ellis.

Ellis: Yep.

Poorly Dressed Man: Gah!

— Would people call following a twisted sense of justice evil?

Jude: …Ha. The full moon’s annoyin’.

The person with amethyst eyes listlessly lit a cigarette.

The white smoke that rose in the pitch black darkness turned the glittering moon grey.

Ellis: Jude, it’s done.

Jude: Fine. Then let’s get outta here ‘fore things get messy.

A week has passed since I’ve become fairytale keeper.

Guests from Germany called Vogel have arrived, and I’ve been accompanying the others on dangerous missions,

In these hectic days, there are many things that bother me.

However, the thing that bothers me the most is —

Kate: Jude, please take me with you on the mission today!

Jude: Ha. Make an appointment. Business hours are over, so scram.

He looked very unhappy while he glared at me disdainfully.

(But…I can’t back down here.)

Kate: For the past week, I’ve accompanied everyone on missions as fairytale keeper.

Kate: Only you and Ellis are the ones left.

Jude: Don’t care ‘bout yer problems.

Kate: Ughh….

Ellis: Is it okay if I go with Kate?

Ellis kindly soothed my heart that was gouged out by Jude.

However -

Jude: Y'shuddup.

(Haaa, it’s hopeless. What should I do….)

(If I can’t do it by asking directly, then I can follow them without permission, or ask for help…)

The moment I was lost in thought —

Victor: Today, I see Jude is walking about as the human form of cruelty and ruthlessness as well.

The “help” I wished for arrived with beautiful long hair, and in a cheerful mood.

Victor: Don’t be so cold, and take care of Kate.

Victor: The fairytale keeper is an honorable position that Her Majesty recognizes.

Jude: I don’t understand what yer sayin’, ‘n I don’t like it.

Jude: What’s that woman thinkin’, lettin’ ya abuse her power ‘n capture a commoner.

(…..Commoner.)

Jude: Tch….revoltin’.

Jude: Let’s go, Ellis.

Ellis: Sorry, Kate. See you later.

Kate: Yeah….

I gave a small wave to Ellis who looked back with concern as he left.

(I’ve had quite a few bad experiences in my life.)

But this was the first time I’ve been met with such intense hatred for no reason.

To be honest…it’s not a good feeling.

He’s really a “jerk” with a rotten attitude —that was my first impression of him.

But I soon realized as I lived at Crown Castle, that he was like that with everyone.

[Shows different scenes of Jude's attitude.]

Jude: All Crown members on a urgent mission ordered by that Queenie?

Jude: Don’t need my help. Do whatever ya want.

Jude: Get together with Vogel? Ain’t nothin’ in it for me.

Jude: I ain’t goin’ to that thing.

Jude: Fairytale keeper? Thought ya scampered back home already. Dunno though.

[Examples scenes end]

Kate: Jude Jazza’s report…..

Victor: You’ve brought the weekly report, thank you.

Victor: Jude Jazza. He is very arrogant, ruthless, and intolerable……

Just as he was speaking, I snatched the report back from him.

Kate: There’s no way I can present a report full of insults to her Majesty!

…A few days later.

Harrison: Yeah, I got it from Victor.

In the note Harrison gave me —

The Pub near St. James’s Park, 10:00 p.m.

(This is!)

Harrison: Tonight Jude and Ellis are on a mission to bust a gang selling illegal drugs.

Apparently Victor couldn’t just watch things silently, and arranged for me to join the two on their mission.

Kate: Thanks for the note, Harrison.

(The pub, tonight at 10…that means)

When I looked at the clock, there was only an hour left.

Kate: I’ve got to hurry! I’m off.

Harrison: Ah, oi…..Roger’ll go with you, so meet up with him!

Harrison: ….I don’t think that guy’s going to be easy to deal with.

Just before I ran out of the room, I heard Harrison’s murmuring….Perhaps, he was predicting what would happen tonight.

When I arrived at the location precisely on time — the entire mission had been completed.

(Maybe….no, not maybe)

Roger: Hahaha, Jude took you for a ride didn’t lil’ lady?

Kate: ……

His cheerful and merciless voice, unlike Jude’s pierced my heart.

Ellis: Oh, Kate. And Roger too.

(Since Ellis returned to the pub, does that mean Jude’s returned too?)

I leaned forward a bit to see if Jude was there.

(Hm…he’s not here?)

Kate: Ellis, where’s Jude?

Ellis: Smoking probably.

I went to the back of the pub, and found Jude sitting on the stairs smoking.

Kate: …You lied and gave the wrong time.

Jude: Can ya stop makin’ false accusations?

Kate: False accusations?

Jude: Didn’t say it would “start” at 10:00 p.m. It’s yer fault for not confirmin’ ‘forehand.

[All options are +4/+4] - “Option 1: It was my mistake.”

Kate: That’s….definitely my mistake for not confirming.

I was the who assumed the time written on the note was the start time.

Jude: Hmm, so ya got ‘nough brains to honestly fess up when yer wrong. That’s great.

(What Jude is saying is probably right….But..)

Kate: Why would you intentionally do something that would make someone hate you?

Jude: Is there somethin’ to gain by bein’ liked by ya?

White smoke flows from his cruel smile.

Kate: So it’s okay to be hated by others so long as there’s no benefit for you?

Jude: Are ya a fool who wants to be liked by everyone?

Kate: But, there’s nothing wrong with being like, is there?

Jude: Sickenin’. I hate it when people say - “Let’s all be friendly.”

(No matter what I say, it’s a deadlock….)

I’ve tried to meet him halfway so many times.

But each time he’s treated me coldly, and it’s made me really angry.

— That’s why I said this.

Kate: If that’s what you say, then I’ll make you understand.

Words you should absolutely never say to him….

Jude: ….Hah?

White smoke swirls up from his cranky lips like a coiling serpent.

Jude: Whaddya gonna make me understand?

When I heard his rough voice from his thin lips, I realized that I touched a nerve.

But I can’t take back what I’ve said — So, I should just say what I feel.

I glared at Jude on the other side of the white smoke, trying not to be overwhelmed by his powerful gaze.

Kate: By the time I finish being the fairytale keeper, I will find something to like about you.

Jude: Hah?

Kate: I can’t find anything at the moment….but I don’t think it’s bad to be liked regardless if there’s gain or not.

Jude: ………..

Kate: I promise you.

When I nodded, Jude’s lips twisted into an exasperated smile.

Jude: ….Idiot. Are ya insane?

Jude: If ya find somethin’ like that, I’ll listen to any one thing ya say.

(Those words just now…! Can I take them as an agreement?)

Kate: Deal, I’m looking forward to it!

Kate: Oh, and I don’t intend to leave your side until I’ve fulfilled my promise, no matter how many times you push me away.

Jude: Ha. Fine, if ya say so, then do as ya please.

After a long battle, I finally got him to say those words.

Kate: Yep, I’ll do as I please!

I fanned away the cigarette smoke that separated us, and took a step closer to him….

Jude scoffs while letting out a thick puff of smoke.

Jude: Just remember one thing princess….My “promises” don’t come cheap.

Jude: If ya break yer promise, I’ll show ya a hell that’ll make ya think ya were better off dead.

Amidst the elegant scent of sandalwood, which was far from his image, and the sweet, burning scent of tobacco —

Jude and I made our first promise.

[Transitions to the Palace]

Darius: Jude Jazza, huh. - Hm, Nica.

“Vogel” - an organization under the direct command of the German Emperor.

It’s Director, Darius Vogel, smiled gracefully.

Nica: You want me to look into him, right. That’s fine, I’m personally interested in him.

Nica: …So I hope I can gather some interesting information on him.

The following day I was called to Victor’s office.

Victor: Jude, Ellis, and Kate, thank you for your hard work last night.

Victor: Now then, Kate I’ve heard that you’re going to be Jude’s exclusive fairytale keeper going forward?

(Huh?)

Jude: Why’a lookin’ confused, yer the one who suggested it.

(That’s….)

[Flash back begins]

Kate: By the time I finish being the fairytale keeper, I will find something to like about you.

Jude: If ya find somethin’ like that, then I’ll listen to any one thing ya say.

[Flash back ends]

(Maybe that’s it?)

Jude: A one-sided termination of the contract’s invalid. Don’t go back on yer word, people-pleaser.

Kate: I wouldn’t go back on my word, even if you didn’t tell me to.

Victor: Jude truly is an arrogant, insincere, and narrow-minded man, but he never breaks his promises.

Victor: Hence, he demands the same of others, or else they’re met with fierce retaliation.

As Victor’s cheerful voice rang out, Jude and I stopped glaring at each other.

Kate: That means….

Victor: Now that this has happened, there’s no escape for you, is there?

Jude Jazza, his curse is the 13th fairy from Sleeping Beauty.

Twelve fairies were called to the castle for a banquet of the the newborn princess.

Each of the fairies blessed the lovely princess….

— However, the 13th fairy was not invited to the castle, and it cast a curse on the princess out of resentment.

(I’m sure that’s how the tale goes…)

Kate: ….Is this person vindictive because of his curse, or simply because of his mean personality?

Victor: Hmm, that’s a mystery buried deep beneath the sea —

Jude: Don’t care if it’s some curse or not.

Ellis: Will you sign it? Or…

Jude: Signin’ with yer blood’s fine.

As if to prove his rotten personality, Jude smiled sarcastically….

Kate: I’ll sign anything!

I reflexively responded to his provocation, and ran the pen across the paper.

Within seconds of signing, Jude tucked it in his breast pocket.

Jude: Thanks. Let’s be friends from now on, eh princess?

A cruel person who delights in the misfortunes of others.

(There’s no way I’ll ever fall in love with someone like that.)

(But, if I don’t fulfill my promise, then I’m in breach of the contract….)

— I’ll end up as his prey.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 2] Dividers: @.natimiles Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

If you wish to be added or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[endereies]

PICK YOUR POISON - CS / MS

No Nut November - Day 26

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ After Chris stood you up again, you went to Matt which led to some unexpected results

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d spent tapping your feet on the cold wooded floors. You weren’t sure how many more complimentary breadsticks you could have before you had to start paying. You weren’t sure if he was even coming.

The battery on your phone had deteriorated from a full charge throughout the night, you didn’t have Chris to entertain you. It was pathetic. Your own boyfriend had left you sitting at the restaurant, with only a wine bottle as company. The skin around your nails had been long destroyed by the edge of your teeth, gnawing at him impatiently.

With the amount of stress your studies had given you, the invitation to dinner was accepted with ease. He asked you when he noticed the strain of your behaviour, your eyes squinting past the fatigue. Knowing he set the date for only a week away, you restocked on his favourite perfume of yours. That ended up being reapplied throughout the night.

A waiter, the one who had realised the problem early on, had returned to your table. “Miss? Are you alright, would you like another drink.” The place as empty enough that you didn’t have to be forced out your seat but with people staring at you from around the room, they didn’t have to.

“I’m okay, thank you. I should take my leave to be honest. I appreciate it though.” You pulled your dress down as you reached for the small purse by your feet, wrapped around your ankle. It felt awkward enough to shuffle off the chair in silence, your hand not taken by Chris’. “How much was the wine?” The click of the purse was followed by the crashing of coins in your wallet.

“On the house, after tonight, it’s the least I could do.” She tried to be sweet, she really had. It was too much which resulted in a bittersweet smile and sagged shoulders. “Thank you.”

The chill of the night wasn’t helping your dampened spirits. Goosebumps rose to your skin and not even the warmth of your palm could subside it.

“C’mon, c’mon…” The ‘brr’ tone from the phone just left you desperate. Maybe he was hurt, maybe you were mad for stupid reasons. He didn’t pick up for a while. Why did he have to make you worry?

That went away when he answered, drunk.

You weren’t listening to the multiple calls of your name; the slur told you everything. Rage was quickly replaced with pity, for yourself.

You’d lost count at how many times he had abandoned you like this. The excuses started to be realistic.

‘My work meeting ran late��

‘ I think I got food poisoning’

‘I thought I booked it for next week instead’

But this time? He chose partying instead, you could practically smell the gin on his lips. Just as you did every time.

“Y/n? you there?!” His voice reverberated in your ears, his voice echoing in your mind. You just didn’t have it in you to hide your anger.

“You forgot, fucking prick” The end dial rung in a pleasant comparison to his voice. Disappointment ran through your veins more than rage, that emotion disappeared a long time ago.

The wind picked up, blowing the ends of your hair through the wind. Lines of brick pressed against your back, out the way of strangers walking by. Several options ran through your mind simultaneously and you chose the safest one. Calling Matt. Not only would you not have to spend money on an anxious ride, but you’d get company. You had enough of being alone tonight.

“Hey? How’s the date” High hopes and promise trailed through his voice, besides the obvious mouthful of chips. When he was met with a wall of silence and a shaky breath, he understood. He always did. “Right… want to send me your location.”

“I didn’t even ask anything from you?”

“You didn’t have to, my house or yours?” For the first time in a few hours a laugh slipped past and dispersed into the air. Solemn but honest. “Yours, please.”

He quietly hummed in acknowledgement, shovelling a few chips into his mouth to finish them off so he could hurry in your direction. You pressed the ‘end call’ button for him and leant your head on the line of bricks, the air of your breath mingling into the coldness. By now you assumed you would end up in your house, or the warmth of Chris’ bed, not the concrete.

A few strangers offered you a smile as you stood there, headphones covering your ears. At least they were warm.

Suddenly the honk of a horn made you meet eyes with matt, his arm hanging out the window, calling you with his hand. “Get in! Its fucking freezing out here.”

A wide smile crossed your face at the thought of being in that warmth your fingers started to crave and when the car door shut, you weren’t disappointed.

“Hey, uh- the heating is on and… here.” He leant into the seat behind him and gave you a hot water bottle that had a cute fluffy cover. “I made that while I got ready, is that warm enough or-?”

“Ahh thanks Matt, this is perfect.” Both of your hands immediately shoved themselves directly onto it, hugging it to your chest. He chuckled at the sight and began to reverse out of the temporary parking space.

“How long were you there for?” Matt tried to express how sincere he was when asking but when trying to focus on the road during night, that grew difficult.

“Oh- like… maybe two hours? I kinda lost count. I ended up on TikTok for a while”

“Two hours?! Oh sweetheart, you should’ve called me earlier.” You shrugged, too tired to shut down his offer.

“I guess I was hoping he would show up.” He couldn’t deny the reasoning behind your words, but he also knew how much it hurt you. Only now could he see the devastation on your face, thankfully no signs of tears. Guess the tissues he packed weren’t necessary anymore, they use to be.

His house was warm too, inviting. The goosebumps had subsided by now. You took this free time as a chance to grab a wipe from your bag and get rid of the makeup that was scattered on your face. Your lipstick was long gone with the amount you bit your lips out of habit, yet the deep eyeshadow remained resolute.

You had been laying on the sofa for the same amount of time you were in the restaurant for, a random sitcom entertaining you and Matt while you talked. Your heels were sporadic on the floor along with your purse. A loose hoodie over your shoulders, it wasn’t Chris’.

The silence was quickly broken by the front door crashing open. You sobered up a little when Matt jolted beside you. The late hour pushed Chris home, stumbling. The motion lights stayed on, shadowing his face from you. You didn’t need to see him, you wanted to hear him, an apology. One that would never come.

“The fuck you mean forgot?” He stated his words loudly, reciting  your points from the phone call.

“You left me Chris, again. You promised me a date night, I waited for you. For near enough two hours!” Why didn’t he seem sorry? Now the tears begun to start. The pit in your stomach clenched harder, the breath harder to get into your lungs. It felt so expelled with disappointment.

“Sorry.” Spoken like a child that was forced to say it. He just stood there. How could he stand there like nothing happened.

“You know what Chris, I am done! Done with your stupidity, done with your lies and I’m done with your cowardness.” Rage filled your body fast. You weren’t sure what to do, but you just wanted him to know how it felt to be betrayed by someone, someone he cared about.

You took a glance at Matt who just sunk into himself as much as he could, he didn’t want to intrude. As you picked up your heels and purse from the floor, the hoodie became prominent in your mind. So did a plan. Without any hesitation, your hand gripped Matt’s jawline, pushing him towards you. You both met into a kiss, one neither of you pulled away from. He didn’t pull back until you did, he was too stunned to do anything else. Other than focus on the unexpected taste of cherries.

“What the fuck!?” Chris’ voice deterred your mind from going too far and with that you left.

The brothers were in for a long night.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

MONSTER UNDER THE BED 💦HOLLOW! ICHIGO X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 30: SLEEP PLAY

🐙 requested by: Anonymous: Day 30 f reader. Grimmjow? Hollow Ichigo? Up to you ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. adult! ichigo. hollow hybrid form, kinda "the horn of salvation" form. sleep play. rough sex. 🐙 wc: 1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist 🐙a/n: sorry about the delay! I've been studying non stop as I'm graduating in less than 3 weeks! hope you enjoy either way 💖

For the longest time Ichigo didn’t want to share a bed with you; It brought endless fights, much more than it should be allowed before ending the relationship. But, whichever was the reason why he didn’t want to sleep with you, you were still in love with him… yet, tonight, you would learn, exactly, the real reason. 

“I’m. so. tired” Ichigo grunts, dragging himself to the sofa. 

You look at him, knowing sooner or later you must leave his apartment… again, another night, sleeping on different beds. 

“Leaving now” you murmur, grabbing the keys of your car without looking at him.

“Wait…” he whispers; Ichigo might be tired, but he is still fast. His hand stops you from leaving, as it pulls from your wrist. 

You turn around and sigh; Raising an eyebrow, this time with no intentions of starting an argument. 

“Stay…” he mutters, looking down. Ichigo looks visible affected, sad, worried and most importantly, frustrated. 

You widen your eyes; are you dreaming? Is this real? Does he really want me to stay the night? In any case, you didn’t want to ask further questions… “Of course I’ll stay” 

He stutters, the way you kiss him makes him blushed, hot, needy. Both, tangled on each other’s arms, crawl towards his bed, flopping on the mattress to let your bodies enjoy each other’s. 

Maybe, Ichigo didn’t plan for him to fall asleep so fast after his body gave all of it. You, even though it was what you interpreted, fell asleep before he could have told you otherwise… 

Your back feels hot, but you still can’t wake up. It’s ok, Ichigo has warm skin.  Your neck, more than hot, even wet… are you sweating? Your hip… it feels like your skin is being… clawed? 

Dazed, too tired to even wake up, you are sure this is probably just a dream… this is probably Ichigo’s weight as he holds you tight around his arms tonight. Right?

However, there, on the other side of dreams, a beast within has been allowed to wander through the ups and downs of your anatomy… he has been freed, he or perhaps, “it”

White skin, yellow eyes. Half a mask, broken. A horn, and long, long orange mane. Strands like waterfall, kissing your skin, tangling with your arms… 

A claw, going up and down the silhouette of your spine… panting creature, desperate to bite, to taste, to fuck. 

“Mine…” just that word; that’s the only word aside from “protect” it could murmur.

What has taken over Kurosaki-kun? He is not there; he is not able to stop the creature within. 

His hand slides down your belly, coming from behind. He does, slowly. He might be a beast, but when such a perfect prey lays there, asleep, immobile, he must not scare it away. 

However, a tongue so impossible to control, tastes the sweet flavour of your skin. From your shoulder to your neck, warm and wet, ready to eat your flesh. 

You squirm a little under his touch. He stops, just for a second. And then, back to your body… His hand slide now up to your breasts, his claws wanting to burry on them, to squeeze… falling asleep naked next to him hasn’t been the best idea. 

“Mghn… Ichigo…?” you mumble, still dozed off. Your hand tries to reach for him, blindingly patting behind you.

A soft growl invades the room, that’s definitely not Ichigo’s voice… 

You turn around, still a little sleepy, to discover a beast instead of your boyfriend. It is panting, and it seems to be fighting against himself… but still desperate for you, as his claws carve more and more into your skin. 

“You couldn’t control him…” you whisper, taking your hand to his human façade side. “Now I know… but remember, Ichigo, this is also you… and I’m completely yours ~” 

You slowly pull the man in front of you towards you; it feels weird, strange, but a heat that’s been growing inside you has already taken over as much as his hollow had… 

That man, that beast, that hybrid takes a deep breath pouncing into you, pinning you against the bed with a strength you have never experienced before. 

Your face gets squeezed against the mattress; his claws pull your hips up to get you on all fours. There are little blood drops on your skin, right where his nails have scratched… and there is also wetness coming from your core, dripping down the bed, hypnotizing Ichigo in the most lewd way. 

It doesn’t take much time for the beast to attack; his sex, hard, even bigger, throbbing, searches in an erratic desperation to get swallowed by your insides.

“Do it, Ichigo… I know you can hear me, do it…” you whimper, still a little sleepy, with eyes teary and relaxed muscles. 

He grunts, finally getting his dick deep inside, in such strong ram it forces your legs to fail you and your whole body to be pressed against the bed. 

He immediately begins moving, in and out, thrusting with such violence your toes curl and your nails carve into the sheets. 

Ichigo bites your shoulder, panting in your ear, growling. His ginger hair, longer than ever, rains down his back and frames the sides of your captive body. 

You tremble, the sound of your fluids trying to escape your core makes it even more lustful. You can feel his intrusion into your lower belly, and you could totally swear you could see the bulge if you were to be on your back. 

“I love you” you murmur, biting the sheets, covered in sweat. Yours, and his. 

It simply takes those three words to wake this man up, from such a “heartless” possession.

“I’m… SORRY… I-“ he screams, trying to stop his body from fucking you. This last, being absolutely impossible. 

“Do not stop, Ichigo…” you whine, reaching for his hips to force him to go deeper into your core. “I’m com- ing… Keep fucking me, this way” 

Poor man, he knew asking him to stop would have been fruitless… he simply couldn’t have done it ~ 

[geemakesfanart]

“…oh! Well- I- no one’s ever asked me that…?” Lady Murder stammered. Suddenly flustered with the attention that she was receiving.

“Really!? But you make it look so easy, it’s amazing!” Magic Jane gasped, and Lady Murder was vividly reminded that the young hero had only been in the job for a couple of weeks. She looked really young actually. Like really, really young. How old was the Heroes Association entrance age, again?

“Thank you…?” Lady Murder, a veteran villain and almost 40 in a few months, was experiencing something new for the first time in years. But she knew how these heroes worked when they were on the back leg, they were tricky, and would to anything to “save the day”. Even flattering a small time evil-doer like her.

“I mean-!” The little hero started “it should have taken years to plan something this big!” “I mean not really?” “Not to mention that each of the platforms should consume huge amounts of energy!” “I mean not really..?” “But they are miraculously going at full power, even now! What battery do they even use!?” “Well, that’s kind of a secret…?” “Honestly, you must be some type of genius!!”

Lady Murder, no, Mya felt something in her worldview shift to the left.

She knew what she was: a dirty westerner who grew crooked and twisted. Like they all do in the end. Because otherwise they die off. Or well, at least they used to, things have been different lately.

And she’s glad! Really! Seeing westerners like her walking down the streets without being killed by some stupid easterners at the first sign of them using their powers. But…

She looks at the little hero before her and, “ do you want me to teach you?”

“-and then I used AI to recognize the mutated gene, yes! I know! Using AI is one of the worst crimes ever! But listen to me-!” and as Lady Murder Mya turned to her young companion she came to the realization.

Magic Jane hadn’t run off, or fought her, or took notes on how to destroy her machines (her babies, her creations).

No.

Instead she had shook off her bindings a long time ago, and decided to take a seat on one of the few chairs near Mya. This stupid child hadn’t even called for reinforcements (because they had been at it for hours now, they really should be here now). She felt herself tear up a little. This hero was clearly too trusting, the world would eat her up in a single bite.

“…what do really want from me?” Mya asked, fingers playing with the edges of the screws in front of her.

And the stupid child, with the same paper white skin that almost looked yellow as Mya (because you never really leave the west), looked at Mya straight into her eyes and said:

“…I want to change the world.”

“How could you?” “I can expla-“ “No, I don’t mean morally. Logistically how could you even pull something like this off?”

[thearunadragon]

Like many other people, I have wanted to know for years what it is the Menoä Tree took from Eragon. Let us analyze what we know, shall we?

Firstly, Paolini has said that whatever it is is long-winded and will cause many dramatic issues in the future (Book V.) And, secondly, we know that at least one person has gotten it right, and in a post 4+ years old judging by the time Paolini said this. The platform of the correct theory is, to my knowledge, unknown.

The popular fan theories that have been disproved include:

Eragon or Saphira’s fertility. Paolini has stated clearly they both still have the ability to have children (though Eragon’s transformation during the Agaetí Blödhren might make this difficult with a normal human/elf.)

Saphira’s Eldunarí. Paolini states both that what was taken ONLY affects Eragon, and Saphira definitely would notice if her Eldunarí was missing. Furthermore, he stated the theory that Eragon gained his own Eldunarí during his transformation is false, but interesting regardless.

Eragon’s connection to the land. Paolini stated that Eragon’s loss was unrelated to his leaving Alagaësia, Angela’s prophecy, or anything of this nature.

The Menoä Tree did not take nothing. She did, in fact, take something, but of what nature, we do not know, though I saw a hint Poalini left about it mentioning that Eragon’s transformation was not complete.

He has also stated that what is taken should be guessable based on given text. However, most theories I have seen that would leave the Menoä Tree’s actions making sense have been disproved, as it apparently is not related to her backstory, at least not evidently.

He also says that the Menoä Tree definitely TOOK something, which disproves the theory that she put a “seed” in his body to continue her forest.

It is also (if the information I was relayed is correct) disproved that Menoä tree took Eragon’s sperm, or his DNA. (Besides, neither of these would have formed a physical pain, as he felt in the book. Even though it would amuse me to think that she, like, stole his DNA to make her a new lover to replace her old, cheating one, but this time with less flaws. She WAS weirdly interested in ‘what nature of creature Eragon was…’)

She did not fix any incurable disease (as said in an interview) and it is highly doubtful that she took part of his spleen, gallbladder, or appendix, though I cannot remember if I actually SAW him say this is untrue, or dreamt it. HOWEVER, this is a very popular theory (partly in satire) and Paolini has stated that all popular fan theories are not correct.

But what does that leave us? What did she take? A part of his intestine? A piece of his True Name (though that also wouldn’t explain the physical discomfort)? Cause a hernia? It’s BUGGING ME. I NEED to know, and I’ve been searching every Menoä Tree post I can find for answers (and I still am)!

The only way I can think of to know fully would be to understand a COMPLETE Rider’s transformation and try to find the missing piece between it and Eragon. Or maybe the piece is not something taken from the transformation itself, but something that will cause issue when the transformation progresses. Perhaps a part of his connection to magic, a measure of strength, ANYTHING.

Now, perhaps it really is an organ, or another physical part of his body (which makes the most sense to me, considering the physical pain in his stomach mentioned) in which case his rapid loss of weight mentioned in TFTWTW might be a clue of some sort, but I can’t be certain. (He has been working hard, after all, and stressed half to death to boot.)

Are there any theories you guys have come up with or seen? What am I missing here?

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

personal confession. [3/3] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings:  (+18) smut, fluff, sex, but they are safe (good job!), Sarah and Tommy

A/N: sorry. i've been mentally down lately. my brain created this.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

He went downstairs and immediately noticed Sarah curled up on the couch with a book on her lap. The girl quickly lifted her head and her face lit up with a smile.

"You look good." she said. "You combed your hair, that's nice."

"Don't make fun of your old man." Joel muttered, feeling his ears burn.

She closed the book and put it on the coffee table. "If I wanted to make fun of you, I'd say it took you a long time to finally ask her out. Does she even know it's a date?"

"You spend too much time with Tommy." Joel snorted. "Do I really look good?"

"Sure. And you smell nice too."

He smiled. Tommy had been making fun of him enough these days. He already felt like a teenager who was going on a first date with a girl he liked, and Joel hadn't been a teenager for a long time. Uncertainty and fear filled every inch of his body.

It had been over a week before the two of you had finally managed to find a free evening. If you could cut off all of Tommy's sarcastic comments, Joel was doomed to them all the time.

"You should buy her flowers." Sarah said, watching her father straighten his shirt in front of the mirror, he rarely wore them so she guessed he cared about how he looked now.

He looked at her reflection, frowning, "You think so?"

"Yeah, girls like flowers." She smiled, "You'll show her that you're thinking about her. What kind of flowers does she like?"

The impressive bouquet of roses Jack had given you immediately appeared in his head. Sarah seemed to read his mind.

"Don't buy her roses, that's cliché." she grimaced "Pick something cute and remind her of you."

"I will."

Suddenly the door opened and Tommy came in carrying a large box of pizza. He grinned at his brother and winked at Sarah.

"You're growing up so fast, Joel." he sighed fondly "Sarah and I are so proud of you."

"I already regret asking you to stay with her." Joel mumbled glancing at his watch "Will you be okay?"

"Of course!" Tommy put the pizza on the table and sat down on the couch.

"I asked Sarah."

"Sure, Dad." she laughed and smoothed his shirt over his chest "Go and have fun. She likes you already."

He smiled uncertainly, grabbed his car keys and left slamming the door behind him. He hadn't even started the engine when Tommy ran out after him and stood by the car.

"I almost forgot!" he pulled a pack of condoms out of his pocket and grinned "Don't cause trouble, kid."

"Fuck!" Joel rolled his eyes "Really?"

He took the pack from him and put it in his jeans pocket.

"Be good!"

If someone asked you to describe your first date with Joel, you wouldn't know what to say. You were there, that was for sure. You talked, because you remember his laugh and how wonderful wrinkles appeared around his eyes. 

His hand on your thigh, a little higher than the hem of your dress. How easy it was to talk and how good you felt around him. Those wonderful eyes...

But something more? Damn... Your mind was blank.

But you remembered exactly what happened when you crossed the threshold of your house. How could you forget?

You cum twice without even taking off your dress, and Joel was still wearing the shirt in which he looked like the main meal of the evening. Fingers and lips. Miller was taking you apart with pleasure.

"Another one." he mumbled, lifting his head from between your thighs. "Will you give me another one, baby?"

"Shit! No!"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No?"

"No!" you repeated and shifted so that Joel looked at you as if you had taken his favorite toy from under his nose. "All I've been thinking about all evening is that I want you to fuck me. And I really want that." A wicked smile appeared on his lips. "If I don't get your cock now, then...."

"Then what?" he asked, lifting himself up and moving towards you so that he closed you between his broad arms.

"You're unbearable!" you moaned feeling his bulge rubbing against your swollen pussy.

"And you're horny like a cat in heat."

You opened your mouth in surprise and Joel raised an eyebrow very pleased with the effect he was having on you. 

All his uncertainty and fear of how it would all look, flew away. He felt so comfortable with you, and now you were lying under him like the best dessert of the evening.

The dress you were wearing looked amazing, but your shiny eyes and trembling lips looked even better as you cum. He wanted you to get everything you said no one had given you before. He wanted to be the one to give it to you.

"You have to know that I dream of nothing else." he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your chin and neck. "Ever since you first cum on my fingers, I've dreamed of being inside you. I could do so many things with you..."

"So we have plans for the next few evenings." Your hands unbuttoned his belt and slid inside.

Joel closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He was so hard that every touch you made was risky.

"Take off your dress."

That was an order. He stood up, and you quickly sat up and with one swift movement, you took your dress over your head, throwing it on the floor. Joel unbuttoned his shirt and you saw his broad chest. The thought that all of this would soon be yours was already arousing.

His dark eyes didn't leave your face.

"Hands and knees. Is that good for you?"

You nodded. Damn, you hadn't wanted anyone as much as Joel did in that moment in a long time. The feeling was almost unbearable. Whatever he said, you would have agreed.

"I'm on the pill, in case you wanted to know." You said, noticing him pulling a condom out of the back pocket of his jeans.

He smiled gently. "I trust you, but..."

"Yeah, sure."

You turned around and were about to assume the position when a strong arm pulled you closer to him. His body was heated, and his hard cock slid between your buttocks.

"If you knew what you were doing to me..." he whispered, kissing the back of your neck, one of his large hands cupping your breast, still hidden in your bra. "I walk around half-hard all day. Jesus, you drive me crazy."

"So don't hold back today. I'll take you, Joel."

He groaned into your ear, then pushed you down, your ass arched invitingly towards him. He stroked your hips gently.

"Fuck, you're so wet." he groaned, and you bit your lip as you felt his tip brush against your entrance. "Ready?"

"Yes."

You held your breath as the big head of his cock slid inside you, and then inch by inch, Joel pushed deeper and deeper. Even though he had prepared you earlier, this stretch was unlike anything else. When he finally entered fully, you both froze for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked quietly, running his hand over your lower back.

"Uhmm..." was all that escaped your lips, muffled by the pillow. "Move, please."

And he moved, slowly at first he pulled out almost completely, and then he slammed into you so hard that you moaned. This was what he wanted to hear, he wanted more of it. Every thrust of his was precise to squeeze every sweet moan and sigh out of you. You clenched your fingers on the pillow, unable to say a word.

"Fuck, you're so tight." he panted.

This was better than he imagined. Your body was completely submissive to him, he was pulling everything out of you, and you were unable to do anything, overwhelmed by the pleasure that filled you with every movement of his. His cock hit exactly the spot you needed. If Joel hadn't held your hips so tightly, you were sure your legs wouldn't have held you in this position.

The slap of skin against skin, your shallow breaths, you could hear the blood pounding in your ears.

"I won't last long, baby..." Joel's voice was low and hoarse "You're too... too... Fuck!"

"I-I'm c-close... Please, Joel..."

One of his hands slid between your thighs and began to make hard circles on your clit. You bit the pillow trying to muffle the moan that escaped your lungs.

"C'mon, I've got you. Give it to me, baby."

Your walls clenched around his cock tightly. You felt your body tense up and if Joel hadn't held you down he would have pulled out of you, he was close too. Another few hard thrusts and he came with a loud groan, clenching his teeth tightly.

"Fuck!" he groaned leaning down and kissing your sweaty back "Baby..."

You couldn't answer anything. Numbly, you only felt him slide out of you, and then he took off the condom and somehow managed to lie down next to you.

You both breathed deeply, unable to say a word. You felt like your brain was a mess, but your body was slowly regaining feeling. After a few moments, you managed to roll onto your back.

"Wow." you gasped.

"Yeah." Joel mumbled, "That was..."

"Fucking awesome."

"Yeah..."

You burst out laughing and turned your head to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, a smile playing on his lips.

"I wonder..." he began slowly, "...how we're going to get back to work knowing we can do things like this together."

"I have no idea." you chuckled, "But I'd love to do it again."

Gorgeous brown eyes looked at you fondly. "Really?"

"We should take it slow, but... Yeah." you turned to the side and rested your head on your hand "I mean, I've always liked you so we've got the awkward beginnings behind us."

"Hey, I'd love to go on a few dates with you." Joel frowned "You're pretty cool."

"Thanks!" you laughed, patting his shoulder "You're pretty okay too."

His hand found your cheek and he pulled you closer to brush his lips against yours. He could get used to moments like this. He could get used to you.

"Maybe you could come over for dinner on Sunday?" he asked, and seeing your surprised expression added "Sarah asked me to, but if you don't want to, or have other plans..."

"No, I'd love to come." you smiled.

Come and stay.

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[jellyskink]

The Doc is OUT (For the day.)

"Callie I'm home! And I got you a treeaattt~!"

Irene's voice rang through her studio apartment with a mix of excitement and weariness. She was finally done with work for the day, seeing her child was what she was looking forward to the most after today.

(Hm... I don't see her waiting for me at the door as usual, where could she be?)

Unceremoniously kicking off her shoes next to door, she tosses her jacket onto her sofa, after which she follows suit onto.

Today was just like any other, day in and day out from the medical office. The same car troubles, the same usual bickering with Mr. Ibis, the same dang stress of worrying how soon the world as she knew it was going to end, but on top of it all off, she had another appointment with Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines that day.

(I just don't get that guy. Nothing about his lifestyle or even state of being makes sense! This is the first time in my entire career I can't figure out SOME kind of pattern with my patient.)

Dr. Pine's entire situation confused her, and the cherry on top was that his medical records were just as confusing and a mess to figure out.

(I just don't get it, there's such a wide gap of time between any kind of medical logs that have information on Dr.Pines. It's almost like he went MISSING for a while in his life.)

Thinking about this all really made her headache worse. Her hands reached up to her temples as she began to massage them gently. It didn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

Irene found herself sighing loudly as an adorably unearthly meow rang in her ear and she felt an otherworldly ball of fur lay on her head.

"mRrowww..."

"Daww hello my little angel! I missed you so much!"

Her hands immediately went from her own to the incomprehensiblely adorable ball of fur that gave her so much reason in her life. She was her baby, her adorable little cat Calamari.

Calamari happily purred in response to Irene's affection. Irene knew she was a walking trope of a lonely cat lady who treated her cat like her own flesh and blood, but she didn't care. Calamari was really the only family she had right now, and the foolish trope was one that was lame anyway.

"Guess what? I got you a treat while I was out today! It's your favorite! A tuna flavored cat biscuit!"

Reaching into her pocket, Irene revealed the cat biscuit to her fluffy friend. Before she had the chance to unwrap it, she felt it dematerialize from her hand like it was going out of style.

"Haha! I knew you'd love it! You're so cute!!"

Alright so Callie rarely ate with her mouth and preferred to absorb most food items into her third eye. It wasn't normal but it was very much still adorable! Even if staring into said eye for too long made you space out and question life for twenty minutes.

Calamari happily rubbed her head onto Irene's hand after finishing her treat.

(I know there isn't a ton of reliable studies that show animals such as cats can thank people, but Callie's a smart kitty, I'm sure she knows how! It definitely wouldn't be the weirdest thing she could do. Hmm, it is getting pretty late now, I should probably get dinner taken care of, I'm pretty hungry right now myself.)

With a sigh and movements as graceful as she could, she picked up Calamari and cradled her as she reached for her phone and opened up her flipphone.

(I... really don't feel like cooking today. You know what? I'm going to splurge and get takeout tonight.

But what? Chinese? No I need to watch my sodium intake... Spaghetti Bolognese from that one Italian restaurant a couple blocks down? Tempting as that is one of my favorite foods, and the owner does owe me a couple of favors themselves, but then again I get that a lot, I don't want to get tired of it by accident...)

Calamari flopped around in her arms playfully as she contemplated what she wanted to eat.

(Ah of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner! Pizza! It isn't the healthiest choice either, but I could seriously go for it right now! Now where did I put that one pizza place's number...)

After what felt like eternity waiting for her pizza delivery order, Irene heard a knock on the door as she opened it. The pizza she ordered placed politely on top of her cat shaped doormat, looking as much as a treasure as an ancient relic in the moment.

(Gotta say I'm glad I'm able to pay by card for this... I'm really not in the mood to talk right now to anyone.)

Happily taking the pizza into her home, Irene flopped down onto her couch, Calamari immediately following suit.

The pizza was as delectable as ambrosia in that moment. The crust was perfectly golden brown and spiced with italian seasoning, the sauce was the perfect balance of sweet and savory, spiced to perfection, and the cheese and pepperoni on top was the perfect way to end the wonderful layers of the pizza pie. And was that basil added on top? It was!!

The pizza was cut into squares, triangle pizza at least for the past year wasn't very popular with establishments or certain people, especially if it was just a cheese pizza, but that didn't matter at all to Irene.

Before she knew it Irene found herself eating the entire pizza, sharing some of the cheese and pepperoni with Calamari since that was her favorite part to eat.

(Ah I didn't mean to indulge so much tonight... well you know what? It was delicious! Who knows how long it's been since I last ate a nice meal that WASN'T something from the hospital cafeteria...)

Calamari at this point was sleeping next to Irene on the couch, satisfied and happily napping.

(Daw... I'm glad she liked it too, thank goodness the ingredients in this are alright to give to her in moderation, I have trouble saying no to my darling little Calamari!)

Noticing the time, Irene decided it was time to get ready for bed. There were patients to see and work for her to do tomorrow.

(I really want to wear my comfiest and favorite pajamas tonight, where are they? I know I washed them and had them in my pile of clean laundry on my bed... aha! Here they are!)

Irene quickly threw on her favorite pajamas, an oversized nightshirt with the words "Live, Laugh, CatMom" printed on it in cursive accompanyed by a silly picture of a cat Irene absolutely adored. Paired with it were her flowy and comfortable pajama bottoms, decorated with pictures of cats with silly mustaches.

(Finally done for the day, I really should fold my laundry and put it away... Ehhh I'll do it tomorrow. For now I'll just put the clothes and the basket on my dinnertable.)

Nighttime quickly began to set as Irene sat at her worn down antique vanity desk. The stars were beautiful at this hour, glittering throughout the night, they were one of the only things that stayed consistent and normal in Irene's life.

(Geez, no matter how many times I look at myself in the mirror I can't help but notice how quickly time passes. Stress really isn't doing your already awkward looks any favors... Maybe I need to change up my look again? But how?

Maybe I should get back into trying to learn makeup and more "modern" fashion... Or maybe a new haircut? Maybe not that latter option, I'm quite happy with my bob, it's certainly been easier to care for my hair lately, and I'm not sure I could pull off anything shorter or more... "Adventurous.")

"Mrrroww??" With a quick leap, Calamari jumped onto the desk, knocking over a few cosmetics, toiletries, and photos while doing so.

"Woah! Careful my dear! Haha you always seem to know when something is bothering me..."

*Sigh* "I suppose I'm just worried about myself again is all. You know me, whenever I'm not worrying about how I look, I worry about my work."

(I guess I just, never expected my life to go this way I suppose. Cipher really did throw a wrench into a lot of my plans in life. I mean, did anyone expect any of this to happen? I'm ashamed to admit I was arrogant in the beginning, I believed this all couldn't be possible, that it'd be solved soon if anything, I believed it couldn't cause as much problems and dangers to the world as it did...)

"You know what they say, every rose has it's thorn, although I certainly feel like I have more thorns than rose sometimes..."

(I'll never forget my first reaction to being sent out as a part of the group of doctors to help the people evacuating Gravity Falls. There was so much panic, so much chaos, and some of the wounds I had to patch up weren't anything you'd ever normally deal with even if you worked in the ER.

It almost seemed unreal, that any moment someone would say "cut" and it would end like a movie.)

(It's these kind of moments of panic that really make me childishly wish that the world of medical science was as simple as we believed it was as kids, that all it really took was being rushed to the infirmary, some rest, a bandaid, and some care to heal whatever was hurting somone.)

(But that wasn't how things were. It was much more complicated than that, and the kicker was that you always held your patient's life in your line like a tether. Whenever that tether broke and you couldn't help fix it no matter how hard you tried, having to tell the patient's family their loved one was gone... It's almost too much to bear sometimes.)

"I'm so thankful I have you though Callie, I really think you're one of the only good things to come out of this mess and into my life."

"Woof!"

"Haha!! That's a new one! You never cease to surprise me girl! That and the weird things you sometimes bring me home..."

(When she was younger it was normal stuff like mice, small birds, and insects. Nowadays it was much more... weird. When it wasn't something like a gnome panicking for it's life or an eyebat, it was random items.)

(At first it was pretty normal, like a sparkly pink ribbon probably used to tie up hair or something, black nail polish, or what I'm assuming is someone's art project for pins of what I'm guessing is a top hat and bow tie??)

(Then it became weirder and more varied. For example, she once brought home a weird plush that resembles Dr. Pines in a way. That one in particular was odd because I don't think I've ever seen Dr. Pines smile in such a showboating way, let alone wear anything that wasn't of any semblance to "his muse". The suit seemed normal but the fez was definitely the weirdest thing.)

(Most recently she brought home some kind of sentient gummy lizard-snake thing. It had jumped out of my hands when I had tried to take it outside to release it, and I still haven't found it to this day. Sometimes I swear spot it moving around somewhere from the corner of my eye while I'm at home...)

"Anyways, how about we head to bed? I know I'm tired today after an exhausting day!"

(I'll clean up my vanity later, it's certainly getting way too late for me to be up at this hour...)

With that, Irene promptly headed to bed with Calamari following in tow. She promptly fell asleep quickly after laying her head down, despite wanting to spend some more time thinking about things.

Unbeknownst to her though, up high in a corner of the wall of her apartment, was a cute little housespider sitting on it's web.

Of course the next morning Calamari would be found by Irene playing with this exact spider.

A cute little spider, with a strange pattern that strangely looked like a certain evil dorito with an eye. :)

(I'm really glad you and others liked my cringey fanfiction! It definitely surprised me and had me smiling ear to ear!

I hope you don't mind I kinda winged it with Oleander's character. I thought she kinda gave off the vibes of a tomboy/tomboy in her youth while also the vibes of the "determined doctor" trope. Hopefully this doesn't clash with your actual ideas for her? I love the idea too of her being a dorky cat lady too lol.

I seriously loved the details you made about Calamari! I thought it'd be funny if her teleporting power also let her travel dimensions for funsies, because imagine all of the mischief she could cause! Especially if she likes to steal Bill and Ford's stuff the most lmaoo.)

I LOVE cat mom Oleander!! And Calamari stealing stuff from other universes? PERFECT. I DEEPLY hope she steals things from other AU Fords!

And, Ford. Honey. Baby. Calamari isn't the reason you lost the cat show.

(I think I'll call this ask fiction! I'll put these in that tag, for those who want to find them again!! c: )

[llxferim]

Choose Part 2

a/n: FINALLY a part 2 for yall anddd sorry I wasn't in the mood for smuttt. Also, Should I write a Natasha endgame version?

here's part 1 if you haven't read it!

Pairings: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: After that night, all you could think about was Wanda and Natasha. You took a few days off and holed up in your room to think but then, you got a call.

Warnings: Bad language, fem!reader, no y/n used, fluff, drunk reader, alcohol (tell me if i missed anything)

Word count: 2k

After last night, you stayed holed up in your room, the weight of everything pressing heavily on your chest. You had taken a few days off, hoping the time would help you sort through your tangled thoughts. Going on a date with both Wanda and Natasha was supposed to help you choose between them, Instead, it had only deepened the confusion, leaving you trapped,

You didn’t want to hurt either of them—But avoiding the situation wasn’t helping. Silence would only make things worse, and you knew it.

Lying on your bed, the soft hum of a TV show filled the background, though you weren’t paying attention. Your phone buzzed, the vibrations traveling through the mattress before finally reaching you. You picked it up, heart pounding, hoping—no, expecting—it to be Wanda or Natasha. But the screen read, Kate.

Disappointment flickered for a moment, but you answered anyway.

“We’re going out,” Kate declared, her voice brisk and unapologetic. “Get dressed. I can’t stand you moping around like this anymore.”

You blinked, startled by her abruptness. Before you could get a word in, she added, “You have an hour. Bye,” and hung up without waiting for a response.

For a moment, you just stared at your phone, the call already disconnected. Kate’s words rang in your ears, and you couldn’t ignore the sting of truth in them. Had this whole Wanda-Natasha situation really gotten to you that much?

You sighed, letting the phone drop onto the bed beside you. Maybe Kate was right. Maybe you did need to get out, even if just to clear your head.

***

You were in a bar, one of the more popular spots in town, but on a Wednesday night, it was surprisingly quiet. Most of the regulars seemed to be staying in, leaving you to wallow in your own chaos. You were on your fourth shot of whiskey, the fiery liquid blurring the edges of your thoughts. You were pretty sure the entire bar now knew about your messy situation, thanks to your drunken rambling.

Kate wasn’t much help—she’d long since ditched you to dance with some girl she’d just met. You were left at the counter, propping your head on your hand as you unloaded your woes on the bartender—who seemed so uninterested in anything you had to say, but you were too drunk to care.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you slurred, the whiskey loosening your tongue, “Natasha, she’s… she’s amazing. So strong, so beautiful—” You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “But Wanda, god…” You trailed off, covering your face entirely with your palms and sighing deeply. “Ugh. Never mind.”

A familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts. "No, please, continue," Wanda’s voice was soft, but it had that unmistakable edge that made your pulse spike.

Your heart stuttered as you turned to face her, blinking in disbelief. Wanda. Sitting right next to you, a smirk playing on her lips.

"What—" hic "What are you doing here?" You stammered, your breath catching in your chest.

Her eyes softened, though there was still a playfulness in her gaze. "How much have you had to drink, darling?" she asked, her voice low and teasing as she casually slid your glass from your hand and set it aside, taking money out of her pocket.

“You don’t have to- i have money” You protest, not wanting her to waste hers, but of-course she refuses.

She raised an eyebrow, studying you for a moment. "You good to stand up?"

You blinked, disoriented. "Yeah, sure. Where are we going?"

You tried to stand, but the room swayed beneath you. Just as your knees threatened to buckle, Wanda’s arms slid around your waist, steadying you, her touch firm and warm.

You look up at her as a red blush creeps onto your face. you clear your throat, “thank you”

“You’re really cute when you’re shy, did you know that?” She helps you to your feet, before using her arms around your waist to guide you outside.

“wait- Kate-“ You start to turn around right at the door but Wanda stops you, “i already Called Yelena, she’ll be here any minute, it’s okay” she reassures you.

“oh- okay” You mumble as you follow her lead, outside the door. The cold reaches you immediately, your first instinct being to lean into her warmth, resting your head on her shoulder.

You finally reach Wanda’s car, your head still spinning, but a but better than before.

She helped you into the passenger seat, her hands brushing yours as she fastened your seatbelt. For a moment, the world felt like it was slowing down—the soft scent of her perfume, the way she seemed to be in perfect control, her gaze flicking over you with something unreadable. The closeness of her body, the soft brush of her fingers against your skin...

As she straightened, your eyes locked for just a second, and in that moment, the rest of the world fell away. You couldn't help it. You leaned in, your lips almost brushing hers.

But then she pulled away, her breath warm against your cheek. You blinked, frustrated, and mumbled something incoherent.

"You’re not sober, love," Wanda’s voice was gentle.

She sits down next to you. “C’mon, drink up” she says, giving you a cold bottle of water, which you down in seconds. You lean back into the seat as she starts driving.

You leaned your head back against the seat, trying to will the drunken fog away, but your thoughts kept circling back to her—her touch, the look in her eyes, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room. you let your eyes rest for a second, savoring the feeling of being with her.

Next thing you knew, Wanda was helping you out of the car, “Do you feel better, Love?” She asks softly. “Yeah, thank you” You mumble out, embarrassed, The embarrassment of your earlier behavior clawed at you. “I’m sorry i ruined your night,” You apologized, opening the door, and called the Elevator. “What do you mean?” She asks with a confused tone, leaning against the elevator Frame.

“You probably went there to unwind or- have fun-” you start rumbling, the drunken feeling still slightly there. before you could continue you were interrupted with a chuckle coming from Wanda, “What- What’s so funny!” You ask with a pout, frustrated. “You don’t remember texting me?” She asks as your face warms up, “i- what?” you felt dumbfounded, did you text her something weird? Something embarrassi— “You texted me to come and get you because you missed me” She snaps you out of your thoughts with a soft giggle, before heading into the Elevator, dragging you with her, her hand still protectively around your waist, just in case.

“Fuck” You sigh, covering your face with your hands, leaning back on the elevator door. you feel her footsteps getting closer to you, her rough hands grabbing on to yours, pulling them away, revealing your flushed face.

“I’m sorry” You apologize, finally looking her in the eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darling.”

After a moment of silence, the elevator dinged, announcing your arrival at your floor. Wanda's hand slid down to intertwine with yours, her touch both grounding and electrifying. "Come on," she murmured, leading you toward your apartment.

You followed her, the world around you fading into the background. All that mattered was the warmth of her hand in yours and the way her presence seemed to anchor you in ways you didn’t fully understand yet.

Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, swaying slightly. Wanda’s hands were immediately on your shoulders, steadying you again. "Alright, sit," she instructed, guiding you to the couch. Her tone left no room for argument, but there was a tenderness in her voice that made you comply without hesitation.

She comes back with a cup of water and aspirin “Take these” she said softly, crouching in front of you and placing the items on the coffee table. Her green eyes met yours. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Of course i do” she says.

You hadn't even realized how much you craved this—her attention, her care, the way she made everything feel right. You could feel the tension in your chest loosening with each breath.

Wanda sat beside you, her eyes focused on you as you slowly took the water and aspirin she had handed you. The cool liquid slid down your throat, soothing the remnants of the whiskey’s burn. You felt her gaze on you, not judgmental, but understanding. She wasn't in a rush. She wasn't going anywhere.

You shifted on the couch, your hands feeling oddly restless, unsure whether you wanted to speak or just keep your thoughts to yourself. But the silence hung between you like an unspoken question, a question you knew you couldn't avoid forever.

“Wanda...” You started, your voice quieter than you intended. “I’ve been… I’ve been thinking a lot. About all of this.

Her eyes softened, and she shifted closer, the warmth of her body radiating against yours. She didn’t interrupt you, didn’t push you to speak faster.

“I—” You stopped, unsure how to voice the storm of emotions swirling in your chest. You knew what you were about to say, what you needed to say, but the words didn’t come easily. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “You make me feel... alive, Wanda. In a way that I never expected. And I—I don’t know how to say it, but…”

You trailed off, letting the silence hang between you as you gathered your courage. The weight of the decision was pressing down on you, and at that moment, it felt like your heart was demanding you make a choice.

Her hand found yours again, her thumb gently brushing across your knuckles, grounding you. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, love,” she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “But I’m here, no matter what.”

The words felt like a lifeline, and it was like the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. You didn’t need to explain everything, to find the perfect words. What mattered now was the quiet truth that had been sitting in your heart all along.

Wanda was the one you wanted. She was the one who made you feel safe, and seen, in ways that Natasha couldn’t. It wasn’t that Natasha wasn’t incredible—she was—but it was Wanda’s presence that soothed you, that made everything else feel right.

You squeezed her hand, your heart racing now, the decision clearer than it had been before. “I think... I think I’ve known for a while now,” you said softly, looking directly into her eyes. “I just needed to admit it.”

Wanda tilted her head slightly, studying you with those knowing green eyes. You could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, but she said nothing, waiting.

“I choose you, Wanda. I’ve been scared to admit it,” you whispered, your voice trembling a little. “But I choose you.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just watched you with an intensity that felt like she could see every thought and feeling you were hiding. Then, her lips parted in a soft smile, the kind of smile that felt like home.

“I’m glad,” she said quietly, her voice full of warmth. And just like that, the tension that had been gnawing at you for days melted away. Wanda leaned in then, her forehead gently resting against yours, her breath warm and comforting. “You don’t need to be afraid with me,” she murmured.

You closed your eyes for a moment, basking in the simplicity of the moment—the clarity, the relief, the way it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips before her hands were cupping your face, drawing you closer, her lips brushing against your forehead.

“Don’t thank me,” she whispered back. “Just... trust me, love.”

And in that moment, you realized you didn’t need to say anything else. You trusted her. You trusted her with everything.

And that was enough.

[suhnandmoon]

chapter twenty three: serious route

please read the chapter 23 nav before you read!!!

disclaimer: don't perceive this. i don't really like to make written chapters but i thought i'd pay tribute to my og queen (2021 starlight) and try to redeem her. i'd rather you read route 2

warnings: kidnapping, forced unconsciousness

you woke up in a daze. it was unlike the last time you woke up in a foreign setting– mark’s guest room at 3am was starting to sound a lot more pleasant than you remembered– but this time you were slumped over, seated on a tree stump in the middle of the forest. the sky was pitch black with only a small fire and a few flashlights illuminating the area.

across the bonfire, you saw three figures talking lowly. you were paralyzed, recognizing one of the people to be eric. 

mind racing, you tried to think of the best possible escape route but upon shifting slightly, the pressure on your ankles indicated that your feet were bound together with rope.

“how long is she out for?” one of the voices asked, causing you to freeze. feigning unconsciousness was probably the best way to keep attention off of you, though you weren’t sure if you could keep the act up due to your full body shaking in fear.

“how the hell would i know. i just found out last week that i could even make people fall asleep.” a slightly deeper voice replied.

“well, let’s just hope she doesn’t wake up. makes things easier for us in negotiation.” you recognized the last voice to be eric, though it wasn’t surprising to you that he brought you there.

“shit- i think she’s awake. i hear her heart rate getting faster.” the first vampire commented. your stomach dropped immediately.

“you can hear fucking heartbeats?” eric asked incredulously, earning a punch on the shoulder from the other vampire.

“we all can if you focus, idiot.”

as they began bickering, you prayed they somehow forgot about you. eyes still closed, you hadn’t realized you shut them tighter as the first boy approached you.

“yn?” he said softly, catching you off guard. there was no malice in his tone. it was a completely different attitude than what you were expecting, especially after the run-in with sunwoo.

you opened an eye slightly to see your captor. he looked to be about your age as well. though knowing he was a vampire, that didn’t do much to help you. his friendly smile and round glasses caused him to look more unassuming than you thought he would, but you kept your guard up.

he let out a genuine chuckle at your attempt to crack your eye open without making it obvious you were awake.

“i know you’re awake.” he took a step closer, instinctively causing you to lean back, though you noticed he kept a respectful distance, “i’m sorry about all this. i’m changmin.”

“i know this looks bad but i promise we’re not gonna hurt you, we just need to,,” changmin paused to chose his words carefully. “use you as leverage for lack of a better explanation.”

you battled with the instinct lingering in your mind to trust him, “why kidnap me again? sunwoo already tried and it didn’t work.”

“because sunwoo’s a dumbass who hasn’t practiced self restraint a single day in his life-” the boy previously bickering with eric yelled from behind changmin.

“juyeon, shut the hell up, would you?” changmin tossed his complaint over his shoulder before turning back to you, “we’re doing what sunwoo should have done. he shouldn’t have taken it as far as he did. but as of right, we believe this is the only way for us to negotiate.”

“you’re a vampire now so i would hope you understand where we’re coming from,” eric’s tone was not as friendly as changmin, yet still sincere, “this deal we have with them- it’s a restriction that doesn’t do us any favor. we’re just trying to get them to let up on how much blood we can take from humans each month. its ridiculous.”

“this animal shit- it’s so fucking stupid. we’re vampires. they can take their moral high ground, but they can’t deny what we actually need.” juyeon added on.

“isn’t the agreement in place mainly so we don’t get found out?” you wish your voice came out stronger than it actually sounded, the slight shake in your voice giving you away.

“so? who cares. anyone who finds us out won’t know for much longer.” eric shrugged casually, sending a chill down your spine. for a moment, hearing them converse and bicker gave them a sense of humanity though they were your captors, but eric’s indifference toward the weight of a human life reminded you just how different you truly were. 

“anyways. yn, your friends are going to be showing up soon,” changmin changed the subject and redirected his focus back on you, “we might make threats toward you, just know we’re not actually going to hurt you. we just need to scare them. no promises about not harming the guys though.”

“now why would you tell her that? she’s gonna tell them she’s okay.” eric retaliated. 

if the adrenaline in your system wasn’t so high, you would’ve found the nerve to actually be annoyed at their constant back and forth. but you didn’t have that much time to think about it before juyeon was muttering some insult at eric and walking over to you.

with one wave over your head, you were back out of it, slumping back down.

_______

it wasn’t long after your short moment of consciousness that the boys had found the location sent to them by juyeon. jeno was the only one to have stayed behind, keeping an eye out for chaeryoung as a precaution.

when they arrived to the scene, they were met with the looming figures of eric, changmin, and juyeon standing over the bonfire. eric held your slumped body close, making it clear that they had the advantage

seeing you like this for the second time caused renjun to step out, calling your name. mark had to reach out his arm to stop him from escalating anything too quickly, as eric made a show of tightening his hold upon renjun’s approach. this was sick.

they slowly approached them, closing the distance so they could talk.

“you brought us here to make compromises.” mark called out, keeping his tone neutral. “where’s your leader then?”

juyeon scoffed, glaring at the six. “this isn’t a compromise. we want this whole thing dropped.” he corrected.

“sangyeon’s the only one of you who can make that call.” the edge on mark’s voice was intimidating, but it didn’t phase the opposing team.

“i think you’re forgetting who we have here.” eric spoke up to defend his friend with a laugh, but it only caused donghyuck to scoff at the act.

“i think you’re forgetting you’re outnumbered, dumbass.” donghyuck mocked, causing eric to step forward in retaliation, briefly forgetting about his grasp on you. 

renjun and jisung quickly took that opportunity catch him off guard. with his grip on you loosened, renjun pulled you away while jisung distracted eric. this action erupted a fight out of the rest of the boys; mark, hyuck, and jaemin moving to keep juyeon and changmin away from you.

it was less of a fight, more of a tussle, when renjun extracted you from the scene. it luckily couldn’t escalate into anything serious when a deep shout could be heard several feet away from the area.

the sound of the voice immediately sent the three boys into a halt, as if they had just been commanded to freeze.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” the words grew distinguishable as the owner of the voice emerged from the trees. it was none other than lee sangyeon himself, as mark was smart enough to shoot him the location his own boys had sent them.

eric, juyeon, and changmin all looked at each other, expecting someone to speak up. their previously serious demeanor had a complete 180. they all looked like children caught red-handed.

“helping you?” juyeon was the first to break their silence, “sangyeon, you’ve been working yourself to death these last few months. the least we could do was resolve this issue for you.”

the firm look in sangyeon’s eyes almost dissipated at the sentiment, but he stood his ground with crossed arms.

“and how exactly would kidnapping their friend resolve any kinds of issues with them?” he almost laughed at the stupidity of it all.

“we were never gonna hurt her! we just needed to negotiate-” changmin defended their plan, earning a gasp from jaemin, “anyways, we wanted to alleviate your stress with the negotiation so taking care of it ourselves was our best option” 

their leader sighed. his lips parted, attempting to string together what he wanted to say before finally speaking up, “that's not why i’ve been busy.”

“its not? why do you get so touchy everytime its brought up?” eric pushed back.

“we’re moving. i’ve been trying to find a city without a large vampire presence so we don’t butt heads like this.” he referenced the silent group of boys just observing the dispute; unnecessarily pulled into this shit. “that’s why i’ve been stressed. no other reason.”

he turned to all of you. “i’m sorry about them. you can have my word this time that this will never happen again. i should’ve kept them in the loop.”

sangyeon nodded and guided the boys out of the forest, leaving the rest of you slightly baffled and annoyed in his wake, though you, of course, were still yet to wake up.

“well that was pointless.” chenle barked out a frustrated laugh, almost amused at how unnecessary that all was.

“and they never even apologized.” hyuck rolled his eyes, beginning their own trek out of the forest. “here in the middle of nowhere for nothing. fucking idiots.”

“at least yn’s safe.” mark tried to sympathize to avoid escalating their emotions, “let’s just get the hell out of here.

“don’t have to tell me twice,” hyuck called out, already a few feet ahead of everyone else.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

can i pretty pls request a fluffy nash oneshot 🙏🏻

one with banter somewhat similar to how he and libby talk 🙏🏻 (in the tiny moments we get of them 💔)

thank you so much for this request!! I know it was requested a while ago, so sorry it’s taken me this long. I gave it a go, but I don’t think I hit the nail right on the head with what you requested, sorry!!

title: comfort from a cowboy

pairing: nash hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you had a not-so-nice interview and nash comforts you

warnings:

a/n: for @kit4strophe 💖💖

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

My head rests against the hard wall behind me and I’ve been sat on the floor for so long my bum has gone numb. But I can’t be bothered to get up and move, I don’t have enough energy.

I replay the interview - or should I call it an interrogation - that had happened just a few hours earlier. It’s been on a sort of loop in my brain for a while now. The same blood boiling questions over and over and over. I never want to go through that again.

I hear my door open which is odd because when it’s shut usual no one bothers me, they know better than to. I don’t open my eyes immediately. I play a little game with myself, a silent game - ‘who is at the door’. Jameson? Unlikely. Grayson? Almost a definite no. Alisa? Don’t see it happening. Xander? A possibility. Nash? I doubted it. Avery? Wouldn’t be surprised. Oren? Only if there’s an emergency. Libby? Most likely.

I open my eyes and to my surprise my guess is annoyingly wrong. Usually I’m quite good at guessing games but I supposed today was an exception. Maybe it’s because there’s so much on my mind.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, scrunching up my nose at the sight of a certain texan cowboy motorcyclist.

“Careful,” he warns, the corners of his lips turning up in the slightest way, as he saunters in and sits down beside me, “you almost look happy to see me.”

“What are you doing here?” I repeat, not really in the mood for his games or anyone’s games for that matter.

“Sitting beside you,” he replies simply.

I narrow my eyes and shoot him a look, “don’t be cryptic.”

“You asked,” Nash shrugs, acting so laid back he was nearly horizontal.

“Why are you here?” I rephrase sharply, a tone he couldn’t ignore or twist or make light of.

“To make sure you’re alright,” he answers me earnestly, something in his deep hazel eyes that resembled concern.

“Well I’m fine, there we go,” I say shortly, “end of story, goodbye, the door is to your left.”

I close my eyes again and tilt my head back to rest on the wall, assuming he’d leave at my finalisation.

“I’m very aware of where the door is,” he drawls, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to use it.”

I internally scream in frustration and then open my eyes to meet his.

“Look I’m not in the mood for socialising right now,” I explain, trying hard not to sound too angry and defensive otherwise me might keep prying.

Nash is understanding. If I told him this, maybe he’d understand a kindly leave me be.

“You don’t have to socialise with me,” he says calmly, the soothing quality of his voice making it almost impossible for me to be mad at him.

“Fine,” I snap, standing up and perching myself on the end of my bed.

I won’t socialise. He can sit there bored out of his mind for all I care, in fact I hope he does. I lay back on the bed my head hitting the mattress with a soft thud. I want to sleep and rid myself of being such a prisoner to my own thoughts but for some reason I can’t bring myself to. And I know that reason is called Nash Hawthorne.

“Say something,” I groan sitting up.

If we have the conversation he so clearly wants, then he would leave, then I could sleep. Simple.

“What?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Just say something,” I exasperate, “the silence is killing me.”

A small smirk plays on his lips, “what happened to no socialising?”

“Just shut up and stay something,” I nearly yell.

“That phrase is one confusing oxymoron,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re a moron,” I reply, snarkily.

He laughs at me. It was a real laugh, not a pity one. His eyes are lit up and the smile fills his face. It is a pretty laugh, I think that’s what annoys me the most. I liked it.

“Tell me something,” I press on, “anything.”

He pauses for a minute. And then another. And then another. Until the pause is so long I wonder if he’s going to talk at all. Slowly he makes his way beside me again and looks deep into my eyes like he can read them.

“You don’t like all this,” he begins, “you didn’t ask for it, you wish you could go back to your old life but feel selfish and guilty to wish that because people would die to be in your situation.”

I try not to betray my shock but I’m awful at hiding my thoughts and feelings. My face probably says it all. Part of me is angry. He shouldn’t know this. I shouldn’t be this easy to read. It’s not fair. The other part is touched that someone care this much.

I fold my arms protectively across my chest and raise my eyebrows, “and who are you to tell me that?”

“An observer,” he says, almost gently.

“Stop observing me,” I tell him, “I’m not a project.”

“Oh I would never dream of considering you a project,” he replies, his voice deep in the back of his throat.

I move in closer, pinning him with an accusing look, “then what do you consider me?”

“Hold your horses, darlin’, I’m asking the questions here,” Nash grins, something about the way the light sparkles in his eyes gets under my skin.

“Says who? And don’t call me darling,” I tell him bluntly.

“Says me,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

He doesn’t add a darlin’ on the end and part of me respects him for that. If I’d been talking to anyone else they probably would’ve tried to piss me off even more. But Nash isn’t like that, he never has been.

“Well I don’t care what you have to say,” I quip.

“I never asked you to care,” he replies, his voice reminding me of a waveless sea.

I glance at him and find his eyes are already on me, I exhale slowly and ask him one more time, “why are you here?”

“To make sure you’re okay,” he answers in an instant. No double meanings, no puzzles, no avoidance, just a straight answer. But it takes me by surprise just as much.

I try to cover my true feelings, “why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I saw it,” Nash tells me softly, apology decadently laced through his eyes.

He was referring to the interview of course. I didn’t know he watched mine like I watched his.

“I told you not to watch,” I scowl.

“I’m not very good at listening,” he shrugs.

“Clearly,” I roll my eyes, playing with the fabric of my jumper sleeve to avoid looking at him.

“So are you okay?” he asks, again his voice stole that gentle tone that made my heart melt into mush.

“I’m fine,” I reply, keeping my tone cold and hard.

Of course I’m not fine. I am anything but fine. But saying you’re fine is so much easier than talking through the hard parts, the truth. And sometimes if you pretend it’s fine for long enough you can trick yourself into believing it too.

“I know what happened,” he reminds me with a tenderness that made my limbs ache to curl against his body.

“And I’m fine,” I say sharply, still in denial, still trying to be too stubborn for my own good.

“Well now you’ve told me twice it makes it all the more real,” he barks out a laugh.

I roll my eyes.

“Why do you care so much anyway,” I scoff.

“You’re important.”

The answer is lightning fast, almost like a reaction. It doesn’t have to be thought about, pondered or even considered. It’s just engraved into his brain as the thing that feels more natural, the most ‘right’ to reply with.

“What?”

“You’re important and I care that you’re okay,” he says.

I don’t know what mix of emotions hit my chest, I just know they hit with an impact that knocks all the air out of my lungs. He cares. I’m important to him. He wants to know I’m okay.

“What are you hiding under that cowboy hat?”

He almost chokes on his own spit in surprise. Then gain composure and leans back, raising an eyebrow, “you’re changing the subject?”

“Answer my question,” I demand, narrowing my eyes.

“What do you mean what am I hiding under my cowboy hat?” he muses with a sweet small smile.

“Well you have it on 24/7,” I explain, “so I presume you’re hiding something.”

“Just because something is covered up doesn’t mean it’s hiding something,” he says ,”and it goes both ways, just because something looks normal doesn’t mean it’s not hiding something.”

I have a feeling he’s not talking about cowboy hats anymore.

“I did what I had to do,” I reply.

“Stayed silent?” he asked.

“It was better,” I press on.

A flicker of rage flashes through his face, “people don’t get to talk to you like that.”

“I know,” I yell back.

“Then why did you let them,” he asks me, annoying not raising his voice to escalate the situation.

I fancy a good yelling match in this moment with all the anger built up inside of me, he can see that and he isn’t giving in. I can’t tell if I like him more for doing that or not.

“Not every battle is worth fighting,” I snap back, “you should know that better than anyone.”

“I do,” he replies, almost cautiously, “but some are.”

“If people see you’ll fight everything you throw at them they will use that against you,” I tell him, “if you act unbothered in the first place you can surprise them one day and fight back.”

“You’re a tactical thinker,” Nash comments.

“Who cares what I am?” I reply.

His voice softens with every feature of his face, “I care.”

And there it is again. That mix of emotions with impact just hurling towards my chest. I never know what to say, it steals all my words before I get to say them. So silence consumes us, as if we’re two eskimos dead in the snow, the frostbite gnawing at our frozen bodies.

“You don’t have to act tough in front of me darlin, I can see right through you,” he murmurs, so softly I wonder why I didn’t just melt on the spot.

“Don’t call me darling,” I snap, avoiding his eyes.

I’m worried if I look into them I’ll tell him everything. And I can’t risk pouring everything out, not when I’ve hidden it so well for this long.

“I’m here,” he says desperately.

I feel as his hand clasps around mine, giving it two squeezes. Reassurance. My heart pounds in my chest. I want to tell him, I want to be free of my problems, I want someone to help me. But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.

“I know,” I pause for a long while and he lets me, “it’s just hard.”

My voice cracks at the last word. After being so steady for so long it was bound to happen at some point.

“I know,” he says delicately, “believe me, I know.”

I let one tear slip down my cheek but as it rolls down, for my dignity he pretends not to notice. Always a gentleman.!

“I hate people,” I whisper, “they really suck.”

It was all I could manage without completely breaking down.

“I hate people too,” he agrees. I let him put an arm around me and I hesitantly lean into his chest.

I make a strangled laughing sound, “we should start a club.”

He sighs and quietly asks, “do you want to leave this place?”

“No,” I hesitate slightly, “and yes, but I’m not going to.”

“Is that what you really want?” Nash asks earnestly, a kind look in his eyes that is rare to find in any human being.

“Yeah, for now,” I nod.

“Good,” he says, “I’m glad you’re staying.”

“You’d miss me if I was gone?” I look up to him and raise my eyebrows.

“Of course,” he replies, “you’re one of us, your family now.”

I smile, my cheeks warming up to tint a rosy colour. I sniff as I let him wipe my final tear away with the soft pad of him thumb. There’s a moment that we lock eyes and neither of us dare look away. We both are very still. It’s like time isn’t moving.

When his thumb finally leaves my cheek all I can think about is how I want his touch there again. It’s like I need it now. Like how a drug addict craves a needle in their arm. The absence of that feeling of his skin on mine is horrible.

“Besides who will I have to call me a moron if you go away,” he jokes, tilting his cowboy hat towards me.

“You are pure cheek Nash Hawthorne,” I poke my tongue out.

“I’ve heard that one before in many different contexts,” he smirks with a wink.

Who knew Nash Hawthorne looked so good when he winked?

I gape in shock, “who knew you could make crude jokes!?”

“I may be the eldest and most responsible but who do you think taught everything to Jamie?” he asks.

“I’d never thought of that before,” I reply.

He shrugs in a very Nash kind of way, “welcome to the inner workings of being a Hawthorne.”

“Should I be flattered to be so privy to such important information?” I grin batting my eyelashes at him.

He moves in, “that depends on how much you value it.”

Our faces are inches apart. I feel something in my chest. Aside from my heart racing, there’s a feeling deep within my heart. It’s warm and tingly and tender. It’s sweet but bitter at the same time, and yet I still crave it.

“Let’s make a deal,” he whispers, our noses so close they could be touching.

“Is this a Hawthorne kind of deal?” I question in a murmur.

“Well what other kind of deal would it be,” Nash says, pulling back a little disappointing me slightly.

Still, I raise an eyebrow and cock my head to the side telling him to continue

“You don’t put up your wall anymore and you talk to me about your problems,” he proposes.

“A deal has two sides Hawthorne,” I remind him.

“Indeed it does,” he nods, “so name your price.”

“You learn when to shut up,” I say.

“What?”

“When I say I’m not in the mood for socialising understand it and move on,” I reply.

I wouldn’t be having the conversation if he’d just left me alone to start with. Not that I’m complaining, this conversation is rapidly becoming my favourite yet, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Deal.”

We take each others hands and with a firm shake the deal is bound.

“Starts today,” Nash adds, “now.”

“Perfect,” I smile mischievously, “then I think you should stop talking.”

“See I don’t think I-“

“Shhhh,” I shush him.

“But-“

“Shut up.”

“Mouth is shut!” he exclaims trying not to laugh.

“Forever?” I challenge.

“Can’t keep me quiet for that long darlin’,” he drawls.

“I can try,” I reply.

“You’re setting yourself up for failure,” he sing songs.

I put my finger on his lips and this time physically he can’t suppress him smile.

“How does failure taste?” I murmur.

“Like something you’ll enjoy,” he counters, talking against my fingertips. I can’t help but grin.

“Wanna get out of here for a bit, get some fresh air?” he asks me.

“Do I,” I sigh, dropping my hand from his mouth, relieved he finally asked

“Come on darlin’,” Nash says.

I don’t tell him not to call me darling. In fact it’s growing on me. He holds my hands, they’re warm against my cold palms and gently pulls me off of the bed.

“Where are we going?” I stand up, tilting my head to the side in question.

He flashes me a grin, “how do you feel about motorcycle rides?”

I did my research girl 🤭🤭 a little reread of tig never hurt anyone and the libby/nash content is too cute!! I feel like I didn’t really capture the right kind of banter because it was more sensitive so maybe I’ll do another one with more banter, so sorry about that xx hope you enjoyed anywaysss and thanks for your request

[xthedevilscircusx]

Lucifer cursed under his breath, but he can't exactly be mad at Alastor. This isn't his fault. This is the gluttony ring. He already knew there might be side effects from eating and staying here for too long. Despite his slight annoyance when he got a good look at Alastor again, he begins to laugh. Damn, he would have taken a picture, but he knows the other would just distort it. It's a shame because if he tells Charlie about this, he doubts she will ever believe him.

"Fine. Whatever floats your boat." Lucifer can already tell he would regret it, but he wasn't going to fight with someone who is clearly out of their mind.

So with that, the king bought pretty much all the damn beignets which he had to carry out in a huge box. All the while the imp is dragged along through the whole interaction.

When he got Alastor his damn pastries he went back for the hellhound and evidence that was left behind. He used the same chains to bound the imp and hound together so he can easily escort them back to Pride via guards.

"Damn it, I really was hoping it wouldn't be one of mine. What a bummer!" Bee is standing outside talking to Lucifer, while his Radio Demon is eating---still.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was an imp to. Most likely one of mine, but I'm going to have to take the hellhound with me to Pride, I'm sure you understand why."

Bee sighed, "Yeah no need to explain. He's yours." She peeked over Lucifer's shoulder to Alastor. "uuuh is he going to be alright?"

Lucifer shook his head, "Not sure if 'alright' is the best word to use, but once we get back to Pride, he should be normal again. Sinners apparently are just as affected here as any hellborn."

[ckret2]

I love your writing so much oh my gosh! :D It does make me sad that there will be no karaoke night flashbacks do to the fact this was written pre TBOB however. :( Also If I may ask, could Bill have called Kyptos back or...? Would he have needed to re-do the entire summoning and run out of time before Ford would come in? If so, could he not just do the summoning again at night when everyone is asleep? I am sure Kyptos would eventually pic up phone if he had been bothered enough. Also,

vivian-za-determined-luna-moth asked: -Could Bill break any windows? Perhaps Bill was simply bluffing when he asked if Stan wanted a broken window? I understand not breaking that one considering the long fall and fragile nature of human leg bones however, there should be a handful of windows on the second floor. If he made the statement about the window, then he probably knew how easily they shatter. Did he forget how to break one? Apologies If I sound rude, I simply love your work and am really invested. Toodaloo!

Hey, that doesn't rule out the possibility there could be a future flashback to karaoke night. I don't currently have plans to but it wouldn't be surprising for it to come up eventually.

Yes, Bill would have had to do the whole ritual again to call Kyrptos back; and nah, if Bill had called back, Kryptos would have taken one look at the weird human lady and gone "oh YOU again" and hung up, and probably just stopped answering if he kept getting calls. I'm sure there's some way to turn on a psychic "do not disturb" setting or block a particular caller or something. Bill was right not to try calling Kryptos again without a way to ensure he'd listen.

(This is a subtle hint that Bill is going to find a way to ensure he listens.)

Bill is physically and mentally capable of breaking a glass pane. Under the terms of the no doors no windows curse on him, he's magically prevented from realizing breaking the glass could help him get out the window. If he threatens to break a window, it's like threatening to break a mirror, a chair, or a TV: he doesn't think it would help him escape, it's just a threat of property destruction he thinks the Pines would want to avoid. Because of that, he probably wouldn't actually do it unless he thinks the potential benefit outweighs the potential punishment.

If he did break a window, he'd be surprised and confused to see that the window's now "open" and he can get through it. It would be like if he kicked a football and a fruitcake materialized in his hands. Absolutely no logical connection between the action and the result.

He would be incapable of deliberately repeating the "if I break the glass, somehow it opens the window" feat; the curse would prevent him from making any "X opens the window/door" connections. If he broke another window, he'd be surprised again to discover that opens the window. But as long as he consciously recalls that breaking the glass opens the window, he'd be unable to break the glass again even if opening the window wasn't his actual goal. He'd have to momentarily forget about that side effect.

As long as he's cursed, he's not getting through a closed door/window unless he can completely psychologically divorce his current action from any resemblance to the idea of opening a door/window.

But hey, that's not impossible. You read chapter 6. You know Bill can find ways through unopenable doors.

(And if you haven't reached the chapter where he figures it out—you will soon.)

[moonythejedi394]

oh you liked how in my fic for him. bucky didn't fall from the train well what if he did?

His phone buzzes. Steve picks it up and sees a text from Hill, then another one comes in. They’re both phone numbers. The first one is Becca’s and the second is Benny’s. Benny’s name is still Barnes, but Hill’s text has Becca’s last name as Proctor. Steve exhales, then he calls Becca.

It rings for a long time. Steve bites his lip.

“Hello?”

Becca’s voice is rough and cracking with age, but it’s her. Steve exhales heavily.

“It’s Steve,” he says quietly. “Hi.”

There’s silence for a moment.

“What flowers were at your wedding?” Becca asks. 

Steve smiles, bittersweet, but it’s just like Becca to be suspicious. “Red carnations and daisies. Bucky had a daisy in his lapel,” he adds. “Your ma did all youse’s hair with daisies, too. And you and Betty had matching dresses, little cap sleeves and empire waists and a bow in the back, and your ma bought both of you a pair of kitten heels, even though you were only eight, they were yellow with bows, too. Benny had a dress with a big poofy skirt and she kept grousing about it, even though she tried to get me to wear a wedding gown with a poofy skirt. I let Benny pick the color of your dresses, though. She picked pale yellow because she was obsessed with lemons back then. The wedding cake was lemon because of her, lemon and lavender.”

“Steve…” Becca exhales. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, trying to hold back sudden tears. “Becca, Bucky – Before he – Before –”

“What?” Becca asks gently. “What did Bucky do?”

“‘M pregnant,” Steve confesses.

“Oh, my G-d,” Becca whispers. “Oh, my G-d. You’re pregnant?”

“Three months,” Steve then tells her, his voice almost breaking. “I’m about three months in.”

“Did Bucky know?”

Steve lets out a watery sort of laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. He – He said I could go on one last mission, the mission to get Zola, then he was gonna tell Colonel Phillips and get me discharged. We didn’t know for sure, but…”

“Oh, Steve,” Becca murmurs. “Where are you, honey?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve whispers. “Bedford-Stuyvesant,” he adds.

“Okay, honey, I’m gonna come pick you up, alright? I got a spare bedroom, you can have it. Bucky wouldn’t want you to be alone. What’s your address?”

Steve bites his lip hard, fighting back tears. But she’s right.

“Alright,” he mumbles, then recites the address for Barton’s apartment building. “I don’t have a lot of things right now,” he says. “I – I, uh, I’m trying to get the Smithsonian to give back all our stuff…”

“I heard your collar got taken out of the exhibit,” Becca says. “You have it?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “I had to get a new key fitted for the lock. Buck–”

He can’t say it. Bucky had had the key on the chain that held Steve’s dog tags. It had fallen with him, to be forever entombed in stone and ice.

“It’s okay, honey,” Becca tells him. “I won’t be long, just an hour. Have you got a nest set up yet?”

“No,” Steve admits softly. “I – I want –” His voice cracks and he swallows. “I want my nesting stuff. It’s all in the Smithsonian. They’re saying it all belonged to some Omega I collared.”

“I’ll sic my grandkids on ‘em,” Becca says. “What have you eaten today?”

Steve groans and drops his head back against the wall. “Protein bars,” he mutters.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Bucky’s gonna come back from the grave and take a double-folded belt to your ass if you don’t start taking better care of his property,” Becca offers kindly.

Steve laughs a little again, then wipes tears from his eyes. “You’re right.”

“What have you got other than protein bars?” Becca asks.

“Protein shakes,” Steve sighs.

“Oh, boy, Bucky’s rolling in his grave.”

Steve almost laughs. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaking breath.

“If you need to cry, you should,” Becca says. “It’s good for you.”

“Call me when you get here,” Steve murmurs. “I have to pack.”

“Alright. Just an hour, big brother.”

[isak-dot-gov]

Someone Who Isn't Me

Pairing: Kelsey Plum x Reader

Word Count: 1360

My Masterlist :)

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The bright lights of Las Vegas pulsed outside the bar as Kelsey stood frozen in place. It was a rare moment where she was caught completely off guard, and she couldn't tear her eyes away. There you were, sitting at a table in the corner, laughing with someone else. Her heart twisted painfully as she realised that the someone else was a date, not her.

A year had passed since your breakup, but the feeling of regret hadn't faded. In fact, seeing you here, looking happy and confident, made her stomach tighten in ways she couldn't explain. The last time she'd seen you, things had ended badly. She hadn't realised it then, but now, in the quiet hum of the bar, she couldn't ignore the truth anymore: she had messed up. 

The Aces had just wrapped up another offseason celebration, but tonight, Kelsey’s mood was ruined. Her mind was racing, the regret overwhelming her. 

The rest of the team noticed her distance as the night wore on. Jackie Young was the first to approach her, noticing the quiet storm brewing in Kelsey’s usually upbeat demeanour.

"Hey, Kels, what's up?" Jackie asked, raising an eyebrow as Kelsey fiddled with her drink, her gaze drifting back to you.

Kelsey exhaled, but before she could come up with an answer, Jackie smirked, clearly seeing through the distraction. “Come on, what’s really going on? Who’s got you looking like that?”

Kelsey didn’t know why she hesitated. Maybe it was the comfort of Jackie’s bluntness, or maybe it was the steady gaze of her teammates, but she finally let the truth slip out.

“She’s here. And she’s with someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”

The quiet that followed her words felt thick, almost suffocating. Her teammates exchanged glances, but it was Chelsea Gray who spoke first, her tone sharp yet gentle.

“You mean Y/n?” Chelsea asked, her voice full of surprise. “I thought you two were...”

“Yeah, we were,” Kelsey murmured, her voice low. “We were a thing. But I couldn’t—no, I didn’t—let anyone know. Not even you guys.”

There was a brief silence, and then A’ja Wilson, who had been quietly listening, gave Kelsey a knowing look. “Kels, you have to know how much you messed that up. I know you thought you were protecting yourself—or protecting her, but you weren’t. She deserved better.”

Kelsey felt the guilt start to seep back in, but this time it wasn’t the guilt of being caught. It was the guilt of realising just how much she had hurt you, someone she had cared about deeply.

Jackie leaned forward, speaking with an intensity Kelsey didn’t expect. “You should reach out. You owe her an apology. A real one. Maybe even more.”

The words stung, but Kelsey knew they were right. The thought of you—happy with someone else—made her heart ache, and she knew she couldn't let the chance to apologise slip away. If she was being honest, it had never really been about protecting you. It had been about protecting herself, from the pressures of her career, from the attention that a relationship with you would bring, and from the fear of being vulnerable.

“I will,” Kelsey whispered. “I will.”

One Year Ago:

The argument had started quietly enough. Just another late night after practice, the two of you in her apartment, tangled in quiet conversation that had somehow taken a turn for the worse.

“I don’t understand, Kelsey,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “I’ve been asking for months. Why can’t you just be open with people about us? Why does it feel like you’re ashamed of me?”

Kelsey, sitting across from you, looked down at the floor, the guilt twisting in her stomach. She couldn’t even meet your eyes. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay? It’s just… complicated. I don’t want everyone in my business. We have to keep this to ourselves, for now.”

“For now?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly. “How long is this ‘for now’ supposed to last, Kels? Because right now, it feels like I’m just your dirty little secret, something you hide away from the world like I don’t even matter.”

Kelsey flinched at your words, though they stung with truth. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came. She couldn’t explain it to you. She couldn’t tell you that she was terrified—terrified of the extra pressure, terrified of being scrutinised, and terrified of letting anyone see just how deeply she cared for you. She was afraid of it all crumbling beneath her feet if she didn’t keep control. 

But the more she kept quiet, the more you began to retreat, the more the space between you grew.

“I need more than this, Kelsey,” you said quietly, your eyes wet with unshed tears. “I need to know that I’m not just someone you hide. I need to know that you want me, in the open, with your friends, with your teammates… with the world.”

Kelsey’s heart cracked as she saw the pain in your eyes. She reached out, but you pulled away.

Her face softened, but she didn’t say anything. Silence lingered between you, and the pain in your chest grew as each second passed.

“Do I even matter to you, Kelsey?” you whispered, feeling your heart break a little as the question left your lips.

“Of course, you matter! Don’t say that,” Kelsey replied, reaching out as if to comfort you, but her hesitation was clear. “I just… I can’t do it right now. Not with my career and the way things are.”

“No,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I can’t keep doing this. If you can’t give me what I need—if you can’t let me be a part of your life in the way that I need to be—then I think it’s better if we just stop. For both of us.”

Kelsey’s world felt like it was crashing down around her, but she didn’t know how to fix it. The words you said—*I can’t keep doing this*—replayed in her mind over and over, and she knew you were right. You were right to leave, because she hadn’t been willing to fight for you in the way you deserved.

And so, you left. 

Present Day:

Now, as she sat across from you in the coffee shop, the years of regret felt heavier than they ever had before. Kelsey took a deep breath, the words she’d been holding in for so long finally escaping her lips. “I know I messed up. I should have never let you walk away like that. I kept us hidden because I was scared, and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry. I should have fought for you.”

You were quiet for a moment, your gaze fixed on her, as if searching for something in her eyes. “I was so confused, Kelsey,” you said softly. “I loved you, I still do, and I thought you loved me too. But when you kept pushing me away, it felt like I wasn’t worth the risk. Like I was just something to hide.”

Kelsey’s heart broke at the words, but she knew they were true. You deserved better. You had always deserved better. 

“I do love you,” Kelsey replied, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it. I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be with you—out in the open, for everyone to see. Because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to be loved proudly. Not hidden away like a secret.”

A slow smile spread across your face, and Kelsey couldn’t help but feel a weight lift from her chest. “If we try again,” you said quietly, “it can’t be the same as before. No more secrets. No more hiding.”

Kelsey nodded fervently, her hands reaching across the table to find yours. “No more secrets. I promise.”

And as the two of you sat there, hands entwined, the world outside felt a little brighter. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something better—something built on honesty, vulnerability, and the love they both shared but had been too afraid to fully embrace.

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